Page 9 of The Spice Is Nice

“Brax is posted on duty for the night. He has your number and can text if anything happens.” Knox wouldn’t give this up.

“Why are you suddenly so eager to go to this thing? When you first heard about it, you laughed. Said you didn’t need Ivy’s help finding a woman.”

Heshrugged it off. “Maybe I’m curious to see what Ivy has cookin’ for this event. And you know, we should support her efforts in general.”

“Daisy gonna be there?” I arched a brow.

“So I’ve heard.” Another shrug, voice noncommittal.

“What do you think, Silver? Should I stay or go?” I reached up and petted his nose. He seemed to nod and even smiled, parting his lips slightly and baring his teeth. “Yeah? You’re right. I wouldn’t mind seeing Ivy again.”

“What’s that?” Knox didn’t quite catch the tail end of my talk with the horse.

“I said I’ll go and be your wingman.” And I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

I saton the edge of my bunk in the cabin I shared with Knox and stared at the date on my phone. I’d showered and dressed, almost ready to leave for the Sapphire. My phone buzzed. The group chat with my sisters lit up.

Maisy: Brooks and I are hosting Christmas Eve this year. Mom already called dibs on the ham. Chelsea, you’re doing your potatoes. I’m making Colt’s favorite—marshmallow salad.

Chelsea: Will he answer?

Maisy: COLT. You are coming home for Christmas, right?

Chelsea: Honestly, forget Christmas, Colt. Just come home for GOOD. Rex has become buddies with the fire chief in Holly Creek. They’re hiring.

Maisy: Or work at the diner. Mom won’t say it, but she’s getting older. The diner is too much for her alone.

Chelsea: Dad would want you here with us.

And there it was. The one-two they’d perfected over the past year. Maisy with the warmth, Chelsea with the guilt, and both of them landing on Dad like it was a coordinated strike. Which it was.

My sisters were brilliant, with careers they loved. And they’d both also married well to men with money and probably didn’t have to worry about anything the rest of their lives. They were sweet mothers, too, and they absolutely could not understand why their little brother was shoveling horse manure on a ranch in Montana instead of coming home.

They weren’t wrong. My mother was aging and probably did need help at her diner. I had only visited a couple of times since I joined the Navy. Our father’s grave at Holly Creek Memorial sat on a hill overlooking the town he’d served as a doctor for thirty years, and the last time I’d visited, I’d spent an hour pulling weeds in the rain.

I should go back. I’d always known that I would. But every time I tried to picture myself behind the counter of my mother’s diner, smiling at the same people from the small town day in and day out, my chest locked up. There, I was only known as Dr. Calhoun’s boy. Like I’d spend therest of my life standing in the shadow of a man everyone loved and measuring myself against the bar he and my sisters set so high I could never reach.

Montana didn’t have that shadow. Just the big blue sky and work and exhaustion at the end of the day that came from using your body so hard your mind finally shut up. It had Ash, who never asked anything more of me than to parlay being a good soldier into being a good ranch hand. It had the ranch and the crew and Eldon’s terrible coffee and Sunday church on the hill.

It also had Ivy Wylde, but I would not think about her right now.

My sisters deserved a response. I knew that. I also knew I needed to take care of one thing I came here to do. Put the past—the accident on the ship—behind me and move on.

Could I do that by Christmas? I could picture walking into Flora’s Diner to surprise Mom, and her face lighting up. The guilt hit me hard, especially on this day of all days.

I typed back a single response.

Colt: I’ll be there for Christmas.

Maisy sent back a string of heart emojis. Chelsea sent back a photo of her holding one of her kids and crying.I locked the phone and set it face down on the mattress. One fight at a time. Tonight, the only obligation I had was showing up at the Sapphire Saloon and pretending I gave a damn about Cowboy Night. For both Knox’s and Ivy’s sake.

Knox appeared in the doorway, showered and reeking of aftershave, his ironed snap-button shirt tucked into jeansso new they still had the crease, and his long hair pulled up in a man bun. The guys teased him now and then about the length of it, but he said the military forced him to keep it short and he’d vowed never again. “You coming or not? Jake is driving.” The newest guy at the ranch had a double-cab truck.

“Yep.” I stood, grabbed my hat, and waved it in front of my nose. “A little heavy-handed with the cologne, per usual.”

“Women like it.” He grinned and pointed the brim of his hat at me.

“Does Daisy?”