Dawn came same time as always, the sun not caring how late the party goers had stayed, dancing the night away on the ranch. Wes held his cup of coffee, extra strong, in his hand, as he admired the sunrise from his porch. Carrie had stayed up, sashaying across the parquet floor, until just a few hours ago. Never one to sleep past dawn, Wes had risen at the first rays of light peering through the window. Tucking the quilt under Carrie’s chin Wes had left her sleeping like a baby. She would be in bed until noon.

Smiling, Wes sipped at his steaming coffee, remembering how Carrie looked, dancing among the twinkling lights, her rose skirts flying and her boots tapping in time with the music. When he finally called it a night, she had protested, pouting and begging, “one more song” until Wes had scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the bunkhouse. Watching the departure, wedding guests hooted and hollered at the display, as Carrie giggled. He had pulled off her boots and dress, put her into a clean nightgown and tucked her in. Carrie was asleep before Wes had a chance to turn the light out.

Jessica and Ray had spent half their big day thanking Wes, Carrie and Mama repeatedly. It was the ranch owners’ pleasure to host the big bash, and Mama made it no secret that she had been living for the chance to throw a spring wedding on the sprawling estate. The day had gone off without a hitch. Except for his baby brother being taken away by Gary.

From his vantage point of the top of the hill, Wes could see his red truck turning onto the drive. Legs sore as he stood and stretched, Wes gave a sigh. This was not going to be an easy task. Garrett was as stubborn as he was selfish. Wes just hoped this morning didn’t lead to another brawl.

Careful not to clomp his boots, lest he wake Carrie, Wes made his way down the steps of the porch, heading to the ranch house to meet his brother.

* * *

“Rehab?” Garrett swirled a spoon in his coffee, trying to dissolve the three packs of sugar he had just shaken into his mug. Seeing Garrett seated in his usual seat in the ranch house’s kitchen made Wes wish for simpler times.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Wes was grateful the R word hadn’t earned him a black eye. “Rehab,” he confirmed softly. “Sixty-day program, start to finish. They have over an eighty-five percent success rate.”

Leaning back in his chair, “I’m sure I’ll be one of the lucky fifteen percent,” Garrett said. “I can’t ever seem to get my life on track.”

“It’s better than the alternative, doing nothing,” Wes said, resting his elbows on the table.

“Can’t I just dry out on the ranch?” Garrett asked, looking at Wes hopefully. The way he raised his brows reminding Wes of how he looked when they were young and Garrett was still his kid brother. A dull ache rang out in the center of Wes’ chest.

“No,” Wes said, quietly. “I don’t think that would work.”

His fingertips tapping the sides of his mug, Garrett answered, “I see,” not looking up to meet Wes’ eyes.

“Garrett, you need professional help. Sitting around the ranch and having me fight you every time you try to take a drink is not going to work. And you can’t go back to New York and pick up right where you left off. The temptation to party is too great.”

“Money, that’s the problem with Wall Street. Everyone has too much damn money and the bars are on point,” Garrett said with a sigh. “It’s an impossible scene to avoid.”

Pulling the creased pamphlet from his shirt pocket, Wes held the brochure for Freefall in his hand. “Ray told me all about this place and as a bartender, he’s known a lot of alcoholics in his days. Do you remember when Mr. Lancet mysteriously disappeared on a two-month cruise and came back to Poke all tanned and looking ten years younger?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Garrett answered, “Yes? Vaguely, I never really kept up with the sixty plus crowd.” Garrett’s interest in others often did not extend to anyone outside of his immediate circle. Mostly, Garrett’s attention danced in the realm of self-interest only.

“Mr. Lancet hit rock bottom. Ray got him hooked up with this place, and he’s been dry ever since.” Wes left out the fact that Ray had paid for Mr. Lancet’s little excursion right out of his own pocket. No need to rub in the generosity of Jessica’s new husband with Garrett.

“Let me see the pamphlet,” Garrett said, reaching his hand out to Wes. Saying a silent prayer, Wes placed the Freefall Recovery leaflet into Garrett’s open palm.

Flipping through the pages, Garrett hovered over the success statistics Wes had quoted. A moment later, he looked up. “It is in sunny, California. I guess I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf.”

Feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten, Wes watched his brother taking a genuine interest in the words printed on the paper. When Garrett finally looked up at Wes, there was a smile on his face and a glint of something Wes hadn’t seen in his brother’s eyes in a long time. Hope.

“Let’s give it a try,” Garrett said.

Preparing himself for the second round of news he was about to lay on his brother, Wes took a deep breath. “I was hoping you would say that. Your plane leaves in two hours,” Wes said, bracing himself.

Relief washed over Wes at the sound of Garrett’s boisterous laugh. “You don’t waste time, do you, brother?” Garrett asked, slapping his open palms onto the table. “What about my clothes?”

“Ah, you need a new wardrobe anyhow. I don’t think your city slicker duds will fit in with all those hippies in Cali, dude.”

“And my apartment?”

“I know your house sitter would love to stay at your place another two months, instead of going back to her little hovel apartment in the Bronx.”

“Looks like you’ve got everything figured out, big brother. But what about my job? I think my boss will be pretty miffed when I don’t show up Monday morning.”

“That’s the greatest part.” If Garrett hadn’t thrown his famous right hook yet, it was coming. Wes steadied himself, saying, “You quit. This morning, over the phone. The secretary said you sounded sexier than usual, but other than that, there was no fuss. They aren’t expecting you back, ever.”

Wes was shocked and delighted by the great belly laugh that erupted out of Garrett.

“Well, isn’t that just something?” Garrett asked, shaking his head in disbelief and amusement.

“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” Wes said. “You wear fancy clothes and drive expensive cars, but you have a lot of Mama’s financial guru in you, and I’m sure your bank account is just about bursting at the seams.”

“And if I run out of money, I can always sell the ranch and claim my half of the fortune,” Garrett said with a devious wink.

“Over my dead body,” Wes growled.

Still laughing, Garrett said, “Cool it, big bro. Just kidding. I’d sell the horses first,” the mischievous glint returned to Garrett's eyes.

Wes had to laugh at his overreaction to his brother’s jokes. Garrett loved to push buttons, that’s usually what led to the two of them scrapping on the floor. Ultimately, Wes was getting what his heart desired, a chance to get his brother back. He could let the jabs go, this time.

Taking the last sip of his coffee, Wes stood, stretching. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late to the airport.”

Garrett stood, gesturing at his empty arms. “I don’t think it will take too long to get through security, I’m traveling pretty light.”

Chuckling, Wes wrapped an arm around Garrett’s shoulders as they headed down the stairs of the ranch house to the waiting truck.

Turning to Wes just as he grabbed the handle of the passenger door, Garrett looked at his brother. Eyes glistening with unshed tears, Garrett said, “Thanks, brother. For not giving up on me.”

“Always,” Wes answered.

Climbing into the truck, Wes watched the last of the pink disappear from the early morning sky. Every sunrise brought a new day, and this dawn was no different. Today’s was just holding a little more promise in the edges of its hues.

* * *

Basking in the glow of the morning after his wedding night, Ray sang along to the radio as he polished his gleaming bar tops. He had found himself belting out love ballads, nonstop, ever since Jessica had praised his singing voice. The beer glasses weren’t breaking, so Ray figured he sounded good enough to keep going.

Jessica had insisted she wanted to wait on a honeymoon until Evan was old enough to stay with Mama, Wes and Carrie for a week. Today, they had fallen back into their daily routines. It was a bit surreal for Ray to be doing his regular Sunday morning routine with everything the same, but now as a husband to his wife.

A beep from his cell phone caught Ray’s attention. He smiled to see it was from Wes. “Talk went better than we could have hoped. Flying to CA as I write. Thanks, Ray.”

Ray stood silently, contemplating Garrett’s situation. He was glad he could be helpful. As a bar owner, Ray was a first-hand witness to the dangers of alcohol abuse. Knowing that people were going to drink whether or not he owned a bar, Ray always figured he’d give them somewhere safe to do it.

Since Ray had signed the adoption papers, making Evan officially his son, the man could not shake a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure he wanted Evan to grow up the son of a barkeep. Not being able to picture Evan hanging out at the bar with him, and not willing to have his son unable to visit him at work, Ray had a lot on his mind.

“Maybe I’ll get a job as a singer,” Ray chuckled out loud to himself. There would be time to figure it all out, everything always seemed to work out whether you worried about it or not. Deciding to get back to work, for now, Ray kept an open mind about the possibilities for his future.

The bell above the door tinkled as Ray’s breakfast guest walked in. The wedding day had been a blur, and Ray hadn’t gotten in much time with Buttercup during the festivities. “Well, hello, stranger,” Ray joked. “I hope you’re hungry.” Ray had insisted that Buttercup join him at the bar for breakfast. The kitchen may be small, but Ray could work some miracles in it.

“Hello, Ray,” she said shyly. Her jeans hung from her frame, and the plain white tee-shirt she wore swallowed her whole, accentuating the bony arms that stuck out from underneath. Making her way across the bar, with her head down, auburn hair covering her face, Buttercup climbed up onto a high barstool.

“Bacon, eggs, and sourdough biscuits?”

Buttercup’s eyes went wide. As she nodded her head, her hair moved away from her face. “Yes, please,” she answered, shyly.

There would also be melting butter pats on the biscuits, Ray was making it his personal mission to put a little meat on Buttercup’s bony arms. Ray’s mother had taught him to feed people, he couldn’t help it, it ran in his blood.

“The biscuits are my mother’s recipe. She had a pan waiting by the stove every night, and every morning the smell of them baking in the oven woke me up. There was always food on our stove and people coming in and out of the house. My mom never let an empty stomach walk out her front door. And she was a midwife, so there were always expectant mothers and nursing mothers at my house. You can imagine how much food got eaten.”

Buttercup smiled her sweet, shy smile. A flashing light and vibration of the cell phone she had placed on the bar cast a shadow over her face, erasing the grin. Buttercup immediately grabbed the phone, her finger tips flying over the screen to reply.

Ray watched as the circles under her green eyes seemed to darken while she stared at the screen, waiting for the next message. Not able to ignore his protective nature, Ray gently placed his hand over Buttercup’s tiny one. “Who is that, sweetheart, that keeps you looking so worried?”

Placing the phone down as if releasing a hot pan, Buttercup answered, “Tom.” Looking down at the bar, she let her hair hide her face.

“And Tom is a boyfriend, I’m guessing.”

Giving a little nod, Buttercup peeked up at Ray.

Ray looked his sister over, choosing his words carefully. “But Tom is not a good boyfriend, is he?” he asked, tenderly.

Her face turning down towards the bar again, her hair falling in front of her face, Buttercup gave the tiniest shake of her head. “I moved in with him when Dad died. He can be a little…” Buttercup could not finish her sentence.

“Well, Tom isn’t here now, he’s a million miles away. So, what do you say, we turn this phone off for a few minutes and enjoy our breakfast together?” Ray didn’t offer his other plan, to drive to Tom’s house and threaten his life. That could wait until Ray and Buttercup got a little better acquainted.

The smile returned to Buttercup’s face as she hesitantly silenced the phone. Ray held his hand out to her and with an uncertain look, she placed the cell phone into his open palm. Ray put the phone behind the bar.

“Out of sight, out of mind, as my mother always said. Now, how about those biscuits? You hungry?” Buttercup was more than hungry; Ray could tell just by looking at her. Spiritually, emotionally, and physically, this poor girl was starving. Ray was sure of it.

“Yes. I was too nervous to eat last night. All those new people. They were all so friendly.”

“That’s Poke town for you. It’s a small place and everyone knows each other’s business which can be trying at times. But this community comes together to take care of one another.”

“I saw that last night, with the potluck,” Buttercup laughed. It was a pretty sound, like tinkling bells. Her face looked her age when she laughed. It was an image that Ray hoped to see more of. “I don’t think I’ve ever lived somewhere that people would be willing to bring that much food. And they were all so welcoming of me.”

“The town loved you.” It turned out the DJ, Jake, had also loved Buttercup. His handsome face was crestfallen when Ray had told the young man Buttercup was already spoken for, Buttercup having mentioned a boyfriend during her and Ray’s first phone call as brother and sister. Though, with Buttercup’s face clouding as it did when the boyfriend texted her, Ray almost wished he hadn’t dashed Jake’s hopes.

Ray went back to the kitchen where he had the food waiting for Buttercup’s arrival. He loaded up two plates with stacks of food. She didn’t have to finish the whole thing, but Ray got a feeling this was not a girl who would ask for seconds even if she wanted them, so he made sure there was plenty on her plate to start with.

Ray placed the plates down on the bar, hoping a little home cooking would warm Buttercup up to talking about her life. As she took her first bite of the buttery biscuit, Ray could see a light shining in her eyes.

“So, your mom was a midwife? That had to be interesting,” Buttercup said, in between bites.

Sitting down at the bar, next to his sister, Ray said, “It was. Let me tell you about it.”

* * *

Feeding Evan bites of her meal, Jessica laughed as he scrunched his nose and spit the food out. Her son was leaning towards vegetarian tendencies, much to her beef-loving dismay. She blamed it on the senseless vegetables Ray was always preparing.

Jessica was taking Carrie out for a ‘we survived last night/ thank you’ lunch for helping with the wedding planning. Carrie had insisted on going to The Grill, and that Jessica brought Evan with her.

“So, did Ray spank you on your wedding night?” Carrie asked, helping herself to fried potatoes from Jessica’s plate.

“Geez, Carrie, you are so nosy!” Jessica exclaimed as she tried to fly a bite of meat into Evan’s clamped mouth, his nose wrinkling at the sight of the food.

“What? I was too sick to enjoy my wedding night. I have to live vicariously through you,” Carrie protested, scooping the last few potatoes from Jessica’s plate and onto her own. The tiny woman had eaten all her meal, and half of Jessica’s.

“True, the nurse barely allowed you to raise your hospital bed for the whole five-minute ceremony.” Jessica’s laugh dropped off at the memory of Carrie’s ashen face peeking out from above the quilt that Wes had brought to the hospital. “Gosh, you were so sick. I’m grateful you made it through that, Carrie. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Jessica smoothed back Evan’s hair.

As if he understood the conversation, Evan lovingly patted Carrie’s hand. “Cay-we.”

“That’s Aunt Kiwi to you, little Evan,” Carrie said, laughing at the name Evan had given her. It was sticking and now everyone was referring to Carrie as auntie Kiwi, in Evan’s presence. “You are such a sweet boy, aren’t you, Evan?”

Evan grinned, nodding emphatically.

Watching the maternal way Carrie interacted with Evan warmed Jessica’s heart. “Do you ever think you and Wes would want to have a baby?” Jessica asked softly.

Carrie waved her hand in the air, dismissively. “Oh, kids? We’ve never talked about it.”

Not wanting to pry but finding her best friend’s reply unusual, Jessica asked, “Talked about having one now, or never talked about having kids at all?”

Pushing food on her plate around with the prongs of a fork, Carrie sat quietly.

A hot wave of embarrassment washed over Jessica. Had she crossed a line? “I’m sorry, Carrie, I shouldn’t have asked,” Jessica said, fiddling with her napkin.

“No, I’m not upset. Just thinking. Why haven’t Wes and I ever talked about it, I wonder?” Carrie asked, almost to herself. “The truth is, being around Evan this past year, it’s made me start to have this funny feeling, like something is missing. I’ve started to stare at women who are pregnant, and notice every new baby that passes by me. I guess that’s what they call your clock ticking?”

“Sounds about right,” Jessica answered. She had become pregnant so unexpectedly and was just now feeling like herself for the first time after having Evan. Jessica had not experienced the feeling herself. The memory of holding Evan for the first time allowed her to imagine how it must feel to desire a baby.

Carrie shrugged and said, “Anyway, I guess it’s time Wes and I talked about it.” Putting her fork down, Carrie signaled the discussion was over. “But enough about me, I want to get back to the wedding night,” she said with a saucy grin, back to her silly self.

“Not going to talk about it,” Jessica said, feeling a blush rise all the way from her neck to her cheekbones.

Arriving in the bedroom last night, Jessica had been surprised to see various implements laid out on the bed. The dresser was lined with candles, their soft flicker enhancing the mood of the room as Ray lit them, one by one. The first thing Ray had done was to tie Jessica’s wrists to the bars of the headboard with silk ties. Tight enough so she was not in control but loose enough that he could flip her over at his will. He had spanked her with different items, letting her feel the sting of rubber, and hear the smack of wood as it met her delicate skin. Stretched out on the bed, Jessica embraced the feeling of submission and pleasure as Ray took power over every inch of her body. The memory of her wedding night would not soon fade in her mind, and it was too sacred to be shared.

“Fine,” Carrie groaned. “At least tell me, did I win my bet?”

“What bet?” Jessica asked, taking a sip from her drink.

“The one where you owe me five bucks if you call Ray, daddy, by the end of the month.”

Looking at Carrie curiously, his little brow furrowed, Evan said, “dada,” banging the table with his fork.

The surprise of the sound made Jessica spit coke out all over the table and her shirt. Dabbing at the soda in her embarrassment, she explained, “That’s a new word for him.”

“Dada,” Evan repeated, more emphatically this time, waving his spoon frantically at the glass door of the restaurant. “Dada.”

Turning, Jessica looked over her shoulder to where Evan was pointing. Entering The Grill and heading towards their table was Ray. At his nearness, Evan began to bounce up and down in his highchair calling, “Dada, Dada, Dada,” and stretching his arms out wide.

Giving Carrie a hello, and Jessica a kiss on the cheek, Ray said, “I hope you ladies don’t mind if I pick this one up early, Buttercup wants to spend some time with the little guy.” Ray reached the table and scooped the happy baby out of his seat. “Dada, that’s right, baby boy.” Evan tried to tug on Ray’s shortened beard.

“When did he learn to say that?” Jessica asked, choked with emotion. With Garrett leaving, Jessica lived in fear that Evan wouldn’t know a man as his father. When Ray entered the picture, Jessica had hoped that one day he would feel close enough to Evan to be a father figure. Making their love official with the ceremony, and fatherhood legal with adoption, Jessica desired for Evan to call Ray dad, one day but was too shy to ask Ray his thoughts on the subject.

Staring at Evan lovingly, Ray said, “We’ve been practicing. Haven’t we, Evan?”

Giggling, Evan patted Ray on the chest, answering, “Dada.”

“You’ve been teaching him to say dada?” Jessica asked.

Ray nodded and smiled, “We were shooting for daddy, but dada is good, too. I’ll take what I can get,” Ray said, turning his attention back to Evan.

“That’s so sweet,” Carrie said, wistfully.

Of all the loveable things Ray had done, and the list was infinite, this one tugged at a special place on Jessica’s heartstrings.

“That is sweet. Daddy. I like it.” Jessica said to Ray with a teary smile.

Making sure Ray was busy with Evan before she spoke, Carrie leaned in to Jessica and whispered, “You owe me five bucks.”