In terms of the food Beck brought over, we’re talking a whole tray of butternut squash lasagna, two roasted chickens with the most delicious jus ever, and quarts of autumn kale salad dotted with goat cheese and the gala apples a local farmer grows in her orchard.
Truth be told, the Homestead Hen is Hartsville’sonlyrestaurant. When a fancy chef from Austin decided to relocate to the country and open her dream restaurant that served up American classics with a casual, elegant twist, Beck jumped at the chance to be involved.
Now he’s a ranch hand by day, restaurateur by night. Since we eat supper so early here on the ranch—we’re usually at the table by five—he’s able to head to the restaurant afterward. Ihave no idea where he gets the energy, but my older brother loves his new gig.
“I am mighty proud ofyou.” He turns back to the stove, where he gives a cast iron skillet a quick shake. “Haven’t told you in person how great you looked out there in the arena.”
“You were ridingso fast, Auntie Billie.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I smile when I see Dean and Colt enter the kitchen from the side door.
“Faster even than your dad?” I lean down to give my nephew a hug, planting a kiss on his mop of dirty blond hair.
Dean grins up at Colt. “I think so. Bet I could ride that fast.”
“We gotta get Miss Ava to teach you how to stay sat in the saddle first.” Colt leans in to kiss my cheek. “How ya feeling, Billie? First day back go okay?”
My heart squeezes.Thisis why I’ve stayed in a job I hate for so long.
It’s because my family is great.
Really, really great. And sometimes I think that I just need to suck it up and do what’s best forusinstead of what’s best forme.
There’s six of us Wallace kids. Beck is the second oldest, after Colt. I’m number three in the birth order, and after me there’s Nash, Mack, and Tate.
Mom only had one sibling, my Aunt Lee, and Dad had none. They both wanted a big family of their own—I think they were both lonely growing up—and only after six babies did they give up on tying to have another girl. Because girls are the best (obviously), and Mom also loves having a sister, so she always wanted one for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved growing up with my brothers. But I really do wish I had more girlfriends. Especially now that I’m getting older and everyone is starting to pair off.
I wasn’t especially close with Colt’s wife, Abby. I was only sixteen when they got married, and then there was all the shitthat went down before she got sick. I had a hard time liking her after she did my brother dirty like that.
“I feel better. A little sore. Pretty tired. But otherwise, I’m all right.” I give Dean one last squeeze. “I appreciate y’all coming to visit me so much. Believe it or not, Dean, the flowers you picked for me are still alive. I love them.”
“Dad says girls love flowers.”
“Everyone loves flowers. They smell good.”
Dean wrinkles his nose. “Sometimes I don’t smell very good.”
“Stinky feet?”
“And armpits.” Colt wags his eyebrows.
Dean laughs. “And butt cheeks!”
Colt rolls his eyes as he saunters in and hangs his Stetson on the rack beside the pantry. “Why doeseverythinghave to be about butts?”
“Hey.” Tate is hot on Colt’s heels. “What’s wrong with butts? They’re awesome.”
Dean high-fives him. “They smell bad, though.”
“Not if you keep your cheeks clean. Hey, Billie.” Tate loops an arm around my neck and gives me a hug. “Happy you’re back.”
“Areyourcheeks clean?” I ask.
Tate grins. “Always. Mind’s not, though.”
Mack slaps him on the back as he moves past us. “Filthiest out of us all for sure. Hey, Billie. You recovered yet?”
