Chapter THIRTEEN-CASEY

The sun’s still climbing, warm and golden through the kitchen windows, but it’s not the heat that’s got my palms sweating.

It’s him.

Zeke.

I see him through the glass, waiting out near the fence line with a horse already saddled and the full attention of the morning around him.

It’s like nature pauses for him—birds quiet, wind softer.

Just him and that steady, magnetic stillness.

I already called the home where Gramps is situated and was told he’s having a good day. He’s resting well and perfectly pleasant, which was good considering his recent dementia diagnosis.

That bastard of an illness was heartbreaking, but Gramps is still strong, and I promise myself I’ll visit him soon.

I’m seconds from walking out the door when Avery slides in beside me, a cup of herbal tea in one hand, the other resting on her swollen belly, and that all-knowing glint in her eye.