“Yes.” Lucia reached across and covered my hand with hers. “He is. More than any of my other children, Kick has his father’s heart.”
My throat constricted at the simple touch, at the warmth flowing from her palm into mine.
Lunch stretched on.
The conversation flowed around me like water, and I let myself be carried by it. The women talked about their children, their work, and their husbands. They shared stories about Kick as a child—how he’d followed Snapper everywhere, copying his older brother’s walk and way of talking until they were nearly indistinguishable. How his first “official” rodeo event was mutton busting, and how he’d ended up face-first in the mud. How he’d cried for a week when his first dog died, sleeping in the barn with the other animals because he didn’t want them to feel lonely.
They included me without making a production of it. Someone would mention a family tradition, and Alex would pause to explain it for my benefit. Lucia would reference an inside joke, then backtrack to give me context. Every time I felt lost in the current of their shared history, someone threw me a lifeline.
It was kind. Thoughtful. Deliberate.
And I hated how much I didn’t trust it.
“The bachelor auction is coming up in a few months,” Alex said during a lull in conversation. “We’re always looking for volunteers to help with planning.”
I stiffened, waiting for a dig. The reminder of my years of embarrassing behavior.
It didn’t come.
“No pressure,” Alex continued, her tone neutral. “But if you’re interested, we could use someone with marketing experience. Kick mentioned you’re doing incredible work at Whitmore.”
“I—yes. Maybe. I’d like that.”
She smiled, and it seemed genuine. “Great. I’ll send you the details.”
Saffron caught my eye from across the table and gave me an encouraging nod. I tried to return it, but my face felt frozen.
Little Coco wandered over a few minutes later, her dark eyes curious beneath a fringe of bangs that needed trimming. She was seven, I remembered—Alex and Maddox’s daughter. The one Lucia saidreminded her of herself. Precocious and inquisitive, with a gap-toothed smile that made my chest ache.
“Are you Uncle Kick’s girlfriend?” she asked, climbing uninvited into the empty chair on my other side.
“Coco,” Alex warned from down the table. “Don’t bother Isabel.”
“She’s not bothering me.” I turned to face the little girl, grateful for the interruption despite myself. Children were easier than adults. They said what they meant without hidden agendas. “And yes, I am Uncle Kick’s girlfriend.”
“Are you going to marry him?”
“Coco!” Alex stood, but I waved her off.
“It’s okay.” I managed a smile that felt almost natural. “We haven’t talked about that yet.”
“But you’re having a baby.” The little girl’s brow furrowed with the serious logic of childhood. “Mommy and Daddy got married before they had me. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”
“Sometimes things happen in a different order,” I said. “That doesn’t mean they’re wrong. Just different.”
“My teacher says different is good. It makes the world interesting.”
“Your teacher sounds smart.”
Coco beamed at the compliment. Then her expression turned thoughtful, and she crept closer as if sharing a secret.
“Do you love Uncle Kick?”
The question was so simple. So direct. No adult would have asked it—not this early, not with everyone listening.
“Yes,” I heard myself say. “I love him very much.”
Coco’s whole face lit up. “Then, you’ll definitely get married. And you’ll live here forever, and your baby will be my cousin, and she’ll play with me, and we’ll all be one big family. That’s what Grandma says. Family is forever.”
