Page 7 of Marrying the Billboard Cowboy

Gideon responded without shifting his gaze from the screen. “Mom and Dad are out with Cassie and Jason. Just us bachelors tonight. Please say you’ll cook,” he pleaded. “I’m starving and ramen won’t cut it.”

“I’ll cook.” Zeke’s reply was distracted as he made his way to the kitchen, the familiar clink and shuffle of pots and pans a welcome distraction. He reached for ingredients, allowing the rhythm of cooking to ground him.

Gideon finally turned off the television and followed Zeke into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re quieter than usual. Got something on your mind?”

Zeke hesitated, the knife pausing mid-chop over the cutting board. He took a measured breath, then another, before glancing up at his brother. “I’m doing it,” he admitted. “She’ll be here tomorrow, and I... I just don’t know if I’m ready for this—for everything that comes with marrying a woman I’ve never met face-to-face.”

A flash of surprise was all that gave away Gideon’s emotions. “Really? The billboard worked?” Gideon’s face split into a grin.

Zeke rolled his eyes and pointed the knife at his brother. “Don’t get cocky. I’m still mad at you for pulling this stunt.”

Gideon smirked. “You said you needed to get married.”

“I also said I needed help on the western fence line today. But you didn’t exactly jump into action at that statement,” he snarked.

Gideon shrugged, completely unconcerned.

Zeke set down the knife, wiped his hands on a dishtowel, and faced his younger brother squarely. “Call me crazy, but I want to believe this is right, Gid. That she’s the one God means for me. But what if I’m wrong? What if it’s just another mistake waiting to happen?”

Gideon cocked his head slightly, considering. “You’ve always been the deliberate one, Zeke. If you’re feeling this way, there’s gotta be a reason. But remember, we’re not given the whole roadmap—just enough light for the step we’re on.”

Zeke nodded, picking up the knife again. “Suppose you’re right,” he said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just wish I had a bit more light is all.”

The aroma of sizzling onions filled the kitchen as Zeke stirred the contents of the pan. In the simple act of preparing a meal, he found a moment of clarity. Maybe it wasn’t about having all the answers but about trusting in the One who did.

“Tell me you’re not just putting on a brave face,” Gideon said from his perch at the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on Zeke with an earnestness that contrasted sharply with his usual buoyancy. “This whole mail-order bride thing is big, even for you. There is no reason you can’t back out.”

Zeke paused, the wooden spoon hovering over the cast-iron skillet. “I’m trying to be sure it’s bravery and not sheer foolishness,” he admitted, the words tumbling out like worn pebbles.

“Have a little hope, bro.”

Zeke turned back to the stove, letting the rhythm of cooking anchor him. “It’s not hope I’m short on. It’s trust.” The words fell heavy between them, carrying the weight of memories he’d rather leave unturned—memories of a woman who saw him only as a means to an end, who took what she wanted and left scars buried deep.

Gideon’s expression softened. “This girl isn’t like Jenny. Don’t let one bad apple spoil the whole orchard.”

“Easy enough to say,” Zeke murmured, adding a pinch of salt to the onions, watching as they danced and popped.

Trust was a currency he’d spent too freely once. Jenny had never truly seen him, her eyes too focused on being Mrs. Reynolds and all the status that came with it. What if Kaitlyn was the same?

“I’m not brave like you,” he said tightly.

Gideon was fearless. He jumped headfirst into adventure like he needed it to breathe. But Zeke had never done anything without thinking through every possible outcome.

“Hey.” Gideon reached out, placing a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “You’ve got a heart the size of Redemption Ridge itself. It’s okay to guard it, but don’t lock it away. Not everyone’s out to swindle you.”

The gentle pressure of his brother’s grip grounded Zeke, a reminder of the bond they shared, unspoken yet as solid as the beams supporting the ranch house. He let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

What was it that Kaitlyn said? She’d been scraping gum off the tables? He fought a smile, trying to picture Jenny doing that. She’d never worked a day in her life. No, he had to believe Kaitlyn had more substance than that.

The scratch of silverware punctuated the quiet of the Reynolds’ family kitchen as Gideon scraped the last spilled bitesof his fajitas off his plate. Zeke’s gaze lingered on the woven placemat, tracing the intricate patterns with his eyes.

“So, are you going to go through with it?” Gideon asked.

They’d eaten in relative silence as thoughts of the possibilities swirled in Zeke’s mind.

“Can’t let the past have its way with my future, can I?” Zeke finally admitted, his voice a low rumble, more to himself than to his brother. “Not if I’m to walk the path God’s laid out for me.”

“Exactly.” Gideon’s smile reached his eyes, warm and encouraging. “You’ve got more courage than you give yourself credit for, Zeke.”

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