Page 9 of Georgia-Blue & Hudson

I can’t help but smirk to myself. Dad loves to be the perfect host, even at my place, and looks after whoever comes knocking on our door. Admittedly, there haven't been many people over lately, as Dad pointed out.

Dad lives in the back cottage that he and Mom rebuilt a few years back. I have the smaller original workers’ cottage at the front. My mom died almost two years ago from an aggressive form of cancer. It shook the entire family and everyone in Stoney Creek. She was loved by everyone and a true mother hen. Dad and I have grown closer over the last few years more than ever.I moved back here after my bull riding career took a sudden turn when I was injured.

It’s a tough sport and it took me a lot of places. I missed it a lot in the beginning. I think the hardest part is having to bow out when you’re at the peak in your chosen career. It wasn’t by choice, and that’s what tore me up the most. But it is what it is, and with a few years under my belt back home on my parents’ farm, I’ve learned to deal with it.

I keep a cabin up in Slate Mountain, a few hours east of here, where I spent the first six months after I left Nashville and broke up with my girlfriend. I needed a break from the world and most of the people in it. I love it out there. It’s peaceful, with nothing but scenery for miles.

I was always going to come home to Stoney Creek someday to take over the farm; it just happened quicker than I thought. Not that my parents ever pushed it on me, but I’ve grown up in and around the cotton fields, and other than the rodeo, it’s all I really know.

It’s also what I’m insanely good at. I love being outdoors and in nature, so it’s never felt like a chore, even if it is hard work and long days. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else now, but it’s been a long road for me to see things a different way and that everything happens for a reason. If I hadn’t been forced to quit the rodeo, I wouldn’t have been home as often as I was leading up to my mom getting really sick. So for that, I’m grateful.

It has made me appreciate the simple things in life a whole lot more. When I get up each morning to face the fields before me, the clear blue sky, and the air as fresh as the day is long, I get that sense of peace that I never had living my rodeo life.

Most people don’t know it about me, but I truly appreciate all the seasons Tennessee has to offer and I try to notice all the little things around me as those seasons change.

“A coffee would be great,” Georgia says, breaking my reverie. “If Huds is making, extra foam would be fantastic.”

I give her a look. “Don’t count on it, sweetheart.”

“I’d love a coffee too,” Autumn pipes up. “Normal foam is fine for me.”

Dad chuckles away, shaking his head.

“I see you didn’t get your extra hit of espresso this morning,” Georgia says, as she finally stands from stroking my cat and walks with me into my small kitchen. While it has been freshly renovated by yours truly, the original structure is over a hundred years old and has been in the family for generations. I love the high ceiling beams the most, and the original hardwood floors that me and my dad sanded back by hand and varnished twice over. We bonded over it after my mom’s illness, giving us an escape when it all got too much. We were at a crossroads for a very long time. I’m glad we put our differences aside to care for Mom, and Dad has mellowed ten-fold over the years.

The freshly painted walls give it that new house smell, with the earthy and nutty scents of the linseed oil permeating in the air.

“I had my hit of espresso just fine,” I tell her.

“Geez, you smell good,” she murmurs, wiggling her nose at me.

I bristle a little at her words because they come out of nowhere.Okay. Not what I was expecting.“Don’t I usually?” I cock a brow.

Her eyes narrow just a fraction. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I’d kinda forgotten.”

I palm the back of my head. “It’s been a busy summer.” I know she understands that feeling. Gray keeps me up to date on the family fun going on around their place.

I help out a lot over at the distillery when they need me to, moreover when we’re not harvesting. I gave Callan a hand in getting their huge old barn ready for their first wedding season since GB and her mom, Gayle, had the idea to restore it to its former glory. They now rent the place out for functions and events. They’ve had wedding after wedding this spring and summer. From what I’ve heard, it’s spilling into autumn as well, before things slow down for the winter time and everyone will have a well earned break.

“Tell me about it,” she says. “I’m taking a vacation soon, anyway.”

I make my way over to the coffee machine as Dad tells the girls to get acquainted at the island bench which overlooks my small, but neat, white kitchen. It’s modest with shaker cabinets and the same wood floors that run through the whole house. “Where to?” I ask.

Georgia never really goes anywhere — maybe Nashville with her mom and best friend, Celeste, and cousin, Trudy — but vacation? Unheard of.

Autumn places her camera bag down on the bench but Georgia doesn’t answer. She’s staring at something on the fridge.

“Earth to Precious Princess,” I holler through cupped hands.

Dad is setting up the cups as I walk back over to see what’s captivated Georgia’s attention.

She’s staring up at the wedding invite I got months back for a friend of mine, James Harding. He was a Stoney Creek native years back, but lives in Florida now with the girl he met here, Elizabeth Hewitt. And they’re getting married in exactly four weeks.

She grabs the invitation right from under the fridge magnet and waves it in my face.

“You got one of these, too?”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean,too?”

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