Poppy
Pieces by Muscadine Bloodline, Lainey Wilson
Wilder Ranch glows in the late afternoon light. It’s bitterly cold outside, the kind that bites straight through your jeans, but the lodge feels warm and welcoming. The fireplace roars, and the whole place hums with that quiet, rare magic that exists here in Bridger Falls.Cami hosts book club the same way she hosts literally everything else. Big. Cozy. Slightly unhinged in the best possible way.
Cami’s outdone herself, which surprises absolutely no one. She’s turned Wilder Lodge, the former Jessop Lodge, into a welcoming space, and it’s the perfect spot for a book club.
There’s a long table set up in the lodge that looks like it belongs on a baking show finale. Cookies, bars, and homemade breads, and something dusted in powdered sugar that I don’t recognize but immediately want to eat. And of course, the coffee station. Not just coffee. Fancy coffee withsyrups and frothy things. Labels written in Cami’s neat handwriting, like this, are a pop-up cafe and not the family’s lodge. She and Jack built a home not far from here, between the old Wilder land and the Jessop Lodge. But Weston stays here when he comes, and Tucker still lives here and works the ranch. It’s essentially the family meeting place.
Maggie’s planted herself near the couch with a basket full of paperbacks, calling it her mobile free library like she’s running some underground romance ring. She’s got everything in there. Old school bodice rippers with scandalous covers. Cute illustrated romcoms. A couple thrillers she swears count as book club material because they involve relationshipsandmurder.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had the luxury of reading just for fun. It’s been a while since I could focus without working sixteen hours a day, or a stack of bills sitting on the counter that I have to read instead of a book for fun. But lately, the teachers at the high school have been passing around books and talking about them in the lounge, laughing and debating endings like it’s normal to enjoy something again. And I decided Iwant that.
I wrap my hands around a warm mug and smile to myself, realizing I’m actually excited. Not just to be here, but to read. To sit on a couch with friends and talk about fictional people making bad choices while everything else in my life gets to be quiet for a little while.
That feels like magic, too. I’m leaning into the peaceful quiet these days. I’m living out my own fictional romance fairy tale with Ollie, and it’s pretty great.
Violet’s balancing a drink and a book in her hand. Mack’s stretched out on her stomach on the plush rug, flipping pages and pretending she’s not listening to everyone else as she reads one of the thrillers. I love that everyone is welcome at book club, from Maggie, who is seventy, to Mack, who is seventeen, and a baby. Cami’s whipping up coffees foreveryone.
There’s a new face today.
Sutton sits cross legged beside Maggie, her little boy, Crew, balanced easily on her lap. She looks late twenties, maybe early thirties, young but a little worn in the way motherhood does that to you with a baby that keeps you busy. Petite, but not fragile. Sturdy and strong.
Her hair is blonde, pale and soft, pulled into a loose braid that slips over one shoulder, wisps escaping around her face no matter how many times she tucks them back. Her eyes are a clear blue, bright and observant, the kind that miss nothing even when she’s smiling. There’s a faint dimple in her cheek when she laughs at something Maggie says, and a tiny scar near her eyebrow that gives her face character instead of perfection.
She wears leggings and an oversized sweater, one sleeve pushed up so Crew can gnaw happily on her wrist. She doesn’t even flinch. Just steadies him with one arm and keeps listening, fully present, like this room and these people already matter to her.
Something about her feels gentle but grounded. Like she’s been through things and came out softer instead of harder.
I clock all of it in a second and understand why Maggie has already claimed her.
Her baby’s about nine months old, chubby and curious, drool shining on his chin. Maggie has already fully adopted both of them into the book club circle.
“This is Sutton,” Maggie announces proudly. “She loves books, and she’s brave enough to show up to book club with this wild group.”
Sutton laughs. “I needed adult conversation, or I was going to go stir crazy cooped up in the house. This winter has been brutal.”
We all nod. We get it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sutton. Crew is adorable,” I say as I sit next to her.
“Thanks,” she says shyly. “How old are your kids?”
I smile proudly when they’re called my kids. "Owen is eleven, and Ellie is almost six weeks old.”
“Wow, you look so young,” she says, surprised.
“Owen’s actually my little brother, but my husband and I are adopting him,” I say before I realize I haven’t told them all that, yet.
Cami gasps, and the room goes quiet.
Maggie says softly, “Really? Oh, sugar...”
I nod, excited. “Weston’s helping us make it official. We’re all changing our last name, too.”
Cami softens and says, “You’re all going to be Kendricks.”
“Nope,” I say, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. “We’re going to be Wilders.”
