Chapter 19 #2
I arrive at the house twenty minutes after Fisher leaves.
Luckily, I’m only a few minutes late from the time we actually eat, but no one notices because two of my brothers are still missing.
My dad and Fisher are having a full-on conversation about football, and I hold back a smile when I notice how uninterested Fisher is.
He’s trying hard to stay engaged, but as soon as our eyes lock, his expression brightens.
I do a quick headshake to remind him he’s not supposed to stare at me like he remembers what I look like naked.
“Sweetheart, hi.” Momma walks over and pulls me in for a big hug.
I avert my gaze from Fisher and focus on her.
“Landen and Wilder are on their way, then we can sit.”
“Sounds good.”
Gramma Grace is icing something by the stovetop, so I make my way to her and give her a quick hug. “This smells delicious. You’ll have to teach me this recipe.” I dip my finger across a small piece of cake.
She whacks my wrist, and I jump.
“We have a guest tonight. He doesn’t want your fingers in his dessert.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, Fisher coughs, and I turn to see him choking on his sweet tea. My cheeks heat at the thought of how I know he wouldn’t mind at all, but I glance away before anyone notices my reaction.
“Goodness, Fisher. Are you okay?” My mother stands by him, softly patting his back.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine. Just went down wrong.”
“That’s because he’s drinkin’ that sissy shit,” Tripp taunts. “I’ll grab you a beer.”
Tripp stands next to me as he opens the fridge, and I nudge him. “You know Momma doesn’t like drinkin’ at supper.”
“It’s not like he’s underage.” He snorts, grabbing two cans of Bud Light, and hands Fisher one.
“Thanks,” Fisher says and pops the tab.
“Where’s Mallory?” I ask.
“With Serena at the waterpark. Told Ayden to be back by suppertime, but he texted a half hour ago and said the girls weren’t ready to leave,” Momma explains, shrugging.
“I’m sure they’re havin’ a blast,” I reassure her, and she nods with a smile.
Since Mallory's parents' death, my mother has grown overprotective of her and ensures she's always involved in our family traditions.
Waylon sits and asks Fisher, “So you traveled a lot before movin’ back here, right?”
“Yes, for eight years or so.”
Fisher’s been a farrier longer than that, and Lyla passed away ten years ago, so he didn’t start traveling for his job until two years later. But Jase said he left right after his sister died. Where was he for those two years?
“Are you likin’ livin’ back here?” Waylon continues to ask questions.
Fisher quickly glances at me before directing his response back to my brother. “More than I thought I ever would.”
“I ran into Jase at the grocery store the other day,” Momma tells him, which is news to me. “Told me he was buyin’ a house.”
“Yes, he gave me a walk-through of it this mornin’. It’s perfect for him.”
“He was such a sweetheart to our Noah. We were so sad when they broke up. I coulda sworn they’d get back together, get married, and eventually have kids.”
Kill me now.
“Not me,” Tripp blurts out, and for once, I want to give him a high five for rudely interrupting.
“Tripp,” Momma scolds. She’s worried he’ll offend Fisher by speaking negatively about his son, but she couldn’t be more wrong in that assumption.
“She’s too good for him,” he defends, but what he’s not saying is how much my brothers didn’t like Jase out of respect for his father being here.
“Noah’s too good for anyone,” my dad speaks up assertively.
I roll my eyes and sigh. “Noah’s right here, and she can make her own decisions on who she does or doesn’t date.”
“You’re still young, sweetie. Jase seems to be growin’ up and maturin’, so you never know. Y’all might find your way back to each other.”
My mother’s words make me want to throw up.
They're fixated on him because he was my only long-term boyfriend in high school. If only they knew Jase and I weren’t as serious as they thought. Once he graduated, we only hung out on the weekends, and even then, it felt more like two friends hanging out. Not a couple crazy in love.
“We’re just friends, Momma,” I remind her. “That’s all we’re gonna be.”
“There’s a new ranch hand at the retreat who’s twenty-five and single. I’ll have to introduce y’all. He works with the horses,” she says as if that’s a requirement for me to like someone.
I liked Fisher before I even knew he was a farrier, and even though we met at a rodeo, I didn’t even know why he was there at the time. I just knew there was a spark between us that I wanted to explore before the event was over.
“When did this become the Noah Dating Show? Y’all act like I’m nearin’ my deathbed or something.”
“Don’t listen to them, sweetie.” Gramma Grace takes her seat next to Fisher.
Lord help him.
“You’re too young to settle down anyway. Go travel the world, live your life, and only get married when you find a suitor who can handle your adventurous side. Otherwise, you’re just wastin’ your time on boys.”
“A suitor, huh?” I muse, pouring myself a glass of sweet tea before sitting across from her and Fisher. “In that case, maybe I’ll find myself an older gentleman who knows how to treat a lady,” I drawl out in a deep country accent.
“That’s what I did...” Gramma Grace says as she lays her napkin over her lap. “You think I married the first man who proposed? Tsk. I made your grandfather work for it.”
Oh my God.
My jaw drops.
“Gramma...so scandalous,” I tease.
“Mama, you sure ya wanna share that story with your grandchildren?”
“Yes!” Tripp and I say simultaneously. I’m surprised she hasn’t told us already, but I’m eager to hear about it. Just as she’s about to start, the front door whips open, and my other two brothers walk in.
“Finally. We’re starvin’,” my dad scolds, gesturing for them to find a seat.
“Don’t look at me.” Landen shakes his head, then points at Wilder.
No one’s even shocked.
“Gramma was just about to tell us how she met Grandpa,” I say as the boys grab a beer and take a chair on each side of me.
“I thought they were high school sweethearts or something…” Tripp says, reaching for the food, but I quickly elbow him to wait for grace.
“Well, I was in high school when we met, but that’s not when we started datin’,” Gramma Grace confirms.
Once everyone’s at the table, Momma says, “Let’s say the blessin’ first before you talk about marryin’ a man fifteen years older than you.”
I cover my mouth, surprised she slipped that little information in, and am disappointed that I have to wait for the story now. After we hold hands, I sneak a peek at Fisher across from me. Gramma comments on how big and strong he feels. I bite back a laugh when he blushes at her compliment.
Momma starts her usual prayer as I send my own.
Dear Jesus, thank you for this food, but please make this dinner less awkward before I do something stupid like blurt out I had sex with our new farrier and am possibly falling hard for him, too.
If you could send a hurricane, tsunami, or meteor to end this dinner as soon as possible, that’d be appreciated.
And then I make the sign of the cross over my body at the same time as my mother says, “Amen.”