Chapter Twelve
The low thrum of conversation and the familiar twang of a jukebox country song wrapped around Kade as he and Cassie entered the Whiskey Moon.
Most of his siblings and their spouses were already there, having claimed a large table that took up most of the back wall of the small local hangout.
Garret raised a beer in greeting, a wide grin on his face.
It wasn’t often they all managed to carve out the same night for a celebration, but between Clint’s promotion to foreman, the ranch finally showing a profit, and the sheer miracle of their mother remaining blissfully unaware of their arrangement, a celebration seemed in order.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Carson called out, his own smile easy and relaxed in a way Kade hadn’t seen in months.
“Just in time,” Jillian added, gesturing to the fresh round of beers the waitress was setting on their table. “We were about to toast to ourselves.”
Chairs shifted, making room for the two of them. Sitting side by side, crammed closely together in the tight space, Kade found his hand automatically seeking hers under the table, their fingers lacing together in a gesture that felt less like a performance and more like a simple, necessary truth.
With everyone seated and conversation picking up again, Preston tapped his glass with a piece of cutlery. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
Silence fell, at least in this one corner of the bustling establishment, and glasses were raised.
“To turning a corner.”
“Hear, hear,” voices echoed.
“To Clint and a real ranch hand,” Garret added.
“And to Mom never figuring out what we were really up to,” Rachel finished, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
A chorus of laughter went around the tables. Kade looked at the faces of his siblings, at the incredible women who had joined them, and a profound sense of gratitude washed over him. They had done it. They had pulled the ranch back from the brink.
“And,” Preston continued, “to our newest sort-of sister-in-law. With the ranch standing on solid ground for probably the first time since Dad died, and certainly since that idiot foreman bled us all dry, Cassie’s help in making rotations and a few other things more efficient, I officially pronounce the Sweet Ranch safe from foreclosure! ”
His gaze landed on Cassie. Her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, a small, genuine smile touched her lips. She belonged here. The thought was no longer a surprise; it was a simple, undeniable fact.
The sound of glasses jostling had Kade turning to the table behind them.
Jacob, the kid from the hardware store the other day, was busing the now empty table of six.
His movements jerky and rushed, his gaze darted from the table to the bin of dirty glasses and silverware at his side to the patrons dispersed throughout, laughing and drinking, and even dancing.
The kid’s face screamed fatigue and determination at the same time.
“It’s a shame.”
Kade turned to face his brother, realizing his gaze was on the same kid.
“Jacob is working harder than the rest of the staff combined.”
“Must want that new car pretty badly.” Rachel had followed her brother’s gazes.
“Doubt it.” Garret shook his head, sighed, and took a short sip of his drink. “I’m guessing it has more to do with his sister.”
Taking one quick glance around the room, the kid seemed almost nervous before hauling the refuse from the table across the place and into the kitchen.
Facing his brother again, Kade reached for his drink. “He seems more stressed than any teen should be. More stressed than someone working to pay for a car or some other trinket. What’s the deal?”
“Emily has some spine disorder. Poor kid has had to wear a brace for as long as I can remember. It has to be miserably uncomfortable for her.”
“And don’t forget expensive,” Rachel added. “The way kids grow, those custom fit suckers have to be redone every so often.” She sighed and shook her head. “I hate to admit it but I think you may be right. I forgot that I’d heard Jacob’s dad is working nights now at the fertilizer plant.”
“Can I get anyone another round?” Their waitress stood at one end of the table, an empty tray under her arm. One by one, she scribbled requests on a pad and then smiled up at them. “Got it. Be right back.”
The conversations flowed and Kade couldn’t help but think how right all of this felt.
How much he missed his family. He loved serving his country.
He truly believed what he did made a difference in the world, but he’d never missed all of this as much as he did right now.
His gaze shifted to Cassie, chatting with Jillian and laughing at something she’d just said.
Maybe it wasn’t just the ranch and his siblings that were missing in his life.
“Here we go.” The waitress appeared looking a bit more harried, her smile buried under the slightest of scowls.
“Everything okay, Kat?” His sister must have noticed the change in disposition.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” The woman forced a smile.
“Must be a full moon or something. We seem to be overrun tonight with cheap tippers. I mean, I know times are tough for everyone, but still.” She heaved a sigh, and shaking her head slightly, forced a wider smile.
“I forgot your Shiner, I’ll be right back. ”
Spinning on her heel, the waitress hurried back to the bar, pausing a moment to deal with another table.
“I know how she feels.” Cassie’s eyes were following the woman. “When you’re on your own, no real skills, so to speak, no chance for an annual bonus that will pad the down payment fund, no hopes of a key to the executive washroom, it can be tough.”
Still holding her hand, he gave it a quick squeeze. Nothing about what she’d just said sat well with him, and everything in him wanted to make sure she never felt that way again. The only problem: what was he going to do about it?
Cassie’s insides were still aflutter thinking about the wonderful toast that Preston had made, giving her more credit than she deserved. Pride filled her chest to the point of bursting. Never in her life had she been held in such high esteem by anyone.
The jukebox shifted from an upbeat George Strait number to something slower, softer—an old Alan Jackson ballad that seemed to quiet the room.
Couples drifted toward the small dance floor, bodies swaying in the dim light.
The evening had flowed like the beer, easy and warm, making it almost possible to forget that this wasn’t actually her family, that her place among them had an expiration date.
Kade’s hand, still holding hers under the table, gave a gentle squeeze. When she turned to him, his eyes held a question.
“Dance with me?”
Her throat tightened at the unexpected invitation. They’d danced before, on that neon-drenched street in Vegas, a performance for no one but themselves. This felt different—intentional, intimate. She nodded, unable to find her voice.
Kade led her to the dance floor, his fingers threaded through hers, the warmth of his palm against her skin a grounding presence.
When he turned to face her, drawing her into his arms, the world condensed to just this moment, just this man.
One hand settled on the small of her back, a firm, warm pressure, the heat of it seeping through the thin fabric of her shirt.
His other hand held hers, his thumb drawing slow, idle circles over her knuckles.
They were dancing closer than was strictly necessary, closer than they’d been since that night she couldn’t fully remember.
They moved slowly across the floor, finding their rhythm without effort.
With every step, she was hyper-aware of everything: the solid feel of his chest so close to hers, the faint, clean scent of his soap, the way his breath stirred the hair at her temple as he leaned in slightly.
The pretend walls she’d been trying so hard to maintain were dissolving, melting away with every heartwarming beat of the old tune.
This wasn’t an act. This feeling, this dizzying, terrifying, wonderful feeling, was very real.
She risked a glance up at him and found him already watching her, his expression serious, intense.
The laughter was gone from his eyes, replaced by a raw vulnerability that mirrored her own.
The rest of the bar, his family, the music—it all faded away, leaving only the two of them.
They moved in slow circles, her body fitting against his with a rightness that frightened her.
This wasn’t part of their arrangement, this warmth spreading through her chest, this feeling of coming home.
She hadn’t agreed to this part. And yet, she wouldn’t change her mind for all the tea in China.
No, for now, for tonight, she was simply going to lean into this mountain of a man and accept the gift God had given her for however many more days it was meant to be.
Even if it meant breaking her heart when it came time to leave.
“Well, look at that.” Grinning from ear to ear, Rachel pointed at the dance floor with her chin.
“At what?” Garret shifted to face his sister, his gaze following hers. “The dance floor?”
Rolling her eyes, Jillian shook her head, then playfully smacked her brother. “Not the dance floor. The dancers.”
The way their brother focused, eyes narrowed, Rachel hoped he was a better school teacher than observer. If not, the future of America was doomed. “Kade and Cassie.”
Like a comic strip in an old Sunday newspaper, Garret’s eyes circled round, his jaw dropped slightly open and Rachel could almost see the light bulb turning on above his head.
“I’ll be…” Preston followed everyone’s gaze.
Carson burst out laughing. “Ten bucks says the marriage sticks.”
“I’m in on that.” his wife Jess smiled at him. “Just look at them.”
“At what?” This time the obtuse one was Preston. “They’re dancing. People dance all the time.”
“My husband, the romantic.” Sarah Sue sighed. “Honey, take a closer look. If they stood any closer, you wouldn’t be able to slip a sheet of paper between them.”
“And the way he’s gazing into her eyes,” Jackie added.
Jess chuckled. “Like she was a banana split with whipped cream and extra cherries on top.”
This time Carson nodded. “Or a Napoleon brandy about to be uncorked.”
“I think it’s sweet.” Jillian sat back, still watching the dancing couple as Kade slowly spun her around before pulling Cassie back into the circle of his arms. “No pun intended.”
“You gotta admit, the fates seem to be on our side.” Garret kept his eyes on the two dancing as well. “Five of us made marriage deals and five of us found the love of our lives. Our perfect soul mates.”
“And it looks like fate has done it again,” Rachel chimed in. “I’d bet the ranch those two are going to stay married.”
“Don’t go there,” Preston teased, then laughed. “But I do agree. They’ve got that sparkle in their eyes, and frankly, they look about ready to self-combust.”
“So no one’s betting against?” Rachel asked.
All the heads at the table turned left then right.
“Do you think,” Rachel shifted her attention from the couple on the floor to the happily married couples at the table, “we’ll ever tell Mom how the six of us wound up married?”
In complete choral unison, the voices at the table instantly echoed, “No!” then burst into laughter. Fate really did have an interesting sense of humor, didn’t she?