Out back, the yard is buzzing with conversation. Lawn chairs are spread around, and someone is tuning a guitar on the porch steps. It's summer at its finest. I see folks from all corners of our lives, ranch hands and old teachers, even Ben deep in a conversation about irrigation systems with someone's uncle. Everyone belongs here in their own way.
"Asher!" Jenna calls, waving me over. "You remember Cade, right? The new vet?"
Cade stands beside the fire pit, looking a little like a ranch dog at a kennel meet-and-greet. New and eager, but guarded. I nod and extend a hand.
"Good to see you again."
He shakes it firmly. "You too. Thanks for calling me out for Duke. That horse has good people looking after him."
"We try. You settling in alright?"
"Getting there. This helps," he says, gesturing to the gathering.
It's hard being new in a town like Walker Lake, but getting out tonight and meeting people will help. The ranchers here are protective of their animals, and they won't always call someone they don't know yet if they have another choice.
Ben walks up not long after Cade is pulled away, already talking about fencing and irrigation. Apparently, he can't turn off the landowner part of his brain. He's got plans for a hobby ranch just west of town, and apparently, no off switch when it comes to soil pH or rotational grazing.
"You get a tractor yet?" I ask.
"Next week," he says, eyes gleaming. "Still trying to decide between red or green."
"You're about to start a war in this county," I say with a grin. "Better pick a side before the neighbors do it for you."
"Green," Zach pipes up from across the table, already shoveling food onto his plate. "Everyone knows green's prettier. Unless you want orange, in which case, we can't be friends."
Finn groans. "God help us, here he goes again. Don't get him started on tractors unless you want a three-hour sermon."
Behind us, Dad chuckles low. "Son, the only war worth fighting is for land and family. Pick your tractor, but remember—it won't matter nearly as much as who's sitting at your table when the day's done." His words settle heavier than the firelight, the kind of thing you don't forget.
Mom pipes up from the end of the table, laughing. "Speaking of fights. Remember the time Finn rode Phantom bareback down Main Street and nearly caused a traffic jam?" Her eyes sparkle as she shakes her head. "Still don't know how you didn't break your neck."
"Talent," Finn grins, puffing his chest out. Zach snorts. "More like dumb luck. I still say Phantom was smarter than you that day."
The jokes roll easily, and soon the sun dips low, casting long shadows across the yard. We move to the long table under the oak trees, plates piled high, drinks passed down the line. You can't even hear yourself think over the stories and laughter.There's something healing about eating with people who've seen you at your worst and loved you anyway.
Halfway down the table, Finn is regaling Natalie with his latest rodeo mishap, pulling up his jeans to show off a bruised shin like it's a trophy. "Eight seconds never felt so long," he says proudly, and everyone groans at the familiar story. Zach throws a roll at him, and Finn catches it midair with a grin.
Jesse clears his throat midway through dinner and stands, holding a glass.
"I won't make a big thing of it," he says, smiling at Natalie beside him. "But it's official. Nate is officially mine. The adoption's finalized."
When Jesse and Natalie met, Natalie was pregnant and about to go through it all alone. Jesse's sister was also pregnant, and they ended up at some of the same classes and events. Before Nate was even born, Jesse had laid his claim on both Natalie and Nate. The adoption was simply paperwork, but also security that Nate wouldn't be taken from them by Natalie’s ex.
Cheers erupt around the table. Natalie wipes at her eyes, and Jesse ducks his head like he didn't just change his whole world with one sentence. I clap him on the back when I pass by to grab seconds. The good kind of heavy settles in my chest. Pride fills the space, real and unspoken, and suddenly everyone seems to breathe a little deeper.
Across the table, Mom dabs at her eyes with a napkin. "That's what it's all about," she whispers, sliding another spoonful of potatoes onto Zach's plate, feeding him as if it’s the only way she knows how to handle good news. She catches me looking and gives me a soft, knowing smile. "Someday, Asher. Don't think I don't see you smiling at that phone of yours."
Later, as the fire crackles and the adults roast marshmallows, I pull my phone from my back pocket and text Kassi.
Me:You ever been to one of those big, noisy family dinners where everyone talks over each other, and the food runs out too fast?
She replies faster than I expect.
Sunshine:Sounds like my favorite kind of chaos.
Me:That's what I'm living in right now. Pulled pork and too many opinions.
Sunshine:Lucky. I had frozen pizza and a moody little girl