15. Evie
Evie
Gabriel drives us to Havenridge for the family meeting later that afternoon. It’s a short drive, just over the ridge to the adjacent property. They share a boundary line that can be reached on horseback, but we decided to drive.
He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as the truck rumbles over the ranch road, while the other finds mine, the way it has a habit of doing now.
I thread my fingers through his, and he smiles without taking his eyes off the road.
I think back to this morning. I don't think I'll ever get over what he did. Not because he bought me a horse, but because he saw me. Really saw me.
He hasn’t tried to make me fit into his life. He’s quietly made room for mine.
My father always tried to decide who I should become. Gabriel simply embraced who I already was.
I glance across at him. He’s humming quietly along with the radio.
He catches me looking.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he says, “and we won’t make it to Havenridge.”
I laugh. “Wasn’t last night and this morning enough for you?”
His eyes flick to mine for the briefest second before returning to the road.
“Darlin’,” he says, a smile tugging at his mouth, “I’ll never get enough of you.”
My breath catches.
He says it so simply. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I turn toward the window before he can see the ridiculous smile spreading across my face.
The road curves between stands of pine before opening onto another ranch. Havenridge doesn’t announce itself with a grand entrance; it simply unfolds. Green pasture. White fencing. A weathered red barn. A newer barn painted green. A wraparound porch crowded with rocking chairs.
The front door flies open before Gabriel has even switched off the engine. A curvy redhead in a flour-dusted apron smiles so warmly that I’m halfway to smiling back before she says a word.
As soon as we hit the porch, she pulls me into a hug that smells faintly of cinnamon and bread.
“Hi, Evie. I’m Shay. It’s good to meet you.” She casts a faintly accusatory glance over my shoulder at Gabriel. “About time he brought you to Havenridge.”
“Hello to you too, Shay,” Gabriel says.
Shay releases me and immediately throws her arms around Gabriel.
He hugs her back with a long-suffering sigh. “You done?”
“Not even close.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
I’d always assumed Gabriel simply wasn’t much of a hugger. Apparently, he just saves them for family.
“Been too long since you visited, Gabe,” Shay says, finally releasing him. She pats his cheek. “We’ve missed you. I even baked your favorite pie.”
“I believe you.” A smile tugs at his mouth. “The entire ranch smells like huckleberry.”
Her green eyes sparkle. “Not my fault the whole county loves my pies.”
“The whole county loves you.”
Shay presses a hand to her chest. “Careful. Keep talking like that and people will think you’ve gone soft.”
Gabriel’s expression doesn’t change. “Don’t start rumors.”
I laugh.
Shay winks at me, loops her arm through mine, and starts steering me toward the front door. “Come on. Everyone’s inside.”
The warmth hits me the moment she opens the front door.
The kitchen is alive.
A tall man is stirring something on the stove. Laughter rolls in from somewhere deeper in the house. The smell of roast beef, fresh bread, and huckleberry pie scents the air.
For one impossible second, I just stand there.
It’s... loud.
Comfortably loud, like every room is being lived in.
An older man sits at the head of the kitchen table with a dark-haired toddler balanced happily on his knee. He looks up as we walk in, his weathered face breaking into an easy smile.
“Well,” he says, bouncing the little boy once. “About time we met the young woman who’s got Gabriel smiling again.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks.
Gabriel frowns. “I smiled before.”
“Not voluntarily.”
The older man stands, carefully shifting the little boy into one arm before offering me his free hand. “I’m Ben Sutton. Jacob’s brother.”
His handshake is firm and warm and immediately reassuring.
He glances down at the little boy, who’s now studying me with solemn gray eyes. “And this young fella is Max. Henry and Shay’s boy.”
Max immediately decides my necklace looks interesting.
“That’s about the extent of his conversational skills,” Ben says dryly.
The broad-shouldered man at the stove turns and walks toward us. He has dark hair and thoughtful gray eyes. He tips his head.
“I’m Henry.”
Shay slips her hand into his without looking, their fingers fitting together like second nature.
“My husband,” she says with obvious satisfaction.
Henry glances down at her, his whole expression softening. “Favorite title I’ve got.”
Shay’s grin widens. “Good answer.”
A quiet blonde woman carrying a bowl steps forward next. “I’m Luna.”
The man beside her rests an easy hand against the small of her back. “I’m Angus.” His blue eyes are kind despite the scar that runs from the corner of his left eye almost to his mouth. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
Before I can answer, a tiny blonde appears carrying an armful of napkins. She nearly collides with the man following behind her.
“You’re here!” she says brightly. “I’m Kitty.”
For a moment, I wonder how she and Delaney can possibly be sisters. Kitty is petite and blonde, while Delaney is taller with her hair several shades darker.
Then Kitty smiles.
Suddenly, the resemblance is unmistakable.
“And I’m Tom,” says the dark-haired man beside her with the resigned expression of someone familiar with introducing himself.
Kitty beams. “I was excited.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“I've been excited since yesterday.”
“I also know.”
She gives her husband a small frown. “You don’t sound excited.”
“I’m conserving my energy.”
“For what?”
He smiles. “You.”
She dissolves into laughter, clutching his arm for balance.
I can’t help but laugh with her.
Kitty’s joy seems to spill into every corner of the room, bright and completely unselfconscious, and I find myself thinking how close the world came to losing that light. A poisoned well. One drink too many from the wrong tap, and this tiny woman with the enormous smile almost never laughed again.
My gaze drifts to Luna.
She catches me looking and offers that same quiet, steady smile from earlier. The faint, silvery scars disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt are almost hidden now. A reminder of the barn fire that almost claimed her life.
I look around the kitchen. Ben bounces his grandson on his knee. Shay steals a kiss from Henry as she passes him another dish. Tom pretends to grumble while Kitty laughs at him.
And Gabriel, watching all of them with that quiet affection he rarely puts into words.
These aren’t stories anymore.
They’re people. People someone tried to destroy.
And somehow, despite everything, they’ve chosen laughter anyway.
The back door opens again.
“We’re here,” Ethan calls.
He steps inside first, Jenna tucked against his side. Daniel follows with a casserole dish balanced in one hand, while Delaney comes in behind him carrying two bulging tote bags that almost certainly contain enough supplies to survive the apocalypse.
Jacob is last.
He pauses just inside the doorway, brushing the dust from his boots before he looks up. His gaze finds Gabriel first. For the briefest moment, an emotion I can’t name passes between them.
Gabriel gives the smallest nod.
Jacob returns it.
It isn’t much. A lifetime of things left unsaid, compressed into a nod.
But I do.
Then Jacob looks at me and the corners of his mouth soften. “Afternoon, Evie.”
Sadness lingers in his eyes, not fresh or sharp, but something older that’s settled deep.
Delaney appears beside me. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“Morning sickness?”
“Mostly gone.”
“Heartburn?”
“A little.”
She pulls a small notebook from her jeans pocket and scribbles something down.
I stare. “Are you writing this down?”
Daniel appears behind her and gently plucks the notebook from her hands.
“I haven’t even started the checklist,” Delaney objects, frowning at her husband. “I’ve got a list of birthing classes, car seats, bassinets, and—”
Daniel raises an eyebrow. “Laney.”
She sighs. “Okay, I’ll wait until after lunch.”
Jenna slips her arm through Delaney’s. “Come on. Let the poor woman finish one meal before you organize the next eighteen years of her life.”
Delaney considers that. “That’s probably fair.”
I watch them drift back toward the kitchen together.
Daniel shakes his head affectionately while Delaney continues talking, clearly undeterred.
“You know,” he says, “it’s how she shows she loves people.”
I smile as the words settle warmly in my chest. “I know.”
A few weeks ago, these people were strangers. Now they’re making room for me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
By the time we all sit down, the table has somehow grown.
Someone’s added leaves to it. Extra chairs have appeared from nowhere. Every dish seems to have multiplied while my back was turned, and I honestly don’t know how all these people are going to fit.
Somehow, they do.
Ben takes one end of the table, Jacob the other.
Henry and Shay sit together with Max between them in a highchair, where he’s determined to feed himself mashed potato with all the enthusiasm and none of the accuracy of a one-year-old.
Tom quietly swaps napkins with Kitty because Cheese Puff, the family goat, apparently stole one on the way through the kitchen.
Angus reaches for Luna’s hand beneath the table without looking, and she threads her fingers through his as naturally as breathing.
Daniel waits until everyone else has served themselves before reaching for the roast. Delaney notices Shay’s water glass is nearly empty before Shay notices herself and silently refills it.
No one thanks her. Not because they’re ungrateful. Because they all seem to take care of one another without keeping score.
Gabriel pulls out my chair before taking the one beside me. His hand brushes the small of my back for just a second. Checking. Always checking.
I catch myself smiling. Across the table, Shay catches it too. She doesn’t say a word. She just smiles into her own plate like she’s seen exactly what she hoped she would.
Conversation flows around me. Not one conversation. Half a dozen.
Tom is insisting Cheese Puff is smarter than most politicians. Kitty is arguing that’s setting the bar unfairly low. Ben is telling Max in complete seriousness that gravy is an essential food group. Henry is asking Daniel how the veterans’ program is settling in over at Stoneridge.
Daniel nods. “Three new vets last week.”
“How’re they doing?”
“Better than when they arrived.”
“Good.”
That’s all.
Nobody makes a speech about it or pats themselves on the back. Helping people seems to be as ordinary to this family as passing the salt.
I sit back for a moment and simply watch the teasing, the interruptions, the easy affection. Nobody is trying to impress anyone or wondering who has the biggest house or the best title or the most money.
They’re just… living. Together.
I look around the table and think… this is what family actually looks like.
Then my eyes find Gabriel. He’s already looking at me, as if seeing me here is enough.
I smile.
He smiles back. Small. Private. Mine.