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I put my arms around her, pulling her in for the kiss I’ve been craving all day. “Gracie, I’ve planned my whole life down to the minute. But you? You’re the one thing I never expected, couldn’t plan for, and never want to live without.”

She kisses me again, so softly I feel it in my toes.

It’s an afternoon of pure joy, a celebration of love and belonging, and as I watch Grace smile and laugh and, later, join in the dancing, I know we’ve given her a birthday she’ll never forget.

She might not be ready to call Cooper Hill Ranch home yet, but we’ve given her a reason to think hard about staying.

And for now, that’ll have to be enough.

37

GRACE

“Again. Again.”

Eli grins up at me, waiting for me to catch my breath.

The evening is glowing with warm light and laughter. String lights sway gently in the breeze overhead, casting soft halos over the blankets, overturned cake plates, and scattered lanterns. The music that hums from Levi’s old speaker is something with a twangy guitar and lyrics about broken hearts and second chances.

I’m barefoot, my feet sunk into soft grass, the hem of my shirt tied across my belly as I spin Eli in wide circles, her high-pitched giggles making my chest ache with something so big and beautiful I don’t have words for it and can barely contain it. My head is light, maybe from the punch, or maybe from the sheer joy flooding through me. The air smells like toasted marshmallows, burning wood, and wildflowers, and for the first time in forever, I feel like the main character in my own story.

Levi’s doing a ridiculous lasso dance for the kids, tripping over his own boots and yodeling until Matty nearlypees himself laughing. Dylan’s slow-dancing with Hannah standing on his boots, her arms stretched around his legs while he shuffles them in a circle, humming along with the music. Jaxon surprises me most. He isn’ttryingto dance. He’s actually good. Graceful in a way that doesn’t fit with his usual quiet intensity. He twirls Junie, lifting her high and steady in the air as she shrieks with delight.

I stop spinning and bend over, breathless, Eli clinging to my waist, giggling so hard she hiccups.

I glance around and take it all in; these unbelievable, complicated, good-hearted men, these sweet kids, and everything they’ve done for me.Is this what family is supposed to feel like?

Conway steps toward me, hand extended. “C’mon, city girl. Let’s see if that punch made you brave.”

I raise an eyebrow and slide my hand into his, laughing as he pulls me into a spin. He moves with surprising smoothness, guiding me across the grass like it’s an elegant ballroom.

“You’re lighter than a sack of feed,” he says with a smirk, “but you got more fire than all of us put together.”

I stumble, catching myself against his chest, dizzy with movement, sugar, and affection. “It’s the punch. Or the cake. Or the love. Maybe all three.”

The words spill from my lips without thought, but rather than looking surprised, he grins and twirls me again. And I let him.

The laughter tapers into soft giggles. The kids collapse in a tangled heap on a blanket, pink-cheeked and breathless with fun. The music shifts to something slower, softer, and I ease away from the circle with my drink cradled in both hands, needing a second to breathe.

The punch is warm in my stomach. The air is cooler now, brushing against my skin as I walk a few steps toward the edge of the clearing. I pause near one of the fence posts, sipping slowly, watching the men settle onto blankets and logs, passing around bottles, smiling like there’s nowhereelse they’d rather be.

Every year,I think,I used to wait like this. Just like this—watching, hoping. Birthday candles burnt out, cake getting dry, Mom trying to cover his absence with soft excuses that only made the silence louder.

I take another sip, the sweetness of the punch turning sharp.

Every year, I thought: this’ll be the one. Dad’ll show up. He’ll remember me.

But he never did.

A shaky breath escapes me. I glance back at the party; the kids curled together like puppies, their little faces lit up in the lantern glow. They deserve better than waiting and wondering if they’re enough to stay for.

There’s nothing Eli or Junie could ever do that would make their mom’s leaving make sense. Nothing.

So, why did I feel for so many years like my father leaving was all my fault?

There is nothing in the world, apart from death, that would keep these men from these children.

The ache sneaks up on me, rising so fast, I don’t see it coming. It burns behind my eyes and swells in my throat. I try to blink it away, to swallow it down, but the tears spill before I can stop them.