Their Ranch Reunion

by Mindy Obenhaus

  Truth be told, that was the part that had bothered him all afternoon. What if something happened to his father and he wasn’t there? What if he never got to say goodbye?

  He drew in a deep breath, refusing to let that scenario play out again.

  Then there was Carly. He and Noah had practically dumped the old man on her. It wasn’t her responsibility to take care of him. No, either he or Noah should have stayed with their father until they could hire someone.

  “I hope Mommy hasn’t fed the foals yet.” Megan’s words as she squirmed in the passenger seat pulled him out of his thoughts. She was every bit as impatient as he was to get to the ranch, albeit for different reasons.

  “Are you kidding?” He glanced her way. “You saw how much they ate this weekend. Even if she did feed them, they’ll be ready to go again in no time.”

  She giggled. “Yeah, they were really hungry.”

  Since both Noah’s and Dad’s trucks were parked close to the house, he pulled up to the far end of the deck. He shifted into Park, his gaze suddenly drawn to the entrance to the mudroom. Why was Carly standing in the open doorway? And why was her stance so rigid, her arms crossed?

  Beyond her, he glimpsed his father. Cowboy hat atop his head, he glared down at Carly, looking fit to be tied.

  Andrew’s heart twisted. How could he have been so naive? He should have known better than to leave her alone with the old man. Clint Stephens was as stubborn as they came. No one except his wife had ever tangled with him and come out a winner. And from the looks of things, Dad had every intention of winning the battle of wills brewing between him and Carly.

  Andrew exited the truck and grabbed Megan, tucking her behind him as they climbed the three steps onto the deck.

  “Clint Stephens, you get back in that recliner right now or I’ll have Noah and Andrew here so fast it’ll make your head spin.” Apparently neither Carly nor his father had noticed them.

  A bone-chilling breeze kicked up as he moved beside the house, lifting the collar on his jacket. Looking down at Megan, he touched a finger to his lips.

  Eyes wide, she nodded, seemingly understanding his silent request.

  Peering around the corner, he continued to watch. A part of him was ready to rush to Carly’s side and give his father a piece of his mind. But the other, more rational part told him to stay put and let her handle things. Because despite his father’s intimidation tactics, she was doing a good job of holding her own. Much like his mother had done.

  The thought made him smile.

  His father continued to stare Carly down, but she wasn’t budging. Dad started coughing then, his body convulsing. The cold air must have gotten to him.

  Showing no mercy, Carly said, “You might think you’re ready to go out there, but your body is telling you otherwise.”

  The old man continued to cough.

  She stood her ground, though. “You gonna be stubborn and ignore it? Or are you man enough to listen to what your body is trying to tell you?”

  Andrew had to smother his laugh. She had his dad’s number, all right.

  His father removed his hat and turned around.

  “Okay, then.” Carly’s posture eased. “Let’s get you settled.” She stepped away from the door, closing it behind her. She’d obviously won the battle of wills. Just like his mama.

  He breathed a sigh of relief, another thought niggling his brain. He’d underestimated Carly. Not to mention his father. It irked him to no end to think that his father had tried to bully her.

  He glanced back at Megan. “Your mama’s one tough cookie, you know that?”

  The kid grinned. “Can we go see the foals now?”

  “Sure.”

  The foals attempted to nicker as he and Megan made their way into the barn. He pushed the door closed, glad that the dilapidated structure still blocked the wind.

  While Megan petted and talked baby talk to Elsa and Anna, he tried to wrap his brain around the wayward thoughts that were suddenly bombarding him. Until now, he’d always thought of Carly as the girl he once loved. But seeing the tough yet tender way she dealt with his father had him realizing she’d become an amazing woman.

  “I thought I saw you two sneaking in here.” Noah closed the door, armed with two bottles. “Megan, you think those babies are hungry again?”

  She nodded, her smile morphing into a giggle as one of the foals nuzzled her neck.

  Grinning, Noah handed her one of the bottles. “Looks like we’d better hurry before they decide to make a snack out of you.”

  “Have you been in the house yet?” Leaning against the side of the stall, Noah offered the second bottle to Elsa.

  Andrew shook his head. “No. Though we did witness an interesting exchange between Carly and the old man.”

  His brother’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”

  Andrew explained what had transpired.

  “Maybe Carly isn’t the right person to watch Dad, after all.”

  “Are you kidding? She’s perfect,” said Andrew. “I mean, when was the last time you were able to get the old man to back down?”

  “Good point.”

  “Besides, Carly volunteered. It’s not like we coerced her or anything.”

  “True.”

  “I talked to Jude. He’s working a double shift today but should be in tonight.”

  “That’s good. I’m going to need him to help me with the cattle.” Noah smirked. “That is, unless you’d like to help me.”

  Andrew held his hands up. “Don’t look at me. I’ve got plenty to do at Granger House.”

  “Excuses, excuses.” His big brother dragged the toe of his well-worn boot through the dirt. “I called Matt.”

  Their middle brother and Dad had always had a volatile relationship, but even more so after Mom passed away. She was the glue that had kept things together. Without her... “How did that go?”

  Noah shrugged. “You know Matt. He doesn’t say much. Just that things are busy at the Sheriff’s department, but he might stop by.” They shared a knowing look, neither believing that Matt would actually show.

  “What about Daniel?” Their baby brother was the adventurer of the family and currently white-water rafting in South America. “You need me to contact him?”

  “Nah, I’ll email him tonight, let him know what’s going on. It’s not like he can do anything anyway.” Noah pushed off from the wall. “Mind taking over for me? I need to run back up to the stable.”

  The two traded places.

  “Guess I’ll see you at supper,” said Noah on his way to the door.

  “Who’s cooking? You or me?”

  One side of his brother’s mouth lifted. “Neither. I checked in with Carly earlier. Said she’s got us covered.”

  When the foals finished eating, Andrew and Megan made their way to the house. Stepping inside, he was overcome with the most incredible aromas. Food the likes of which this house hadn’t known since his mother’s passing.

  Moving from the mudroom into the main part of the house, he was taken aback. His father was in his recliner with a plastic mask over his mouth, looking very pale.

  Beside him, Carly turned off the machine that provided the breathing treatments. “Feel better now?”

  Dad nodded and removed the mask, his hesitant gaze drifting to Carly’s. “Thank you.”

  Andrew almost fell over. If he hadn’t heard it for himself, he never would have believed it. Carly had definitely won the old man over.

  And Andrew couldn’t say he blamed him.

  Chapter Ten

  By midday Tuesday, Carly had cleaned just about everything she could clean at the ranch house. She fixed herself another cup of tea, scooped up the mug and leaned against the pristine counter, watching Clint sleep in his recliner. His c
ontinued wheezing was cause for concern. She’d hoped there would be some sign of improvement, yet things were, perhaps, even a little worse. Then again, it had been only twenty-four hours. She prayed he might turn a corner tomorrow. In the meantime, she’d do her best to keep him comfortable, well rested and nourished.

  The timer she’d set on her phone vibrated in her back pocket since she didn’t want to risk waking him.

  She set her cup on the counter and turned off the timer before retrieving two large baking sheets of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. Chocolate chip had been her first choice, but since there were no chocolate chips to be found at the ranch house... Maybe she’d pick some up for tomorrow.

  Spatula in hand, she transferred the cookies to the cooling racks she’d laid out on the long wooden table. It felt good to cook for other people again. That’s one of the things she missed the most about Granger House Inn being out of commission.

  She was off the hook for tonight’s dinner, though. Rose Daniels had gotten wind of Clint’s illness and called Carly earlier, wanting to know how the townspeople could help.

  Carly had thanked her and then, as tactfully as she could, went on to express her concerns about Clint’s health and potentially exposing him or any visitors to unwanted germs. To which Rose replied, “You’re right, dear. I’ll just let everyone know that the Stephens have got you to cook for them, so no meals are needed.” And then the woman promptly volunteered to bring them some pulled pork for tonight.

  Setting the empty baking pans in the sink, Carly chuckled. She could only hope to have a heart as big as Rose Daniels’s.

  After washing the baking sheets and moving the cooled cookies to a storage container, she glanced around the room. Surely there was something productive she could do. She wasn’t one simply to sit and twiddle her thumbs. Maybe she should start bringing her laptop so she could knock out some bookkeeping while Clint was asleep.

  Cup in hand, she wandered down the hallway to see if she’d missed anything. She’d washed Clint’s sheets as well as dusted and vacuumed his room but had vowed not to enter any of the brothers’ rooms. Noah had moved back in after leaving the rodeo circuit a few years back; Jude still spent much of his time here, helping his father with cattle; and Daniel kept his room for the rare occasion he wasn’t traveling. Which he was currently doing, so Andrew was occupying the space.

  Continuing to drift, she entered the small room that had been Mona’s crafting space. Spools of colorful ribbon still hung from dowels attached to the wall, while decorative papers and fabric had been tossed into baskets and boxes and pushed against the walls, as though someone had cleaned up the space without really knowing where things went.

  On the far side of the room, a long countertop stretched the length of the wall with shoe boxes and a stack of books piled in one corner. Moving across the worn beige carpet, she realized that they were scrapbooks. She set her cup down and lifted the cover on the top one. The first page was blank, as were the second and third pages. They all were.

  Perplexed, she closed the scrapbook, set it aside and reached for the next one. Also empty. Three, four and five, too. Hmph.

  Picking up her tea, she took another sip. Maybe they were just extras.

  As she lowered the cup, her gaze fell to the boxes beside the scrapbooks. Just regular old shoe bo—

  What was that?

  She leaned in for a closer look at the one on top. There was a handwritten N in one corner.

  Returning her mug to the counter, she tugged the box toward her, casting a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming. She had no business doing this. These could be Mona’s most cherished possessions. Yet something compelled her to look.

  With the first box in front of her, she glimpsed the corners of the second box, finally spotting an A. Nudging it aside, she moved on to the third box. Sure enough, there was an M on one of its corners.

  She grabbed the box with the A, set it atop the one already in front of her and lifted the lid to discover dozens of photos. A smile played on her lips at the sight of a baby Andrew staring up at her. All that dark hair. Simply adorable.

  Picking up the photo, she turned it over. It was labeled Andrew—4 months old.

  As she continued to look through the box, she saw that some photos had been grouped together. Each bundle was tied with ribbon and had a slip of paper tucked on the top, describing what the photos were about. Labels such as Andrew—Ranch Photos, Andrew—Scouts... In addition, every picture had extensive notes written on the back.

  She returned Andrew’s photos to the appropriate box before checking the other four. Each was organized in the exact same manner, and there was a separate box for each of Mona’s five boys.

  Carly could only imagine the time this must have taken. Talk about a labor of love. But that was so like Mona.

  She glanced at the empty scrapbooks. Five scrapbooks, five boxes. Had Mona intended to put together a scrapbook for each of her sons?

  Except her plans never came to fruition. Carly leaned against the counter. Could she pick up where Mona left off?

  She quickly put everything away, tucking it all back the way she had found it, and returned to the family room with a renewed sense of purpose.

  Later, after Clint woke up and had accepted another breathing treatment, she brought him some cookies, settled on the overstuffed loveseat next to him and told him what she had found.

  “That’s all she did during those last months.” Clint leaned back in his recliner. “All she could do, really. She always liked to give the boys something sentimental at Christmas. Those scrapbooks were supposed to be their gift that year.” His voice cracked. “The cancer got her before she could make them, though.”

  Carly battled her own emotions, covering by retreating to the kitchen to get him some more juice.

  When she returned, she set the glass on the table beside him before taking her seat again. “What would you think about me completing the scrapbooks in Mona’s stead?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

  “I’m afraid I’d have to disagree.” She stood and started toward the hallway.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You’ll see.” Determined to overcome his objection, she grabbed Andrew’s box and brought it to his father. Opening it up, she said, “Just look at how orderly and detailed Mona left everything. As though she were hoping someone would pick up where she left off.”

  Tears filled the older man’s dark eyes as he fingered his wife’s handwritten notes. “She did all this?” He sniffed and continued to dig through the box.

  After examining the contents, he looked over at Carly. “You might be right.” He placed the lid back on the box and handed it to her. “It would be a shame to let all of my wife’s hard work go to waste.” He smiled then, his cheeks wet with tears. “I believe she would be very appreciative if you completed this project that was so near to her heart.”

  “I would be honored to do it, Clint.”

  He dabbed his eyes with a napkin before reclining again. “I know I haven’t been the easiest patient, but I thank you for taking care of me, Carly.”

  She smiled, grateful that they’d managed to come to an understanding yesterday.

  “And for giving Andrew a reason to hang around a while, though I’m sorry it had to be at your expense.”

  She blinked away the tears that threatened. “Believe it or not, Clint, your sons still need you. Which is precisely why you need to get well.”

  * * *

  Things were looking up by Wednesday afternoon. At least in Andrew’s mind. His father was doing better, Carly’s new windows and door had been installed, and Marianne had called from the design studio to say that the cabinets would be shipped sooner than expected.

  Now, as he made his way to the ran
ch with Megan, his mind was reeling. Since the timeline had been bumped up, he needed decisions from Carly. Namely appliances. They’d looked at tons of them this past weekend, but aside from the special-order commercial range, Carly was still mulling things over. The time had arrived to make those purchases.

  Walking into the ranch house, he was again greeted with the smells of home. An aromatic dinner and a hint of something sweet. He could get used to coming home to Carly. A beautiful woman, great company, fantastic cook...

  While Megan went on inside, he paused in the mudroom, confused by the train of thought his mind had taken. After all, he’d soon be headed back to Denver to embark on the next phase of his life. And Carly would never leave the life she’d built for her and her daughter.

  He gave himself a stern shake before meeting her in the kitchen. “Good news. Your cabinets are arriving early.” He followed her from the stove to the refrigerator. “So we need to get your appliances on order ASAP.”

  Carly poured a short glass of milk and put three snickerdoodles on a plate. “Sorry, but I can’t think about the kitchen right now.” She crossed to the table and set both in front of Megan and her homework. The woman was like a well-oiled machine.

  She faced him now. Worry puckered her brow as she shoved the sleeves of her black sweater to her elbows. “Your father’s fever is up.”

  “What?” The old man seemed to be doing so well this morning. How could things change so quickly?

  “I’ve already contacted the doctor. Trent’s going to drop by on his way home, possibly give him a shot of antibiotics.” She heaved a sigh. “If that doesn’t work, he’s going to the hospital.”

  Andrew’s heart skidded to a halt. “But... I thought he was doing better.” He eyed his dad in the recliner, thanking God that he was in Ouray and not Denver. Though if he were, he’d have come immediately. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. Still, what if he lost his dad? What would he do? They were getting on so well.

  No, he wouldn’t let anything happen. He couldn’t.

  He watched as Carly went to his father, touched a hand to his cheek, then returned to the kitchen with his empty glass.