Page 19 of Tessa and Nash

That’s who Nash McCoy has always been.

So why does this feel less like a lie and more like a complication?

I snap the notebook shut and step back into the flow of people, listening carefully now.

If Nash McCoy is engaged, Buckhorn will tell me soon enough.

And if he isn’t?

Then I have a feeling this is about to get very interesting.

CHAPTER FIVE

Nash

January 3rd

Dinner has never been this quiet.

Not the comfortable kind, either. Not the end of a long day hush where everyone’s too tired to talk. This is the sharp kind. The kind that presses in on your ears and makes you acutely aware of every scrape of a fork, every swallow, every breath you didn’t mean to take so loud.

We’re all here. Everyone.

Mom sits at the head of the table, back straight, hands folded, bracing for testimony. Boone’s to her right, solid as ever, shoulder brushing Rose’s. Rose is helping Ellie cut her chicken into neat little pieces while keeping one eye on Wyatt, who’s determined to launch peas across the table.

Dallas sits across from me, posture relaxed, eyes anything but. Faith’s beside him, nudging Lila to eat her carrots and shooting me looks that bounce between concern and barely contained curiosity.

Rusty lies under the table, directly at my feet, where he’s strategically positioned himself for maximum crumb interception. He sighs loudly. Even he can feel the tension.

They weren’t at the meeting.

I made sure of that.

But Buckhorn doesn’t wait for official announcements.

“So,” Mom says at last, setting her fork down with a little click. “When were you planning on telling us you were engaged?”

There it is.

My stomach drops as if I missed a step on the stairs.

I shift in my chair, the wood creaking under me, announcing my discomfort. “It all happened kind of fast.”

That’s not a lie. Just not the whole truth.

Faith raises an eyebrow. “Fast as in… today fast?”

Rose looks up, genuinely surprised. “You weren’t seeing anyone at Christmas.”

Ellie pauses mid-bite. “Uncle Nash, are you getting married?”

Wyatt bangs his spoon against the table, delighted by the word ‘married’, even if he has no idea what it means.

Rusty thumps his tail once, hopeful.

My chest tightens. This is not how I wanted them to find out. Or talk about it. Or look at me as if I’ve skipped several chapters of my own life.

“Who is she?” Mom asks.