74 "thats my daddy"

A few days later, the ranch felt quieter—like it always did after something big passed through. The tents were gone. The music was just a memory. Dust settled back into its grooves like it had never been disturbed.

I led Patsy down toward the lower pasture just after breakfast. The air was cool, the kind that smelled like hay and morning dew, and Patsy skipped ahead with that restless excitement kids carried when they sensed something special waiting."There," Willie said softly, stopping at the fence. A familiar chestnut head lifted from the grass.

Bird.

My breath caught, just for a second. Time hadn't taken anything from her—still proud, still gentle-eyed. Bird walked toward the fence like she knew exactly who was standing there, ears flicking forward, a low nicker rumbling from her chest."That's her?" Patsy asked, gripping the fence rail. "That's Bird," i said, voice thick. "She was your cousins... before he was old enough to keep her."Bird pressed her nose into my chest the second i leaned over the fence. I laughed quietly, tears burning behind my eyes as i buried my face into Bird's mane."I missed you," she whispered.Patsy watched, wide-eyed."She knows you," Patsy said in awe."Yeah," I nodded. "She always did."A heavier presence shifted behind us. Walker.He leaned against the fence a few feet away, arms crossed, watching—not intruding. When Bird lifted her head and flicked her ears toward him, he gave a low whistle."Well I'll be damned," he muttered. "She's still got manners."I glanced at him. "You remember before she was a mama?""Hard to forget a horse that near took my shoulder off," he said with a faint smirk.That made Patsy giggle.I then pointed toward the far end of the pasture where a massive, dark-coated horse stood watching them, muscles rippling under his skin as he moved."And that," Willie said, "is Cash. Bird's boy."Patsy's mouth fell open. "He's huge.""He grew into himself," Walker said quietly, stepping closer. "Strong one.""Is he good?" I asked. Walker nodded as he whistled him over. "Amazing. I think you could whip him in the butt and still wouldn't be bothered" Cash took a few cautious steps forward, curiosity winning out. Patsy shrank back instinctively, pressing against walkers leg.Walker noticed immediately.He crouched down beside her, lowering himself to her level. "Hey," he said gently. "You don't gotta be scared. He won't come any closer unless you ask him to."Patsy studied Walker's face. His voice was calm. Steady. Safe."Promise?" she asked."Promise," he said, holding up his pinky like it was sacred law.She hooked hers around it.Walker slowly reached out, palm open, showing her how to hold her hand just right. "Let him smell you first."Patsy mimicked him, tongue sticking out in concentration.Cash lowered his head, warm breath puffing against her fingers.Her eyes lit up."He likes me!" she squealed.Walker smiled—really smiled this time. Not the crooked, guarded one he wore for the world. This one was soft. Unprotected.I didn't stop watching. Felt it hit me square in the chest.Patsy glanced up at him then. Studied his face longer than she ever had before. His eyes. His nose. The way his smile tilted just like hers did when she was thinking too hard."You look like me," she said suddenly.Walker froze. He swallowed. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I kinda do."Patsy tilted her head. "Mama... is he my daddy?"Willie stepped closer, placing a hand on Patsy's shoulder. "You don't have to figure it all out at once, baby."Walker exhaled, slow and careful, like he was holding something fragile in his hands without ever touching it. But Patsy reached for him anyway. She slipped her little hand into his.And Walker didn't pull away.From that moment on, she didn't leave his side. She asked him questions—endless ones. About horses. About guitars. About why his voice sounded like gravel and honey mixed together. She laughed at his dry comments, leaned into him like she belonged there.And Walker... he let her.I watched it all from the fence line, heart aching and full all at once.

I watched Patsy trail beside Walker like she'd done it her whole life. Her hand fit in his without thinking about it, like muscle memory she'd never been allowed to use before. That alone did something to my chest I wasn't ready to unpack.

Out of nowhere, she tipped her head back and asked him, real casual,"What're you havin' for supper?"

Walker slowed a step, clearly caught off guard. He glanced down at her, then up at me like he was checking for a trick.

"For supper?" he repeated.

She nodded seriously, like this was important business.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Whatever Gator makes, I eat."

She thought about that for a second, then said, "Can I eat with you?"

Walker stopped walking.

He looked at me then—really looked at me—like he didn't want to mess this up. Like he was afraid to assume he was allowed.

"The bunkhouse ain't exactly... kid-friendly," he said carefully. "That okay with you?"

I shrugged, softer than I felt. "Why not. Just for tonight."

Something eased in his shoulders at that.

So that's how I found myself walking into the bunkhouse for the first time in years, Patsy practically skipping beside Walker while I followed a few steps behind, taking it all in. The smell hit first—meat, coffee, bread. Loud voices. Laughter. Boots on wood floors.

Every head turned.

Ryan was the first to speak. "Well I'll be damned."

Colby grinned like Christmas came early. "Who's the kid?"

Before I could answer, Patsy did. She pointed at Walker like she was proud of him."That's my daddy."

The room went dead quiet for half a second.

Teeter let out a loud, "Hell yeah," from the table, slapping her palm down. "About time."

Lloyd smiled gently, the kind that reaches his eyes. "You hungry, sweetheart?"

Patsy nodded hard.

Gator appeared like magic, already pulling out another plate. "Grab a seat, little lady."

Walker guided her to the table, pulling a chair out for her like it was the most natural thing in the world. I stood there awkwardly until Ryan nudged one out for me with his boot.

"Sit, Willie," he said. "Ain't bitin' tonight."

Dinner was simple. Roast beef. Potatoes. Bread Patsy declared "the best ever." She talked the entire time—about Bird, about Cash, about the music at the big party, about how John danced funny. The men listened. Really listened. Even Ethan leaned in, smiling like he didn't realize he was doing it.

Walker barely ate. He kept watching her instead, like if he blinked too long she might choke. At one point Patsy leaned over and whispered loudly, "Daddy, you're messy," pointing at gravy on his chin.The table erupted.Walker laughed—actually laughed—and wiped his face with his sleeve, unashamed. I had to look down at my plate because my eyes burned.

Walker hadn't said much once we all sat down, but every now and then I'd look up from Patsy's plate or my own and catch his eyes on me. Not quick glances. Not accidental. The kind that lingered—slow, heavy, full of things left unsaid. Like he was seeing me for the first time and every time all at once. Like he couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that I was there... and that she was there... and that we'd made something this real together.

It wasn't dirty.It wasn't reckless.It was deep. Possessive in a quiet way. Almost reverent.

Like love mixed with awe.

Ryan noticed before anyone else. He leaned back in his chair and smirked."You gonna eat, or you just plannin' on starin' holes through Willie all night?"

Walker didn't even flinch. Just took a sip of his beer and said calmly,"I'm eatin'."Teeter barked a laugh. "Bullshit. Man looks like he just found religion."Colby pointed his fork at Patsy. "She yours?"Walker nodded once. "Yeah."Colby's grin softened. "Well hell. That explains a lot."Patsy looked around the table, eyes wide. "Why does everyone keep starin' at my daddy?"Lloyd chuckled. "'Cause he's been missin' a long time, sweetheart."She seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to her potatoes.At one point Walker leaned closer to me, voice low so only I could hear."She's perfect."My throat tightened. "She really is."His knee brushed mine under the table—barely there—but it sent a quiet shiver up my spine. His eyes met mine again, darker now, softer too. Not just desire. Pride. Gratitude. Regret. Hope."All that time," he said quietly, "and I didn't even know what I was missin'."I swallowed. "Neither did I."Gator clapped his hands once from the stove. "Alright, that's enough feelin's for one meal. Anyone wants seconds, speak now."Patsy raised her hand immediately. "Me."Walker smiled at her, then looked back at me—slow, deliberate."You good?" he asked.I nodded, even though my chest felt too full for just air."Yeah," I said softly. "I am."And the way he looked at me then—like I was home, like we were something sacred he hadn't known he'd lost—made it hard to remember a time before that table, before that room, before the three of us existed at all.

I knew she was done before she even said it.

Patsy had been dancing between the couches, spinning until she got dizzy, then laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. She played cards with the guys like she'd been doing it her whole life—Ryan teaching her to cheat, Teeter loudly accusing her of it, Lloyd pretending not to notice while absolutely noticing. At some point she climbed up onto the couch, curled in on herself, and just... shut off.Out cold.Her little mouth was open just a bit, curls stuck to her cheek, one tiny hand still clutching a card."She looks like she got into the whiskey," Colby joked.Walker didn't laugh. He just stood, quiet and careful, and laid a blanket over her like she was made of glass. He tucked it under her chin, slow and sure, then stood there for a second longer than necessary—just watching her breathe.My chest ached. Again. He turned to me then, softer. "You want a drink?"I hesitated. Then nodded. "Yeah. One."He poured it himself, not strong, not weak. Just right. We leaned against the table for a moment, watching the bunkhouse dissolve into chaos—Teeter yelling, Ryan laughing too loud, someone slamming dominoes like it was a personal attack.Walker pulled out a chair and sat, then looked up at me with that look."C'mere."I didn't even think about it. I climbed onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it was. I Draped my arm over his shoulder, settled against his chest. He smelled like beer, leather, and something familiar enough to make my throat tight.His hand rested at my hips, warm and steady. Not demanding. Just there.We sat like that while the world carried on around us.I watched his face when he laughed—really laughed—head tipping back just a bit, eyes crinkling at the corners. Then I watched the way his expression changed when someone said something stupid, that quick frown pulling between his brows like he was born serious and laughter was something he allowed himself occasionally.A piece of hair fell into his eyes. Without thinking, I reached up and brushed it away.He stilled.Then his hand squeezed my hips—gentle, grounding, like he was reminding himself I was real."You keep lookin' at me like that," he murmured, "' you're gonna end up pregnant again."I smiled softly after letting out a good laugh. "You watch it!" I playfully smacked his chest. He studied my face for a long moment. I couldn't help but smile at his silence. But the. Silence broke "You're beautiful...." He said with his eyes gazing upon me. I didn't plan it.That's the truth.One second I was watching his mouth curve into a crooked smile at something Ryan said, the next I was turning his face toward mine. My hand slid up his jaw, thumb brushing over stubble, feeling the way he went still beneath my touch."You hear me? Willie—" he started.I kissed him before he could finish.Not soft. Not hesitant.I kissed him like I'd been holding my breath for years and finally remembered how to breathe.His body reacted instantly—like a match struck. He froze for half a heartbeat, shock maybe, or disbelief, and then his arms came up around me, one hand sliding into my hair, the other firm at my waist. He kissed me back deeper, slower, like he was savoring something he thought he'd lost.The world disappeared.The bunkhouse noise faded to nothing but heat and pulse and the way his mouth moved against mine like he was relearning me. Like he was angry at time itself for keeping us apart. I felt it in the way he kissed—fierce, hungry, full of emotion he didn't have words for.When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine. His breathing was uneven. His eyes were dark, burning, locked onto me like I was the only thing in the room."Jesus," he murmured, voice rough. "You do that again, I ain't responsible for myself."I smiled, soft but unafraid. "Good."His grip tightened, protective and Devoted.

And in that moment, sitting on his lap in the middle of chaos, with our daughter asleep just feet away, I saw it clear as day in his eyes.

He wasn't just in love with me.

He was on fire. We were on fire. .