Epilogue Jackson #2
She laughs softly. “He’s trying to eat fast so he can rock Avery while I eat…but given how hot the chili seems to be, I think I’m okay with waiting awhile.”
“Yeah, that.” Denny sucks air through his teeth. “Damn, Beryl. You set this on fire right before handing it to me?”
She laughs, scooping a ladle of chili into a bowl for my dad.
He walks around the outer edge of the circle, stopping behind me to lay his broad hand over my shoulder.
He left a few weeks after Cecily had the baby, but since then he’s made a conscious effort to spend more time at the ranch.
He might not be living here full time, but he’s so attached to his grandkids he can’t seem to stay away for more than a few weeks at a time.
“Wanted to let you know I’m proud of you, kid,” he says quietly.
He’s not one for public speeches or having all the attention on him, and neither am I, so I’m glad Kate’s the only other person hearing this.
“I didn’t…I didn’t know if you’d be able to turn things around.
But you bucked up. And…” He hastily works down a swallow.
“And your mom would be incredibly proud of you, too.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I give him a half smile. “I’m doing my best.”
“You’re doing better than that, son.” With a quick pat on the shoulder, he carries on to his seat. Never one for talking, whether in my memories of him or in the time I’ve spent with him post-accident.
I focus back on the banter filling the circle of family and friends with more warmth than the fire.
The teasing has shifted to Colt now, instead of Denny.
Maybe because Denny’s managed to inhale his extra-hot chili and is standing on the outskirts of the chair circle with his baby girl held tight to his chest.
The only thing that’s been harder for me to accept than my own kids is seeing my brothers as dads.
Austin’s a brand-new dad, who’s fumbling as often as I am when it comes to caring for his daughter, but he looks at her with the same soft, protective look he previously only gave to Cecily.
And Denny’s carting around his kid like he was born to hold a baby in his arms. Then there’s Red—the unofficial brother who’s in almost as many of my childhood memories as Denver and Austin—who worked half the day today with his toddler sitting in front of him in the saddle.
It’s probably going to take a long time before I fully understand how to be a dad again, but I’ve got some damn good examples around me.
Based on the way he’s fanning his panting tongue with both hands, I’m gathering the chili is either too hot or too spicy for Colt. His face is flushed, so red it borders on purple.
“If Beryl had stuck with macaroni and cheese, like I requested, I wouldn’t be dying right now,” he defends himself, giving Cassidy a thankful smile when she offers him up a sippy cup of milk she brought for Hazel.
“Oh, ignore him,” Red shouts at Beryl over his shoulder. “Colt’s idea of seasoning is touching his food while he has ketchup chip dust on his fingers.”
All Colt can muster up for a defense is, “Hey, man. Ketchup chips are the bomb.”
The queen of being prepared for anything the cowboys could need, Beryl perks up at that. “I have some in one of the tote bins in the back of the truck. Help yourself, honey.”
“Well, hot damn. This dinner is saved after all.” Colt practically leaps out of his seat, giving a kick of each leg to straighten out his jeans. He hands off his bowl of chili to Red, who shrugs and carefully adds it to his own half-eaten bowl.
For a moment, it’s quiet. Everyone’s eating good food, slinging back bottles of cold beer, and relishing the calm after a long, hard day’s work. Kate sets her empty bowl on the ground and leans into me, resting her hand on my thigh.
And after some time, Austin clears his throat loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.
“So, uh…good work today.” He nudges his Stetson back on his head, glancing over at Cecily, who’s sitting next to him with their baby cradled in her arms. “Wanted to thank Dad, in particular. You’ve been busting your ass around here a lot since Jackson got hurt and…it’s meant a lot.”
Dad winks at him, saying nothing and everything.
Denny holds a hand over his daughter’s exposed ear like a muff before shouting, “Beers on Austin.”
Raucous cheers from all the ranch hands.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Austin holds his hands up to stop them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I have more to say.”
“For the first time in his life, Aus has more to say?” The words slip from my lips before I realize what’s happening. Bizarre younger brother muscle memory, I guess.
Kate snickers, rapping her fingertips against my denim-clad thigh.
“Cute. You’re bickering like when you guys were kids,” Blair muses between bites of cheesy bun.
Everyone—even Austin—laughs at that.
“Okay, if you’ll all let me finish.” Austin raises an annoyed eyebrow.
Kate puts a quick halt to the waning laughter with a bold, threatening, “Enough.”
“Thanks, Kate,” Austin says. “Anyway, I also wanted to thank Red.”
Slowly lowering the bowl of chili he’s slurping up, Red cocks his head at him.
“You already know you’re like a brother to me.”
Red’s mouth drops and he whisper-yells loud enough we all hear him. “He finally admits it.”
“Don’t make me regret what I’m about to say.
” Austin shakes his head. He’s so damn amused by all of this.
Night and day from the interactions I had with him when he came to the hospital after the accident—he was so stoic and gruff, and I hated seeing a grown man who was hardened by life, because my older brother was quiet and determined as a kid, but he wasn’t a grump.
This version of Austin in front of me today is who I remember.
“So get on with it, then,” Denny chirps, grinning at our brother.
“Red—you’ve always been so much more than a friend or a ranch hand. You’re one of my brothers. And this year, you’ve single-handedly kept this place running. You took so much weight off all of our shoulders, and…I just really wanted to thank you, man.”
Red’s lips press into a thin smile, and he nods along with what Austin’s saying. “That’s what brothers are for.”
“Denver, Jackson, and I were talking a while back…before the accident, but it feels even more merited now. This place is as much yours as it is ours, and we want to make it official. Give you a piece of the ranch—the business and the land.”
I don’t remember this conversation, naturally, but it feels right. Even with limited memories of the last thirty-some years, I know he’s one of us. This day should’ve come years ago.
“I don’t…I don’t know what to say.” Red sniffs back his emotion, giving Cassidy’s hand a squeeze before standing. He steps into Austin with a firm, back-smacking hug. “Thanks, man. Love you.”
Denny shimmies between two chairs to join them. “Love you guys.”
Thanks to a gentle shove from Kate, I’m reminded that I’m technically part of this conversation, too. So I stand up and a few seconds later, my arms are wrapped around my brothers.
The hug turns into an awkward group pile-on, which gets even worse when Colt joins in, grinning like an idiot and throwing an arm over all of us. “Is this a brother-hug or a cult initiation? ’Cause I’m down either way.”
The entire group of us shift, nearly imploding or toppling over, and Cassidy shouts, “Sit your sentimental asses down before one of you falls into the fire.”
“Please,” Cecily adds. “Can we not have any more hospital visits this year?”
So we break it up, and I sink back into my seat with a sigh.
“You good?” Kate quietly asks.
“Yeah, I feel…lucky.” It feels like a weird admission, given everything that’s happened. But it’s true.
“Because you are. We all are.” Her thumb begins its usual routine. Hearts on my skin. I’m so damn lucky.
Across the fire, Colt raises his beer. “To Red!”
Everyone joins in, with an echo that has the kids stopping mid-play to stare at us.
Red lifts his chili in a mock salute. “And to Austin. For pretending to hate us all but secretly being a giant softie.”
Austin groans. “Wasn’t pretending.”
“And to Jackson,” Kate says suddenly. The spotlight feels unearned and uncomfortable, but the way she says it—soft and sure—pulls everyone’s eyes to her. “For being here. For fighting his way back to us.”
My dad tips his hat toward me with a quiet, “Damn right.”
“Fuck it, let’s cheers to everything. It’s making the beer go down quick.” Denny laughs, holding up his nearly empty bottle. “To Wells Ranch.”
The best damn home, family, life anyone could ever ask for. No memories required—this feeling is enough.
“To Wells Ranch.”