Mason caught Gabby’s gaze. The sparkle in her smiling brown eyes stirred his soul as always, but the idea that she could be carrying their baby added a kick to the intoxicating sensation, doing funny things to his insides, and parts further south.

“Hey, darlin’.” Matt dashed to her side.

As Matt hugged their wife, Mason raked his gaze over her petite frame, looking for any signs to confirm their suspicions. Were her breasts larger? He hadn’t noticed when they’d last made love, but he hadn’t been looking then, either. Well, at least not for that. It was hard to tell beneath the billowy white blouse she wore tucked into one of her favorite skirts. She turned to hand Matt the bags she’d brought inside, and Mason scanned her waistline. She’d always been a healthy kind of curvy in all the right places, but had she gained a little weight?

Gabby’s gaze returned to Mason and she paused. “What?” she asked with a carefree smile, glancing down at the front of her blouse. “Did I spill something?”

Two steps and Mason had her in his arms. She yelped when he picked her up and spun her around, depositing her on the kitchen counter like he would a fresh carton of fragile eggs.

“Oh, no,” she said with a lighthearted laugh when he kissed her. “Flirty kisses will not persuade me to spill the baby news. You’ll have to wait until Jonah makes the announcement at dinner.”

“Fine,” Mason said, smiling against her soft lips. “Tell me something else.” Tell me you’re having my baby.

Gabby drew back, glancing between him and Matt, who’d sidled up beside them. “Like what?” she asked, raising a saucy brow as she fingered the buttons on his and his brother’s shirt.

“Anything.” Mason kissed the tip of her nose. He studied her eyes, her smile, looking for any of her numerous tells he’d learned over the years. Their wife was good at keeping secrets but not all that great at hiding she had one.

“Well...” She drew in a long breath. “It was a truly magical day,” she said with a long dreamy exhale and melted against him. “I can’t imagine a more perfect day.”

His brother tipped her chin toward him and dipped to give her a lingering kiss. “I can think of one,” he said, bouncing his brows in his usual playful way. “The two of us naked on a blanket after an afternoon dip in the creek.”

“Oh-no,” Mason protested with a chuckle. “Don’t think you’re leaving me out of this.” He slipped his hands beneath her skirt, working it over her bare legs. He’d always been a leg man, and having Gabby’s wrapped around him as he sank deep into her wet heat, the setting sun sparkling over the drops of water on her skin as he kissed them away…yeah, he’d go for that.

“Eh-hem,” Grey cleared his throat behind them. “Better make it three,” he declared, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway, his eyes dark with the same seductive ideas racing through Mason’s thoughts.

Gabby beckoned their older brother, pulling him to her until their lips met in a welcoming kiss that made Mason forget the blanket-by-the-creek fantasy. He was ready to strip her naked, lay her out right there on the counter, and make love to her until she confessed every one of her secrets.

“We need to start cooking,” she protested with a regretful whine. “Everyone will be here for dinner soon.”

Matt groaned. “As far as I’m concerned, dinner’s already cookin’, darlin’. We’re about to be served.”

Gabby pushed them all away with an incredulous chuckle. “You’re incorrigible.” She slipped off the counter and righted her blouse. “All of you—stop that!” she yelped, twisting away and batting at Grey’s hands when he tried to untuck her shirt again. “This is an important night for Jonah, and I want to make it memorable.”

“Oh, we can make it memorable, alright,” Matt teased.

On guard, Gabby skirted past him to the pantry, but Mason was quick. She gasped when he pulled her back into his arms and gave her one last kiss, and a wink that promised much more before the night was through.

Contrary to her expectations, their contribution to dinner was ready by the time Gran and the Papas arrived with the main course. “Your cooking always smells amazing, Mom,” Mason commented as Hazel, Papa Joe, Papa Nate, and Papa Jake filed through the front door.

“I was out with the girls all day,” Hazel said. “I’m afraid the credit goes to your dads on this one.” Hazel pushed up on her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek, then followed his dads into the kitchen.

The table was set. The voices of their growing family boomed over the clanging of dishes as the food was prepared and brought into the dining room one dish at a time.

Mason and Matt took turns watching Gabby, he from the dining room, Matt from the kitchen. They might be overreacting, considering their entire theory of her being pregnant was based on some internet algorithm he didn’t fully understand. After Connor, Carson, and Breezy arrived, he’d managed to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes and do a quick internet search on some of the risks Matt was talking about. As far as he was concerned, they were worrisome enough to warrant the extra attention. They weren’t taking any chances of her passing out and spilling a pot of scalding coffee on herself like she did the Christmas they found out she was pregnant with Cory.

“Dad, can you grab the gravy dish from the china cabinet?” Dani asked him as she set the salt and pepper shakers on the dining table.

Mason retrieved the piece of china from the cupboard and walked it around to her. “Dani, wait.” He snagged her sleeve before she could turn away.

On top of everything else, things had been strained between him and Dani since her engagement to...Clay. Christ, Matt was right. He still couldn’t think of that man without his head splitting in two. He didn’t know why he was having such a hard time with this, except that Clay was thirty fucking years old, and Dani was barely drinking age. Seeing them together, naked in the damn barn, hadn’t helped.

Oh, and there was the small detail of him stealing their little girl away, possibly forever. And he hadn’t even asked their permission, not that Dani needed it, but he still couldn’t believe she wanted to get married in the first place. He was her first serious boyfriend. Why couldn’t they date for a while first? A decade would be ideal.

He massaged the acute stabbing pain in his temple. Even if Gabby hadn’t pointed it out repeatedly, that he was acting like an ass, he knew he hadn’t handled the situation very well. He needed to patch things up with Dani. But how was he supposed to be happy about this?

Dani saw his sour expression and rolled her eyes before turning away.

“No, wait.” He snagged her sleeve again. “I… Have you heard from…him, since he went back to Texas?”

Dani raised her chin with a cool stare. “Clay and I talk every day, Dad.”

“Good.” Mason palmed the scruff on his chin. Communication was good. Vital to a healthy relationship. That was all that mattered, right? That she was happy and healthy?

Dani sighed. “Dad, you don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like him.”

“It’s not that I don’t…like him.” Mason forced the words out of his mouth like a brick-shaped cow turd.

“Dad—”

“It’s not,” Mason insisted. “I mean…he is a lot older than you, and—”

“Dad—”

“I’m sorry,” he finally conceded. Dani stared up at him as if he’d slapped her. It nearly broke his heart that she might think he’d been an ass on purpose. “I screwed up.”

“Dad—”

“No. Let me finish. Please.”

She set the dish on the table and crossed her arms over her chest, her bottom lip snarled between her teeth. Christ, she looked so much like her mom when she did that.

“This whole thing with you and Clay…it threw me. I know I haven’t handled it well, and…well, I’m sorry.”

Silence. His little girl stared into his soul until he thought his chest would explode with regret.

“Okay.” She exhaled with a shrug.

“Really?”

Dani gave him a grudging nod.

“I’m forgiven?”

She lifted her chin and pretended to be reconsidering it, but when Mason stuck out a pouty bottom lip, her stone expression cracked into a reluctant smile. “Yes,” she said with a giggle. “You’re forgiven, and I’m sorry, too. I should have been more sensitive about your feelings.”

Mason pulled her into a hug. God help him, this was hard. She didn’t have a damn thing to be sorry for. “I’ll do better,” he promised. “I just need a little time to get used to the idea, I guess.”

Dani gave him a pitying grin. “I know, Dad. You just don’t know him like I do, which is why I can’t wait for you to spend more time with him this weekend.”

You don’t know him either. Wait… “What?”

She pushed from his arms with a coy laugh, giving him a reassuring pat on his arm that made him feel like one of the skittish horses he trained.

“Clay’s coming back this weekend?” he asked. “He was just here last week.”

“Nope.” Dani turned back toward the kitchen, but paused and glanced over her shoulder. “You’re going to Texas, right after he calls you tomorrow to invite you, Matt, and Daddy Grey for a visit, and y’all say yes. Because you love me.”

Dani walked out, taking all the air in the room with her. Texas? Why the hell did he have to go to Texas? And since when did she start saying y’all?

Gabby whirled in carrying the oversized roast, the sight snapping him out of it enough to suck in some much-needed oxygen. “Let me get that,” he snipped, taking the platter from her hands. “You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

Gabby drew back, propping her hands on her hips. “Why on earth not?”

“Did you know about this Texas thing?” he asked, ignoring her question as he set the roast on the dining table.

Her scowl eased. “Thank God she finally told you,” she said with a huge sigh of relief.

“Another secret?” he ground out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because she asked me not to,” Gabby said in a hushed whisper. “That’s why they call it a secret. And don’t even think about not going,” she warned. “Clay is trying to do the honorable thing. He wants to introduce you to his family and get to know you.”

The sharp taste of blood bloomed in Mason’s mouth as he gritted his teeth. If he wanted to do the honorable thing, he’d have asked them for permission to marry their only daughter, after she finished college.

“And this is important to Dani,” Gabby continued.

Mason bit his tongue and winced from the sharp pain.

Gabby gave him a chastising glare. “Mason, really, you’re as bad as Grey.”

“Are you going?” he asked, scrubbing a hand over his aching jaw.

He didn’t miss the way Gabby’s hand covered her belly as she tipped her head back and smiled up at him. “You know I get sick when I fly.” Mason stared at her hand. Yes, he knew, especially when she was pregnant. “Dani said this is supposed to be a guy-bonding kind of thing,” she insisted. “Besides, I’m planning a wedding, remember?” She splayed her fingers on his chest and pushed up to kiss his chin. “Next weekend is wedding dress weekend.”

“Wedding dress weekend?”

“Uh-huh.” Gabby grinned. “You know, when your daughter tries on wedding dresses and hopefully finds the perfect one?” She moved her hand from his chest to his shoulder, caressing the side of his neck with her soft fingertips. Her normally soothing touch only added to the chaos of sensations rioting through his insides, setting fires deep within his gut and making it hard to breathe.

What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be the cool, collected McLendon, but lately, he’d swear he was having a midlife crisis, or worse, turning into Grey. Nothing had shaken him like this since the day Gabby was shot when she first came to Falcon Ridge and he’d thought he’d lost her forever. And now he was supposed to leave her here, alone and possibly pregnant, to go to Texas?

“Mason,” she whispered, her lips so close to his neck her sweet breath tickled his skin. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Hey, Son?”

Mason startled at the sound of his dad’s deep voice. “Papa Joe,” he stammered, clearing the tension in his throat.

“We’re headed upstairs to take a gander at that plumbing problem Grey mentioned, before we start dinner. You comin’?”

Mason waved him off. “You go ahead.”

He watched Joe and his other dads follow Grey up the stairs.

“I need to get back and help your mom plate the rest of the food,” Gabby said when they were gone. “Want some aspirin for that headache?”

Mason nodded, forcing his lips into a tight smile as he watched her walk away.

“Hey, Dad.” Jonah walked in carrying a gallon of paint. “Where am I supposed to set this?”

“What’s it for?” he asked.

“It’s paint for the nursery,” Pryce, his new son-in-law, said as he and their wife, Chloe, walked in behind Jonah.

“Hi, sir.” Pryce reached out to shake Mason’s hand.

Mason clasped it and pulled him into a hug. Gabby had told them about the scene at the doctor’s. As far as he was concerned, if Pryce loved Jonah, his place in this family was irrevocable, Grunion or not. “I’ve told you before. You can call me Dad or Mason.”

“Yes, sir.” Pryce gave him a jerky nod. “I mean, Mason,” he said with enough hesitation to make Mason regret giving him the choice.

“Does Gran want this on the table?” Jonah turned and asked Chloe, the paint can dangling from his fingers.

“That’s what she said.” Chloe shrugged.

“Why?” Mason asked, clearing a place in the center of the table for Jonah to set the odd centerpiece.

“It was her idea to reveal the baby’s gender,” Chloe continued, walking over to give Mason a quick hug before she made her way around the long table to their usual seats. “Hazel and I stopped at the hardware store on the way home to pick out the color.”

“Hmm.” Mason stared at the can, wondering for the first time since Matt found that ad on the computer what color it might be. He’d been so damn distracted about Gabby, he’d almost forgotten the reason for tonight’s family dinner. Our first grandchild. How was that possible?

Carson ambled in, a beer in each hand and Connor behind him, who dropped two tablets into Mason’s hand. “Mom told me to give these to you.”

“And this,” Carson said, handing one of the beers to him. “Though, depending on what those are, I’d be careful about mixing it with that.”

Mason ignored him and tossed the aspirin to the back of his throat, then chased them down with several large gulps of cold brew. At this point, he was ready to get the horse tranq kit from his truck. If not him, someone was going to need it before this night was over.

The sound of the front door slamming echoed down the hallway, followed by their youngest son Cory’s shouted, “Sorry! The wind caught it!”

A few seconds later, Papa Daniel walked by on his way to the kitchen with a handful of grocery bags. Cory and Uncle Cade filed into the dining room a few seconds later.

“I’ll be right back,” Cory said. “Gotta take a shower and change.”

“Thanks for the ride over,” Uncle Cade shouted after him as Cory bounded up the stairs.

Mason took another sip of his beer to hide his worried expression. Their uncle’s shirt and jeans, three sizes too big now, hung on his thinning frame. His once sharp eyes were glassy and dulled, most likely from the medication that had become more necessary over the last month to manage his pain. The cancer was really beginning to take hold, making it more difficult for everyone to ignore as Cade had requested.

Despite his discomfort, Cade smiled at Hazel when she appeared in the doorway, who stopped short when she saw her brother. “Hey, sis.” He offered to take the covered dish in her hands, but she skirted around him and set it on the table.

“Hi.” Hazel’s voice was barely audible, her back stiff as she gave Cade the coldest damn hug Mason had ever seen.

Puzzled at her frigid response, Mason stared after her as she left the room without another word. His mom had a fiery temper, especially when his dads got ornery, but she’d seemed fine moments earlier. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her so uncomfortable. If anything, she was always the first to speak her mind when something didn’t quite sit right with her way of thinking. He made a mental note to ask Gabby about it later. Maybe their wife had another secret she hadn’t shared with him and his brothers.

Uncle Cade didn’t seem phased by the cold reception. He shrugged and turned to greet the rest of the room’s occupants, pinning Carson with a raised brow. “Well, if it isn’t Carson McCockblocker,” he said with a smirk.

“Ha! Tell me about it,” Jonah laughed, casting Pryce a sideways glance before he gave Carson a hard shove. “Seriously, dude. You need to learn how to knock.”

Connor howled with laughter. “He got you, too?”

“I swear to God.” Carson plunked his beer down on the table with a huff. “I’m getting every one of you new door locks for Christmas and a video tutorial on how to use them.”

Oh shit. “What did he do now?” Mason asked Uncle Cade, grateful for the distraction from his mom’s odd behavior, and Cade’s increasingly frail appearance.

“You don’t want to know,” Uncle Cade grumbled.

“Well, soon you won’t have to worry about me walking in on anyone,” Carson said, giving his twin a retaliatory shove.

Mason laughed, the feeling a refreshing change. “You walked in on Uncle Cade and—”

“Shh!” Carson covered his ears. “I don’t need a recap!” he insisted, his face flushing beet red as he turned to Connor. “Can we leave for the tour tomorrow?” he mumbled under his breath.

Mason furrowed his brows, setting his beer on the table. “You decided to go on the tour?”

Connor nodded.

“Yea!” Chloe squealed from the other end of the table. “I was hoping Breezy would say yes.”

Mason clamped down on his bottom lip. He wished he shared Chloe’s enthusiasm. Instead, a rush of anxiety flushed through his veins as he thought about the recent violent headlines, the terror attack on an international concert stage in Europe, and another closer to home. He understood he couldn’t give credence to those things, and that Connor and Carson needed to do the occasional gig for their fans. He was happy their music career was still going strong, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. And Gabby always worried about them when they were on the road for extended tours. Granted, it had been years since they’d done anything like this, and it was a shorter tour by comparison, but if Gabby was pregnant, this would only add to her stress and possible complications.

Breezy walked in and stopped short when she saw Connor and Carson. “You told them, didn’t you?” she asked, setting a basket of hot bread rolls in front of Uncle Cade, the fresh, buttery scent filling the dining room.

“You said we could.” Connor reached for her hand.

Breezy gave him an irritated nod as he pulled her to his side. “As long as you keep your promise to drive between venues.”

“Still hate flying, huh?” Jonah asked around a hot roll he’d rudely sniped from the basket, eliciting a scowl from both Pryce and Chloe. “What?” He shrugged innocently. “I’m hungry.”

“No flying,” Carson promised with a reassuring kiss to Breezy’s hand, but judging by the skeptical look on her face, Carson’s charm was less than convincing.

Mason watched her annoyance change to worry as she glanced at Uncle Cade, before offering Chloe a strained smile. “The first show isn’t until next summer, though, so don’t worry. I won’t miss seeing our first n—”

“Don’t say it!” Chloe, Jonah, and Pryce shouted in unison.

Breezy slapped a hand over her mouth with a giggle. “Oh my God, I almost spoiled it!”

“Nonsense,” Uncle Cade chuckled. “Everyone already knows they’re having a girl.”

“Uncle Cade!” Jonah admonished.

Mason sucked in a breath. “Is it?” He grinned as an image of Dani in pigtails and little pink cowgirl boots skipped through his memories. “Is it a girl?” The very idea of a granddaughter made his chest ache.

“I’m not telling,” Chloe insisted with an attempted pout, but even she couldn’t stop grinning.

“Don’t pay any attention to me,” Uncle Cade said with a lazy chuckle. “I’m talking out my ass. It was a fifty-fifty shot. What do I know?”

“We’re not confirming or denying anything,” Pryce said.

“That’s the motto I live by.” Cory bounded back into the room and collapsed into the seat beside Uncle Cade. “Admit nothing, deny everything, and demand proof.”

“I taught you well, kid,” Uncle Cade said with an encouraging nudge.

Matt popped his head into the room with a knock on the wall to get everyone’s attention. “Last call for drinks.”

“I’ll take a water, no ice,” Uncle Cade requested.

“I’ve got yours right here.” Papa Daniel maneuvered around Matt, two glasses of water in each hand.

“You missed your calling, babe,” Uncle Cade joked as he took a glass, winking as Daniel took his seat beside him.

Gabby returned with another plate of food as the others in the room completed their drink order.

“You want tea, darlin’?” Matt asked Gabby as she fiddled with the table arrangement.

“No. Just water, please. I’m trying to cut back on caffeine.”

Mason arched a brow, catching Matt’s gaze over Gabby’s shoulder. No flying. No caffeine. The clues were adding up, and it was looking more and more like Matt might be right.

“Joe! Nate! Jake! Dinner!” Hazel called up the stairs, and in a few hurried minutes, everyone was settled in their seats, their heads bowed in prayer.

“Amen,” Papa Joe said, the word echoing around the table.

Papa Jake rubbed his hands together and snatched a roll from the basket. “Good bread, good meat, good God, let’s eat!”

The room erupted in laughter. Some, including Gran, rolled their eyes at Papa Jake’s cheesy, jocular supplement to Papa Joe’s more formal rendition of grace. The laughter continued as they passed each dish around the table, and then the room fell silent for a brief respite as everyone dug into the food on their plates.

Sitting beside him, Grey elbowed Mason’s arm. “Papa Jake said it will be a piece of cake to rerun that water line.”

“Is he going to help you do it?”

“Na.” Grey stabbed at the piece of prime rib on his plate. “Told me everything I need to know. I’ll get it moved in the morning.”

Mason pursed his lips and gave him a skeptical scowl. Thousand-to-one odds they’d be taking showers at their parents’ house tomorrow.

“I still can’t believe you took out that wall,” Gabby protested from her seat on the other side of Grey.

“Why not, babe?” Grey dropped his fork and slid his hand over Gabby’s thigh. “I think I’ll get the extra-large tub,” he whispered with a chuckle. “What do ya think?”

Gabby laughed and pushed his hand away. “At this rate, I think you might as well build one of those tiny houses in the back yard.”

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Matt grumbled from Gabby’s right.

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Papa Joe chimed in. “Turn it into a bunk house, or a huntin’ cabin when the grandkids get older.”

“Keep it up and you’ll be livin’ in that tiny house,” Gran warned him under her breath.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Grey admitted.

“See what you started?” Gran elbowed Papa Joe, casting Gabby an apologetic glance.

His appetite lax in the wake of the day’s events, Mason picked at the food on his plate as a din of conversations ebbed and flowed around the table. He tried to follow along, but his jumbled thoughts kept him from contributing more than a nod or smile when appropriate.

He looked around the table at the three generations of family. He wanted to freeze the moment; capture this time in their lives and never let it go. He knew life didn’t work that way, but one day soon he would sit at this same table, look at the same faces, hear the same voices, yet everything would be different. One of them would be gone forever. He glanced at Uncle Cade. In a few short months, he would look around and see his grandchild, or maybe even a new child of his own, sitting in a highchair in Cade’s place.

“Dad, are you okay?”

Mason snapped his head up, giving Cory a tight grin before taking a sip of water. “I’m fine, son.” His head pounding, he pushed away from the table. “I just noticed we forgot to get something to open the paint can. I’ll fetch it from the kitchen.”

“Someone’s impatient,” Papa Jake teased him on his way out. “Haven’t seen him that excited since that Christmas we bought him and Matthew their first dirt bikes. What were you, then? Ten?”

“We were thirteen,” Matt corrected him. “And they weren’t dirt bikes. They were lame first-generation mopeds,” his brother railed.

Mason laughed at the memory he’d long forgotten as he opened the kitchen utility drawer and pulled out a flathead screwdriver, overhearing Papa Joe complaining that their mom wouldn’t allow them to buy the real dirt bikes.

“You remember those ridiculous helmets your mother made you wear?”

Unaware Papa Nate had followed him, Mason startled at the calm timbre of Papa Nate’s voice. The bottle of aspirin he’d been reaching for tumbled from the shelf onto the floor. Mason stooped to retrieve it. “Yeah,” he sighed, tapping another tablet into his palm. “You mean the ones we lost the day after Christmas?”

Papa Nate raised a brow, then opened the refrigerator door. “Lost, my ass,” he mumbled and grabbed a cold beer. “Joe and I found them in the back of the equipment shed, buried under a dozen bags of rock salt.”

Mason choked back a laugh, heat rushing to the tips of his ears. He’d forgotten about that, too. “And you didn’t tell Mom?”

“Nope.” Papa Nate twisted the cap off the bottle of beer and took a swig. “Those bikes didn’t have enough muscle to do too much damage. Here,” he said, handing Mason the beer. “You look like you need it more than I do.”

Mason took the bottle and washed down the additional aspirin, then handed the bottle back, but Papa Nate refused it.

“I only wanted a swallow. I can’t drink much these days.”

Mason could appreciate that. It had been a while since he’d had more than one himself. “Thanks.” He was headed back toward the dining room when Papa Nate snagged his arm. “What?” he asked when his dad didn’t say anything.

Nate hesitated a moment longer, but then let him go and leaned his hip against the counter. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” he asked, though he knew better. He might have been able to fool his other dads, but Papa Nate could always see right through him. “I just have a lot on my mind right now,” he finally said when his dad’s scrutinizing gaze grew too intense to ignore.

“I suppose we all do these days.” Nate crossed his arms over his chest, a sure sign he wasn’t going to let it drop.

Mason set his beer on the counter and mimicked his dad’s pose. “How did you do it?” he eventually asked with a shrug. Nate’s brows pinched together into a deep V, and Mason rambled on to clarify his question. “How did you, Joe and Jake get through…life.” He shook his head. That didn’t come out right. Finding the words to describe what was going on inside his head seemed impossible. “I mean, what did you do when we grew up? Moved out? Got married? Had our own kids?”

“Ah.” Papa Nate threw his head back with a chuckle. “That’s an easy one. We had a lot of sex.”

Ugh. Mason dropped his head, his headache flaring to nearly unbearable.

“Seriously,” Nate insisted with a flat tone. “We had a lot of years to catch up on.”

“I didn’t need to hear that,” Mason whined, regretting opening his big mouth, and swearing he’d never say that to his own kids. Ever.

Papa Nate clapped a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of the battle against the barrage of unwanted images. “There’s no trick to this part of life, son,” he said with his usual stern expression. “The future comes one day at a time. Most of those days are unremarkable. They come, they go, and we never think of them again. But, some of those days, we hurt.” He raised his head and met Mason’s gaze. “We hurt badly.”

Mason knew what he meant. Losing their first wife was at the top of those painful days. Uncle Cade’s passing would soon be another.

“However, there will be many more days that bring you joy,” Nate added, gazing over Mason’s shoulder, his voice holding a whimsical quality he rarely heard from any of his fathers. “Those days hold the memories that numb the pain of the bad ones, and make you grin every time you think of them, no matter how long ago they happened.”

His dad’s words conjured the memory of the first time he set Connor and Carson on the back of a horse. They’d been no older than two, far too young to ride on their own, but he could already tell they were naturals. Like Papa Nate had said, he grinned at the memory of their adolescent laughter. The wondrous looks on their innocent faces when they tangled their little fingers into the horse’s mane for the first time. That memory had been branded into his soul, knowing he’d passed his passion down to his sons. Even if they hadn’t followed in his footsteps, he’d known then that a part of him would forever be a part of them.

“And then, after a while,” Papa Nate continued, “all those good and bad days accumulate into years and decades. And one day when you least expect it, and you’re staring down at your first grandchild cooing in your sons’ arms, all those years come rushing back at you like a herd of wild mustangs and knock you flat on your ass.”

Mason snickered at the analogy. “That sounds about right.”

Papa Nate hooked his arm around his neck. “What you’re going through now, we’ve all been through, son. Many, many times. It happens more often the older you get, but that first time can be a real ball-buster. Nothing you can do but get back up, dust yourself off, and get ready for the next stampede.”

“So, you’re saying it only gets worse?” he asked with a helpless laugh. God, he hoped not. He didn’t think he’d make it through this time.

His dad turned to face him, the sly grin on his lips betraying the wise sincerity in his eyes. “I’m saying focus on today. Trust me, this time in your life will be one of those times that’ll make you smile years from now.”

Mason released a slow sigh of relief, though he wasn’t sure he believed him.

“I love ya, son.” Nate threw his arm around Mason’s neck again and pulled him into a rare hug.

Mason hugged him tight, afraid to let go, etching that moment into the list of good memories. “Love you, too, Dad.”

Several breaths and a million heartbeats passed between them before Papa Nate loosened his grip. He held Mason away from him, his big palms clamped over his shoulders. When Mason met Nate’s gaze, he could have sworn his eyes glistened with tears before he winked and said, “What do you say we go see about that paint, before Joe sneaks in here to swipe a piece of that cheesecake in the fridge and catches us bawling like goddamn pansies?”

“Yeah.” Mason chuckled and Papa Nate led them out of the kitchen. “Wait!” He turned back to retrieve his beer and the screwdriver he’d left sitting on the counter. “Almost forgot.”

“I was wondering if you were ever comin’ back,” Papa Joe bellowed when they returned to their seats. “Give me that screwdriver and let’s drive this herd home so we can get to dessert.”

“Hold your horses there, Cheesecake Cowboy.” Gran snatched the tool from Mason’s hand before Papa Joe could. “We’re not done with dinner yet.”

“C’mon, Gran,” Dani pleaded, pushing her plate back. “I can’t wait any longer.”

Matt, Grey, and Papa Jake followed suit with grumbles of their own.

“We’re gonna have leftovers either way,” Matt pointed out with an anxious gleam in his eye.

Mason followed Hazel’s gaze to Chloe at the far end of the table. “Can we?” Chloe asked, looking around the table with anticipation.

“It’s your choice, honey.” Hazel passed the screwdriver down to her, which she promptly passed to Pryce.

Pryce’s eyes widened in surprise. He nervously glanced around the table before he took the tool and slowly rose to his feet.

Gabby pushed from her seat, too, resting her hand on Mason’s shoulder. He could feel her anticipation as they all waited to see what color the can contained. Pink or blue? Granddaughter or grandson?

Pryce hesitated. Mason didn’t think the poor guy was breathing as he looked up at Gabby.

“Go ahead,” Gabby urged him with a smile so big Mason could hear it in her voice.

Pryce stammered, then fidgeted with the screwdriver, looking every bit as nervous as Mason felt inside. “I’m…” He paused and cleared his throat, then glanced over at Jonah. “Am I supposed to say something?”

“Open it!” the family shouted around the table with excitement.

Pryce startled. “Okay!” He laughed and reached for the can.

Mason watched as he pried at the metal lid until it finally popped free. Pryce set the screwdriver on the table and lifted the lid.

The silence in the room was deafening and continued several long seconds after the contents were revealed. Mason’s brows pinched together as he stared at the can, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

“Look, babe.” Carson nudged Breezy. “Your favorite color.”

“Yellow?” Cory finally asked what they were all wondering. “Is that a girl color or a boy color?”

“It’s both, or either,” Chloe said, smiling over at Breezy.

Confused, Mason looked over at his mother to see her eyes filled with pride, her lips turned up into a knowing grin.

Chloe turned and spoke to him and his brothers, her gaze darting between them and Gabby behind them. “I got to thinking while Gran and I were at the hardware store picking out colors,” she said nervously. “The nursery upstairs will be for all your grandchildren, girls, and hopefully boys, too,” she said and looked back at Breezy. “Our children won’t be the only grandchildren to share that room.”

Gabby’s grip tightened on Mason’s shoulder. He laid his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together when he felt her quiet tremble.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Chloe added with uncertainty.

“Mind?” Breezy squeaked as she pushed from the table. Chloe did the same, and they met behind Jonah in a tearful hug.

Sniffles echoed around the table. No one spoke openly of the issues Breezy and his oldest sons were having in the baby department, but they all knew how much Breezy struggled with losing hope. Mason had a feeling this tour they were going on was a way to reset, move forward. He didn’t know much about what that next step would be but hoped for their sakes that Chloe was right.

“Well,” Papa Joe harrumphed from the head of the table. “Are we ever gonna find out if this great-grandchild of ours is a girl or a boy, or do we get to move on to the cheesecake in the refrigerator with my name on it?”

“Josiah,” Gran warned.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” Chloe released Breezy and retrieved her phone from her purse.

After a few swipes and taps, Mason’s phone vibrated in his front pocket, the sound echoing around the table from the other phones in the room. He shifted in his seat, catching Gabby’s expectant grin above him as he pulled his phone from his pocket and flipped it over to the new message Chloe sent. A black and white photo of their unborn granddaughter appeared on the screen with a little pink bow superimposed on the top of her head.

“It’s a girl!” Matt jumped to his feet and pumped his fist in the air.

“What’d I tell ya?” Uncle Cade laughed.

Mason caught Cade’s gaze and the old buzzard winked. How the hell did he know? Maybe he hadn’t lost his edge quite yet after all.

As everyone gathered to congratulate Jonah, Chloe, and Pryce, Mason didn’t miss how Grey lingered in his seat, his attention fixed to his phone, a gobsmacked look on his face. When he finally did look up, Mason followed his gaze to Dani.

Grey eventually stood, catching Mason watching him. Something passed between them in that moment, a bizarre appreciation for one another rooted in both agony and joy. The twisted feeling didn’t make much sense, but for the first time in his life, Mason felt he fully understood his older brother.

Lively conversation buzzed around the room through the rest of dinner and dessert. Mason wasn’t sure what changed, but his appetite had returned with a vengeance. He was scarfing down a second piece of Gran’s cheesecake when his mother’s voice, curt and venomous, rose above the din.

“I don’t want to hear it!” She pounded her fist on the table, rattling the scattered dishes and snapping the room to attention.

Uncle Cade dropped his fork onto his plate. “It’s not as if I chose to die of cancer!” he snapped back at his sister.

“Cade.” Papa Daniel whispered a warning.

“No!” Gran threw off Papa Joe’s calming hand, her eyes ablaze with rage. “You chose not to fight!”

“Mom.” Grey tried to sooth her.

“I chose to die on my terms!” Uncle Cade snarled back, his face void of any emotion, which concerned Mason even more than his mother’s rage. “I will not—” Cade paused, then glanced around the table. His already pallid appearance seemed to wither even more as he slumped in his seat and picked up his fork. “Now is not the time, Hazel,” he said as he stared at his plate.

“Of course not!” Her frail hands shaking, Hazel tossed her napkin onto her plate and shoved to her feet, sending her chair clamoring against the wall behind her. “It’s never the time. We’re all supposed to just go on about our business, blind, deaf, and dumb to you wasting away, and ignore your stubborn, heartless selfishness. Well, I won’t do it anymore,” she declared. “I can’t!”

The entire family sat motionless and slack-jawed as she stormed out of the room, the front door slamming closed behind her.

“She’s gonna regret that in the mornin’,” Papa Jake said with a remorseful sigh.

Papa Joe and Gabby slid out of their seats at the same time. “I’ll see to her,” Papa Joe insisted, motioning for Gabby to sit back down.

“No. I’ll go.” Uncle Cade wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin onto his plate.

“Maybe you should give her some time,” Daniel suggested.

Uncle Cade ignored Daniel’s advice and moved to stand, but Papa Nate laid a staying hand on his arm. “She’s grieving,” he said, the glare in his eyes teetering between a warning and a plea.

A pained sigh rushed from Uncle Cade’s lips as he pushed from his seat. “I know.” His head bowed, his shoulders slumped, he paced toward the door, but paused with his back still to the room. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Chloe, then at Jonah and Pryce before he shuffled out of the room and down the hall without another word.