The Walker house had that classic Texan ranch air: high ceilings with exposed wooden beams, walls adorned with family photos and rodeo trophies, and a couple of guitars resting against the stone fireplace. A handwoven rug covered part of the floor, inviting them inside.
—Come in, this is your home —announced Walker in a firm but kind voice.
The group moved together toward the spacious living room. There, the fireplace crackled softly.
Everyone took a seat: Blake beside Emily, laughing as Stella bombarded her with questions; Auggie settled near Ethan, studying him with curiosity; and Cordell, still standing, kept a watchful eye like a good host before finally sitting down.
—Stella, this is for you —said Blake with a conspiratorial smile, pulling an elegant little box from her suitcase and placing it on the table.
The girl's eyes widened in surprise as she lifted the lid: inside was a youthful makeup set in warm neutral tones, with a small pocket mirror and a couple of cowboy-style accessories, including a Tiffany bracelet.
—Oh my God! —exclaimed Stella, covering her mouth before letting out an excited giggle—. It's beautiful, Aunt Blake.
—I thought you were already at that age where you want to try these things… but without going overboard. —Blake winked at her.
Stella hugged her immediately, with the enthusiasm of someone who truly appreciated it.
—And for you, Auggie… —continued Blake, turning to the boy with another knowing smile—. Your gift doesn't fit in the suitcase, so it'll arrive tomorrow. I know how much you love Brad Paisley… so I got you a guitar signed by him.
Auggie's eyes went wide in disbelief. He covered his mouth to hold back a shout, but the excitement burst out in a nervous laugh.
—Seriously? A Brad Paisley guitar! —he exclaimed, almost trembling.
Blake laughed, delighted by his reaction, and affectionately ruffled his hair.—Seriously. So start practicing, because when I come back, I want to hear you play it.
The boy couldn't hold back any longer and wrapped her in a clumsy but sincere hug.
—Thank you, Aunt Blake… really.
—Don't spoil them too much, Blake —Aunt Abby laughed, setting down a tray of tea on the table…
Soon the deep voice of Cordell's father interrupted the conversation.
—Have you thought about what you'll do with your grandparents' ranch, Blake?
Blake lowered her gaze to the teacup in her hands, as if searching in the steam for an answer.
—No, not yet… —she confessed with a sigh—. In two days I have an appointment with the lawyer to transfer the property. But honestly… I don't think I can take care of it, much less pay someone to manage it.
An uncomfortable silence fell.
Blake pressed her lips together before adding, in a firmer tone:
—Maybe I'll sell everything… except the ranch. I want to keep at least a piece of what was theirs, something that still belongs to the family.
Cordell's mother, from the other side of the room, lifted her eyes from her sewing.
—Your grandparents always said that land wasn't just land, Blake. It was their way of planting roots, of making sure you had a place to come back to. —her tone was soft, maternal, and gave her comfort.— Whatever you decide, I know they'd agree. Don't torment yourself.
Ethan said nothing. He knew it wasn't his decision to make. But an idea stirred in his mind —a way to help Blake, and maybe invest in some land at the same time.
—Well, that's for another day —Abby cut in, breaking the tension with a smile as she set her cup down—. Why don't we all go tomorrow to help clean up the ranch? The kids can take care of a few repairs, and that way it'll be livable for a few days.
Blake looked up, surprised by the initiative, while Stella and Auggie exchanged worried glances.
—Of course —added Bonham, with his usual half-smile.— We still have some materials in the barn we can use.
—Perfect! —Emily clapped, her enthusiasm contrasting with Blake's pensive expression.
Cordell glanced sideways at Blake and, noticing her unease, gave her a wink.
—You'll see. Once you're there you'll be able to decide. Don't suffer over it.
Blake took a deep breath, letting herself be carried by the family's optimism.
Walker clapped his hands with energy.
—Then it's settled!
—Can I help too? —Auggie piped up, raising his hand—. Grandpa's been teaching me a lot lately.
Emily smiled warmly at her son, then turned to Blake.
—Let the men handle the work. You and I will go to town tomorrow. I need to buy supplies… and we'll do a bit of shopping together.
Blake nodded happily, though she couldn't help asking:
—Cordell told me you've been too busy lately.
Emily exchanged a look with her husband before answering:
—We built a small supply station in the desert, right along the route some immigrants follow. Every week we bring water and food for those in need. The situation has worsened over the years… but someone has to do something for those people.
—I still don't agree with you going alone —Walker replied in a grave voice—. Too many traffickers are using those routes, it's too dangerous.
—That's enough, Cordell —Emily cut him off firmly—. We've already talked about this.
—I can't allow you to go alone, Emily —he insisted, his jaw clenched.
She gave him a sweet smile, tugged him playfully by the tie, and stole a kiss that disarmed him completely.
—Don't worry so much, darling. Besides… I won't be going alone, right? —she said, looking to the rest of the family for support.
—Why don't Ethan and I go with her? —proposed Blake, throwing her boyfriend a meaningful glance—. You were a cop… I'm sure Cordell would feel calmer if you came with us, right?
Ethan nodded without hesitation.
—Of course, we can go. —He knew what it meant, but if there was even a chance to protect someone close to Blake, he wouldn't think twice—. How about the day after tomorrow? And… I've never camped in the desert.
—You were a cop? —Cordell asked, narrowing his eyes with interest.
—Yes —Ethan answered calmly—. Deputy in the Banshee, Pennsylvania sheriff's office. I resigned recently… personal matters.
Cordell nodded slowly.—Well… I'd feel safer if someone like you went with them.
—Dad! —Auggie jumped in with enthusiasm—. Can we go with Mom and Aunt Blake?
Stella stepped forward too, her face lit with the same excitement.—Yes, please, let us go!
Cordell looked at Emily, then Blake, and finally at Ethan, who held his steady expression. With everyone's eagerness, he had no choice but to agree.
And so, what began as a plan to help turned into an improvised family camping trip.
Walker sighed in resignation, though his gaze never left his wife, filled with the same love the years had never worn down.
Ethan, watching from the side, leaned toward Blake and whispered softly:
—Your family is straight out of a TV show.
She smiled, snuggling closer to him with a sigh.
The next morning, after enjoying beef-and-egg burritos with bacon, avocado, and fresh salsa carefully prepared by Aunt Abby, everyone set off.
Emily led in the F-150, followed by Walker in an old ranch truck loaded with building supplies.
Half an hour later, they arrived at the small farm that belonged to the Stephens family. In front of the door stood an elderly Mexican couple, who had worked for Blake's grandparents and were now caring for the ranch.
Old Luis wore a straw hat, while his wife had on a white cotton dress with golden edges and red, white, and green embroidery.
—Welcome home, dear —the old woman whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
—Thank you, Rosario… thank you, Luis, for taking care of them all this time. I don't know how I could ever repay you —said Blake, deeply moved.
—It was an honor, girl. Your grandfather was a great man —Luis replied in a deep but warm voice.
[section about them deciding to leave for El Paso summarized — can expand if needed]
Rosario slowly pulled an old keychain from her purse and placed it in Blake's hands.
—These are the keys to the entire ranch. It belongs to you now.
Blake accepted them with a knot in her throat, feeling the weight of inheritance pressing down through her fingers.
Everyone watched as the couple drove away down the dirt road.
Suddenly, a Lexus screeched to a halt in front of the ranch. From it stepped a young man, bearing a certain resemblance to Walker.
—Hey, guys! Am I late?
—Perfect, right on time. Come help us unload —Bonham grunted, tossing him a pair of gloves without ceremony.
—Liam! —Walker exclaimed, giving his younger brother a strong hug.— I hope we don't ruin your fancy suit with some heavy lifting.
Liam, always more polished than his brother, wore a tailored three-piece suit, immaculate as ever, but still carried that air of a city professional.
He smirked with mock arrogance:
—How dare you talk to me like that? Don't you know who you're speaking to now?
Walker pulled him into another hug, joking:
—Yeah, sure, the great Assistant District Attorney. But you're still my punk little brother.
Everyone laughed as the two wrestled like they had as teenagers.
—Either shut up and work, or you don't get dinner —Abby cut in, hands on her hips.
Walker and Liam obeyed immediately, still laughing, unloading materials.
—Blake! Long time no see! —Liam greeted, hugging her—. And this must be your boyfriend?
Blake snorted and gave him two playful punches on the shoulder.
—Sorry, Liam, but you're not his type.
Ethan shook his hand warmly. He could tell that beneath the jokes, Liam had a noble heart and was an important pillar of the family.
The Stephens' house stood solid. Though simple, made of brick and concrete, it held up far better than common wooden houses. The long porch with rocking chairs faced the horizon where cattle grazed.
Despite the wear of time, Luis and his wife had cared for the place with devotion: the railings shone clean, and the wooden floor looked almost new. Only the roof showed its age, with broken tiles and leaks.
Soon, under Bonham's instructions, everyone got to work. The women sanded and painted doors, windows, and posts, while the men focused on the roof.
—We need to reinforce this side before we retile. Walker, you and Liam climb up and measure what needs replacing —Bonham ordered.
Ethan leaned into the roof interior and spoke with confidence:
—I can take care of preparing the wood. When you pull it out, just give me the exact measurements.
Bonham eyed him skeptically.
—You sure you can handle it alone?
—No problem, I think I can manage with the saw.
Bonham clicked his tongue, amused.
—Well, let's see what you're made of, kid. Auggie, go give him a hand.
Ethan threw himself into the work as if it were an exam in front of his in-laws. He cut and polished the wood with precision.
When Bonham inspected one of the finished beams, he ran his fingers over the smooth surface and smiled in satisfaction.
—Hey Blake! This guy really knows how to work! You got yourself a good one this time. —he said loudly enough for the women to hear.
From the other side, mischievous laughter broke out; Blake couldn't tell if it was Abby or Emily who was looking at her with that knowing grin.
Lunch was simple: barbecue sandwiches prepared by Aunt Abby. The old Bonham and his wife served hibiscus water —roselle, as some call it more elegantly elsewhere.
Its ruby-red color was common in Mexican homes, a taste absorbed from this side of the border.
After eating, the women left first. They wanted to shower and head into town for shopping. Abby hesitated, insisting she should stay to prepare dinner, but Emily convinced her that the men could handle themselves.
The men went back to work. With Liam's help, Ethan joined beams, nailed boards, and assisted the Walker brothers on the roof. From below, Bonham directed with expert eyes as they repaired the damaged sheathing and laid the waterproofing. Finally, they hoisted up concrete tiles, one by one, layer by layer, until the repair was finished just past three.
—Well, damn! I thought we'd be done tomorrow, and here we are finished before evening —Bonham exclaimed, exhausted, leaning against the truck.
Auggie rushed to steady him, worried.
—Are you okay, Grandpa? You haven't looked so good lately.
The old man waved him off with a smile.
—Just age, don't worry. I still have to take you to Two Winds for a beer.
Walker frowned.—Come on, Dad, don't say that in front of Auggie.
—I'm thirteen! —the boy protested—. Stella went there when she was my age, and Liam took her.
—You little traitor, you're dead! —Liam growled before lunging at him.
Walker wasted no time tackling his brother, and soon both were rolling on the ground, yelling and laughing.
—Enough already! Emily was there! Ow! Damn it, you're too rough! —Liam complained between laughter and shoves.
With the cunning of the old, Bonham clapped Ethan on the shoulder.
—You and Blake should come back more often… and who knows, maybe settle down soon.
Ethan was left speechless, surprised by the hint. Inside, something stirred warmly.
—It's still early. How about we go catch some catfish at the lake? —Bonham laughed, then snapped his fingers— Ever tried noodling?
—No, but I can try.
The brothers cheered at the idea, and Ethan, intrigued, agreed. He'd seen videos of catching catfish with bare hands, but never tried it.
Before long, they all headed to the lake. It wasn't large, just a wetland formed in a river bend. Beneath a giant cypress, aerial roots created perfect hiding spots for catfish.
Cordell and Liam dove in wearing shorts and rubber gloves, stirring up the mud to draw them out, while Bonham, more patient, cast a line.
In less than half an hour, the old man had a massive fish on his hook. Auggie and Ethan cheered like it was an epic victory.
Ethan himself, soaked head to toe, managed to haul out a striped bass nearly twenty pounds, earning a proud smile from Bonham. Walker and Liam weren't far behind, together wrestling out a catfish over thirty pounds.
By five in the afternoon, they returned to the ranch with their catches.
The women had just come back from town, laughing and loaded with bags. Blake stepped forward, raising a big canvas bag filled with fresh vegetables and seasonings from the organic market.
Wasting no time, Walker rolled up his sleeves. In a corner of the yard he built two improvised grills with leftover bricks and roof tiles. Blowing on the dry wood, soon he had a crackling fire.
Abby, knife in hand, was already at a wooden table. With the skill that only years in the kitchen bring, she cut the catfish into thick, firm fillets, then did the same with the bass, careful to keep portions even.
—Need a hand? —Blake asked.
—This isn't complicated —Abby replied, cleaning off scales— but you can prep the marinade. Just garlic, olive oil, and rosemary, nothing more. The fish already has all the flavor.
Ethan joined eagerly, watching every move like it was part of a ritual. He was fascinated by how naturally this family organized themselves, each knowing what to do without needing many words.
Emily arranged the vegetables in an iron basket, ready to set over the embers.
Blake appeared behind Ethan with cold beers, passing them out to those working.
—This is starting to feel like a party —she teased, handing one to Ethan.
—In Texas, any excuse is good enough to light a fire —Walker replied, laying the first fillets over the improvised grill. The air filled with the irresistible aroma of fresh fish, lemon, and herbs.
Auggie and Stella ran circles around the table, excited to taste dinner. Bonham, seated under the great cypress's shade, watched with a satisfied smile.
Blake handed her uncle a beer.
—This is how it should be —he murmured, almost to himself—. Hard work by day… and good food at nightfall. That's what I call home.
Blake heard him and nodded, moved.
—Yes. That's what home feels like.
By nightfall, the Walker brothers had lit a bonfire in the yard. The fire lit their faces in orange glows, while crickets and wind in the trees played their evening song.
Auggie, ever enthusiastic, took the guitar Blake had given him —it had arrived by delivery that morning, and she'd picked it up on her trip to town.
After tuning a couple strings, he began to play a southern ballad. His youthful voice, still a bit unsure, carried a sweet timbre that mixed with the crackle of burning wood. Ethan had never heard that song, but he admitted the guitar sounded magnificent and was the perfect gift for the boy.
After a couple beers, Walker couldn't resist. He stood, reached for Emily's hand, and pulled her onto the makeshift "stage" before the fire. Boldly, he wrapped her close and they began to dance a country waltz. Their steps were agile, full of complicity; at times even a bit daring for dancing in front of the kids, which sparked laughter all around.
Not to be left behind, old Bonham took Abby by the hand and led her out. His steps were slower, but full of affection and tradition.
Then Stella was swept into the dance by her uncle Liam. Soon, even Emily coaxed Blake to join, and Ethan had no choice but to follow.
Ethan wasn't much of a dancer, and at first he moved clumsily, copying Blake's steps mechanically. But slowly, he let the music and the moment carry him.
With a bold grin, he even tried imitating Walker's style: pulling Blake by the waist and dipping her low, which earned her a startled laugh and applause from everyone else.
Little by little, the music faded, the fire dwindled to embers, and the Walker family drifted off to bed —until only Ethan and Blake remained.
Soon they walked back to the cabin in silence. The cool country air wrapped around them, the only sound the crunch of branches beneath their boots.
Ethan shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the chair, then stepped toward Blake with a tired smile.
—You don't dance as badly as you said —he murmured, leaning in so only she could hear.
Blake looked at him with a mix of pride and shyness.
—That was thanks to you.
Ethan let out a soft chuckle and, without another word, wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close until he felt her breath. At first, they simply stayed like that, the world far away, reduced to the shared heartbeat between them, until they kissed.
Ethan's slow kiss deepened, more demanding, and Blake responded with the same intensity, clutching his shirt tight.
His hands slid down her waist, tracing her calmly, as if memorizing every curve. Blake looked up at him, lips parted, breath quickened, and that alone ignited him further.
—Ethan… I missed you —she whispered, her voice trembling between desire and vulnerability.
Blake had endured two traumatic moments in the past year, and she had developed a deep attachment and love for Ethan, which only amplified her longing after so much time apart.
He caressed her cheek, trailing down to her neck, kissing there —on that sensitive skin that drew a broken sigh from her lips. Blake guided him toward the bedroom, their steps clumsy between nervous laughter and burning looks, until her back brushed against the edge of the bed.
Their lips found each other again, this time with overflowing urgency. The kiss turned deep, hungry, their breaths mingling. Without breaking from his mouth, Blake's hands slid to Ethan's belt, fumbling anxiously as she unbuckled it and tugged his pants down.
Ethan responded with the same intensity, his hands roaming her body with firm caresses until they found the hem of her blouse and lifted it slowly. In one fluid motion, the garment fell to the floor, revealing the black bra that stood out against her heated skin.
—God, you're beautiful… —Ethan murmured, his voice rough with desire.
—And you've been working out… —Blake replied with excitement as she kissed his chest.
Ethan moved downward, and she quickly understood, opening her legs to expose herself. Her head tilted instinctively back as she felt his tongue press firmly and play between the folds of her skin, savoring her essence.
—Ah… ah… yes… harder… —Blake gasped desperately, her body trembling under Ethan's relentless foreplay.
Her fingers tangled tightly in his hair, pulling as her breathing grew ragged. The heat of their skin mingled with sweat, and Blake's broken moans echoed through the empty house, with no one to silence the sound of her pleasure.
—Ethan… —her voice cracked between a scream and a sigh, her back arching as she lost control. A powerful orgasm surged through her, making her tremble beneath him as she clung to his hair, panting heavily, lost in ecstasy.
Ethan didn't stop; his lips continued to travel over every inch of Blake's body until he rose slowly to her breasts. If there was one thing that made her unforgettable, it was the generosity of her bust, firm and tempting beneath the fabric.
With skilled fingers, he unclasped the front hook of her bra and calmly slid it away, leaving her breasts bare before him. Wasting no time, he began to caress them, alternating firm squeezes with gentle strokes. Then he bent down and caught one nipple in his mouth, sucking with intensity while his other hand massaged the opposite breast.
—Mmm… Ethan… —Blake sighed, trembling, her breath shallow as she arched toward him, offering herself eagerly to his lips. Every flick of his tongue drew deeper moans from her, showing just how much he was setting her on fire.
Blake slid her hand into his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his hardened shaft and stroking him. Feeling him completely hard, she guided him toward the bed in one fluid motion and took control, straddling him. Reaching for his rabbit-skin cowboy hat, she set it on his head, giving him a fiery look.
—I told you, cowboy, everything is better and bigger in Texas… —Blake whispered breathlessly as she slid Ethan's cock inside her, feeling him fill every inch of her.
Ethan gripped her waist, helping her move, thrusting harder and deeper, tearing loud cries from her lips.
—Don't… don't stop… please —Blake panted, digging her nails into his back as she lost herself in the intensity of his thrusts.
He leaned in, his voice low and husky in her ear.
—Shit, Blake… I'm gonna cum.
Blake threw her head back with a desperate moan.
—Do it… cum inside… come on, I'm almost there too.
Ethan let out a deep growl, an exhale of pure bliss, before shouting:
—Here I come…
The silence that followed was filled with ragged breaths. Blake collapsed against his chest, her heart racing, while Ethan gently caressed her back.
—That was… incredible —she murmured with a tired smile—. I'd forgotten how good it could feel to be with you.
—I missed you too, Blake —he whispered in a rough, playful voice.
She let out a laugh.
—Oh yeah? And why's that?
Ethan pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. With a mischievous smile, he replied:
—Your tits are the biggest I've ever had in my hands…
A blush spread over Blake's face.
—Ethan! —she exclaimed between laughter, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder.
—I'm just kidding…
—I don't think so, but I'll show you what these pretty tits can do too. I promise you'll like it, and you'll never forget me.
With a wicked smile, she began to tease him with touches and strokes, stoking his desire again. Feeling him hard once more, Blake began to suck him with renewed fervor.
—Don't… don't stop, please —Ethan moaned, his voice strangled with delight as his hips moved instinctively.
Blake laughed against his thigh, her tongue tracing his tip with playful skill. With her ample breasts, she pressed them against his shaft, provoking a deep groan from him.
—Don't you like it? —she murmured, before taking him eagerly into her mouth.
Blake slid his cock between the valley of her breasts, massaging him in the soft, firm space between them. With every thrust of his hips and movement of her head, he groaned and quickened his pace.
—Here it comes… —Ethan moaned, releasing a surge of pleasure that spilled warm across her chest.
Minutes later, the room filled with soft moans, the electric friction of their bodies, and the certainty that neither of them would want to stop exploring each other that night.