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Hunter grinned at his brother-in-law and then the neat rows of hard taco shells beneath the plastic wrap. “You ready for this?”
“I suppose,” Cord said, though he smiled. “We won’t stay all the way until midnight. I’m far too old for that.”
Hunter laughed and stepped out of the way so Molly and Jane could work at the counter. “I’m older than you, Cord.”
“Still,” he said.
“Stay as long as you want,” Hunter said. “Leave whenever. That’s the rule, right, sweetheart?”
“Yep,” Molly said. “People can do whatever they want.” She turned toward Hunter. “Oh, Hunt, honey, can you go hang all the streamers from the front porch? Ryder and I got home late from driving practice, and I didn’t have time.”
“Where’s Ryder?” Hunter asked, hoping he could get some help with the pink, green, blue, and gold streamers his wife wanted hung.
“He’s doing the feeding in the family barn,” Molly said.
“Right.” Hunter grabbed his coat from the front closet on his way toward the porch, hoping his hands wouldn’t freeze without gloves. The farmhouse faced south, which was a real blessing in the winter, but the sun had already started to set.
As he stepped out onto the porch, laughter met his ears and a black truck pulled in down the fence. Perfect. Help.
He first focused on the two men coming up the front steps. “Tucker,” Hunter said. “Help me with the streamers, would you?”
“Sure.” He transferred the plastic grocery sacks in his hands to Tarr’s, and the other cowboy nodded as he went by.
“What did you bring?” Hunter asked.
“Cookie bites and brownie bites for the sundae bar,” Tucker said. He hadn’t been laughing—that had been Tarr—and Hunter peered at his younger brother.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Tuck averted his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with me.” He moved over to the table where Molly had laid the streamers. “These?”
“Yeah.” Hunter didn’t move to pull over a chair so he could hang them from the hooks he’d installed into the ceiling of the roof many, many years ago. With his own father. A powerful shove barreled through his chest, because his parents didn’t live in Ivory Peaks anymore.
They’d moved to Coral Canyon at the beginning of the summer, into a more accessible house, and they’d taken everything from the farmhouse here this past fall. The drive between Colorado and Wyoming wasn’t pleasant in the winter, depending on the weather, and Momma and Daddy had chosen to stay in Coral Canyon with all of Daddy’s brothers. They were ringing in the New Year together, and that thought made Hunt smile.
“Am I doing this?” Tuck asked, his dark eyes firing with displeasure. “Or are you helping?”
“I’m helping,” Hunter said. “But only if you tell me what’s eatin’ at you.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” He rolled his eyes, and that was so unlike Tucker that Hunter once again froze.
Tuck pulled out the first streamer—a long, curly, shiny pink decoration that Hunt knew his girls would love. He looked over to Hunter, who stared back at him. “What?”
“What? You just bit my head off for no reason.”
Tuck seemed to come to himself, and he ducked his head and hid his face behind his cowboy hat. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just not feeling very much like partying tonight.”
“Why not? You and Tarr are always the life of the party.” Hunter pulled over a chair and got on it. He took the streamer from Tucker and attached it to the hook.
“I just—I—Bobbie Jo broke up with her boyfriend, and we had this weird…thing the other night.” Tucker handed him another streamer, and Hunt put the silver one with the pink one before getting down to move the chair.
“A weird thing,” he said, recalling his brother’s crush on the blonde cowgirl who worked this farm too. Tuck had asked her out relentlessly, teased her about her boyfriend in Oklahoma being fake, and more. “And she’s going to be at the party.”
“Yeah,” Tuck said as he lifted up a blue streamer.
“Howdy, boys.”
Hunt looked down at Mike and Gerty as they came up the steps, with their baby boy in Mike’s arms and Gerty’s filled with an oversized aluminum foil tray. “Howdy, Hammonds,” he said cheerfully.
