Page 23 of The Promises We Broke
Looking down at Barrett's sleeping face, I made a promise. Not to be perfect, not to deserve forgiveness I hadn't earned, but to show up. To be present. To prove through actions what I couldn't yet believe in words.
The laptop back at Booker's house still had those job sites bookmarked. Montana still needed bridge supervisors. The Gulf still had offshore rigs looking for experienced workers willing to take risks.
But for the first time in eleven years, running felt like it would be the biggest mistake of my life.
Maybe staying and fighting was finally an option worth considering.
Maybe it was time to learn what it meant to build something instead of constantly tearing myself down.
Chapter 7
Gage
Three days had passed since Barrett's dramatic entrance into the world, and I still couldn't quite believe it had happened. That I'd been the one to catch him, to help bring him safely into his family's arms. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel the weight of him in my hands, warm and perfect and completely trusting.
The memory had shifted something fundamental inside me. Not the guilt, that was still there, and probably always would be. But underneath it, something else was growing. The crazy possibility that maybe I could be useful here. Perhaps I could contribute something to this family instead of just taking from it.
I sat at Booker's kitchen table, my casted leg stretched out to the side, staring at a legal pad covered with my attempts to make sense of my options. Stay in Willowbrook, and do what exactly? I had construction skills, but the town was too small for major projects. I had money saved, but no idea what I'd spend it on ifI wasn't constantly moving. I had eleven years of independence, and no clue how to be part of someone else's daily life again.
"You're making lists again," Reece observed, settling into the chair across from me with her coffee.
"Trying to figure out what staying would actually look like," I said, tapping the pen against the paper. "I want to stay. I think. Barrett's birth... it changed something for me. But wanting something and having a plan for it are two different things."
Reece leaned forward, studying my scratched-out notes and question marks. "What's the real issue?"
"I don't know how to do this," I admitted. "I don't know how to be someone's uncle, someone's brother, how to be part of a community when I've been completely self-sufficient for over a decade. I don't even know what I'd do for work here."
The practical concerns felt safer than the emotional ones, but they were equally real. Willowbrook wasn't exactly a hub for construction jobs. The ranch work was all Booker's domain. I had skills, but no local connections, no reputation to build on.
"And if you can't figure it out?" she asked.
"Then maybe staying isn't actually an option, no matter how much I want it to be."
Before I could answer, the sound of car doors slamming in the driveway interrupted us. Multiple vehicles, which meant the whole family was coming. My stomach immediately knotted with anxiety.
"Deep breath," Reece said gently. "They love you. They want you here. Try to remember that."
The front door opened, and suddenly the house was full of voices and laughter and the chaos of family life. Trace and Delaney, with Barrett sleeping peacefully in a carrier. Blake carrying what looked like enough food to feed an army, and Xander with a sleeping child drooling on his shoulder. Andthen, trailing behind everyone else with the cautious curiosity of childhood, a boy who could only be Cade.
My nephew. The child I'd helped steal a father from. The ten-year-old who should have been surrounded by family memories and traditions, who instead was meeting his uncle for the first time when he should have known him his whole life.
He was beautiful. Dark hair like Trace's, but Delaney's warm brown eyes, and the kind of confident posture that spoke of a child who was secure in his family's love. He looked nothing like the damaged kid I'd been, nothing like the broken teenager who'd made such terrible choices.
He looked happy. Whole. Loved.
"Cade," Trace said gently, "this is your Uncle Gage."
The boy stepped forward without hesitation, no fear or resentment in his expression. Just curiosity and the openness that belonged to children who'd never learned to be afraid of love.
"You're the one who delivered Barrett," he said, his voice carrying the mixture of awe and mischief that seemed to define him.
"I... yeah," I managed, my voice rough. "Your mom did all the hard work. I just... caught him."
"That's so cool!" Cade's face lit up with genuine excitement. "Mom said you were really brave. Were you scared?"
"Terrified," I admitted, and Cade's grin widened.
"But you did it anyway. That's what brave means, right? Being scared but doing the right thing anyway?"
