Page 53 of Undone

Colt let out a low laugh. “She’s got you there.”

She handed over two brown paper bags filled to the brim with food. “Tell your dad I said hello, and if you ever need help with that little girl of yours, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, Mary,” I said as Sawyer accepted the bags.

We headed to the truck, and I slid into the passenger seat.

“Let’s get home before Gracie convinces Dad to have ice cream for dinner.”

Colt started the engine, and we headed back toward the ranch. The lights from The Lodge faded into the distance as we drove along the winding country road.

Stepping into the ranch house always hits me in the gut. Some of my fondest memories lived in every corner of this place. Sleepovers in the living room with Trent and Dotty, the three of us fighting over couch space, whispering and laughing until we finally passed out. Nights spent with my brothers, glued to video games until our eyes burned, laughing so hard our stomachs hurt.

And my mom—her voice echoing from the kitchen as she made pancakes every Sunday, Dad’s old records spinning in the background.

It was all still here, lingering in the walls, reminding me of the life we once had. A life that changed overnight when she passed. Yet somehow this house managed to mold itself into something new over the years.

The ranch house would always embody her—more than anyone of us could. Even though I’d spent more time in it without her than with her, she was still woven into every piece of it. The ranch was a reflection of her love.

But there were other memories here too—faint, fleeting ones of Hallie.

She’d been part of this space, but not quite like my mom had. I was in my early twenties when Gracie came along, and it all happened so fast—Hallie’s high-risk pregnancy, the whirlwind of trying to figure out how to be a dad while still feeling like a kid myself, then losing Hallie so quickly during Gracie’s birth.

She gave me Gracie, and for that, I’d be forever grateful. But if I was being honest, I was never in love with Hallie the way people might expect. We weren’t destined to be soulmates, bound together by some grand love story. She was sweet, kind, and would have been a great mother, but what we had was more… circumstance than fate.

Losing Hallie stung, but my world didn’t shatter. It shifted. It reorganized itself around Gracie.

Initially, I didn’t know how to feel, but I knew I had to care for my daughter.

There was a part of me that once imagined a life with a wife, our kids growing up together, telling stories about how disgustingly in love their parents were.

But Gracie was the one thing I never knew I needed. I was handed this fragile, perfect little girl, and in that moment, she filled every gap.

Now, I didn’t want more than my quiet life with her. I didn’t get attached in relationships because I didn’t need to. I didn’t want to.

At least, until recently.

But the hardest part wasn’t the grief. It was knowing that my daughter would grow up without a mother, just like I did.

Hallie’s loss was part of our story, and I always made sure Gracie knew about her mom. We’d talk about how much Hallie loved her, though the meaning of those words only really started to click for her recently.

When she started school, she noticed other kids had moms and dads, while she only had me. But we’ve made it work. Gracie has her village, a small army of people in her corner, even if she doesn’t have a mom.

The ranch house wasn’t filled with memories of Hallie the way it was with my mother, but sometimes, I could still hear her in Gracie’s laughter echoing down the halls. Or catch a glimpse of her in Gracie’s bright, expressive eyes—so much like Hallie’s—as she climbed onto a step stool to carefully place the star on top of the Christmas tree.

I let out a slow breath, pushing those thoughts aside. Because no matter how much changed over the years, this place, and the people in it, were still my home.

Dad was setting out all the takeout food like it was any other dinner, but the house felt fuller tonight—maybe because Sawyer was home for the week or because Noah was here.

Sawyer was already at the head of the table, his arm loosely draped around Gracie, who was practically climbing into his lap.

The girl loved her uncles.

Colt sat to the right of him, leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too smug as he watched Sawyer try to wrangle her. I stood and watched the whole scene unfold, taking in how many people loved my daughter.

“Dang, he comes back, and you forget all about me, huh, G?” I said, crossing my arms.

Sawyer grinned like the cocky jerk he was. “She’s more interested in my stories than your dad jokes. Right, Gracie?”

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