Chapter 24
Kayla
I chew on my lower lip, taking a step back to take in my work.
I could have waited for Colter to help me, but then that would ruin the surprise.
Instead, I girl bossed this shit. The large framed chalkboard hangs pretty perfectly straight on the wall above the boot rack.
I didn’t have a hammer to nail it into the wall, so I used one of my pairs of heels as an alternative. It worked really well, actually.
Dropping the shoe back down onto the shoe rack, I grab the stack of pictures Ben has drawn since I came home from Chicago.
There’s the welcome home card, the photo he drew of himself standing between Mandy and Sylvie on one side, and Colt and me on the other.
Then there’s a photo of a dog, his latest effort to get a ranch dog.
I mean, seriously, what kind of ranch doesn’t have a dog?
It might be a little overly optimistic, but maybe if Colt has to look at the drawing of a puppy every day, he’ll break down and buy us one.
Brushing my hair out of my face, I smile at my ingenious idea. Now, Ben can hang his artwork again. It might not be on the fridge, but I think front and center in the foyer is a pretty good alternative.
“Ben, come check this out,” I call. Clad in his John Deere hat and little belt buckle, Ben comes skidding around the corner.
“Are those my pictures?” He asks, instantly clocking the new feature on the wall.
“Sure are,” I smile proudly. “What do you say? Is it better than the fridge?”
“Uh, duh! Thank you, Kay!” His little arms circle my waist as he hugs me tight. “This is so cool.”
“How long until you think your Dad notices?” I ask, hugging him back. His hugs are quickly becoming one of my favorite parts of my day.
“I bet you he notices right away,” Ben says, so confident in his Dad’s observation skills. Keep in mind, this is the guy who didn’t notice when Dixie got out and was munching on the flowers on the porch steps. He patted her on the shoulder as he walked right on by.
“If he doesn’t, then he’s gonna need to go with you when you get your eyes checked.”
“I don’t like getting my eyes checked,” Ben scrunches his nose. “Do I really have to go again?”
“Yeah, Bud. You do.”
“Ugh.” The excitement of the new chalkboard evidently outweighed by his dislike for the doctor, Ben stomps out of the room, grumbling under his breath.
“Still a win,” I shrug, following the little grump into the living room. His afternoon cartoons play on the television, and you could barely tell it’s the last day of school. Our daily routine makes it feel like any other day.
“When is Nick coming over?” Ben asks, jumping across the couch cushions to get back to his spot.
“Hey, you know better,” I scold. “He’ll be here in a few hours. He’s got soccer practice first.”
“Can I take soccer next year?” He asks, leaning back to see behind him.
“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask your Dad.”
“Why?”
“Because he and your moms will decide whether you’ll have time or not.”
“Why can’t you?”
Well, ain’t that one hell of a question. I don’t really know how to answer it.
Spinning on my heel, I make my way around the kitchen island, tapping the countertop as I go. “They know your schedule better than I do,” I lie, suddenly feeling parched. I could really use a glass of water—or some wine.
“Are you going to come with us tomorrow?” He asks again, ever the curious little boy.
“I am,” I confirm. Colt had insisted I join them on their trip to Billings. Ben’s gonna have a busy day, getting his eyes checked, and then getting tested for dyscalculia. But he’s been promised ice cream and a motel with a swimming pool, so he’s pretty excited.
“Okay,” he nods, turning back to his show, conversation done, I guess.
“Hello?” The porch door swings shut, Colt’s voice calling for his son.
Ben, who is too engrossed in his TV show, completely ignores his father.
Shaking my head, I make my way down the hallway to greet him instead.
“Well, one out of two ain’t bad,” he smiles, placing his hat on the rack. “How was your last day, Sweets?”
“Sad,” I answer truthfully, leaning into his open arms for a hug. “Those three months flew by way too fast.”
“You’ll be back there in two months.” Colt sways back and forth, pulling me with him.
“Don’t rush my summer,” I scoff, words muffled by his chest.
“I see you’ve been busy since getting home,” he pulls away from me, taking his warmth and comfort with him. He points to the chalkboard behind him. “I like it.”
“Even Pippy?” I point to the picture of the puppy.
“I’m not getting a dog,” it’s Colt’s turn to scoff, taking off down the hallway to greet his son. “And if I did end up with a dog, I sure as fuck wouldn’t name it Pippy.”
“Language!” I gasp, and Ben snickers from where he’s being swallowed by the large cushions of the couch.
“It's summer now, we don’t have to worry about it,” Colt waves me off. “How was your day, Bud?”
“It was good. Kay took us to the park with Ms. Betty’s class.”
“Man, if I’d known it was gonna be all fun and no work, I would’ve kept you home to work on the ranch,” Colt teases, pulling Ben’s hat off his head and ruffling his blond hair.
“I’m retiring from work,” Ben tells his father, seriously, grabbing for his hat.
“We’re indoors, you don’t need no hat.” He tosses the hat onto the kitchen island, and then comes around the counter to crowd my space. “So, what time is Nick coming over?”
“You and your son,” I mutter, shaking my head. “It’s on the calendar.”
“Yeah, but we both know you have it memorized already,” Colt smiles cheekily, shrugging his broad shoulders. He’s gotten some sun today, and his neck is a bright red.
“He’ll be here in about thirty minutes.”
“Cool, I’m gonna go hop in the shower, then we can get the fire started.
You gonna help me out, Ben?” He calls to his son.
A thumbs up pops up over the back of the couch, and we both chuckle.
“Alright then.” Pressing a firm kiss to my forehead, Colt saunters off down the hall, leaving me to get all the food out for the Williams’ annual end-of-school bonfire.
Later that night, the fire crackles, sending tiny sparks into the air as the sun dips below the hills. The scent of charred wood and sizzling hot dogs floats through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and classic country music humming from Mandy’s speaker.
Sylvie and Mandy are parked in one of those two-person folding chairs, sipping sweet tea and comparing the size of the blisters they got weeding the garden last weekend.
Jake and Finn, forever in some kind of competition, are trying to one-up each other with who can throw a marshmallow higher and catch it in their mouth.
So far, Finn is winning—and letting everyone know about it.
I’m just happy Ben and Nick aren’t trying to copy the two giant idiots.
I’m at the picnic table, laying out paper plates and digging through a cooler for the watermelon I cut up earlier.
Colt’s behind me, working the grill like it’s a cattle drive—focused, efficient, and grumbling at anyone who tries to sneak food before it’s ready.
His hat is low over his brow, and his neck is still that same red from earlier, but this time I know he has sunscreen on cause I forced him to wear it.
Ben and his best friend, Nick, have made a fort out of folding chairs and a blanket draped over one side of the woodpile.
Their giggles echo louder than the crickets.
Ben’s got chocolate on his cheek, and his John Deere hat’s on backwards.
Nick is trying to convince him that if they stay up all night, they’ll see a shooting star and maybe even a UFO.
"Kay!" Sylvie calls over to me, lifting her cup. "You really outdid yourself with this spread. And that chalkboard in the foyer? Genius."
Mandy nods, scooting her chair closer. "You’re practically running the place now."
I just smile, brushing my hands on my shorts. “Don’t let Colt hear you say that. He’ll start asking me to handle the accounts, too.”
Colt glances up from the grill. “Too late.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” I call back, and he flashes me that crooked grin that always makes my stomach flutter, even when I pretend it doesn’t.
“Hey,” I turn my attention back to the two moms. “Ben mentioned today wanting to try soccer out next spring. I told him to talk to Colt about it. I hope that’s okay? ”
“Sure,” they shrug, looking at each other. “We can discuss it closer to registration, but I don’t see why not.” Mandy looks to me, eyes expressive like she’s asking for my opinion. “Sounds good?”
“Uh, I guess?” I look behind me to where Colt is keeping me under his watchful eye.
“Okay, let us know if, once you talk to Colt, he has any objections.” And just like that, the conversation closes, with me as an active contributor to Ben’s extracurricular activities.
When the fuck did that happen?
The bonfire continues to glow brighter, casting everyone in warm orange light. In the field, the crickets play their own music. Every once in a while, you hear the cows mooing, breaking the crackle of the fire, and the chirping of the crickets.
As the evening settles into that perfect space between loud and quiet, Ben runs up to me, tugging my hand.
“Come sit with us,” he says, already pulling me toward the blanket fort. I follow, crouching down beside the boys as they whisper about space aliens and who would win in a fight, a Grizzly bear or a Silverback gorilla. My vote is a Silverback gorilla. It’s a vote I’m heavily judged for.
I glance back toward the fire. Colt’s standing now, beer in one hand, plate of food in the other, talking to Jake and laughing at something he said.
He catches me watching him and shoots me a wink.
A blush climbs its way up my neck and into my cheeks, and I know he sees it by the smug smile that breaks out across his face.
“Boys,” he calls, pulling their attention away from their heated discussion. “I think it’s time for the best part.” He gestures to their backpacks, loaded down with all of the school work from the past year.
“Yay!” Ben cheers, charging forward.
“Ben,” Sylvie scolds, shaking her head. “No running around the fire, please.”
“Sure, Mom,” he smiles innocently, brushing away her concern. He turns to his friend, already on a different train of thought. “I’m burning math first. Math sucks!”
“Hey,” I cry indignantly. “I thought I made it kind of fun.” He looks at me, no emotion in his brown eyes, and shrugs.
Well, alrighty then.
Standing, I make my way around the fire to his chuckling father. “I guess I wasn’t as fun and cool as I thought,” I huff, leaning into his body warmth.
“Aw, it’s okay, Sweets. You’re cool to me.”
“That just makes it worse,” I groan, and Jake sputters out a laugh around his mouthful of beer.
“That seemed unnecessary,” Colt grumbles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He presses another kiss to my forehead, something he’s been doing a lot since our near-kiss at Wild Hogs.
“Sorry, Babe,” I turn my head, and smile up at him, batting my eyelashes innocently.
“Uh-huh, sure.”
The flames grow higher as the boys throw paper after paper into the fire, talking about their favorite activities and their least favorite activities of the year. Thankfully, my ego doesn’t get too bruised through the process, most of their least favorites were from before my time as their teacher.
The laughter gets louder as Finn tries to convince Nick that recess doesn’t count as a subject, and Jake pretends to be personally offended that lunch didn’t get rated number one.
The schoolwork crackles and curls into ash, each page catching and folding into glowing embers—a ceremonial goodbye to a year that was too long and too short all at once.
Mandy and Sylvie are still trading stories and teasing each other about their teenage years, something about prom dates and borrowed boots. I catch snatches of it between Finn and Jake arguing over who was a worse student back in the day.
“I failed algebra twice, thank you very much,” Jake boasts, holding up two fingers like it's a badge of honor.
Finn snorts. “Yeah, but you barely failed. I got a zero on half of my tests.”
“Hey, a fail is a fail,” Jake defends his failing mark.
Ben, curled beside the fire now, looks up with wide eyes. “You both failed math?”
“Sure did,” Jake grins. “But math doesn’t matter when you have a family business to fall back on, especially when your brother does all the number stuff.”
Ben considers this, looking from his uncle to his dad. “Dad, I think I need a brother.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Jake smiles. “Ben needs a brother.”
Colt groans. “Please don’t encourage him.”
Jake smirks and tosses a marshmallow up, catching it clean in his mouth on the first try this time. “I’m just saying, the family legacy is safer with more of us running around.”
I chuckle and glance toward Ben, who seems equal parts amused and horrified. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “You’re doing way better than your uncles ever did in math. I have no doubt when the time comes, you’ll be ready to take your Dad’s place, and do better than him and your Uncle combined.”
Ben hums thoughtfully, then leans over and whispers something to Nick, probably another theory about aliens or a new plan for staying up past bedtime.
Their eyes glow in the firelight, both boys sticky with sugar, and I can’t help the warmth that swells in my chest. Whatever this life is, chaotic, loud, a little sticky, it feels good. Real.
Colt’s fingers brush over mine. “You’re good with him,” he says, quiet, private.
“I love him,” I confess, just as softly. “It’s easy.” I love all my students—in a way. Loving Ben just comes more naturally, since I live with him and everything.
“We have him on the car ride to Billings on Sunday, but Sylvie and Mandy are taking him for the night.” It doesn’t feel like he’s telling me this just to keep me in the loop. There’s a promise that lingers beneath his words.
“Can’t wait,” I answer honestly, ignoring the lump of nerves that grows in my throat. “Hey, Colt?”
“Yeah, Sweets?”
“Does Billings have a Starbucks?”
My answer comes in the form of a groan and a curse.