Page 34 of Riding the Storm
“Bryce, come on in,” Evelyn calls, waving me toward an open chair.
“I think you made enough food to feed the whole damn county,” Earl says as he takes his own seat next to Albert.
“That’s because Cabe eats enough for four grown men,” Charli mutters, sliding past me with a teasing grin.
Evelyn chuckles, her silver hair twisted up in a bun. “That’s ’cause he works hard. Hard work builds up an appetite,” she says, pinching Cabe’s cheek affectionately before taking her own seat.
I can’t help but smile. There’s something about her—soft eyes, sharp tongue—that makes me feel like I’ve known her all my life.
Albert sits at the head of the table beside Earl, who already has his elbows propped up and is sneaking bites of his biscuit before everyone’s been seated. Shelby gives him a playful smack on the arm, but he just grins at her.
My eyes fall to the girl seated to the left of Charli. Golden-streaked brown hair and the same bright blue eyes as the other Storm girls.
“Hi, you must be Harleigh,” I say.
She smiles, genuine and warm. “And you must be Bryce. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says, “but nobody told me how attractive you were.” She elbows Charli in the side.
“Owww,” Charli mutters. “Don’t worry; it’ll fade after a while.”
That makes me smile.
Cabe introduces me to the older couple seated next to him. His father, Boone Trust, and mother, Irene. I’ve seen them around this week, but wasn’t introduced. They work at the ranch as well but live about three miles away.
The front door opening draws everyone’s attention, and Matty appears. She smiles widely when she sees the table and everyone seated.
She steps inside, Caison following, but freezes mid-step, shock flashing across her face. “Harleigh? What the—what are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come home till next week.”
Harleigh stands and crosses the room in three strides, wrapping Matty in a tight hug. “Surprise! Happy birthday, sissy.”
“You brat. You didn’t skip any exams, did you?” Matty’s voice catches, half laugh, half disbelief.
“Of course not. I took my last one yesterday afternoon and flew in this afternoon.”
“So, you’re home for the summer?” Matty asks.
“For two weeks. I got a summer job at a ranch in Saratoga,” she says, her voice giddy.
Matty frowns. “You got a summer job at a ranch? You could have worked here.”
Harleigh ignores her frown and shrugs. “I know, but this isn’t an all-inclusive luxury ranch resort that offers intern credits,” she says. Then adds, “Yet.”
Everyone laughs as Matty swats at her, but the tears gathering in her eyes give her away. She’s happy to see her baby sister for however long she’s home.
Caison walks her the rest of the way in and pulls her chair out for her.
When she sits down, she looks up at him with that look—the one that says everything without words.
I’ve seen that look between other people, like my parents, but never directed at me.
Dinner begins like a thunderclap of chatter and laughter. Earl leads grace, and then it’s a blur of dishes passed back and forth, butter melting into biscuits, glasses clinking, the kind of cheerful noise that wraps around you like the heat of a summer day.
Across the table, Harleigh’s telling a story about a blind date that her roommate set her up on that went terribly wrong, and Shelby’s making jokes about “the poor thing, inheriting her bad luck with men.” Albert pays attention but offers no comments or advice.
I mostly just listen.
The rhythm of them—the teasing, the interrupting, the laughter—it’s something I don’t think I’ve had since I was a kid.
Life on the rodeo circuit doesn’t make room for this kind of thing. My family’s back in Tulsa, and I barely make it home once, maybe twice a year. Quick drive-bys to check in on Mom and Dad. Then it’s all airports, arenas, motel rooms, repeat.
