Page 74 of Wrangled Love

I get Caleb out of the vehicle, and together we lay out the spread in the back of the Jeep so the guys can easily grab a drink and a sandwich when they’re ready.

Walker and Jensen are the first to head over. Caleb runs straight into Jensen’s arms, giggling as he lifts him and spins him in a circle.

“Appreciate you stopping by, sis,” Walker says, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler and drinking it down in seconds.

“Figured you could use backup in this heat.”

“It’s a scorcher today, that’s for damn sure.”

“Y’all making good progress?” I ask.

“We always do with Heath in charge. He’s a tough taskmaster.” Walker tosses his empty bottle in the garbage bag I brought and picks three apples from the basket. “Your pretty boy kept up, surprisingly, even though his gloves were more for gardening than hauling hay. Good thing we had extras or his hands would be toast.” One by one, he sends the apples into the air, keeping them moving in a continuous arc as his fingers catch and release them with ease.

“Hey, you’re just jealous that after all these years away, I still got it,” Jensen quips, joining us at the back of the Jeep.

He moves next to me, his eyes dropping to my mouth as his fingers graze my hip. We both stiffen when he realizes his mistake, and he’s quick to pull back. We glance at Caleb, who’s too focused on Walker and his juggling act to notice.

“We’ll see how cocky you are after a few more Saturdays in the fields.” Walker smirks, looking between Jensen and me.

After a few more rounds, he catches all three apples, sets two in the basket, and sinks his teeth into the third.

“What have you two been up to?” Jensen asks as he gets a sandwich. “Anything fun?”

“We stopped by the stables and visited Magnolia, one of the mares. Caleb even got to feed her,” I say.

He lets out a low whistle. “You did?”

Caleb nods enthusiastically, stretching out his hands to show how big Magnolia was compared to him.

“That’s awesome. Can’t wait to hear more about it later,” Jensen says, ruffling his hair.

Caleb’s therapist recommended we ask open-ended questions that encourage him to talk about his day. Just small openings so he knows we’re here when he’s ready to share. Jensen’s taken every suggestion seriously, and has even started asking her for parenting books and podcast recommendations, now that he’s gone through his pile at home.

When the ranch hands and Heath join us at the Jeep, I step back so they can grab their lunch. I’ve brought food out to my brothers more times than I can count, but with Jensen and Caleb here, it feels different. They’re slowly weaving themselves into my heart, turning even the simplest tasks and routines into things I look forward to because they’re around.

On the way back from the fields, Caleb and I swing by the ranch house to check on the rest of the newly hatched chicks. Mama Julie and Pops got back from town while we were out, and Caleb was more than eager to stay with them for a few hours while I went back to patch up a section of the corral that I noticed was damaged earlier.

As I mend the fence, I’m reminded that not long ago, my days were spent maintaining the cabins and working around the ranch. I mostly kept to myself aside from weekly dinners with Mama Julie and Pops, and the occasional rescue mission or girls’ night with my friends. My focus had been set on saving for mychildren’s sanctuary and renovating the cottage. For the most part, I was content, but restlessness had started to creep in, and I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Then Jensen came to Bluebell and asked me to be Caleb’s nanny. It brought a sense of purpose I didn’t realize I was missing. I’ve volunteered with a local nonprofit that helps young children through hard times and hosted several camps for kids with trauma here at the ranch, but nothing has been as fulfilling as my afternoons spent with Caleb.

The crunch of gravel under tires pulls me from my thoughts. Heath’s blue pickup rolls up with Jensen and my brothers inside.

“Finished for the day?” I ask as they climb out.

“Yeah. Just have to put away some of the equipment before we meet the ranch hands at the house for dinner,” Heath mumbles.

He’s always extra grumpy after a long day in the fields.

Jensen climbs out of the back seat, pulls off his hat, and wipes the sweat from his forehead.

“I just found out pretty boy here borrowed one of Heath’s hats. It’s like he doesn’t know us,” Walker adds with a mocking laugh.

“Excuse me,” Jensen replies dryly. “I wasn’t aware that not all cowboy hats are created equal.”

“This is why you never should’ve left Bluebell. Living in the city for so long made you think any old hat would do. It’s about finding one that fitsyou. Not swiping one of Heath’s.”

“Are you forgetting you let me borrow yours last month?”

---