Page 61

NASH

“She’s gonna love it,” Levi says from the porch, arms crossed, one boot propped on the rail.

Lennon is perched on the steps behind him, chewing on a toothpick. “She better. My knees are still sore from sanding that damn floor by hand.”

We’ve been working on this surprise for weeks now, putting in hours quietly, after chores, late into the night under string lights and bug zappers, arguing about paint colors and wood finishes and which chair would “look most like her,” whatever the hell that means.

But now it’s done, mostly, and I’m pacing the gravel like an idiot because I’m nervous.

I snort. “Your knees are sore from trying to impress her on the den rug.”

He grins. “Same difference.”

But me? I’m too restless to joke for long.

I’ve seen Grace read poetry at dawn with a blanket over her shoulders and steam rising from her coffee.

I’ve seen her scribble in that battered leather notebook of hers in the barn, in the truck, even while waiting for water to boil.

I’ve seen her eyes light up when she talks about language, and the way her whole body softens when someone listens.

And we’ve been listening.

She just hasn’t realized how much.

When she finally walks out of the house, flushed and beautiful, her hair still damp from a shower and her mouth curved in a question, we all straighten up. Levi nudges me with his elbow. “Go on. You’re up.”

I meet her halfway and take her hand.

“Come with me.”

She raises a brow. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Levi and Lennon trail a few steps behind as I lead her around the side of the barn, where the old tool shed used to be.

It’s now transformed with wood reclaimed from the old fence, a tin roof that still rattles in the wind, and windows we framed out ourselves.

There’s a little porch that’s big enough for a chair and a potted plant, and the inside glows golden through the glass.

It’s nothing fancy, but in a ranch filled with men and kids, this place will be for Grace only.

Her sanctuary. A little piece of home out here in the country.

Grace stops walking. Her hand tightens around mine.

“What is this?” she asks, voice already shaking.

Levi steps forward and opens the door for her, holding it wide. “Go in and see, darlin’.”

She walks inside and goes still. Inside, the floor is smooth and made of sanded pine.

There’s a wide desk made from an old barn door, shelves already holding books we unpacked from boxes that arrived from Grace’s apartment.

We picked out some to display: poetry, some cowboy romance that made us all smile and nod knowingly, and a weird dystopian romance with a cool-looking zombie on the cover that will hopefully scare the kids away if they come disturbing.

A worn leather chair sits in the corner, and the throw blanket from Grace’s room is draped over it.

A lamp we found at a flea market casts a soft yellow glow over everything.

The painting McCartney created for her birthday hangs on the wall, a reminder of our commitment and her new life.

Lennon even snuck in a tiny coffee machine because, of course, he did.

“Who did this?” she asks.

Lennon leans against the wall, arms crossed, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “Three guesses.”

“All of us,” I say. “It isn’t perfect. The paint’s a little uneven.

Levi dropped a whole can down the steps.

And Jaxon hung that shelf crooked, even after swearing he used a level.

But it’s yours. Your corner of the world.

We remembered what you said. About how your apartment was too stark to ever feel like home.

About how you used to write in closets when you were little because of the noise and distraction.

About your dream of writing books that will touch people’s hearts. ”

She blinks rapidly. “You remembered all that?”

I nod. “We hear you, Grace.”

She’s quiet. Too quiet.

Then she turns around, and her cheeks are wet with tears.

She walks back to me and buries herself in my chest. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

“This is the first place,” she says softly, “that feels like it was made for me.”

“It was,” I say. “It is.”

Levi steps up beside us and wraps an arm around both our shoulders. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

Lennon taps the window frame lightly and says, “Now you’ve got to finish that novel.” He winks, but there’s a shine in his eyes, too. A shine that says he believes in her. We all do.

As Grace wipes away tears and leans into me, there’s a shout from outside the little cabin.

“Gracie!”

We all turn as the sound of feet pounding the earth gets louder—Eli, Junie, Hannah, Caleb, and Matty come tearing around the side of the barn, hair flying, faces bright with excitement.

Eli barrels straight into Grace’s legs, nearly knocking her off balance. Grace laughs, stumbling back into me as she steadies her.

“Whoa there, cowgirl.” She crouches. “You okay?”

Eli nods furiously, then looks behind her, wide-eyed at the cabin. “Is this yours? Like… your actual house?”

Grace blinks, surprised by the question. “Well… no, it isn’t a house. Just a little space for writing and thinking.”

Eli chews on her lip, considering that. Then, her voice goes quieter. “Does it mean you’re staying?”

The whole cluster of kids waits, staring. Even Junie, who never stops moving, pauses to look at Grace with those big eyes full of worry and hope.

Dust rises, and Brody, Jaxon, Cody, Dylan, Conway, Harrison, McCartney, and Corbin filter over from the house and barn, drawn like magnets to this tiny building and the woman standing in its center.

Grace stands slowly and looks at all of us, one by one. Her eyes are damp but clear. Her voice, when it comes, doesn’t shake.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m staying.”

Eli throws her arms around Grace’s waist so hard she has to brace her feet. Junie clings to her arm. Hannah tucks herself against Grace’s side and doesn’t let go.

“You’re really, really back?” Eli says into her stomach.

Grace nods, kneeling so she can wrap all three of them up in her arms, then five when Caleb and Matty push forward. “I’m back for good.”

I watch as Brody’s throat works. Conway crosses his arms and looks up at the sky like he’s thanking some higher being. Dylan mutters something about “damn dust in the air” and wipes the corner of his eye.

Jaxon’s the first to break the tension. He kneels beside Grace and scoops Junie into his lap. “Guess we’ll have to start brushing up on bedtime stories again.”

“And make room at the table,” Cody adds, ruffling Eli’s hair. “She takes her coffee black, and she steals bacon off your plate if you’re too slow.”

Grace laughs. “You better eat faster.”

Conway steps up last and rests his hand gently on her shoulder. “This place would make a great study—”

Grace puts her hand up. “Don’t even think about bringing your dusty files in here. This is where ideas are going to be formed in peace.”

McCartney hands over a small package, surprising us all.

Grace tears at the simple brown paper, looking between the gift and McCartney, her eyes warm and searching.

When she uncovers a small, framed portrait of herself, she gasps, holding it close to her chest before drawing it back slowly so she can study the detail.

“It’s so beautiful,” she gushes, tears streaming down her face in earnest now.

“Gracie, you’re in my hands, my head, my damn sketchbook.

I could draw a hundred sunsets, and none of them would feel like you.

” He touches her face. “We’re really glad you’re staying.

None of us would be the same without you.

This place lost its beating heart when you left.

” He presses a soft kiss to her lips. “We love you, Gracie. Every man and child on this ranch loves you with all their hearts.”

Overwhelmed, she clings to him, crying into his neck.

“Why is Miss Grace sad?” Eli asks, worried.

“I’m not. I’m so happy, I can’t keep it all inside,” Grace explains.

Eli nods as though she understands completely.

We all crowd around for a big group hug.

The kids weave in and out of the forest of our legs, laughing like it’s the best thing in the world, before being snatched up and smooshed into the middle for hugs and kisses.

The cabin is small, but somehow, we all fit, and this simple room, created with love and hard work, is full of everything we’re building together.