The Montana sun had settled high above the Dutton ranch, the heat shimmering over the fields where the cowhands worked. Dust clung to their boots, sweat trickled under their hats, and the hum of cattle broke the otherwise steady rhythm of leather reins and hooves. Colby was leaning against a fence post when he spotted her truck bouncing down the dirt path. His grin spread before the engine even cut.
“You better not be empty-handed,” he called, hands on his hips in exaggerated demand.
She stepped out, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, carrying a brown paper bag in one arm like it was a gift straight from the heavens. “Would I really come all this way without bringing my man some food?”
“Your man?” Colby shot back, squinting against the sunlight but letting his dimples show. “Pretty sure you’re wearing John’s ring last time I checked.”
She smirked, pulling out the containers. “Lucky for you, I’m a generous woman. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cornbread—just like you like it.”
Colby let out a groan so dramatic it made Ryan shake his head and mutter, “Man’s whipped by chicken.” Walker strummed a lazy chord on his guitar from the rail, adding, “By chicken—or by her. Hard to tell which.”
Colby ignored them, already stealing a piece of cornbread and taking a bite so big she swatted his shoulder. “Slow down! You’re supposed to share.”
“Not when it’s this good,” he mumbled, mouth full. “Besides, godfathers gotta eat.”
At that, the other ranchers perked up, snickering. “Godfather?” Rip asked, narrowing his eyes like he couldn’t decide if Colby was joking.
She reached out, resting a hand on Colby’s arm with casual affection. “That’s right. We asked him to be godfather.”
Kayce, perched on the fence rail, let out a low whistle. “Damn, Colby. Didn’t think you’d last long enough for John to let you stick around—let alone make you family.”
John had walked up in time to hear, his expression unreadable as usual. He took the cornbread right out of Colby’s hand and bit into it without asking. Colby froze like a man about to be sentenced.
But John only chewed, slow and deliberate, then shrugged. “He’s earned it.”
That simple, gravelly declaration carried more weight than any sermon. The teasing died down, and Colby’s eyes went wide with pride before he quickly masked it under bravado. “Damn right I have. Y’all just jealous Mama here trusts me with her cornbread and her baby.”
The girlfriend laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Don’t push your luck.”
Still, the moment was tender—Colby reaching down to squeeze her hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles, his expression softened in a way he rarely showed in front of the others.
Then Bear, their little boy, came running from the porch, chocolate smudged on his face. “Uncle Colby! You gotta come see my dinosaur!”
Colby squatted down, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Dinosaur, huh? Don’t tell me it’s bigger than the T-Rex we caught last week.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “You caught a T-Rex?!”
Colby winked, deadpan. “Yup. Took all the mashed potatoes in Montana to lure him out.”
The yard erupted in laughter—Walker strumming an approving tune, Ryan shaking his head, Rip muttering “idiot” under his breath but with the ghost of a grin.
She watched Colby hoist Bear up with one arm, balancing him easily while sneaking another piece of fried chicken with the other. There was a light in Colby’s face—equal parts mischief, devotion, and that hopeless affection he’d never tried to hide.
John’s gaze lingered on them, then on her. He didn’t speak, but there was something settled in his silence, something that said he knew. Knew that Colby, for all his swagger and jokes, wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe, finally, John was alright with that.