The entire circle erupts with laughter.
“That’s what his ass gets for wearing white to a ranch,” Royce says.
I lean back in my chair and shake my head.
“He’ll learn.”
The flames flicker and pop, sending little spirals of sparks drifting up into the dark Wyoming sky.
I sink deeper into the lawn chair, stretching my boots toward the warmth. After a day like today, my entire body aches.
But in the best possible way.
The ranch is finally quiet for the first time since sunrise.
It’s nice to be here now. It’s just us.
The flames from the firepit dance across familiar faces.
Grandma sits, wrapped in a blanket Grandpa fetched for her, looking perfectly content as she enjoys her family. Grandpa sits beside her with a mug of coffee, occasionally stirring the fire with a long stick.
Daddy scoots his chair closer to Imma Jean.
Axle and Royce sit across from them, arguing, per usual.
“I’m telling you,” Axle insists, pointing a finger, “you definitely cut that turn too tight.”
Royce scoffs. “Only because you were in my damn way. You were supposed to go wide!”
“You were supposed to not suck!”
Everyone laughs.
Beside me, Porter shifts in his chair, his knee brushing mine.
The contact sends a small electric shiver up my spine.
I can’t believe how natural this feels. Like he’s always been sitting beside me. Like he belongs here.
Porter leans toward me slightly. “Think Bryce will let us stay in the instructor’s cabin one last time?” His voice is low enough that only I hear it.
“Sorry. I think they’re all full now.” I nudge his leg with my boot. “Guess we’ll have to sneak you into my room.”
He frowns. “I haven’t snuck into a girl’s bedroom in, like, sixteen years.”
His eyes cut across the fire to where Grandma sits. “Is it weird that I’m more scared of Evelyn catching me than Albert?”
I laugh. “Nope. She’s definitely meaner.”
Waylon drops into a chair with a tired sigh. “Eh, she’s not so bad. I snuck into Shelby’s room once. Evelyn caught me sneaking out the next morning and made me sit and eat breakfast with everyone.”
He glances at Porter. “Of course, she already loved me by then. You might be in trouble. Caison’s old cabin is empty. You can stay there if you’re scared.”
“Y’all are ’bout as quiet as a stampede,” Grandpa says.
“Porter, what do you prefer? Pancakes or French toast?”
I cut my eyes to Grandma, and she winks.
