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“OG as in old guy?” John B laughs.

Sally smiles. “That, or original gangster. Either way, you’re the world’s best teacher.”

“You’re a mighty fine student, sweetheart, when you’re not being a mighty big pain in the ass.”

Patsy scoffs. “Like y’all aren’t two peas in a pod. Sally, honey, this is Mollie Luck, Garrett’s daughter.”

“Mollie! Hey! It’s so great to finally meet you. Your dad talked about you often.”

My heart clenches. That answers that question. “Hi, Sally. That’s kind of you to say. I”—my throat tightens, and I clear it—“miss him.”

“Aw, Mollie, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Sally sets down the sugar on the island next to the jugs of tea. “We all miss Garrett.”

Patsy nods as Sally helps her pour an obscene amount of sugar into the jugs. What I would give to be able to drink that stuff without paying for it with a terrible stomachache later.

“He was so good to all of us.”

“Truly the best,” Sally says, grabbing a wooden spoon. She stirs the tea while her mom rolls up the mostly empty bag of sugar.

Watching them work together, I’m gripped by the acute need for my own mother. Mom wouldn’t be caught dead making her own tea, much less with sugar in it. But she’s always been my biggest cheerleader and a constant source of support, even if she is super wrapped up in her work and the Dallas social scene.

That’s support I could really, really use right now. I may be twenty-six years old, but in this moment, I feel all of fourteen, awkward and lost and bursting with emotions I can’t process and don’t understand.

I feel myself tilting into a death spiral of regret and grief. My eyes burn. I can barely breathe around the moon in my throat.

I am in a room full of people who had a closer relationship with my father than I did. And none of them are evenrelatedto him.

It makes me feel like absolute shit.

But just as I’m about to actually burst into tears, the back door opens. Sunlight floods the kitchen as a man steps inside, sweeping his sweat-stained hat off his head.

“Ooooo-eeee, don’t that smell good! Y’all got noideathe hurt I’m ’bout to put on this food. Sally, don’t tell me you made your buttercream frosting for those brownies.”

Sally rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Wyatt, you smell atrocious.”

“Eau de horse.” He waves his scent toward her.

She flaps her hand in front of her nose. “More like BO.”

“You’re welcome to hose me down out back.” He holds out his arms and smirks. “You can undress me and everything.”

“Let me get my rubber gloves,” Sally deadpans.

The man coming in the door behind Wyatt roars with laughter. “Dang, Sally, we missed having you around. Someone needs to kick this kid’s?—”

“Children are present,” Sawyer warns, covering Ella’s ears with his hands.

“Sally recently graduated from a veterinary residency,” Goody explains. “She’s been shadowing her dad ever since while she decides what she’d like to do with her degrees long-term. That’s Duke.” She points to the other man. “He’s Sawyer’s younger brother.”

“Ah,” I say, staring at the door as one cowboy after the next wipes his boots on the mat outside before entering the kitchen.

Each one takes off his hat, hair soaked through with sweat. Their faces and hands are deeply tanned, making their blue eyes pop even more.

The men are alarmingly dirty and even more alarmingly handsome, despite the sweat and the dust and the, er,outdoorsysmell that rises off them.

My heart pounds. How many Rivers boys were there? Four? Twelve?

And when is Cash going to walk through that door?Ishe going to walk through it? What do I say to him? So far, everyone’s been exceptionally kind to me. I don’t want to break thespell. But I also don’t want to give him any kind of advantage by playing nice.