Page 90 of Wrangled Love

It’s difficult to admit that Mama Julie is right. As much as I’d rather keep avoiding this particular conversation with Jensen, I’m going to have to talk to him about it and soon. Regardless of what he decides, I won’t know until I ask. The hardest part will be facing the fallout if Jensen and Caleb do move back to New York. The truth is they’ve become my everything. And while I’ll support what’s best for Caleb, that doesn’t mean it won’t shatter me to let them go.

“How can I help with dinner? I’m sure those boys are about to eat us out of house and home,” I say, wanting a lighthearted distraction.

Mama Julie doesn’t press further. She busies herself with the rolls, piling them into a bowl before handing them to me. “Can you put these on the table outside? It’s such a nice night. We’re going to eat out on the deck,” she says, handing me the bowl. “I’ll join you once I put the cobbler in the oven.”

“Absolutely.”

I head out back, placing the rolls on the table set with plates and utensils.

“Howdy there, sunshine,” Pops calls from the grill where he’s flipping a rack of his famous huckleberry ribs.

I join him, squeezing his shoulder. “Hey, Pops. Where are the boys?”

He nods out to the yard where they’ve set up a game of cornhole. Jensen’s lining up a toss with Caleb mimicking his stance behind him, while Heath heckles from beside the board, calling out exaggerated scores and grinning when Jensen misses.

“That little buckaroo is lookin’ sharp in that cowboy hat of his,” Pops says with a grin. “You’ve done right by him, stepping up like you did. You’ve got a good heart, and I’m mighty proud of you.” He wraps his arm around me and presses a kiss to my hair.

Samuel Halstead doesn’t show affection much outside of Mama Julie, so when he does, it’s a precious moment that I never take for granted.

“Thanks, Pops,” I say, resting my head against his shoulder. “It’s because of you and Mama Julie that I know what love looks like, and I hope that I can pass that on to Caleb and other kids who might not have that kind of support.”

Not a day goes by that I’m not thankful for the Halsteads and everything they’ve done for me. But it’s taken me a long time to finally see what they’ve known all along—that it was never about blood. I was never a burden. Never a charity case. They’ve always considered me their daughter and loved me as their own. And maybe, for the first time, I’m starting to believe I deserve it. It’s Jensen who finally helped me quiet the doubts and finally see the truth that this is where I belong.

As we gather around the table, the people I care about most beside me with the Montana mountains glimmering beneath the fading sun, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. And it’s almost poetic that it took someone like Jensen, carrying his own parental scars, to help me face mine.

The day after the barbecue at the Halsteads’, I asked Julie to watch Caleb for a few hours. It occurred to me that I hadn’t taken Briar out on a real date yet. Until now, we’ve mostly only had nights together—sneaking in and out of each other’s beds and sharing stolen moments in the dark. She deserves to be spoiled, and I want to show her that she means more to me than convenience and chemistry.

“Jensen, this is silly,” she mumbles, tightening her grip on my shoulders. “I could walk if you’d let me take the blindfold off.”

I adjust her position on my back, legs wrapped around my waist, and give her thighs a gentle squeeze. “Patience, sugar. We’re almost to our first stop.”

“Which is where?” she whispers, giving my earlobe a playful nip. “Let me guess, we’re going to check the irrigation lines?”

I shift my head toward her, pressing a kiss to her nose. “Not quite.”

“Are we going to fix the broken fence post in theeastern pasture?”

I chuckle. “I’d like to think what I have planned is more romantic than that.”

“Well, I hope you know where you’re going, because it feels like we’re going in circles.”

She’s not wrong.

I met her at the ranch house after work so we could drop Caleb off. I told her we had plans but kept the details under wraps. I wanted to keep it a surprise up until the last minute. That’s why I blindfolded her and gave her a piggyback ride around the garden and chicken coop a few times.

The goal was to disorient her before heading over to one of the storage sheds where I had Walker park a four-wheeler. They’re used to check cattle, haul feed, and navigate through areas where the truck can’t go—and it seemed like the perfect way to get us to where we’re going for our date.

He gave me grief for asking for his help and even tried to rope me into another Saturday of free labor. But when I mentioned it was a favor so I could do something special for Briar, he begrudgingly agreed “out of the goodness of his heart.” His words, not mine.

“We’re here,” I say enthusiastically.

I lower myself so Briar can get off, making sure her feet are on the ground before easing my grip on her legs.

She reaches for her blindfold. “Can I take this off now?”

“Not just yet.”

I want her on the four-wheeler first so she doesn’t see the cooler and bag strapped to the back rack and spoil the rest of what I have planned.

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