Chapter Forty-Eight
Jovie
The evening sky is painted in shades of pink and gold by the time everyone drifts outside.
For the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe.
I’m not completely at ease, but it’s enough that the knot that’s been living in my stomach for weeks has loosened.
The firepit is already crackling when we step onto the front porch. Someone must have lit it while we were finishing the dishes because flames dance cheerfully against the darkening sky.
Micah and Royce head in that direction, and Grandpa Earl claims his favorite lawn chair.
Laughter fills the yard and feels normal—like the world has been set right. Or at least closer to normal than it has been in a long time.
Axle’s arm settles around my waist. “You okay?”
I lean into him. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Emotionally exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Dinner was awkward at first. Axle and Cabe were outside for a long time, and everyone pretended not to be paying attention when they finally came back in.
And even though we were all a little tense, somehow, through everything, nobody made me feel unwelcome for a moment.
Still, I think we’re both ready to retreat to the safety of our cabin.
As people gather around the firepit, Axle and I begin making our rounds to say goodbye.
Grandma Evelyn hugs me first. Then shoves two dessert containers into Axle’s hands. “One is peach cobbler, and the other is blackberry.”
His eyes light up. “You’re my favorite grandmother. You know that?”
She swats him. “I’m your only grandmother.”
Axle wanders over to say goodbye to Albert and Imma Jean, and a moment later, Irene appears beside me. Before I can say anything, she wraps me in a fierce hug—the kind moms give, the kind that says a thousand things without words—and my throat immediately tightens.
She holds me for several seconds before finally leaning back. Her hands stay on my shoulders, and her eyes drift past me to Axle. He’s standing a few feet away while Imma Jean chats his ears off.
He’s laughing, and he looks relaxed. Happy even for the first time in weeks.
Irene watches him for a moment, then looks back at me, and her eyes soften.
“You know,” she says quietly, “I’ve never seen him look like that.”
I blink. “Like what?”
She smiles. “Content.”
My chest squeezes as I glance over at him.
He’s now balancing pie containers in one arm and hugging Matty with the other.
Irene follows my gaze. “He’s always been searching.”
I look back at her. “Searching?”
She nods wistfully. “Always chasing the next thing. The next win. The next adventure. The next challenge.” Her eyes shine. “Constantly running after something. Never quite catching it.”
I know exactly what she means. I’ve seen it. Even before we were together. There was always a restlessness inside him. Like he couldn’t quite sit still. Couldn’t quite settle. Couldn’t quite find what he was looking for.
Irene squeezes my hand. “And he’s finally found it.”
My breath catches.
“I just want you to know how happy that makes me. And relieved.”
Emotion floods my chest, and my eyes sting.
Because after everything—Cabe and all the chaos I’ve created—her saying this feels like a gift I don’t deserve.
“Irene … I’m so sorry.” The words come out before I can stop them.
Her brow furrows. “For what?”
“For all of this.” I gesture vaguely toward the yard. To her family. “The entire mess I caused.”
The guilt I’ve been carrying for weeks rises to the surface.
“I should have handled things differently. Should have said something sooner. Should have—”
Irene squeezes my hand. Hard. “Sweetheart …”
I pause and look up.
“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“You aren’t angry with me?”
She sighs. “Things could have been handled better, but one thing I’ve always known is that you are meant to be part of this family. God just has a funny way of showing us sometimes that we aren’t in control of the how or why.” Her expression grows thoughtful. “And he has a plan for Cabe.”
My eyes drift across the yard to where he’s standing near the fire, talking to Micah. For the first time in weeks, he actually looks at me. Not exactly happy, but lighter. Less wounded. Hopefully, tonight is the first step toward healing for all of us.
“I hope, someday, he finds someone who makes him happier than I ever could have,” I whisper.
Irene follows my gaze. “He will.”
Before I can respond, she’s already walking away, and Cabe is walking toward me and pulling me into a bear hug.
A real hug.
The tears come instantly, and I bury my face against his shirt and sniffle.
His arms tighten around me. “Hey now. Everything is fine.”
I groan. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
I pull back and glare at him. “If one more Trust man says the word fine to me, I’m going to knee somebody in the balls.”
His eyebrows shoot up. Then he looks down and covers himself. “Wow. Hanging around Axle has made you mean.”
I snort, causing him to smile. Seeing that smile nearly makes me cry all over again because I’ve missed it—missed him, missed this, the easy friendship we’ve always shared. The relationship I never wanted to lose.
“How are you?” I ask quietly.
“I’m getting there.”
His expression darkens, and I hate the shift, but honesty means more than any fake reassurance ever could.
I nod. “Me too.”
For a moment, neither of us says anything.
Then he clears his throat. “So, want to have breakfast tomorrow?”
I blink. “What?”
He shrugs. “The summer’s almost over. We aren’t gonna get many more chances to hang out.”
A sob escapes me before I can stop it. “Breakfast sounds nice.”
“Good,” he mutters. Then he leans forward and taps the tip of my nose with one finger. “I’ll text you in the morning.”
Before I can respond, another familiar voice cuts in. “Everything okay?”
Axle.
I turn to find him standing beside us. Watching carefully. Not possessive. Just protective.
Cabe rolls his eyes. “Of course,” he says, stuffing his hands in his front pockets as he takes a step back. “You two have a good night.”
He gives us a nod before heading toward the firepit and dropping into a chair beside Micah.
I watch him go as Axle’s arm slides around my shoulders. I tuck myself against his side, and he kisses the top of my head.
“You ready?” he asks against my hair, and I nod.
Together, we start walking toward the cabins. The sounds of laughter and crackling fire fade behind us.
The evening air feels cool, and the night is peaceful as he guides us along the gravel path.
Finally, I look up at him. “You know we could’ve stayed longer if you wanted.”
His arm tightens. “No, I was ready to leave too. Things went well tonight, and I didn’t want to push it.”
I lean against him as we continue down the path. “What did you and Cabe talk about?”
His grin immediately appears. “Everything.”
I narrow my eyes. “Axle.”
“It was just two brothers talking.”
That’s not an answer. I stop walking, and he takes another step before realizing I’ve planted my feet.
“What does that mean?”
His grin widens. “It means the bridge isn’t perfect yet. But the foundation has been laid.”
I blink at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
He shrugs. “Makes sense to us.”
I huff and swat him on the chest. Not hard. Or so I think.
Suddenly, he doubles over, and a strangled sound escapes him.
My eyes widen. “Oh my God.”
I rush to him. “Axle!”
He remains bent over, and my heart nearly stops.
“Are you okay?”
His shoulders start shaking, and he lifts his head, and I realize the jerk is trying not to laugh.
My eyes narrow. “You ass—”
He grins. “My ribs are still tender, Doc.”
“Axle Trust.”
He places a dramatic hand on his chest. “I may require some of that extra-special physical therapy tonight.”
I glare at him. “You have milked that injury long enough.”
His grin grows. “Have I?”
“Yes.” I point toward the cabin. “Tonight, you’re the one doing all the work.”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he bites down on his bottom lip. “Yes, ma’am.”
Heat rushes into my core, and the smug cowboy chases me up the steps and carries me inside.
And he does more than his share of the work.