Page 16 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
He surprises me by getting to his feet and holding his arms out. I knew there was more to it! He’s an ambulatory wheelchair user.
I smile as I hug him back. “Same here.”
Jace is the second-born brother after Zane, a widower just like his dad and a single father to Daisy. He was a member of the United States Army Rangers before he was discharged two years ago. Ella wouldn’t give me too many details about his discharge, but I know it was an honorable one.
Just like his big brother, while on his feet he’s well over six feet, built like a lumberjack but still maintains his buzz cut. To me, the Morgan brothers are the same person just in different fonts.
Daisy is still shy and won’t stop hiding, so I turn to her grandfather. Hank Morgan is still the silver-haired fox I remember him to be. As a dad of five and a grandpa, he looks forty and not in his late fifties. Talk about aging like fine wine.
He grins widely and pulls me in for a bear hug. “It’s good to have you home, Ava.”
He smells familiar, with a woodsy outdoor scent—like love, home, and tranquility. From the day Ella brought me home when we were four, he’s always treated me like his own daughter, and as someone who lost their dad at a young age, that was highly appreciated.
“Thanks, Pops. It feels good to be back.”
He’s always been Pops to me because “Daddy,” like Ella calls him, felt too personal and “Mr. Morgan” too formal.
“You’ve gotten thinner, girl!” he comments, cupping my cheeks.
“That’s what I said,” Ella exclaims, earning a stink eye from me.
“We better start fattening you up then,” Hank declares as he pulls a chair for me. “Feel at home.”
“Thank you, Pops.”
Everyone else takes their place, and we settle down to eat. When Ella said she had a feast prepared, she was not joking. There are four kinds of meat, six sides, potatoes cooked four ways, and three kinds of salads. It looks like a party for twenty, not five. It feels a bit overwhelming, but she prepared all this for me, so I roll up my sleeves, intending to do my best.
Daisy leads us in grace, and I finally get to hear her voice. She is so cute.
“Dig in,” Hank invites, passing me a bowl of mashed potatoes.
“Thank you,” I smile gratefully, taking it from him.
I expected the same hostility I got from Zane from them, but they’re the complete opposite, which is nice. I don’t think I’d have been able to survive in a house where everyone hates me.
While in the middle of conversation with Ella about my previous tour, Daisy points her fork at me and says, “You talk funny,” then proceeds to fall into a fit of giggles.
Everyone at the table laughs as well, me included.
I drop my utensils, fold my intertwined fingers under my chin, and while maintaining eye contact with her, I reply, “Does this sound better?” in a Southern accent.
Her eyes widen and her jaw drops in surprise.
“I thought you lost your accent,” Ella gasps.
“I didn’t. I just had to drop it to adapt in LA,” I explain.
Daisy is fascinated by this and makes me switch back and forth between accents, saying different statements. This opens her up, and she’s no longer shy around me.
I end up having an amazing time, and by the time I make it back to my room, my ribs hurt from laughing and I’m so full I can barely breathe. I haven’t had that much to eat in a long time, but the food was good, so it was hard to hold back.
I drop onto my back on the bed and pull my phone from my back pocket to call Lou.
“Finally, I was about to start eating my hair here,” she exclaims as soon as she picks up.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up.”
“It’s okay, I understand. How is it? How’s everything?”
