Julia nods. “Then you all need to be very careful with her.”
“We are,” I promise. “We will be.”
“I believe you,” she says simply.
She gives my hand one last squeeze and lets go.
“Go unpack when you’re ready,” she adds. “I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She smiles. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Delaney
A few days later,Coyote Glen feels… quieter.
Not actually quieter. This town does not understand the concept of quiet. But quieter around me. Like people have collectively decided I’m either old news or too much effort to speculate about before noon.
I’ll take it.
I escape the ranch under the pretense of needing coffee, which is not a lie so much as a survival requirement. Boone barely looks up from his phone when I grab my jacket, Caleb mutters something about having fun, and Silas flashes me a grin that suggests he knows exactly what kind of day I’m going to have.
Rude.
Downtown Coyote Glen looks as it always does. Charming in a way that feels intentional. Painted storefronts. Hanging flower baskets. A chalkboard sign advertisingSoup of the Day,because soup is a lifestyle choice here.
I breathe in the pine-heavy air and head straight for Coyote Cup.
If I don’t get caffeine soon, I will absolutely start making poor decisions. Possibly involving baked goods.
The bell over the door jingles as I walk in, and the familiar smell of espresso and cinnamon wraps around me as a hug that doesn’t ask questions. The place is busy but relaxed. Locals lingering, mugs refilled without judgment, conversations overlapping in a way that feels communal.
I spot them immediately.
Ivy’s commandeered a corner table, one leg tucked under her, posture relaxed in a way only someone who’s survived all those children can manage. Olivia’s across from her with Jacob’s stroller parked beside the table, an extension of her body. And Sloane is perched halfway sideways in a chair, sunglasses still on, hair twisted into a messy knot that somehow looks deliberate.
My chest loosens.
This still feels new. Being able to walk up to a table and just… join in. No catching up. No explanations required. Just slipping into the middle of someone else’s life like it’s allowed.
“…and then my ankles just gave up,” Ivy is saying as I approach.
Olivia snorts. “That’s pregnancy for you. Your body decides it’s done taking suggestions.”
Sloane lifts her coffee. “I maintain that pregnancy is the ultimate hostile takeover. That’s why it isn’t me…”
I slide into the empty chair while they’re laughing, setting my bag at my feet.
“There she is,” Ivy says, pointing at me with her muffin. “The ranch miracle.”
I blink. “I came in halfway through a medical horror story, and that’s my introduction?”
“You should hear the part about the heartburn,” Olivia says sweetly. “We’re sparing you.”
“Thank you,” I reply sincerely. “I’m fragile.”
