Chapter Thirty-Two
I barely have both boots on the ground before I hear the screen door slap open. Then a blur of dark hair and sunshine flies straight at me.
Charli’s running full tilt. And then she’s airborne, leaping into my arms.
I catch her with ease, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like I was made to. Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms hook around my neck, and she lets out a sigh that lands right against my throat. Like she’s been waiting to be back in my arms all day.
Behind us, Albert chuckles, low and warm. “Guess that’s my cue to go on in,” he says.
He heads for the porch, and Matty’s on his heels.
But I don’t move. Not yet. I just stand there with Charli holding me, looking up at me expectantly with those bright blue eyes.
“So, how’d it go?” she asks.
“Great,” I tell her. “Your father and I reached a mutually beneficial agreement.”
She squints one eye at me. “That sounds like lawyer talk, cowboy. Tell it to me plain.”
I laugh. “We signed on the dotted line, and our attorneys are already working together to file all the paperwork we need to start the new LLC.”
Her mouth drops open. “So … it’s happening?”
“It’s happening,” I assure her, grinning. “Raintree-Storm Rodeo Academy is officially green-lit. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, we’ll be able to break ground on the new facilities this fall.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and then, without warning, she starts peppering my face with kisses. My forehead, my cheeks, my chin, everywhere.
“Chuck, stop,” I try, but she doesn’t listen.
“Stop what?” she says between kisses.
“That!” I groan, twisting a little. “I’m starving, woman.”
She pulls back just enough to smile, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “So, what you’re sayin’ is, if I keep it up, we won’t make it inside for dinner?”
“Exactly.”
She grins wider, leans in again, and I do what any man in his right mind would do. I kiss her. Slow at first, just a brush of lips that turns hungry the second she exhales against me. She tastes like sweet tea and sin.
When we finally pull apart, both our hearts are racing.
“Come on,” I say, adjusting my grip on her as I head for the porch steps.
“Bryce, what are you doing?” She laughs, wriggling in my arms.
“Carrying you over the threshold,” I say, dead serious but smiling.
Her brows lift.
“Into our future.”
She groans, rolling her eyes. “Corny, cowboy.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”
She tries to fight a smile and fails. “Fine. But don’t ever say somethin’ that cheesy in front of my sisters, or they’ll never let you live it down.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Inside, the kitchen is alive with noise and warmth.
Boone and Irene sit side by side at one end of the table, whispering something that makes Irene giggle.
Cabe’s laughing loud enough to shake the windows, trying to tell a story while Earl keeps correcting his details.
Evelyn’s spooning mashed potatoes onto everyone’s plates, and Matty’s talking over them all, trying to get a word in edgewise.
Shelby’s already got a full plate in front of her, which doesn’t surprise me one bit.
It smells like home—roast beef, green beans with bacon, cornbread, and something sweet baking in the oven.
When we walk in, all eyes turn toward us.
“Well, look at that. We weren’t sure you two’d make it inside,” Matty says with a grin. “You owe me five bucks, Shell.”
Shelby groans. Then cuts her eyes to me. “You couldn’t keep the make-out session going for ten more minutes?”
Albert’s quiet gaze meets mine. His smile is subtle, indulgent.
Charli wiggles in my arms, and this time, I let her down gently. She slides into her seat beside Shelby, who immediately grabs her hand, excitement written all over her face.
I take the empty chair next to Albert.
Evelyn raises her glass of iced tea. “To new beginnings,” she says. “And to Bryce Raintree officially joining the Wildhaven Storm family.”
Everyone lifts their glasses, even Albert.
I grin and nod. “Appreciate that, ma’am.”
They launch into a million questions about our meeting this afternoon, and Matty patiently explains how we hammered out the details of the new rodeo school, how Wildhaven Storm Ranch will provide the land and foundation, and how I’ll provide the funds and oversee the hiring and instruction, marketing, and brand partnerships.
It’s a perfect balance, a blend of history and vision, past and future.
Charli listens intently. Every so often, she looks at me, and I can tell she’s seeing it all play out in her mind—the arenas, the students, the horses, the dust and the glory.
When Matty finishes, everyone cheers. Boone pounds the table, Earl nods with pride, and Charli raises her glass.
“To the next chapter,” she says softly.
We drink to that.
And as the chatter swells again, I lean back for a second, just watching.
This family—it’s chaos and beauty, wrapped into one. A tangle of stubborn hearts and open hands. They fight hard, love harder, and never give up on the people they care about or each other.
When I first got here, I didn’t think I’d stay a week. I was carrying a chip the size of Texas on my shoulder, convinced I didn’t belong here and determined to be miserable.
But these people … they broke me down.
Not with judgment. Not with pity. With laughter, teasing, and second chances. With family dinners and early mornings and the kind of work that leaves you too tired to overthink.
And Charli—hell, she broke me wide open.
I glance at her across the table. She’s laughing at something Shelby said, head thrown back, her eyes crinkled at the corners. She’s beauty, pure and wild. The kind a man stands in awe of.
Earl nudges my shoulder. “You look like a man in love, son.”
“I am,” I say quietly.
He grins, slow and knowing. “Then you’re one of us.”
Dinner rolls on with seconds and stories from the workday while Evelyn serves up dessert.
By the time dishes are cleared and everyone starts to drift toward their separate spaces, the sun’s dipping low behind the barn. The sky’s painted in pinks and golds.
Charli slips her hand into mine. “Come on,” she whispers. “I wanna show you something.”
She leads me past the barn, down to the fence line overlooking the lower pastures. The horses are grazing, their coats glinting in the fading light. She leans against the rail, and I move behind her, resting my hands on her shoulders.
“This,” she says quietly, “is what it’s all about. Not the fame or the name or even the school.”
I follow her gaze back toward the house, where the windows glow warm with lamplight, shadows moving inside.
“This is what it’s all about,” I echo.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the promise I want to make. “Thank you, for sharing this with me. It feels like home. And I haven’t had one of those in a long time.”
Her eyes glisten in the twilight. Her forehead resting against mine. “Good. ’Cause you’re on chore duty in the morning.”
I chuckle. “Yes, ma’am. You’re the boss.”