Page 117 of Love Wells Kept

Once Beryl’s filled two bowls with steaming chili for us, and I’ve stuffed my pockets with Kate’s cheesy buns, I follow my wife to a pair of camping chairs with a perfect view of the crackling embers and my family gathered all around.

Directly across from me, Denny huffs through a too-hot bite while simultaneously loading a spoon to shovel more into his mouth. Behind him, Blair’s walking in slow circles, bouncing the fussy baby to get her to fall asleep.

“You good, bud?” Colt slaps Denny on the back mid–coughing fit.

Once he gets the molten-lava bite down, Denny blinks over at Colt with glassy eyes. He tries to talk without the use of his tongue, before giving up and gesturing something at Blair.

She laughs softly. “He’s trying to eat fast so he can rock Avery while I eat…but given how hot the chili seems to be, I think I’m okay with waiting awhile.”

“Yeah, that.” Denny sucks air through his teeth. “Damn, Beryl. You set this on fire right before handing it to me?”

She laughs, scooping a ladle of chili into a bowl for my dad. He walks around the outer edge of the circle, stopping behind me to lay his broad hand over my shoulder. He left a few weeks after Cecily had the baby, but since then he’s made a conscious effort to spend more time at the ranch. He might not be living here full time, but he’s so attached to his grandkids he can’t seem to stay away for more than a few weeks at a time.

“Wanted to let you know I’m proud of you, kid,” he says quietly. He’s not one for public speeches or having all the attention on him, and neither am I, so I’m glad Kate’s the only other person hearing this. “I didn’t…I didn’t know if you’d be able to turn things around. But you bucked up. And…” He hastily works down a swallow. “And your mom would be incredibly proud of you, too.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I give him a half smile. “I’m doing my best.”

“You’re doing better than that, son.” With a quick pat on the shoulder, he carries on to his seat. Never one for talking, whether in my memories of him or in the time I’ve spent with him post-accident.

I focus back on the banter filling the circle of family and friends with more warmth than the fire. The teasing has shifted to Colt now, instead of Denny. Maybe because Denny’s managed to inhale his extra-hot chili and is standing on the outskirts of the chair circle with his baby girl held tight to his chest.

The only thing that’s been harder for me to accept than my own kids is seeing my brothers as dads. Austin’s a brand-new dad, who’s fumbling as often as I am when it comes to caring for his daughter, but he looks at her with the same soft, protective look he previously only gave to Cecily. And Denny’s carting around his kid like he was born to hold a baby in his arms. Then there’s Red—the unofficial brother who’s in almost as many of my childhood memories as Denver and Austin—who worked half the day today with his toddler sitting in front of him in the saddle.

It’s probably going to take a long time before I fully understand how to be a dad again, but I’ve got some damn good examples around me.

Based on the way he’s fanning his panting tongue with both hands, I’m gathering the chili is either too hot or too spicy for Colt. His face is flushed, so red it borders on purple.

“If Beryl had stuck with macaroni and cheese, like I requested, I wouldn’t be dying right now,” he defends himself, giving Cassidy a thankful smile when she offers him up a sippy cup of milk she brought for Hazel.

“Oh, ignore him,” Red shouts at Beryl over his shoulder. “Colt’s idea of seasoning is touching his food while he has ketchup chip dust on his fingers.”

All Colt can muster up for a defense is, “Hey, man. Ketchup chips are the bomb.”

The queen of being prepared for anything the cowboys could need, Beryl perks up at that. “I have some in one of the tote bins in the back of the truck. Help yourself, honey.”

“Well, hot damn. This dinner is saved after all.” Colt practically leaps out of his seat, giving a kick of each leg to straighten out his jeans. He hands off his bowl of chili to Red, who shrugs and carefully adds it to his own half-eaten bowl.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Everyone’s eating good food, slinging back bottles of cold beer, and relishing the calm after a long, hard day’s work. Kate sets her empty bowl on the ground and leans into me, resting her hand on my thigh.

And after some time, Austin clears his throat loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“So, uh…good work today.” He nudges his Stetson back on his head, glancing over at Cecily, who’s sitting next to him with their baby cradled in her arms. “Wanted to thank Dad, in particular. You’ve been busting your ass around here a lot since Jackson got hurt and…it’s meant a lot.”

Dad winks at him, saying nothing and everything.

Denny holds a hand over his daughter’s exposed ear like a muff before shouting, “Beers on Austin.”

Raucous cheers from all the ranch hands.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Austin holds his hands up to stop them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I have more to say.”

“For the first time in his life, Aus has more to say?” The words slip from my lips before I realize what’s happening. Bizarre younger brother muscle memory, I guess.

Kate snickers, rapping her fingertips against my denim-clad thigh.

“Cute. You’re bickering like when you guys were kids,” Blair muses between bites of cheesy bun.

Everyone—even Austin—laughs at that.