But if they took Chase’s truck, they’d have to take Chase. She’d only brought him now to keep an eye on him. Nichole parked the truck and waved to her grandparents, who were stepping off the porch that wrapped around their ranch-style home.
Wesley launched himself out of the car and raced to hug his great-grandparents. “Great-granddad, I promised Chase he could meet Buckeye.”
“I don’t believe I ever met Buckeye.” Chase reached out to shake her Grandpa Harland’s hand.
“Clover’s foal. You’ll remember her.” Her grandfather slapped his hand on Chase’s back in an open hug he only ever reserved for those he liked. “Good to see you, son.”
Grandma Marie embraced Chase, then Nichole. “The boys can check on Buckeye while we put out supper.”
Supper? Nichole had only planned to drop off Wesley, stay long enough for a glass of fresh lemonade and maybe a cookie or two. She hadn’t mentioned supper to Chase. Supper had long been her grandparents’ main and longest meal of the day. Supper was an occasion, inviting family and guests to settle in around the dining room table, reminisce and bond. Nichole released her grandmother. “We can’t...”
“We can’t eat too much at supper or we won’t have room for apple pie.” Chase set his hand on Nichole’s lower back. His voice, dynamic and excited, overrode any pain he might be feeling. “I heard a rumor about apple pie.”
Wesley laughed. “It’s not a rumor.”
“If this apple pie has two scoops of homemade vanilla ice cream on each slice, then it sure is real.” Grandpa Harland high-fived Wesley.
“The pie is already in the oven.” Her grandmother brushed at the water stain on Chase’s shirt. “We’ve got warmer clothes inside the house. I’ll get you a dry shirt.”
“You always did look after me.” Chase pressed a kiss to her grandmother’s sun-stained forehead. “Any chance we can have dessert before supper?”
“The answer is still no.” Her grandmother touched Chase’s cheek and shook her head, loosening several pure white curls from her bun. “You always did like to live in reverse.”
Chase laughed, released her and walked to the stables with Grandpa Harland and Wesley.
Nichole wrapped her arm around her grandmother’s waist, both for comfort and support. The pair strolled back to the house. “What did you mean that Chase likes to live in reverse?”
“Your grandfather always said Chase jumped first, then looked for a good place to land.”
“Unlike me.” Nichole opened the front door for her grandmother.
Her grandmother chuckled and patted Nichole’s shoulder. “You always looked and looked. Then you’d look again. You spent so much time looking, you never jumped.”
“Until the one day I jumped.” And ended up pregnant, alone and heartbroken. She followed her grandmother into the open kitchen and stared at the feast spread over every counter. Nichole hadn’t confirmed Chase would be coming. “This looks like Thanksgiving.” For the neighbors and their families.
“I knew you’d bring Chase.” Her grandmother checked a pot on the stove.
Nichole hadn’t known until right before they’d left. And she’d only forced Chase to ride along to rest his injured shoulder. At least she hadn’t jumped yet with Chase. Hadn’t let her heart float too long in those deceptive clouds.
Her grandmother tapped a spoon against a saucepan. “You do know you ended up with the best gift ever—your son—when you took that leap.”
Nichole opened the silverware drawer, took out forks and knives and stepped into the routine as familiar and comfortable as a worn pair of jeans. She’d always set the table while her grandmother cooked and her grandfather finished in the barn. Normal bolstered her. There was strength in the typical. In the known. “I want Wesley to be proud of me.”
“We all are.” Her grandmother squeezed Nichole’s arm, her warm gaze full of sunshine and love.
“I feel like I’m getting this parent thing wrong most days. And making it up the other days.” Now she’d allowed Wesley and Chase to bond. Surely that was a mistake. She should’ve dropped Chase at his house like he’d requested. But she’d sensed the loneliness inside him and only wanted him not to hurt anymore.
“You’re too busy second-guessing yourself. You’re missing all you’ve done right.” Her grandmother retied her apron as if to support her insight.
“Wesley is a great kid.” Nichole added plates and napkins to the table. “He’s funny, smart and works hard.”
“You’ve taught him that.” Her grandmother handed her a serving bowl of creamed corn.
“I want to protect him.” From Chase. From getting hurt. From suffering. And she wanted to protect herself. But she worried she might already be too late.
Her grandmother shuffled back to the stove. “Sometimes the best we can do is love them with all we’ve got.”
“And when they get hurt?” Nichole picked up the salad bowl.
“We love them that much harder.”
Nichole clutched the stainless steel bowl against her stomach. “Is that enough?”
“Love is always enough.” Her grandmother smiled and tipped her head toward the wide windows.
Her love hadn’t been enough before. Nichole watched the trio crossing the yard from the stables. Wesley chattered between her grandfather and Chase. Both men laughed and added their own commentary to Wesley’s story. Three generations together. Wesley could learn from both her grandfather and Chase. Things she couldn’t teach her son. “Love is also a big risk.”
“Some risks are worth taking.” Her grandmother opened the stove and poked at her apple pie.
Nichole turned her back on the window and everything she was too scared to want. “But if I risk and take the leap, I might land wrong.”
“Or you might land exactly where you’re meant to be.” Her grandmother carried a large roasted turkey to the table.
How could she trust that? She’d landed wrong before.
Wesley burst through the back door and announced, “Grandpa Harland says we can ride tomorrow.”
“In the corral only,” Nichole cautioned.
“He’s ready for more.” Her grandfather pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Nichole shared a look with her grandmother and admitted,
