Racing Hearts: Bennett Boys Ranch

by Landish, Lauren

  I feel like I’m watching continents move, slow but powerful, quiet but fierce.

  “I propose that you sell your farm to us.” Brody flinches at Mark’s words, but Mark plows ahead. “We’ll give you market value for it so you’ll have the money to pay off Franks, plus some in the bank. Just as importantly, your family will be safe from their threat.”

  Brody growls and Mark growls right back.

  Not continents. Beasts, ready to battle.

  “There’s more. The entire property will become Bennett Ranch, and herds will be combined and worked across all the pastures. You ready for the good part yet?” Mark’s lips twitch, and I get the sense that he’s enjoying this somehow, which pisses me off.

  I’m about to say something, yell at the injustice, or more likely, tell him to fuck off for taking advantage of our loss the way Daddy tried to do to them when their dad died. Daddy was wrong when he did it, and so is Mark. Fucking hypocrite, that’s what he is.

  Luke gives up on squeezing my thigh and pinches me instead to get my attention. I swat at his hand, glaring at him in anger. “Wait,” he mouths silently, for nobody but me.

  “We can’t work all that land, all those animals. Not with just three of us. Not with Luke being gone a lot of the time and James about to have a baby. We’re gonna need some help. That’s where you Tannens come in. I ain’t ever worked fields, don’t know shit about farming or orchards. But you two do.” He lifts his chin toward Bruce and Bobby. “And I can’t care for the herd alone.”

  Brody scoffs, his words more a sneer than anything. “So you wanna buy our land out from underneath us and then hire us back on as workers?”

  Mark’s shoulder lifts and then drops. “You can see it that way if you want, and I guess in a way, that’s true. There ain’t no shame in what we do. We’re all ranch and farm hands.” He points around the table at everyone except for Sophie and Katelyn, who have their own careers that don’t depend on the land surrounding us. Well, Sophie does, kinda . . . but the point’s made. “Some of us just have to worry about the budget sheet, and some of us just do the work and fall into bed at night.”

  He pauses, and I can see the reality sinking in for Brody, heavy and painful.

  “And what ranch hand do you know who has their own family home? You all can stay over there or build your own house somewhere on the property, if you’d rather. And one last thing, and this is a big deal no other buyer is gonna give you, so listen up . . . we’ll include in the contract that if we ever choose to sell your original acreage, you’ll have right of first refusal. We won’t ever be able to sell your family land without you passing on it first.”

  Mark sighs, like saying that many words in one go was hard as hell for him. I see Katelyn lay her hand over his, her red-tipped thumb swirling across his tanned skin.

  It sounds . . . good? I think. I mean, it’s definitely better than anything we’ve come up with in the last few days. Luke resumes the swirling pattern on my thigh, letting me think, but I can feel his eyes on me. Heavy, hopeful. Like my heart.

  Brody’s head falls, though. “I can’t. I don’t know if I can—” He looks up, his glassy eyes meeting mine, Bruce’s, and Bobby’s before he looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in denial at the inevitability of our losing the farm.

  Mama Louise’s voice is soft, serenity rolling through the air in waves from her end of the table. “Here’s what I think, Brody Tannen.” He doesn’t look at her, but she keeps speaking to him. “You are a good man, one who has done far too much for far too long, probably more than any of us even realize. And it’s time for you to get to live your life too.”

  “This is my life,” he strangles out. “I don’t know anything else.”

  Mama Louise smiles. “And you know it better than just about anyone, save maybe one or two people at this table.” She looks at Mark, and I see a slight flush wash over his scruffy cheeks. “Mark’s all business, and I think you are too in a lot of ways. Shoot, I think you two’d make a good team. The business makes sense, you know it does. But let me tell you what I see.”

  Her eyes move around the table, meeting each of ours, and I can see the love pouring out of her, changing the very atmosphere surrounding us to one of . . . home.

  “I’ve been blessed to spend a few years on this Earth, more than your mother, your father, and my John. What I’ve learned is that family is what matters. My family, your family . . . and what could, if you’ll let it, be our family. It’s not always made by blood. Sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, it’s made by choice. Look around this table, Brody.”

  Though she’s telling my brother, I do as she says too and see the shock on my brothers’ faces and the surety in the Bennetts’.

  “Shay and I could tear this kitchen up, whipping up some dinners like you’ve never dreamed of, or she could focus on her soaps if she wants, because I’d love nothing more than to feed a full household every night. That’s my life, my love to my boys, and now, my girls too.” She looks at Sophie, then Katelyn, and then me. And I feel something I haven’t in a long time. A mother’s love, honest and pure . . . and mine. It feels warm and good, like sealant over a crack in my heart that’s been fighting to heal.

  “You and Mark could work an even bigger herd together, though the good Lord knows, you’ll have to figure out how to speak in more than grunts and fists. But you are two peas in a pod, and I think you’d be friends if you both managed to get your heads out of your asses.”

  I can’t help the tiny giggle at Mama’s cussing because I think she’s right about their being alike in a lot of ways.

  “Your brothers’ lives don’t have to change unless they wanted something different. And even then, they’d have the choice, something none of you have now. The only thing that’s changed by this plan is the worry on your shoulders, the weight you carry every day, the boundaries still caging you in. You don’t have to do it alone. Let us all help carry that load so you can be free to do what you love, where you love the land, without worries.”

  Brody looks at Mark, so much swirling in his eyes that I can’t tell what he’s thinking, which scares me. This sounds too good to be true. It sounds like the solution we’ve all been praying for, and I just hope he can see that. We’re losing the farm no matter what, but at least this way, we keep our lives the way we’ve always lived them. Dare I say, it might even be a better quality of life than the worry-filled one we’ve had these last few years.

  “You got funds for a purchase this big? I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but our farm ain’t small potatoes. And given the current situation, I’d advise against putting up your ranch as collateral.” He laughs, but it’s a bitter, painful sound.

  Mark looks at Luke, who I see nod beside me in some brotherly version of a conversation.

  “Well, I did take that lesson to heart. And to be quite honest, I wouldn’t put Pops’s land up for anything in the world. But we needed collateral to secure the loan. Good thing we’ve got some damn fine thoroughbreds in the barn. For some reason, Luke seems to fancy you more than them.”

  Brody looks at Luke incredulously. “You did that for us?”

  Luke grins, cocky bravado that I know is for Brody’s benefit, to let him save a little face in a situation he likely feels humbled by. “Well, I figured I owed you after sneaking around with your little sister. How about we call it even now?” He throws his arm over the back of my chair possessively, dangerously comfortable with his PDAs considering Brody’s precariously on edge and close enough to throw a solid punch. “Plus, I’ve got no intention of defaulting on that loan and losing my babies. Between you working the herd, the boys working the land, and me working the horses, we’ll make each of the payments early, just to be sure.”

  It’s a promise as sure as I’ve ever heard one. My heart leaps at the picture they’re painting, wanting it so badly. Brody and I have been through so much together, the ragtag glue holding our family together, but the Bennetts are promising something much bette
r than a quick fix or the make-do we’ve had to settle for.

  They’re promising a family, a forever.

  Brody blinks and then swallows thickly, not taking the lightness Luke offered. His voice is choked, rough as he tells the table, “This is . . . a lot. Thank you so much. I guess we need to talk about this as a family.”

  Mark nods and gets up. “Katelyn planned hot chocolate and s’mores for us around the campfire pit out back as dessert. We’ll go get everything set up and light the fire. Take your time, though. It doesn’t have to be tonight if you’re not ready. Or ever, if you don’t want to. Gotta say, though, I don’t think we’d ever get better neighbors than you.”

  He sets a manila envelope on the table next to Brody. “I took the liberty of having Sophie’s hotshot lawyer draw up the contract. He said he made a few notes for you, so read over it carefully. It’s all in there.”

  * * *

  “What do you think?” Brody asks us when silence descends again.

  We’ve read over the contract page by page, and it’s exactly what Mark said. Mr. Branford’s notes had basically said, Sign this now! so we know what his advice is.

  “I hate it,” Bobby says, surprising us all.

  “What?” I screech, my voice pitched high enough to shatter glass.

  “I hate that we’re here, stuck in this position,” he says, wincing but holding up a hand. “But that’s Dad’s fault, ain’t it? He left his mess for us to clean up, same as always. His problem has been ours for too long. And of all the options we’ve gone through, this is the best. Far better than I think we even dreamed.”

  Bruce looks thoughtful and zeroes in on Brody. “For us, this is all emotional shit to some degree. If we do this, it’s mostly the loss of a piece of paper and a name on the front gate, but we’re gonna keep doing exactly what we’ve been doing our whole lives. For you, though . . . you think you can work with Mark? More importantly, you think you could work for him? I mean, if we sell to someone else, you’re probably going to be a ranch hand somewhere, so you’re gonna have a boss no matter what. But it wouldn’t have to be Mark Bennett.”

  Brody’s jaw clenches as he looks to the ceiling. He seems to be watching the lights shine, or maybe seeing beyond them?

  “I think that what we’ve been told about them for a lot of years was fundamentally wrong, and this is proof of that. As far as working for Mark Bennett, I could do worse. He’s a straight shooter, responsible, and someone I can respect. He’s a hard worker, and that goes a long way, in my book. And this way, at least we’re all still together. That means a lot.”

  He’s right. Our staying together means everything.

  I bump Brody with my shoulder and give him the slightest smile. “Fundamentally? Five whole syllables? Wish I had my notebook to write down the date.”

  His answering smile is sad. “I think we’ll remember this day for a long time, Shayannie.”

  Decision made, Brody picks up a pen. He sighs, a shudder rolling through his body. He looks up one more time, pen pressed to the page. “Fuck you, Dad. Hope you’re rolling in your grave and flaming in hell.”

  Shiiiit.

  That’s somehow harsher than I thought Brody would be. I mean, I’m still furious at Daddy, but I wonder again if Brody got something different from Daddy than I did. But that’s a conversation for another day. Right now, we’re signing away one dream, one life, and starting a fresh one with a bigger family right next door.

  Brody signs.

  Bruce signs.

  Bobby signs.

  I sign.

  We go outside, the cold night a deadly shock through me. We approach the rising fire as a unit, one family joining another, the sum greater than its individual parts.

  I sit on the ground between Luke’s spread knees. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the crown of my head, the warmth of the fire and his body bleeding into me, bringing me back to life and filling me with love, with family.

  Chapter 33

  Luke

  “How’d it go?” I ask Shay from my perch on the front porch. Her boots have barely hit the dirt, but I’ve been watching the drive for her to get here for too long to be patient now. Plus, I can already see by the look on her face that it went about as well as we’d expected. Which was pretty damn shitty.

  “Ugh, such a slimeball!” she hollers. “Do you know that after all was said and done and Brody signed over the check to Franks, he wanted to chit-chat about Daddy? Like we were best friends or kissing cousins or some shit. No, thank you, hope to never see ya again!”

  She’s pointing a finger and stomping her feet on the front steps to Mama’s house, her waves bouncing around in a riotous halo. I hate to see her mad, but she looks pretty with the pink coloring her cheeks. I’m a smart enough man to never, ever tell her that, though.

  I know today was hard on her, hard on Brody too. But they’ve been doing amazingly well with this whole transition. Better than I would’ve, that’s for sure, and I’m so damn proud of Shayanne. Of all the Tannens, really, though I won’t be telling the boys that anytime soon because they don’t want that touchy-feely shit from me.

  We finished the contract and loan with the bank two days ago, and we are officially the owners of the entire two thousand acres, a new and expanded Bennett Ranch. Once that was handled, Brody had to meet with Edward Franks to pay off the debt Paul racked up.

  To be on the safe side, we’d coordinated. The meeting took place in Mr. Branford’s office with a personal guard. I didn’t ask what kind of work he usually does to have a security detail on speed-dial, but I’m betting it’s not ugly divorces. Brody, Mark, and Shay had gone to town for that. Mama, Bobby, and I had sat on our front porch, with Brutal and James on the Tannens’, just in case Franks sent his goons back for a go-round while the meeting was taking place.

  But thankfully, everything was fine on our end. Just a quiet few hours of some get-to-know-you chatter. I think Bobby’s the last real hold-out of the Tannens, which surprises me. I thought he was pretty mellow, but there’s something about him. He reminds me of the saying, ‘Still waters run deep,’ but I’m not sure what’s in his head or his heart. I can just feel the distance, but maybe that’ll get better with time, something we’ll have plenty of now.

  And hell, for all I know, he’s still grieving over his dad. I know all the Tannens are to some degree, even with the anger they feel at him. You never ‘get over’ loss, not really. It changes you and then you move forward. They’re mourning the man he was and who they wish he would’ve been, all the while having these sparks of happy memories that don’t seem to coincide with who he’d become. Add to that being forced to lose the deed to their land, and it’s a lot. So I’m willing to cut Bobby some slack for burying that pain down a bit.

  “I’m guessing you told Franks where he could shove his nostalgia? With some style, I’m sure.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, hoping to douse her fire with my silliness.

  I already know from Mark’s text that it went all right, and we’ll hash it out with a play-by-play over dinner. So for now, I just want to soothe her ruffled feathers.

  She groans, eyes rolling heavenward. “You are the worst. I’ve got a good hissy fit worked up here, and you’re ruining it for no good-goddamn reason. Just let me whine for a minute!”

  “Don’t be a salty heifer, woman,” I tease. “You finished your business, he’s an ass, and now it’s time to move on. We’ve got bigger and better fish to fry.”

  It’s a risky attempt at distraction, and I have to work to keep my face straight, really fucking hoping she hears the humor. Otherwise, I’m a dead man. Rest in pieces, because there won’t be any peace from a pissed off Shayanne.

  “Did you just call me . . . a salty heifer?” she retorts, her mouth dropping into a gape. “Are you for real, Luke Bennett? I should tan your hide for mouthing at me like that.”

  She might sound outraged, but she’s got a thread of laughter working through the words, too, and I let my smile loose, thro
wing in a good chuckle too.

  “Woman, if anyone’s getting spanked around here, it’s you. Not me.” I point at her and then myself to emphasize the point.

  “Hmm, maybe. We’ll have to see about that,” she sasses back. She walks past me into the house, dragging a blunt nail over my sweatshirt-covered chest. I turn to watch her go, appreciating every look of her apple ass I can get. Before I can follow, she turns back and winks. “Not.”

  She laughs and runs into the safety of the house before I can even get up to chase her.

  I like this. Her smiles, her teasing laughter, her comfort in my family home, her place in my heart.

  And somehow, it’s working.

  It will be even better when I have to travel again after the holidays. With our families combining into this mish-mash of support, Shay will be able to go with me and her brothers will still be cared for by Mama. It’s a freedom Shayanne’s never known.

  And it’s a mother’s love the Tannens haven’t had in too long. Mama won’t ever replace their mom, but I think being ‘adopted’ by Mama is pretty much the best thing that could happen to anyone. Plus, she can tell them stories they’ve never heard about Martha Tannen. Maybe one day, about Paul too, but that’s still a pretty touchy subject for now.

  I get up and follow Shay’s voice to the kitchen. From the doorway, I watch silently as my woman and my mama chatter away like old friends with a platter of chicken, a bowl of egg wash, and a plate of seasoned flour in front of them.

  It makes warm fuzzies crawl all through my skin and my heart race a bit. I saw this moment when Mark and James found their women. Mama sharing her county fair prize-winning, super-secret fried chicken recipe is a sign of acceptance. A big one. It’s her stamp of approval on her entry to our family.

  I scratch at my lip with my thumb, my smile bright. “You teaching her to make your fried chicken, Mama? I know what that means.” Shay’s eyes ping-pong between us in cute, wrinkled-brow confusion.