“No,” Delaney and I speak at the same time.
He puts his hands up, grinning. “Message received. I’ll get out of your hair. Wouldn’t want to get between Caleb and his new favorite person.”
I feel my ears heat. “Silas.”
“What? He had two helpings. That’s basically a declaration of love.” He winks at Delaney. “Welcome to the family, sunshine.”
She goes still for a beat at the nickname, then forces a quick little smile and looks back down at the plates. If she were any farther from him at the table, she’d be in the next room.
He saunters out before I can throw a roll at his head.
That leaves me and Delaney in the kitchen, the sound of running water and the clink of plates filling the quiet.
I gather up dishes and bring them to the sink. She runs hot water, adding soap, the smell of it mixing with garlic and roasted chicken.
“You don’t have to—” she starts again.
“I know,” I note. “Still doing it.”
She huffs out a small breath that might be a laugh. “Stubborn?”
“Something like that.”
We fall into a rhythm. I rinse. She washes. I dry and stack dishes. It’s easy. Companionable. Not as awkward as I’d braced for.
“You’ve worked on ranches before?” she asks after a bit.
“Just this one,” I say. “Been here since I was a teenager.”
“Wow.” She glances at me. “So this is…homehome.”
“Well, it wasn’t supposed to be. Not originally.”
Her brow furrows. “What happened?”
I shrug. “My mom, Maggie, was married to Boone’s dad for a couple of years when we were young teens. She’s… artistic. Sweet. Not super great at settling anywhere for long. The ranch was the most stable place we ever lived.”
Delaney’s hands still in the soapy water. “And when they divorced… you stayed?”
“Yeah.” I huff out a breath, half laugh, half memory. “Mom left to go chase her dream of joining some folk band. Boone’s dad, Walter, asked if I wanted to stay here until I figured things out. He treated me like a stray someone dropped off, but he didn’t turn me away.”
Her eyes soften. “And Boone?”
“He was practically running the ranch even back then.” I dry one of the serving bowls. “Didn’t talk much. Still doesn’t. But he looked out for me. In his way. Let me muck stalls and do grunt work until I earned more responsibility.”
A corner of her mouth lifts. “So you two became brothers.”
My voice comes out quiet. “Not by blood. But that never mattered here.”
She nods as if she understands that better than most.
I rinse another dish. “Silas, who’s actually my cousin, came along later. Well… technically, he was around long before I showed up, just not living here. He and Boone grew up together. Best friends since they were kids. But he moved here after me.”
Delaney tilts her head. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I set a plate on the towel. “His mom and my mom are sisters, but our families were never that close. His dad’s a businessman, big on image, not big on affection. Silas learned early how to charm a room because nobody at home listened long enough to see him.”
Her expression softens. “That explains so much.”
