Page 147 of 11 Cowboys

Nash herds the twins into the kitchen, McCartney argues with Cody over the correct stew-to-bread ratio, and I glance around the table and feel something tighten in my chest.

I'm not nervous or anxious, just so full of love that I'm breathless from gratitude.

I slide into my seat beside Corbin, who gives me a quiet, knowing glance. Dylan's eyes meet mine, and I flash him a small smile.

When everyone's finally settled, chatter bouncing off walls, I clear my throat.

No one hears me the first time.

“Hey,” I try again, louder. “Can I… can I say something before we eat?”

Conversations taper off, heads turning. Caleb looks up, eyes wide. “Is it story time?”

“Sort of,” I say, smiling at him. “It's a story we're just starting.”

Corbin squeezes my hand under the table, warm and steady.

I glance at my mom and all the men who have embraced me into this home, and feel tears swell in my throat. I can't wait anymore.

“I'm pregnant,” I blurt out.

The room goes still.

For one perfect heartbeat, there's nothing but shocked breathing.

Then Cody lets out a cheer that's somewhere between a shout and a yodel.

“What!” McCartney hollers. “No way!”

Corbin finally breaks into a grin, his joy spilling out like light through a crack. “I knew it.”

Dylan reaches across to hold my hand. “I knew it, too.”

Rory's clapping and hopping in his seat.

“We're getting a baby?” Eli asks.

My mom's hand flies to her mouth, eyes welling up as she wraps her arm around my shoulder and kisses me hard on the cheek. “That's the best news, sweetie. You're going to make an amazing mother.”

Conway stands, his eyes fixed on me possessively and lifts his glass. “To the newest piece of this beautiful chaos.”

The room explodes into congratulations, questions, and laughter.

There are a few R-rated jokes about the inevitability of my conception with eleven men in my bed that thankfully go over the heads of the kids, but not my mom, who blushes.

Corbin wraps his arm around my shoulders, kisses my temple again, and murmurs, “Have I told you how happy you make us?”

“You have,” I smile. “But I'll never tire of hearing it.”

This baby is coming into a world full of noise, love, hands ready to hold, and voices ready to sing them home.

And I wouldn't change a single thing.

***

The porch creaks under the weight of our makeshift family. Eleven men spread across rocking chairs and steps; boots kicked off, plates of dessert balanced on knees. Laughter rolls lazily through the warm evening air, mixing with the faint hum of cicadas and the joyful shrieks of kids chasing fireflies out in the yard.

I sit on the swing, Beau sprawled at my feet, his tail thumping every time a child races by. Rory trips and falls, giggling, and Levi is off the step in a heartbeat, scooping him up and holding him close. “Come here, son. You've got to be careful.” He kisses his cheek, brimming with so much love and pride that it squeezes my heart. Matty shriekssomething about cops being stronger than cowboys that makes everyone laugh.

The land stretches out around us like it's cradling the house in both hands. Moonlight lies softly across the pasture. Cows groan in the distance, sleepy as the night. The air smells like hay, smoke, and home.

I hold my notebook in my lap, but I'm not writing. I'm watching. Relaxing.Belonging.

I won't wait much longer to start my next book, but I'm not quite ready yet. My own story is reaching a climax, and I want to enjoy it.

“You still think this place is in the middle of nowhere?” Conway asks, stepping onto the porch with two mugs of warm, sweet tea.

“No,” I say, and it's the truest thing I've said all day. “I think it might be the center of everything.”