Page 10 of Awaiting the Storm (Wildhaven #1)

T he kitchen smells like heaven—fresh-baked bread cooling on the counter, casserole in the oven, and the faint sweet tang of Evelyn Storm’s peach preserves on the table.

The windows are cracked open, letting in the cool midday air and the distant hum of the windmill turning lazily in the breeze out behind the ranch house.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table with my elbows on the worn pine, with my sisters, Cabe, and Grandpa.

“Where’s Albert?” Grandma asks as she sets the bread in the middle of the table.

“He had some errands to run. Said he’d grab a bite in town,” Cabe says as he reaches for a slice.

“He could have told me,” Grandma says, sliding a steaming dish of green beans down the table toward Cabe. “I didn’t spend all morning plucking chicken off the bone to make this huge casserole, just to toss it out ’cause it wasn’t eaten.”

Shelby snorts as she picks up her plate. “Cabe’ll eat the whole thing by himself.”

Cabe looks at her. “Hey, I’m a growing boy.”

Grandma laughs, and I glance at the clock over the sink. Twelve thirty. Lunch was supposed to start at noon, but Cabe was late getting in, and Charli wandered in ten minutes after that.

No one around here has any sense of urgency.

I finally sit back with a full plate—chicken casserole, green beans, and hot sourdough, slathered with a healthy helping of peach preserves.

Friday lunches are always big. Grandma plays bunco with the ladies from her church on Friday evenings, which leaves us fending for ourselves for dinner, so she always makes sure to feed us a big lunch.

I almost get a bite in when Shelby decides to open her mouth and ruin the peace.

“So, Carl’s back,” she announces to the room.

The words land like a ton of bricks.

Cabe freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth. Charli makes a sound like a scoff and then stuffs a piece of bread in her mouth. Evelyn, ever the diplomat, forks at her green beans like Shelby didn’t just lob a grenade into the middle of the table.

I take a slow breath. “Shell.”

“What? Everyone’s gonna know eventually. Might as well get it out in the open.”

I sigh. “It’s not a secret. He showed up at the barn this morning.”

“And what’d the jackass want?” Charli mutters, reaching for the salt.

“To help,” I say.

“Help?” she echoes, her voice dripping with disbelief, like I just told her Carl found the cure to cancer.

“Yep. He’s back in Wildhaven. Says he wants to pitch in around the ranch again.”

Shelby lets out a laugh. “Yeah. That’s why he’s back. Tell them the rest.”

I shoot her a lethal look. “Never mind the rest.”

“Oh, let me guess. He pledged his undying love to Matty and begged her to take him back?” Charli says, setting her fork down and glaring at me.

“Something like that,” I mumble.

“That’s rich. He runs off the second things get hard. Now he’s had a change of heart, and you’re supposed to just welcome him back with open arms like he didn’t rip your heart out?” Charli screeches.

Cabe shrugs. “People change,” he says as he continues to feed his face. “Maybe he regrets the way he left.”

Charli rolls her eyes. “He should. And you, Sissy, had better not be dumb enough to fall for his charming puppy-dog eyes and I’ve changed crap.”

I glance at Charli and Shelby, both of them practically vibrating with sisterly fury.

Grandma looks up from her plate. “I’ll say this: I liked the boy well enough when he was around. He was a hard worker,” she declares, and her eyes come to me. “He brought out a softness in you that’s been gone a long spell now.”

“Wow. Thanks, Grandma,” I mumble, not at all thankful.

“I’m not saying let him back into your bed,” she adds, just to make it worse, and Grandpa chokes on his lunch. She reaches over and slaps him on the back as she continues, “But maybe hear him out and let him help you shovel some stalls.”

Cabe grins into his tea. “Matty, I mean, if he’s willing to shovel shit for you, he might be worth keeping around.”

“Okay,” I say sharply, scooting back from the table and holding up fingers. “Three things. Carl is back—yes. He’s going to be working here again—yes. And my love life is not up for discussion at this table—got it?”

That shuts them up for a beat.

“I’m glad to have help,” I add, reaching for my tea. “That’s it. The last thing on my list of needs right now is romance, especially with someone who already proved he couldn’t handle it.”

Shelby crosses her arms. “Good.”

Grandma gives me a long look. “If you’re sure, sweetheart.”

“I’m sure.”

She nods and reaches for the bowl of preserves, but I know that look. It’s the same one she gave me the night my mother died and I told her I was fine. Evelyn Storm has a built-in lie detector, and I know she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.

But I’m serious. It hurt when Carl left, but I grieved that relationship, and that hurt was replaced with bitterness. The last thing I plan to do is fall back into his arms.

I change the subject before anyone else can poke at the fire any further. “Charli, did you ever finish that check log from the Smiths?”

She nods, wiping her fingers on a napkin. “Finished it this morning. I’ve got the deposits too. Thought I’d head into town after lunch and run everything by the bank. You need anything while I’m out?”

“Yeah, actually. Stop by the feed store and check on that shipment of seed I ordered last week. And swing by the pharmacy. Daddy’s blood pressure refill should be ready.”

“Got it,” she says, then glances around the table. “Anyone else need anything?”

“Grab some condoms at the pharmacy,” Shelby says through a mouthful of casserole.

“Damn, Shelby,” Cabe mutters, amused. “Our grandparents are sitting right here.”

Shelby flicks a green bean at his head. “Just making sure your stupid ass is covered when we go out tonight,” she says, then turns her attention to me. “And you too, Sissy. It’s been a while since anyone knocked the cobwebs off your vajayjay.”

I freeze.

Shelby grins. “The Soused Cow. Tonight. Wildhaven Junction is playing.”

“Oh, no,” I say immediately, already shaking my head. “Nope.”

“Oh, yes,” Charli says. “You’ve been holed up here for far too long, Matty. You need to get out.”

“I get out plenty,” I protest. “I was literally out all morning, mucking stalls and turning out boarders.”

“Not what I meant,” she says. “You need to go somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse sweat and despair.”

Cabe laughs. “And it’s Friday. Your favorite band is playing. We’re not taking no for an answer.”

“I’ve got chores in the morning,” I argue.

“We’ll cover it,” Shelby says, waving me off. “All of us.”

“Wait.” I narrow my eyes. “You’re gonna do my chores?”

Grandma smiles—that same smile she used to wear when she tricked us into cleaning the attic for fun. “They’ve all volunteered. You sleep in tomorrow. Go dance a little tonight. Be young.”

“Grandma.”

She reaches over and pats my hand. “You’re a young woman, but you’ve been old since the day your mother passed. You don’t get a trophy for aging twice as fast and working twice as hard as everyone else. You deserve one night of fun.”

The room goes quiet. All their eyes are on me, and they’re looking at me like I’m a wounded horse someone forgot to put down.

I sigh dramatically. “Fine. I’ll go. One beer. One dance. ”

Shelby whoops, Charli pumps her fist, and Cabe just nods and smiles like he’s proud of me. I hate it all.

“I’m helping pick out your outfit,” Shelby says sternly. “No barn boots. Something with a little sparkle. And lipstick.”

I groan. “You’re all monsters.”

“We’re monsters who love you,” Charli says, already reaching for her phone to text half the county the news that Matty Storm is coming out of hibernation.

“Fine,” I say again, standing and gathering plates. “But if I see one camera flash or TikTok being filmed, I swear I’ll fire you all and sell this place to the first developer who wants to build a cookie-cutter neighborhood with a swimming pool.”

They all laugh at my weak threat.

As everyone finishes eating, I start stacking dishes while Evelyn shoos the others back to work.

“Go on. You’ve got horses to exercise and tack to clean. If you’re getting Matty dolled up for a night out, you’d better get to it.”

“Charli, town,” I say as she grabs her keys. “Don’t forget the deposit. And fill the truck up with gas.”

“I got it,” she says, snagging her purse.

She heads out the door, Shelby and Cabe trailing after her, bickering about something or other, and Grandpa retires to the living room for his afternoon nap in the recliner.

The kitchen falls into a comfortable quiet, just me and Grandma.

She stands at the sink, washing the last few dishes by hand, like she always does, even though we’ve had a working dishwasher since I was in high school. I dry.

“You really okay, baby?” she asks without looking over at me.

“I’m fine,” I assure her.

She hums. “You know, fine isn’t the same as happy.”

“I’m not chasing happy right now, Grandma. I’m just getting by one day at a time.”

She dries her hands on her apron and turns to face me, leaning against the counter. “Well, maybe tonight, let someone chase you for once. ”

I shake my head and grab a dry dish towel, wiping my hands. “You’re all impossible.”

“We just love you.”

“How lucky for me.”

She smiles again, warm and indulgent, and I realize I am lucky to have this—this table, this kitchen, this loud and nosy family. Even if they do drive me crazy.

Especially when they do.