35. Cami
Cami
What Kinda Man by Parker McCollum
I t was my idea to have a big dinner at the Wilder House.
Now that the show is over, it’s great to just relax and enjoy ourselves without cameras around.
By the time the roast is in the oven and the cornbread in the cast iron is ready, I’ve already dropped my wooden spoon, burned my forearm on the stove, and threatened Tucker with a rolling pin when he stole a bite of mashed potatoes.
But the house is loud, full of laughter, and great food smells that I am grateful for every second.
Which means: things are going well.
The kitchen is chaos in the way that makes me feel weirdly alive. Every burner’s going. Dishes are stacked on the counter. Poppy’s chopping salad with way too much dramatic flair, and Jack’s trying to sneak a biscuit off the tray before they’re done.
“What is it with these thieving Jessop brothers?” I grumble but can’t help but grin .
“Don’t even think about it, Jessop,” I say, tapping his hand with the back of a wooden spoon.
He grins, all cocky and unrepentant. “They smell so good, baby.”
“You’ll live.” But then I see the look on his face and say, “Okay, just one.”
He steals a kiss from my cheek and takes one, disappearing into the dining room with a smug little whistle. God help me if our kids give me that same look. They’ll get away with murder.
I take a deep breath and look around.
This isn’t a holiday. It’s not a party. But somehow it feels like more than that. It’s the first time both families Wilder and Jessop are sitting under the same roof. No cameras. No chaos. Just us. And I cooked for them. Dishes full of love.
The back door swings open, and my mom walks in, holding a pie tin and looking like she had to psych herself up for twenty minutes in the car before knocking.
I brace myself, mentally and emotionally, but instead of a lecture or a critique about the state of my kitchen, she gives me a warm-ish smile.
“I brought coconut meringue,” she says. “From scratch.”
I blink. “You made a pie?”
“I do cook, Cami.”
I smile at her and say, “It looks good, Mom.”
She exhales like she’s trying and looks relieved.
I don’t know what to say, so I just take the pie and put it on the counter.
“You’re feeding everyone tonight?” she asks, surveying the kitchen.
“Yep.”
“You always cook like this?”
“Only when I’m trying to impress the entire town and make sure no one dies from under-seasoned mashed potatoes. ”
To my surprise, she smiles. And then she does the last thing I expect and pulls me in for a hug. “I love seeing you happy, Cami.” And by the look on her face, she means it.
I smile, “Thanks, Mom.”
She reaches out and adjusts a dish towel on the oven handle. “Now, let’s feed everyone. Put me to work. You’ve built something good here, Cami. This place is warm. Real. And from what I hear around town, it’s not just this kitchen you’ve got plans for.”
I turn slowly, heart pounding. “You’ve heard about the B&B idea?”
“Maggie,” she says with a sigh. “She’s got all the details on everything.”
I wait for the eye roll. The warning. The sarcastic comment.
But instead, she rests her hand lightly on the back of a chair and says, “I think your grandpa would’ve loved it. You turning Wilder Ranch into something new— without losing what made it ours.”
My throat tightens. “Really?”
She nods. “He always wanted people to feel welcome here. You’re making sure they still do.”
She pats me on the back and heads off into the dining room to chat with everyone. And just like that, I could cry into the green beans.
Before I can even process that emotional bomb, Mack barrels in from outside, covered in dog hair and grinning like a maniac. “Tucker let me drive his truck!”
“Be careful!” I shout.
Tucker yells from the porch, “She barely hit anything!”
Jack slips into the kitchen beside me, wraps his arms around my waist, and murmurs in my ear, “This is what you wanted, right?”
I lean into him, dizzy with it. “Yeah. It is. ”
By the time dinner’s served, it’s full-on controlled chaos.
The long farmhouse table is overflowing with food.
Everyone’s laughing too loud. Weston is trying to “gracefully” flirt with Maura, a single teacher who is new to town, and Logan’s showing Ollie pictures of goats in sweaters on his phone like they’ve known each other forever.
Elena is helping me in the kitchen, and we’ve surprisingly become friends.
She’s great, and she and Logan fit in with everyone well.
It sure is weird when people see them at the ranch, but all the locals have welcomed them in, and they fit in great.
It doesn’t hurt that they have Maggie’s stamp of approval, and she let everyone know it.
Mom sits beside Maggie, and they’re whispering with suspicious levels of intensity.
Poppy nudges me. “Your mom just smiled at Jack and didn’t look like she wanted to kill him.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “She does that now.”
Jack catches my eye from across the table, raises his glass, and gives me the softest, most heart-melting smile I’ve ever seen.
And in that moment, I realize something: This is my home. My future. My family.
And he’s mine.
Jack’s been busy.
Not like he's pulling away. Not like before. But he’s… quiet. Elusive. Gone before I wake up, vague about what he’s working on, barely sitting still long enough for a full conversation.
He kisses me quick. He smiles when he looks at me. But there’s a part of him that’s been tucked away the past few days, and the longer it goes on, the louder my brain gets .
Tonight, though, he told me to: Come to the Jessop Ranch around seven. Just trust me.
Which, historically, means either he’s building me something… or he’s about to emotionally body-slam me with some other surprise that will make me want to take off all his clothes and climb him like a tree.
I pull up the long gravel drive just as the sky’s starting to burn orange and gold over the mountains, ready to figure out what he’s up to when I see the gate. I hit the brakes so hard the truck lurches.
Because the old sign, the monstrosity that was over the top and loomed over this ranch forever, bold blocky letters spelling out “Jessop Ranch” like a branding iron across the sky is gone.
In its place is something new. And beautiful. A wooden sign, simple and hand-carved, stained in warm cedar and mounted between two beams. And across the front, burned into the wood in clean, elegant lettering: Wilder Ranch.
My breath leaves my body. I don’t move.
Jack stands beneath the sign, hands in his back pockets.
My boots hit the gravel before I know what I’m doing.
He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches me walk toward him like he’s nervous to hear my reaction.
“What… what is this?” I manage. “Did they put it up at the wrong ranch?”
“This is your name,” he says softly. “Your legacy. And now… it’s ours. The Jessop Ranch is no more, and now they’re both just Wilder Ranch.”
My heart does a full somersault. “Jack,” I whisper, staring up at the sign again. “You changed the name of your ranch?”
He nods, a little breathless. “It’s ours.”
The sunset glows behind him. His hair is tousled, his sleeves rolled, and he’s got that look in his eyes, the one that used to make me nervous. That makes me feel safe now .
He steps forward, pulling something from behind the fence post. It’s another sign. A matching one.
“For the other gate,” he says. “We’ll hang it tomorrow.”
I press my fingers to my mouth. “You… you made matching signs.”
“We’re merging everything,” he says. “Your land. My land. The cattle operations. The dairy setup. All of it. It’s Wilder. To honor your grandparents. And to build something that feels like all of us.”
Tears spring to my eyes so fast it shocks me.
“We’re expanding,” he continues, voice catching.
“Meat store’s been busier than ever. We’re gonna open the B&B by next fall with the restaurant, farm to table, Bridger Falls-style.
Weston’s already working on the building plans.
Tucker’s got Maggie’s whole chili operation in his pocket and is going to do some fundraising.
And Jenna says she can rebrand all of it by next week.
We’re going big, Cami. Together. All of us. ”
I blink hard, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Why would you give up your ranch’s name?”
He steps closer, hand brushing mine. “Because I’m so in love with you,” he says quietly. “And I want a future with you. This land. This town. This… life. It’s all better with you.”
I laugh through the tears and shove him, just a little. “You’re amazing.”
“I know. You love me,” he grins.
I look up at him, smiling through everything pouring out of me. “I do. ”
He takes my hand fully now. “There’s a future here,” he says. “Not just for us. For Weston. For Tucker. Jenna too, if she sticks around. And for every kid who wants to grow up on land like this and make something good.”
I blink again. “And Weston, Tucker, and Jenna are good with all of this? ”
“More than good with it. They came up with the idea. Apparently, your grandparents weren’t just special to me. They were special people to them, too.”
That’s when I fully lose it. Like, ugly tears. No warning.
Jack just pulls me in and holds me tight, forehead resting against mine.
“I know what this place meant to you,” he whispers. “What it still means. And I want to build a life where that never fades.”
I bury my face in his shirt and breathe him in. Hay and cedar and future.
After a while, we sit on the fence rail under the new sign, my head resting on his shoulder, fingers tangled together.
He presses a kiss to my temple and whispers, “We’re home, Wilder.”
And for the first time in a long time, it truly feels like home to me.