19. Halle
HALLE
My motorcycle’s roar dies as I kill the engine in the wide gravel lot beside the main house at Thornwood Ranch. Dust settles around me in the late afternoon light, and I pull off my helmet, shaking out my hair.
Aunt Aria texted me earlier this morning about coming out to Thornwood Ranch for a family dinner, since Colt was going back to school next week, and I couldn’t say no. Not with Ben’s loss still fresh and Colt leaving so soon. I want to make sure Rhett knows I’m there, too.
The crisp evening air carries hints of hay and distant woodsmoke from someone’s burn pile, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace.
I’ve kept my distance the past couple of weeks since I brought Cash home. He slipped out the next morning before I even woke up. Since then, it’s been nothing but short, awkward texts and quick, avoided glances the couple of times we’ve crossed paths.
Climbing the steps, the wooden boards creaking under my weight, I then push through the front door.
The kitchen smells like heaven—roast beef, fresh cornbread, green beans simmering with bacon.
Tierney and Aunt Aria dive into hugs and start chatting immediately, pulling dishes from the oven while Eli and Rhett talk cattle prices by the window.
Colt stands at the head of the long oak table, setting out plates with mechanical precision, his jaw tight.
Dawson and Makai lounge nearby, talking quietly, but their conversation dies quickly when Cash enters from the back door.
His jeans are stained with grass and dirt, flannel rolled to his elbows, hair damp from a rushed shower. He grabs a beer from the fridge without a word to anyone, twisting the cap off with his teeth. His eyes flick to me for a split second—something raw there, or regret, maybe—before he looks away.
Once all of the dishes are pulled out, we settle around the table, plates loaded, the clink of silverware filling the space where conversation should be.
Colt sits beside me, bumping my knee under the table like old times, trying to lighten things.
“Remember when Ben caught me trying to free the cows? I called you in a panic, thinking he’d skin me alive, but instead, he sat me down and explained what this ranch does and how it treats its cattle. ”
Tierney smiles, though her eyes glisten. “He had a way of teaching without breaking you. I can’t believe it’s almost been a month since he’s been gone.”
Murmurs of agreement ripple around. Eli shares a story about Ben, and how he brought Tierney into the fold before he realized she was meant to be his wife, then Luke makes a joke about how the two hated each other when they first met.
But Cash stays quiet, fork stabbing at his food more than he’s actually eating it. He’s being an asshat, grunting responses, ignoring questions, scrolling his phone when anyone tries to include him.
Dawson tried once, asking about fence repairs on the north pasture, and Cash just shrugs. “Handled it.”
The tension builds like a pressure cooker, and I catch Rhett watching his brother, brow furrowed. This is Colt’s last weekend before the new semester starts, and instead of the easy camaraderie we usually have, Cash is shutting everyone out.
“Pass the cornbread?” I ask, reaching across the table. Cash’s hand brushes mine as he hands it over, and electricity jumps between us, but he pulls back fast, like I burned him.
I dismiss the rejection, trying to keep the fragile peace we’ve built at the table.
“So, Halle, how’s the divorce? I know with everything going on we haven’t really checked in. Is it almost over?” Tierney asks.
I clear my throat, setting my fork down.
“Well, not exactly … He shredded a copy of the divorce agreement and mailed it to me with a signed, intact copy. I might have asked for easy, but Zach isn’t seeing it that way.
My lawyer called me today to let me know we should have a court date within the next month or so. ”
Aria turns to me, eyes narrowing. “That asshole. When was this? Why didn’t you say anything?” she questions.
The words get stuck in the back of my throat.
“I got them the same day … And it just didn’t seem like the right time.”
Rhett clears his throat, setting his glass down hard enough to make the silverware jump, as he sets his sights on Cash. “We need to talk about the east herd. Cash, you were supposed to help rotate them yesterday. When I checked today, they were still in that same field.”
Eli tenses, noticing the slight animosity between his boys.
Cash leans back in his chair, beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “Did it just before dinner, not that you bothered checking with me before trying to call me out in front of everyone, asshole.”
The table goes still. Tierney glances between them, worry etching her face, and Colt shifts beside me, ready to intervene.
“I checked the day I asked,” Rhett says, voice low and controlled. “It should have been done then, not a day later. You’ve been half-assing everything since the funeral, Cash. We’re all hurting, but the ranch doesn’t stop.”
Cash’s eyes flash. “Half-assing? I’ve been out there from dawn to dusk while you play the doting boyfriend and hurt grandson. Maybe if you got your hands dirty instead of riding my ass—”
“Enough,” Dawson mutters, but it’s too late.
Rhett stands, chair scraping back. “You’re the one acting like a damn child—showing up drunk at the bar, making a scene, forcing Halle to drag your sorry ass home. We all lost Grandpa. The rest of us are trying to hold it together, but you’re just making it harder on everyone.”
Cash surges to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. “At least I feel something. You’ve been walking around like a robot since the funeral—barking orders, pretending everything’s fine so you don’t have to deal with the fact that he’s actually gone. Some of us aren’t that good at pretending.”
Eli tries to step in, hand firm on Cash’s shoulder. “Boys, sit down. This isn’t worth it, Cash.”
But Cash shrugs him off hard. “I’m going to go take a fucking walk.”
Rhett rounds the table, voice rising. “We’re having dinner. Sit the fuck down.”
“What are you going to do? Make me?”
The scuffle erupts fast. Rhett grabs Cash’s shirt, not hard enough to swing, but enough to shake sense into him.
Cash shoves back, their bodies colliding in a tangle of muscle and frustration.
A glass tips over, spilling water across the tablecloth, and Colt jumps up, wedging between them with Dawson’s help.
“Back off!” Colt barks in Rhett’s face, pushing him toward his seat. “Both of you. This isn’t helping anyone.”
I stand too, heart hammering, moving to Tierney’s side as she watches with wide, teary eyes. Her hand finds mine, squeezing tight. “Boys,” she whispers, voice cracking. “Please. Not tonight.”
The struggle lasts only seconds—Dawson, Makai, and Colt strong-arm them apart. Then Cash wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at the floor, and Rhett finally drops back into his seat, rubbing his temples.
Everyone settles uneasily, the roast beef now cold on our plates.
I watch Cash across the table, but he won’t meet my eyes.
I feel the pull anyway.
“You boys are brothers. You will be brothers whether or not your grandfather is here,” Aria snaps at the boys while rubbing Tierney’s back.
“I know it’s hard right now, but don’t tear each other apart any more than you already have.
Grief does things to people that don’t make us proud, but you can’t let it consume you like this. ”
The truth in her words sinks into each of us, and conversation finally restarts in fits.
Eli shares safer stories about fishing trips with Grandpa Ben, and after dinner is done, we migrate to the living room.
The big stone fireplace crackles with a fresh log, casting flickering light on family photos lining the mantel—one of Grandpa Ben front and center.
Colt pulls me aside, near the window, while others settle in.
“Feels weird for this to be my last weekend this summer. Can you keep an eye on this shitshow for me? Rhett’s going through it, and I don’t want him to go back into his box of safety. I love him.”
“I promise,” I say, bumping his shoulder. “But you better come visit more now that your man’s here too—no excuses.”
He grins, the real one this time. “Deal. Have you talked to Cash since he stayed over?”
“No.”
“Are you going to explain to me what’s going on between the two of you?” Colt asks.
I shake my head. “No. Because it’s nothing. We’re just friends.”
He studies me for a second, then asks, “Has he tried to talk to you at all? He needs a friend right now.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m the one who looks lovesick; I’ve been double and triple texting like an idiot.”
Colt snorts. “Lovesick isn’t how I would describe my friendship with someone. I guess that means he’s more of a friend with benefits?”
I elbow him. “Gross. I’m not talking about my sex life with my baby brother.”
“And I’m not trying to hear about my sister fucking someone younger than me,” he shoots back, but there’s no real bite in it.
I shrug, but the words sit heavier than I want them to. “Yeah. He is.”
My gaze drifts to Cash, who’s standing by the fireplace now, staring into the flames.
Aria approaches him quietly, touching his arm.
He softens a touch, letting her pull him into a hug, but the walls stay up.
Everyone’s been ignoring his attitude tonight, giving space that looks more like avoidance.
Rhett’s explosion finally cracked it open, but the scuffle solved nothing.
I wander over to him eventually—drawn, despite myself. “Hey.”
Cash turns, surprise flickering across his face before the scowl returns. “Didn’t think you’d come talk to me after that shitshow.”
“You weren’t exactly charming,” I say dryly, crossing my arms.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “Welcome to Thornwood family dinners. Rhett jumps down my throat and everyone else pretends I’m not here.” His voice drops. “Including you these past couple weeks.”
I flinch. He’s not wrong—I’ve been avoiding him like the plague in person sticking to texts only.
“I’m sorry,” I say, forcing the words out. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with the divorce and getting ready for court. Zach’s been … a lot. It’s not you.”
Cash’s jaw tightens. And for a second, I think he might let it go.
Then, his eyes narrow. “Bullshit.”
I blink. “What?”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head, anger flashing hot across his face. “Don’t use your ex as an excuse when we both know the real reason you’ve been avoiding me. You told me it meant nothing. You told me to leave you alone. Fine. I heard you.”
He turns and starts walking toward the field, shoulders tight.
“Cash, wait—”
He doesn’t stop. “We had a fun time—that’s all it was. Let’s just call it what it is and stop pretending.”
His back is to me as he disappears into the dark, and I stand there, stunned, the doubt creeping in fast and cold.
Maybe he’s right.
We don’t need to be together.