Chapter Twenty Five
Welcome to the Saddle, Bitch
T he red saloon doors swing in the evening breeze, all chipped and creaking, like they’re daring me to walk into the most country-ass bar I’ve ever seen.
The Twisted Saddle’s porch is wide and worn, the wood bleached gray from years of boots and spilled drinks. Music thumps from inside, muffled by laughter and the occasional holler.
It smells like beer and bad decisions. Like the kind of place where you lose your panties after a wild night on the dance floor.
Despite the butterflies battering against my insides, the thought makes me smile.
I adjust my faded cheetah print maxi skirt and cropped band tee, suddenly very aware that I’m about to stick out like a sore thumb.
Especially if Hazel and Gemma aren’t here like they said they would be.
Yesterday, while we were putting the finishing touches on Kade’s house for the big reveal, I spent time with all the Archer women.
I wasn’t lying when I told Kade his family is incredible. They didn’t just include me because they needed an extra set of hands—they went out of their way to make me feel welcome.
I see where Kade gets it from.
The Archer’s have an uncanny ability to sneak past my walls, and God, I’m letting them.
Without anything else to distract me, I shove my shoulders back and push through the swinging doors.
It’s instant sensory overload in the best way.
The music’s live—a country-rock band on a low stage in the far corner, the lead singer in a battered ball cap and tight jeans.
Somewhere, pool balls crack and people cheer.
A hot guy is riding on the mechanical bull, his hat high in the air, his body rolling with the waves.
The sight is so downright sexual, my mouth falls open.
Abby would eat this shit up.
I take a quick video before shooting her a text.
Me: You’re missing out, witchling. You’d love this place.
I wait a beat for her to read the text, but she doesn’t, and my stomach sinks, but I bury the sadness away. My eyes roam across a sea of cowboy hats, baseball caps, and everything in between as I hover just inside the door, clutching my bag like it might protect me.
What if Kade’s sisters don't show? I probably should’ve gotten one of their numbers when they begged me to come to girls’ night.
Maybe this was a mistake. I’ve barely recovered from what happened with Kade last night. Hanging out with more Archer’s will only lead to trouble. But I’d already agreed, and for once, a little trouble doesn’t sound so bad.
“You made it!” a familiar voice calls just as I’m debating turning around.
I scan the crowd and spot the girls at a high-top near the bar, both of them waving with wide smiles. Chuckling, I make my way over, sliding onto the empty stool next to Hazel with Gemma on her other side.
“Hi, Georgia,” Gemma says, beaming. “We’re so glad—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hazel cuts her off, shoving a shot glass into my hand. She leans in, dropping her voice. “We asked the bartender for gluten-free. It’s 100% agave.”
“Thank you,” I say, voice a little rough.
“Don’t hog her, Hazy!” Gemma cries, shoving her sister back. “And don’t hog the tequila. I’m starving.”
Hazel rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling softly. “Then we should get food, not alcohol.”
Gemma waves a hand through the air with a scoff and snatches a shot off the table. “Only thing I’m craving is the bliss of forgetting all my problems.”
“Same,” Hazel mutters.
Getting blissfully drunk and forgetting the chaotic emotions whirling through me non-stop sounds damn good right now, so I nod. “Agreed.”
We clink our glasses together and tip our shots back. Before I’ve even swallowed, another one is thrust at me.
“Is this a hazing?” I choke out, eyes blurring from the burn.
Gemma cackles and passes me a bowl of sliced limes before coating her hand in salt. “Nope. It’s just good form.”
I suck on a lime to cleanse my palate, but skip the salt. We down the second shots. Mine hits like a punch to the esophagus. The Archer sisters don’t even flinch.
A waiter passes, and I quickly order a water, already worried that tonight’s going to wind up with me on my ass before I’ve even settled in.
“Make that a round of water, Jimmy,” Hazel calls, swirling her finger in a circle that encompasses the table. “And another round of shots.” She arches a brow at me. “Can you drink beer or just the hard shit?”
I wince. “Straight tequila is all I feel safe drinking in bars.”
Though, I’m not sure I’m safe with Kade’s sisters at my side. At least not my pride and morals.
“You heard her,” she says to Jimmy. “Might as well bring the bottle.”
He shoots her a wink. “You got it, Haze.”
“Pretty sure if we split the bottle between us, you’ll be carting me to the nearest hospital,” I say with a nervous laugh.
Gemma smirks, tipping her chin. “Good thing we’re not alone then.”
I glance up just as three women saunter to the table and climb into the seats across from us.
“This is Loretta,” Hazel says, pointing to an older woman in a leopard-print blouse holding a drink that’s more garnish than liquor. “She keeps us in line, unless she’s instigating.”
“Which is most of the time,” Loretta adds, her voice gravely and her smirk knowing. “And I don’t apologize for it either.”
Hazel gestures to a tall brunette with stunning eyes and a dark green hat that looks like Gemma’s. “That’s Shay. She’s scary good at poker and will probably try to steal your boyfriend someday.”
Shay jerks a nod in greeting and chuckles. “I get bored easily.”
“And this—” Hazel waves to a blonde in a red dress and cowboy boots—“is Emmy. She’s a menace.”
“Only on Fridays.” Emmy winks and twirls a straw between her lips.
“It’s Saturday,” Loretta chides, glaring at the row of empty shot glasses between us. “You drunk already, Emmaline?”
Emmy shoots her a harsh look but it softens when she stumbles. “Don’t call me that unless you want me to find a biker chick to kick your ass again.”
Shay and Hazel fall into a fit of laughter but Loretta scoffs, flicking Emmy between the eyes. “That bitch tried to kick my ass. Try being the key word.”
Gemma sighs, propping her chin on her fist. She’s smiling, but there’s a sad look in her eyes. Like longing, but somehow deeper, more broken. “I’ve missed this place. I’ve missed all of you.”
“Then move back home,” Hazel says simply with a shrug. “Kade’s back now, finally . It’s your turn. Pack up my nephews, leave your prick of a husband, and come home.”
“As easy as our brother made it look,” Gemma murmurs, throat bobbing, “it’s not. I can’t just leave my life, or my husband, and come back to Heart Springs.”
Shay scoffs and drops her elbows to the table, leaning forward. “Why the hell not? He’s a dick. You deserve better.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to snap at them. To tell them it wasn’t easy for Kade to come home at all. I might not have been there for every step, but I was there at the beginning—when he was still drowning.
It took every ounce of courage and strength he had to come home, to move into the house he and his dad built together.
And in Aurora’s room, when he opened up…
I swallow hard and down another shot while no one’s looking.
“I came here to forget about Kade and all the words and emotions we let flow between us in the darkness of a quiet, sacred space last night—not to reminisce or contemplate all the ways I fucked up by walking out, when all I wanted to do was run into his arms, kiss his annoyingly handsome face again, and give in to whatever he was offering.”
“Speaking of Kade,” Emmy says. “How’s he doing with everything?”
The whole table quiets and turns her way, so I do too—casual, like I’m not secretly starving for any scrap of information about the man.
Hazel shrugs, circling her finger around the top of her beer bottle. “You know our brother. He doesn’t open up to anyone about anything. He could be ecstatic for all we know, but he keeps that shit locked down.”
Eyes wide, I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood. I had no idea he kept things so close to the chest. My muscles lock up for a split second, worried everyone will turn to me for answers, but they don’t.
And why would they?
For all these women know, I’m just the random social worker who dropped a bomb into Kade’s life, then left it, only to be dragged back in by his mom.
Actually, they might not even know that much, and suddenly, I feel even more on the outside than before.
“When does the baby move in?” Loretta says, brows tight. “What’s her name again?”
“Aurora,” I blurt before I can stop myself. Everyone turns to me, and my cheeks burn from the attention. My mouth is dry when I shrug and murmur, “Her name is Aurora, and she should be with him in a few days.”
And then, she’ll be with him forever.
A smile tugs at my lips, and Hazel catches it, her sharp blue eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The smile vanishes, and I quickly look away, chugging my water like it might wash down whatever just gave me away.
“Her name doesn’t matter,” Shay says with a dismissive click of her tongue. “I don’t know why the fuck he agreed to take that kid.”
“Shay!” Hazel hisses, whipping her attention off me and straight onto her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
The water slips from my hand but I catch it just in time. I can’t stop the flip of my stomach or the way the bar spins around me, though.
“What?” Shay says, rolling her eyes. “It’s Marlee Parker’s kid.”
“So?” Gemma demands, shoulders back, expression vicious. “Marlee died, bless her soul, and that baby girl has no one else. What would you expect him to do?”
She tips her shoulder. “Don’t know. All I know is that if I were him, I couldn’t stand to be stuck raising the love of my life’s kid. Especially when I didn’t have a hand in making it.”
The alcohol turns in my gut, and acid claws its way up my throat, but I don’t tune them out. If anything, I soak up every word like it’s all the proof I need to steer clear of Kade.