Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Ranch
I peered up at the clear night sky and snuggled deeper into the wool blanket around my shoulders. The scent of burning wood and the crackling of the fire pulled a sigh of relaxation from my lips.
“I will never get tired of this,” I said as the stars twinkled above.
“They’re just stars,” Salem said in amusement.
“You take a clear sky with no light pollution for granted because you grew up here,” I said. “For us city folk, this never gets old.”
“It never gets old for me either,” Hadley said. “And I could never be called city folk.”
“Yes, but I’m pretty sure that’s because the water from the river on this ranch runs through your veins,” Salem said to her twin.
“Very Scarlett O’Hara,” I said.
“In my next life, I want to come back looking like Vivien Leigh,” Salem said. “Icon.”
“Okay, you’re not changing the subject,” I warned. “We have things to discuss.”
Brooks, Cas, and Declan had, by unspoken unanimous agreement, left the three of us alone which meant we could speak freely without the presence of men.
“So many things,” Salem murmured. “Okay. Where should we start?”
“Uh, the fact that you got married on a whim,” I said. “Without me or Wyn there. Your dad is pissed.”
“And you? Are you pissed?” Salem asked, her eyes finding mine. She wore an oversized sweater, and I knew it was Cas’ because she turned her head and buried her nose in the collar, no doubt seeking the comfort of her husband even though he wasn’t present.
Hadley was silent as she watched our interplay. What could she say? She’d been at Salem’s wedding.
“Pissed? No,” I said truthfully. “Hurt. Feeling left out.”
“Poet,” she sighed.
“No, I get it. I get you, Salem. You don’t care about weddings or tradition. I respect that. I love that for you. But . . . I was last to find out you were pregnant, and I missed your wedding too. Lately, I just feel . . .” I swallowed. “That I don’t really belong anymore.”
“What?” Salem shot forward, leaning toward the fire. Flames gilded her red hair and carved shadows along her cheekbones. She looked like an ancient Celtic goddess. Fierce and strong.
“Poet,” Hadley said softly. “Of course you belong.”
“We’ve been begging you to move to Huckleberry Hill since you and Wyn first visited. How can you think you don’t belong?” Salem asked.
“It’s pregnancies and weddings, but it’s also the little things. Things that feel like really big things,” I said.
“Explain,” Salem demanded.
“I’m trying to.” I bit my lip. “You two are twins. That’s always been who you are. But now you’re twins with husbands and babies on the way. It feels like the four of you are a unit. And Wyn and I are just over here . . . doing our thing. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” Hadley assured me. “But you’re right. The dynamic has changed.”
I nodded.
“You’ve changed too, you know,” Salem pointed out.
“Me?” I asked in confusion. “I haven’t changed.”
“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Salem quipped.
“Of course you’ve changed. You’re in love with Brooks.
I was watching you two through dinner. Before I blew it all up, that is.
I watched your body language. You turned toward him ever so slightly, seeking him out.
It was like . . . a flower leaning toward the sun. ”
“You’ve been intimate with him,” Hadley said. “And it’s clear.”
I blinked. “You mean people can tell we’ve had sex?”
Hadley smiled softly. “People can tell it’s more than sex. That’s all I meant.”
“More than sex. Of course it’s more than sex. That man would marry you tomorrow if you said yes,” Salem said with a rueful shake of her head.
Hadley peered at me after Salem made that statement. “That doesn’t scare you, does it?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. No it doesn’t.”
Salem began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“In the day and age of dating apps and infinite talking stages, situationships, and casual hook ups, you bypassed all of that. You insta-mated.”
“She’s totally right,” Hadley agreed.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I asked.
“Oh, you’re totally crazy,” Salem said with a nod. “But the fact that you don’t care what any of us think anymore is what really tells me that you’re sure of yourself. Sure of him.”
“I do care what you think,” I said, even though it felt like a lie.
“No, you really don’t.” Salem smiled. “Hadley didn’t care what we thought of Declan. And I really didn’t care what you guys thought of Cas. That’s the change, Poet. You chose Brooks. You. And he’s bringing out something truly beautiful in you.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Courage,” Hadley said. “He’s helping you find your courage.”
“Courage.” I snorted. “I still haven’t told my grandfather I’m moving and opening a bookstore.”
“And I guess that means you still haven’t told him about Brooks,” Hadley said.
“I don’t want him to think I’m moving here for him.”
“You’re not moving here for Brooks,” Salem said. “I mean, that might be part of it. But we’re here. And the bookstore? You wouldn’t do that in New York.”
“I wouldn’t?” I asked in amusement.
“No.” She shook her head. “Too expensive. Too big. Face it, Poet. You’re a city girl, but you belong in a small town.”
I sighed. “I do love it here. It’s strange, you know? When Wyn and I came for Hadley’s wedding, it felt like coming home. I cried the entire plane ride back to New York.”
“You never told us that,” Hadley said in shock.
“If I told you, Salem would’ve bought me a ticket and told me to turn my butt around and come back.”
“I would have done exactly that,” Salem agreed.
“Timing,” I said. “It’s everything. Isn’t it?”
Hadley nodded. “So true.”
I looked at the back door. “So, Jane and your dad . . .”
“Ah yes.” Salem smirked. “The other part of this conversation.”
“You seem surprisingly okay with the news,” I said.
“Well, it was kind of inevitable,” Salem said. “I just didn’t think Dad’s vasectomy would fail. I thought he’d get it reversed.”
“Please don’t mention Dad’s vasectomy ever again.” Hadley groaned. “It’s already weird. We’re going to have a sibling twenty years younger than us. That baby is technically going to be an aunt or uncle to our children.”
“Didn’t think of that,” Salem said. “They’ll be in the same class at school.”
Hadley shot Salem an amused smile. “This is going to be pretty great.”
“The greatest,” Salem agreed. “Especially because Dad is so happy.”
“So happy,” Hadley repeated.
“We should call Wyn,” I said. “And catch her up. At least tell her you’re married.”
Salem bit her lip.
I sighed. “She already knows, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Salem said with a sigh.
“When?” I demanded. “When did you tell her?”
“This morning,” Salem said.
“Last to know, always,” I muttered.
“It just shakes out that way,” Salem said. “I swear it’s never ‘let’s not tell Poet’.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Guess I should feel lucky that I get to know anything at all.”
“Think of it this way,” Salem said. “No wedding equals no bridesmaid dresses.”
“Hey,” Hadley said. “My bridesmaid dresses were beautiful.”
“They were,” Salem agreed. “I’m just trying to give this a positive spin.”
“No wedding means no wedding cake,” I pointed out.
Salem blanched. “I didn’t think of that.”
“No father-daughter dance,” I said. “No father walking you down the aisle.”
“No mother straightening my veil,” Salem murmured.
I paused. “Oh. Oh, I see.”
Salem turned her head and discreetly brushed a tear from her eye. Hadley reached over to her sister and gave her hand a squeeze.
“Cas understood,” I said in realization. “So he gave you what you wanted.”
“No, he gave me what I needed,” Salem said softly. “And once I get Dad alone and explain it to him, he’ll understand.”
“Will he? Right now, he’s thinking that he wasn’t physically well enough to walk one of his daughters down the aisle and the other one didn’t even give him the chance to,” I said. “Sorry, but if you guys are going to call me on my crap, then I’ve got a right to do the same.”
Salem didn’t reply. Instead, her brow furrowed, and she looked into the flames.
“And I’m guessing Hadley didn’t try and talk you out of your quickie wedding because at least she got to be there?” I asked, looking at my other friend.
Hadley winced. “Salem, I think we fucked up.”