"You made it," she announces, standing to greet me.
I hug my twin, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I told you I'd be here. How's my favorite niece?"
"Uncle Charlie!" Evie scrambles down from her chair and launches herself at my legs before I can take another step. "Momma said you were coming, but it took forever."
I laugh and scoop her up, settling her on my hip despite the peanut butter smeared on her fingers. "Forever, huh? Well, I'm here now, Button."
She pats my cheek with one sticky hand, leaving a trail of crumbs. "Did you bring your horses? Daddy said you have lots and lots."
"I sure do. Maybe I'll take you to see them this week."
Her eyes go wide. "Can I ride one?"
"We'll see what your momma says about that."
Evie twists to look at Rachel, her dark curls bouncing. "Momma, can I ride Uncle Charlie's horses?"
Rachel shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "We'll talk about it later, baby girl. Let Uncle Charlie get settled first."
"But—"
"Later," Rachel repeats, and Evie huffs but accepts the verdict, turning her attention back to me with the rapid subject changes only a three-year-old can manage.
"Grandma Alice made cookies," she informs me, a twinkle of mischief in her solemn dark eyes. "The ones with chocolate."
The back door opens, and Cody Freeman walks in with a feed bucket in one hand and his phone in the other. He's shot up since I last saw him at Christmas, now standing nearly as tall as his father, with the rangy build of a teenager still growing into his frame. His dark hair flops into eyes that brighten the moment he spots me.
"Hey, Uncle Charlie." Cody sets the bucket by the door and crosses the kitchen with the measured stride of a young man who's spent years working a ranch. He extends his hand, and I shake it firmly.
"Cody. You've grown a bit since I saw you last."
"Dad keeps saying I'm going to outgrow him by summer." Cody pulls back with a half-grin. "Did you get the last of the horses settled?"
"I brought the final trailer in yesterday. Colby and his mares are already acting like they own the place."
"That stallion always had an attitude." Cody leans against the counter, arms crossed. "I've been keeping an eye on that two-year-old you sent down last month. The sorrel with the white socks? Dad's been working with her, but she's got a stubborn streak."
"That's the bloodline. Her dam was the same way—stubborn as the day is long, but once she decided to cooperate, she was one of the smartest horses we ever raised." I study my nephew, noting the confidence in his stance, the way he watches the horses with the same attention I've seen in seasoned trainers. "You've been watching her behavior with the herd?"
"Yeah. She's been testing the pecking order, but she's smart about it. Picks her battles." Cody shrugs. "I figured that's a good sign for her temperament long-term."
I nod, impressed. It's exactly the type of observation that matters when evaluating breeding stock. "I could use someone with your eye when I'm assessing new prospects. You interested in putting in some hours at my ranch?"
Cody straightens, and though he tries to play it cool, I can see the eagerness underneath. "Yeah. Just let me know when."
"We'll work out a schedule. I want your read on some yearlings. We need to determine which ones have the temperament for competition."
Mason appears in the doorway, his large frame filling the space, and grins at the sight of me with his son. "I see Cody already tracked you down. He's been checking the driveway every ten minutes."
"I have not," Cody mutters, but his ears go red.
I shake Mason's hand, the grip firm as always. "Good to see you, man."
"Likewise. Come on, I want to show you the new setup we've got in the south barn. I've got those four mares ready for breeding season, and I want your opinion on the rotation."
We leave Rachel fussing over Evie and head out through the back, Cody falling into step beside us. The morning sun warms my shoulders as we walk toward the sprawling barn complex, and the scent of horses and hay fills my lungs.
"So how's it feel to be permanently in Texas?" Mason asks as we walk.
