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O nce Caleb finishes feeding Magnolia, we head back to the cottage.

Mama Julie and Pops are in town running errands, so I offered to make lunch for Jensen, my brothers, and the ranch hands.

It’s sweltering hot, so I pack a cooler with sweet tea and water to go along with their ham and cheese sandwiches.

It’s a simple affair but should keep them fueled till dinner.

Mama Julie always hosts a big barbecue after a long day of hauling hay or moving cattle.

I’m standing at the kitchen counter with Caleb beside me on a stool, his tongue poking out in concentration. I slather mayo and mustard onto the bread, and once I slide a piece his way, he carefully lays down a slice of cheese.

“You’re mighty good at this, Chef Caleb.”

He grins, puffing out his chest.

After adding the condiments, I circle to his other side and add the ham to each sandwich before putting the final piece of bread on top of each .

“Alright, little man. Go wash your hands and put your shoes on so we can take your dad and the guys their lunch.”

He hops off the stool and darts out of the kitchen. I finish wrapping the sandwiches and stack them into a reusable bag. I’ve already loaded the drinks into my Jeep, so the hard part is finished.

I’ve just put away the leftover ingredients when Caleb comes back in wearing a pair of boots Pops gave him. He stumbles every few steps, and I notice they’re on the wrong feet. Each time he catches himself, he lets out an impatient huff.

“Thanks for listening, bud. Could I fix your shoes so it’s easier to walk?”

He frowns, glancing down at his feet before nodding.

I crouch in front of him, his small hands gripping my shoulders for balance. While I switch his shoes, he absently twirls a piece of my hair. It’s such a small thing, but it melts my heart to see how at ease he is with me.

No one could ever replace his mom, but I’m doing my best to show him a fraction of the safety and warmth I’m certain she did.

I just hope that his time in Bluebell, surrounded by people who love him, has been enough to help him break through the walls he’s built.

He deserves to rediscover what it means to be a kid again without carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

When his boots are on the right feet, I give them a light pat on the top. “You’re all set. Ready to head out?”

He gives me a thumbs-up before running over to the kitchen table to grab the basket filled with apples.

“You’re the best helper,” I say, grabbing the bag of sandwiches from the counter.

He bites his lip, eyes locked on the fruit in his hands, making sure he doesn’t drop any.

Once we’re in the car, I roll down the windows and tune into a local country radio station. It’s become a tradition for Caleb and me whenever we drive together. He bobs his head to the music, one hand stretched out the back window, fingers catching in the breeze as we cruise through the ranch.

“I love my new rubber duck,” I say over my shoulder. “Thanks for getting it for me. It fits right in next to the unicorn one from my friend Birdie.”

Caleb looks my way with a smile.

After a trip to the toy store last week, he brought me home a lime-green duck shaped like a T-Rex, with orange spikes running down its back and a tail curling behind it.

Jensen helped him pick it out, and it’s touching that they went out of their way to find something I’d appreciate.

Jensen’s attention to my likes and dislikes means a lot, especially when he gets Caleb involved in turning a small gift into a meaningful memory.

My new dino rubber duck is the perfect addition to the collection and now holds the center spot on my console.

The tires crunch over gravel as I pull up beside the field where everyone is working.

Heath is operating the tractor, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the rows are feeding evenly, clouds of dust rising behind him in thick plumes.

Jensen, Walker, and the ranch hands work nearby with a front-end loader, scooping the bales and loading them onto a flatbed truck parked at the edge of the field near my Jeep.

This operation is like a well-oiled machine.

My gaze drifts to Jensen, his white shirt soaked with sweat, clinging to his back as he lifts another bale onto the truck. The cowboy hat he’s wearing is downright sexy, and I remember exactly what that body is capable of—his strong hands gripping my thighs and his mouth on mine, rough and urgent.

As soon as he spots my Jeep, he wipes the sweat from his brow and lifts a hand in greeting.

I exhale, forcing myself to rein in my fantasy. Now isn’t the time or place to have lusty thoughts.

“Come on, little man,” I say over my shoulder to Caleb. “They look like they could use a break, and your dad sure seems excited to see you.”

I get Caleb out of the vehicle, and together we lay out the spread in the back of the Jeep so the guys can easily grab a drink and a sandwich when they’re ready.

Walker and Jensen are the first to head over. Caleb runs straight into Jensen’s arms, giggling as he lifts him and spins him in a circle.

“Appreciate you stopping by, sis,” Walker says, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler and drinking it down in seconds.

“Figured you could use backup in this heat.”

“It’s a scorcher today, that’s for damn sure.”

“Y’all making good progress?” I ask.

“We always do with Heath in charge. He’s a tough taskmaster.

” Walker tosses his empty bottle in the garbage bag I brought and picks three apples from the basket.

“Your pretty boy kept up, surprisingly, even though his gloves were more for gardening than hauling hay. Good thing we had extras or his hands would be toast.” One by one, he sends the apples into the air, keeping them moving in a continuous arc as his fingers catch and release them with ease.

“Hey, you’re just jealous that after all these years away, I still got it,” Jensen quips, joining us at the back of the Jeep.

He moves next to me, his eyes dropping to my mouth as his fingers graze my hip. We both stiffen when he realizes his mistake, and he’s quick to pull back. We glance at Caleb, who’s too focused on Walker and his juggling act to notice.

“We’ll see how cocky you are after a few more Saturdays in the fields.” Walker smirks, looking between Jensen and me.

After a few more rounds, he catches all three apples, sets two in the basket, and sinks his teeth into the third.

“What have you two been up to?” Jensen asks as he gets a sandwich. “Anything fun? ”

“We stopped by the stables and visited Magnolia, one of the mares. Caleb even got to feed her,” I say.

He lets out a low whistle. “You did?”

Caleb nods enthusiastically, stretching out his hands to show how big Magnolia was compared to him.

“That’s awesome. Can’t wait to hear more about it later,” Jensen says, ruffling his hair.

Caleb’s therapist recommended we ask open-ended questions that encourage him to talk about his day.

Just small openings so he knows we’re here when he’s ready to share.

Jensen’s taken every suggestion seriously, and has even started asking her for parenting books and podcast recommendations, now that he’s gone through his pile at home.

When the ranch hands and Heath join us at the Jeep, I step back so they can grab their lunch.

I’ve brought food out to my brothers more times than I can count, but with Jensen and Caleb here, it feels different.

They’re slowly weaving themselves into my heart, turning even the simplest tasks and routines into things I look forward to because they’re around.

On the way back from the fields, Caleb and I swing by the ranch house to check on the rest of the newly hatched chicks.

Mama Julie and Pops got back from town while we were out, and Caleb was more than eager to stay with them for a few hours while I went back to patch up a section of the corral that I noticed was damaged earlier.

As I mend the fence, I’m reminded that not long ago, my days were spent maintaining the cabins and working around the ranch.

I mostly kept to myself aside from weekly dinners with Mama Julie and Pops, and the occasional rescue mission or girls’ night with my friends.

My focus had been set on saving for my children’s sanctuary and renovating the cottage.

For the most part, I was content, but restlessness had started to creep in, and I couldn’t pinpoint why.

Then Jensen came to Bluebell and asked me to be Caleb’s nanny.

It brought a sense of purpose I didn’t realize I was missing.

I’ve volunteered with a local nonprofit that helps young children through hard times and hosted several camps for kids with trauma here at the ranch, but nothing has been as fulfilling as my afternoons spent with Caleb.

The crunch of gravel under tires pulls me from my thoughts. Heath’s blue pickup rolls up with Jensen and my brothers inside.

“Finished for the day?” I ask as they climb out.

“Yeah. Just have to put away some of the equipment before we meet the ranch hands at the house for dinner,” Heath mumbles.

He’s always extra grumpy after a long day in the fields.

Jensen climbs out of the back seat, pulls off his hat, and wipes the sweat from his forehead.

“I just found out pretty boy here borrowed one of Heath’s hats. It’s like he doesn’t know us,” Walker adds with a mocking laugh.

“Excuse me,” Jensen replies dryly. “I wasn’t aware that not all cowboy hats are created equal.”

“This is why you never should’ve left Bluebell. Living in the city for so long made you think any old hat would do. It’s about finding one that fits you . Not swiping one of Heath’s.”

“Are you forgetting you let me borrow yours last month?”

“That was a one-time thing. You’re working on the ranch again, so you need your own.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “If it’s that important, I’ll get a damn cowboy hat.”

Walker claps him on the back. “Atta-boy.”