Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Frankie had never seen so many boots by a front door in her life.
On first impression, Kyle and Arden’s Victorian ranch house looked like a Cabela’s ad exploded—outerwear, hats, and heavy coats, all piled up on a table in the front hall in the kind of chaos that screamed family .
The moment Frankie stepped inside, the smell of something rich and buttery hit her nose.
Turkey. Maybe ham. Definitely stuffing. And gravy.
Her stomach turned a little.
Frankie did her best to ignore it. She’d been full of energy the day before and she’d worked out twice as hard. Today she was feeling a little run down, and food smelled strongly again, just like when she’d had?—
Nope. Not going to think that way .
“Guess I should take my boots off,” she told Waylon.
“Definitely,” he murmured back, already tugging his laces loose while hanging onto Snoopy’s leash. “Nancy gets testy if you track mud in.”
“Nancy? ”
“The ghost. You’ll meet her.” He pointed to a shotgun leaning against the wall next to the door. “That used to belong to her.”
“Oh, right. The infamous gun.” Frankie smiled and leaned against the wall as she pulled her boots off. Her lower back also reminded her she’d overdone it at the rec center. She wanted to build up her muscles ahead of their upcoming scuba trip to Hawaii. Waylon had surprised her with lessons and they’d been to two already, with Wren and Elias. As soon as she knew Frankie and Waylon were going to be taking lessons, she insisted on joining the class. They had snorkeled on their Hawaii honeymoon and Wren decided she needed to up her game. Not that Waylon or Elias needed lessons. But, they came along as ‘moral support’ which Wren translated as, ‘My husband and your boyfriend want to ogle us in our swimsuits.’
Frankie grinned at the thought. Boyfriend. It still felt strange to say, even in her head. But that’s what they were. When Arden had invited her to Thanksgiving at her ranch, she told her how happy she was that Waylon wouldn’t be coming alone this year. Arden had also asked her if she’d like to invite her mother.
“Sure, you can invite her if you wanna see me have a miserable time. And if you would like every single part of the dinner, your house, and your clothes picked apart.”
“Ouch. I’m so sorry about that.”
“I am too, but it is what it is. I think it’s why I love traveling so much. I spent most of my life trying to get away from her,” Frankie added without thinking. “I’m so sorry. That’s a terrible thing for me to say. I understand you’ve lost both your parents.”
Sadness touched Arden’s eyes, but she smiled. “Thank you. It’s alright, I’m not offended. I lost them many years ago. Missing them doesn’t go away, but it does get a little easier.”
“I agree. I lost my dad in college, too.”
Arden hugged her. “Holidays are happier when you have a house full of friends. ”
Looking at the eight million boots in the foyer, Arden was having a very happy day.
The hallway past the foyer ended at an open kitchen and great room, already buzzing with warmth and conversation. A fire crackled in the huge stone fireplace. Someone had tossed a knit blanket over the back of the leather couch that looked like it had seen a million stories. Camo stretched out in front of the hearth like a sentry on break.
Frankie stepped into the low hum of laughter, the clatter of serving dishes, and the comfort of new friends.
Arden was right. A house full of new friends on Thanksgiving made for a happy day.
Ellie and Rochelle were in the kitchen, both wearing matching aprons that said Talk turkey to me . Gabe was carving something that may have once been a turkey, while Bear hovered like he wanted to be helpful but had no actual job.
“Frankie!” Wren called, waving a wine glass in the air. Chuck barreled toward them with Penny hot on his heels, both eager to see Snoopy.
Frankie braced herself for impact. “Oh, God?—”
Elias came out of nowhere and caught Chuck by the collar just in time. “As you can see, I’ve got him well-trained,” he joked.
Chuck plopped his butt down on Elias’ foot.
Penny, however, looked at Snoopy’s leash, barked once in judgment, and stared at Waylon expectantly.
“Okay,” Frankie laughed. “ That one’s scary-smart.”
“Hopefully, she won’t corrupt our puppy,” Waylon muttered as he unhooked Snoopy’s leash from his collar. The three dogs took off toward Camo. Waylon stood and put his arm around Frankie’s waist. She leaned into Waylon and took a deep breath. She still missed Dan, always would, but this felt like the first step toward healing.
“Frankie!” Arden swept toward them, apron dusted with flour and a wooden spoon still in one hand. Her golden curls were pinned up in a twist that was already starting to fall apart .
Frankie was caught in a hug before she could say a word, Arden’s arms strong and warm and welcoming.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t meet you at the door,” Arden said, pulling back to give Waylon a quick hug, too. “It’s like a circus in here. I had everything under control until we blew a fuse.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Nancy?” Waylon asked with a wink.
“She knows better than that.” She looked up. “Then again, she hates when I make green bean casserole with canned soup, and that’s what was in the oven at the time.”
“Well, Nancy is totally wrong. It smells amazing in here.”
“Thanks. I haven’t sat down since six this morning, but if I don’t hear at least three people moan over the biscuits, I’ve failed as a hostess. Now—go find a drink, make yourself at home, and keep an eye on your man. Every time he wanders into my kitchen unsupervised, he steals a pie.”
Waylon held up a hand. “ One time.”
“Three times,” Arden corrected. “But I’m feeling forgiving today. It’s Thanksgiving.”
She disappeared back into the kitchen, and Frankie barely had time to breathe before Stephanie emerged from the crowd. She wore a flowing red-and-gold tunic, glittery earrings, and a sling decorated with stick-on leaves, one of which had googly eyes glued to it.
“Well, well,” she said. “If it isn’t my heroes.”
Frankie pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Steve.”
“I was hoping the arm would heal in time for the holidays,” Stephanie said, holding up her slinged arm and wiggling her fingers. “Unfortunately, it’s about as useful as a turkey wing. And someone won’t let me take the cast off early. Speaking of which?—”
She turned, scanning the room. “I need to introduce you to Dr. Boyfriend. He’s here somewhere, I swear. Unless Nancy ran off with him. Again.”
She cupped her good hand around her mouth. “Dr. Boyfriend! Paging Dr. Boyfriend! If you’re in the coat closet again, I told you, that is not an appropriate place to practice auscultation! ”
With that, she wandered off, still calling his name.
Frankie blinked. “Do we know if Dr. Boyfriend is a real person?”
Waylon shrugged. “Jury’s out.”
“Oh, you guys, stop it! He’s real,” Wren said as she breezed over, giving Frankie a warm hug. “They’re adorable together. He’s just…a little on the quiet side.”
“Quiet?” Waylon arched a brow.
“Okay, not quiet,” Wren admitted with a grin. “He just can’t get a word in edgewise when Steph gets going. But he dotes on her.”
“Dotes?” Waylon’s lips quirked. “So, what, he follows her around like a lost puppy?”
“More like a very well-trained retriever,” Wren said with a wink. “He’s smart, loyal, and completely smitten.”
“Still doesn’t explain why we’ve never met him,” Waylon murmured, his tone playful but laced with curiosity.
“He’s around.” Wren’s grin grew sly. “You know how Steph loves to keep us guessing,” she said with a laugh. “But trust me—he’s not imaginary. And if Nancy did run off with him, she’s in for a treat.” Wren’s smile turned downright wicked. “Steph says he’s got very skilled hands both inside and outside of the OR.”
Waylon groaned. “Didn’t need to hear that.”
Frankie was laughing when Stephanie’s voice floated back toward them from the kitchen.
“Found him!” Steph called triumphantly. “He’s out on the back deck. Come meet him before he startles and disappears.”
Frankie’s eyes widened. “Gee, I wonder why that is,” she joked.
Waylon chuckled and put his arm around Frankie as they walked toward the back of the house.
“Finally,” he muttered to her under his breath. “The man, the myth, the legend.”
By the time the food was served, the great room had transformed into something out of a cozy fever dream. The long rustic farm table groaned under the weight of every side dish imaginable, and still people were bringing more from the kitchen, squeezing them into every open space like they were playing Thanksgiving Tetris.
Frankie sat with Waylon at the far end, across from Bear and Ellie. Ellie wore a fuzzy burnt orange cardigan over her maternity dress and had tucked her hair back with a leaf-shaped clip that kept slipping free. Frankie had already met her at Steph’s book club a week ago and had liked her instantly. Ellie had an easy smile and sparkling eyes that crinkled when she laughed. She’d also met Bear briefly when he’d come to pick Ellie up. Bear—who was aptly named—was a massive man with a beard thick enough to hide an actual bear. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, Frankie had quickly learned he was thoughtful and insightful, with a quiet strength that reminded her of Waylon.
“Ellie tells me you grew up on a ranch,” Bear said as he passed the mashed potatoes.
Frankie smiled, taking the dish. “I did. Mostly cattle and horses, but we had goats and chickens, too. The foxes kept things interesting with the coops.”
Bear’s lips twitched. “Yeah. We had that problem when we first put in the chicken coop. Took a bit to figure out how to keep the foxes from thinking it was a KFC.”
Frankie laughed hard. She liked Bear. He had that same calm, steady energy that Waylon had when he wasn’t giving her a hard time.
“Waylon mentioned you’ve been doing some work with Wwoofers,” Bear said, his gaze warm and genuinely curious.
“Yeah,” Frankie said, perking up. “I’ve been helping write grants to get more Wwoofers out to smaller operations that really need the extra hands. It’s been amazing to see how much of a difference it makes.”
Bear nodded, clearly interested. “That’s good work. Hands-on experience is hard to come by.”
“You’d be surprised how many people think they can run livestock just because they watched Yellowstone a couple of times,” Frankie said.
Bear tilted his head, then laughed low and deep.
Frankie sighed. “Grant writing’s fine, but I really miss getting my hands dirty.”
Bear nodded. “I would, too.”
Ellie beamed, clearly enjoying how easily Bear and Frankie were getting along. “A desk job would kill him. When I inherited the cabin from my uncle, it was a little on the rough side, wasn’t it, Bear?” Ellie gazed up at her husband.
He looked adoringly back down at her. “Rough’s being generous, honey.”
“Bear rebuilt practically all of it by hand.” She patted his massive arm. “And the chicken coop. And the goat shed. And the beehives.”
Bear shrugged. “You wanted goats.”
Ellie beamed at him. “I just wanted chickens. You wanted goats. And bees. And the bison will be coming soon, too.”
“I got excited.”
“Bison’s a smart choice though,” Frankie said. “They’ll be good for the land. Much better than cattle.”
Bear studied her thoughtfully. He started to say something when Kyle stood at the head of the table, glass in hand. The room gradually quieted.
“Alright,” he said. “Before we all collapse into a collective food coma, I just want to say—thank you. For being here. For showing up for each other. For helping to make my wife’s ranch house into a home filled with loved ones again.”
Camo let out a low huff in agreement from under the table.
Kyle’s expression softened. “Some of us came here lost and broken. Some of us came here looking for a safe place to hide. And some of us didn’t want to come at all—until someone dragged us in kicking and screaming.” His gaze flicked meaningfully to Bear, who scowled without fooling anyone—his twinkling eyes gave him away.
“But all of us stayed,” Kyle finished. “It’s good to be reminded, especially today, that family isn’t always blood. Sometimes, you find it. And sometimes it finds you.”
He lifted his glass. “To the family we’ve found, and to the ones still finding their way to us.”
Glasses clinked around the table. Waylon leaned in and kissed the top of Frankie’s head.
She didn’t speak. Couldn’t quite trust her voice. But she reached under the table and squeezed his hand.
Dinner was loud after that—jokes flying, laughter booming, dogs roaming beneath the table hoping for contraband.
“You wanna watch our place?” Bear said out of nowhere.
Ellie looked at her husband, wide-eyed. “Really?”
Frankie shared a look with Waylon. He looked just as surprised as she felt.
“Sorry,” Ellie said, patting Bear’s hairy cheek. “We’re flying to Arizona next week to visit my cousin before I get too pregnant to fly.”
Bear grunted. “Before I get too stressed to let her.”
“Don’t let him fool you; he’s just as concerned about leaving the chickens and goats, even though Arden said she’d check in on them.”
“She’s got her own critters to watch,” Bear said, jerking his head toward the barn behind the house where Arden boarded horses—along with a small herd of alpacas, a donkey, and countless barn cats. “Frankie knows what she’s doing.”
Bear nodded.
“So, in that case, would you and Waylon be interested in staying at the cabin?” Ellie asked tentatively. “It’s quiet. Private.”
“Good for stargazing,” Bear added quietly. He and Ellie shared a look.
“And Spot is hibernating,” Ellie added.
“Spot? Don’t tell me Spot is a bear.” Frankie took a bite of cranberry sauce .
“Oh, no, he’s our pet skunk.”
Frankie almost spat out her food.
“Really?”
“Bear tamed him.”
I’m not surprised .
“We’ve got a wood stove and a big clawfoot tub,” Ellie continued. “And Bear built the guest room bed frame to survive an earthquake, so you’re good there too.”
This time, Waylon choked on his water.
Frankie’s mouth twitched. “That sounds... Amazing. Like I said, I’ve missed ranching and farming.” She looked at Waylon, who was still coughing into his napkin.
“We’ll take it,” he said once he got his breath back.
“Wonderful! Come up Thursday and we’ll show you around. Introduce you to all the animals. Oh, and we can invite Gina and Lachlan over on Thursday, too. They only live about three miles away in the new development. Then you can spend the night. Me and Bear have to leave for the airport first thing Friday morning.” She turned and hugged her husband. “Great idea, Bear.”
Bear winked and returned to his sweet potatoes like he hadn’t just offered Frankie and Waylon the best gift in the world.