by Amber Kelly
“What?”
“Just jealous of the horse. I mean, what does a guy have to do to get some lovin’ around here?” he teases.
I laugh off his remark and round the animal. Rising up on the toe of my boots, I press a kiss to his jaw. He smiles a triumphant smile.
“That’s more like it,” he says as he adjusts the saddle and secures it.
Braxton walks back in, followed by Aunt Madeline.
“Thank you so much for the help, guys. I guess it’s time to start looking at hiring a few more people.”
Business has been booming for her ever since The Denver Post published an article, singing the praises of her equine therapy classes. Parents come from far and wide, seeking not only riding lessons, but also Aunt Madeline’s specialized hippotherapy for their children with special needs. She used to be a full-time veterinarian student in Denver before our parents’ accident sent Braxton and me barreling headfirst into her life and changed all her plans. She married Jefferson, moved out to Poplar Falls, and took in Braxton and me. In the years that followed, she fell in love with teaching riding to adult beginners and children, and that led to her getting her degree in occupational therapy. If she ever felt like she’d missed out on something, she never let us feel that.
She was definitely meant to be doing what she does. She has a way with both children and horses. It’s beautiful to behold.
“I can help until you find the right people,” I offer.
“I appreciate that. The last thing I want to do is start turning people away.”
“This girl here is ready to go,” Walker says.
I take her reins from him. “I’ve got her. Thanks.”
He gives me a wink as he releases her to me, and I lead her out just as three little humans come running up to the fence.
“Elle, this is Mary Kearny, and these are our special pupils for today—Melinda, Bryson, and Xander,” Aunt Madeline introduces.
“It’s nice to meet you guys,” I say as I bend to their level to say hello.
Both Melinda and Bryson greet me, but Xander just watches the horses through the fence without making eye contact.
“Xander is autistic, and he is nonverbal,” Mary explains.
I look at him and smile. “That’s okay. Talking is overrated anyway when riding. You don’t need anything but you, your horse, and the silence, huh, buddy?” I say to Xander, and he cuts his eyes to me for a brief second before he runs off in the direction of the corral gate.
Their mother says her good-byes, and we round up the children, get them outfitted with helmets, and check their footwear. Then, we make sure they each have a good saddle fit. Once we have them settled with their ponies, I man the reins of the older two as they learn to bring their mounts to a walk or trot while Aunt Madeline takes Xander in his own round pen and gets him acquainted with his mare. He was skeptical when they first arrived, but as he is slowly introduced to Polly—an older mare that retired from ranch work a few years ago—I can see him start to settle. It’s an amazing thing to watch.
The awe on the faces of his siblings as I walk them around the pen reminds me of the excitement I felt while watching Jefferson and Pop with the horses when I was a little girl. I was always on their heels, begging for them to take me for a ride. There is just something magical between children and horses.
We spend the next hour with these little angels before their time is up for the day. Both Melinda and Bryson did well and followed my instructions easily. Xander’s time was spent more getting to know the horse. I watched as he placed his hands on the horse’s sides and then laid his head against her ribs. As if he were soaking in her energy. It was intimate and calming and somehow cathartic for him as they bonded and built trust. This fascinated me.
We get them settled in Mary’s car and have them off before the second round of students arrives.
It’s so much fun that the afternoon flies by.
Elle
After the last group of kiddos load into their dad’s truck, Aunt Madeline and I take the horses into the stables and unsaddle them, brush them down, and feed them. Once they are put up for the night, we walk up to the house to join the rest of the family for supper.
I wash up before heading into the kitchen. I’m tired, but there is a sense of satisfaction that accompanies the aching muscles you incur after a day of hard work.
Braxton and his wife, Sophie, along with Aunt Doreen, Emmett, Uncle Jefferson, Aunt Madeline, Walker, Silas, and Pop are all seated at the table as Aunt Ria pulls fresh rolls from the oven.
This is our routine. Even though Braxton and Sophie moved into their newly built home after their wedding earlier this year, they still join us for supper most weeknights, as does Walker. He’s a confirmed bachelor who absolutely loves my aunts’ cooking. Sometimes, Silas comes over, too, when his wife, Chloe, is in night classes or working late with Aunt Madeline. I love this. Suppertime keeps us connected as a family.
Once all our plates are loaded and Pop has said grace—a duty he took over when Gram passed away last year—Uncle Jefferson clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.
All eyes are on him as he starts to speak, “Pop and I have been talking some things over with Sophie. The ranch had a record season last year. Sophie has taught us a few things about reinvesting into the ranch, and, well, we’ve made a few decisions we’d like to share with you all.”
Sophie is Jefferson’s daughter. She was raised in New York City by his first wife, Vivian. She returned to Poplar Falls when Gram died. After a rough start, she mended fences with her dad while falling back in love with her childhood home and with my big brother, so she stayed. She still has a successful jewelry business with her friend Charlotte, who mans the reins in New York, but she also took over the role of business manager of Rustic Peak in Gram’s absence. She’s done wonders in the small time she’s been here.
Several years ago, Gram and Pop divided Rustic Peak into shares. Every member of the Lancaster family, which includes Braxton and myself, has a share, and the end-of-year profits go into our accounts. Pop, Uncle Jefferson, Braxton, and now Sophie have a larger share percentage because they actively work the ranch. Aunt Madeline, Aunt Doreen, Aunt Ria, and I do not, but our profit share is still quite substantial some years, and we all enjoy the free room and board here on the property. Emmett, Uncle Jefferson’s best friend, along with Walker and Silas are all full-time employees, and they hire seasonal workers when the calves come in the spring or whenever extra hands are needed.
“We are going to open up new acreage and start a new pasture, a new feedlot, and a new watering system on the back of the mountain. This means we’ll go to auction next month and purchase a couple new bulls and several dozen heifers and heiferettes, as well as some new equipment. In addition to that, we’ll fence in another four hundred acres to accommodate the new herd.”
“That’s going to require a lot more work. Work I’m not sure we have adequate hands for,” Braxton interrupts.
“I’m getting to that, son. Pop and I have decided that we are going to give a few in-house promotions and add some more full-time positions to our staff. First of which is you, Brax. We’d like you to officially step into the ranch manager position. That will include the duties of the cattle manager. We’d like to promote Walker to ranch foreman and Silas to head wrangler. Emmett will remain the ranch caretaker, so therefore we will need to hire two new full-time ranch cowboys and two new ranch hands. I think we should also hire a couple of part-time stable hands.”
The table falls quiet.
Then, Walker speaks, “Ranch foreman?”
Uncle Jefferson nods in his direction. “You’re a vital part of Rustic Peak. You have been for years. I think it’s about time you get a proper title for all the work you do. Plus, it comes with a pay raise of ten thousand dollars a year.”
A slow smile spreads across Walker’s face, and he looks down at his plate as he says, “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’
t, son,” Uncle Jefferson answers.
“You’ve crunched the numbers, and are sure that all of this is doable?” Braxton asks Sophie.
“I have. Honestly, you could have been expanding and growing the herd the past five or so years. Gram was being extremely conservative with the budget, and now is the perfect time to go for it. I will also need more help in the office,” Sophie says as she looks over to me. “I know working here isn’t exactly your dream job, Elle, but would you consider working part-time in the office with me? At least until you decide where you want to go from here?”
I consider her question. It would feel good to contribute.
“Yes, I can do that. And maybe, if Aunt Madeline still needs help with the riding school, I can help there part-time for a while as well?” I ask, turning to Aunt Madeline.
“That would be such a big help,” she answers.
“Okay, count me in,” I tell them both.
“Excellent. We’ll start looking for hires next week, and I’ll let them know we will be at the Centennial Livestock Auction in Fort Collins next month,” Uncle Jefferson says.
Then, he digs into his plate, effectively ending the business talk for the evening.
After dinner, we decide a night out to celebrate is the way to go. So, I call my best friend, Sonia, and tell her to meet us at Butch’s Tavern at nine.
“I’ll grab us drinks. You and Elle find a table,” Braxton says before kissing Sophie and heading to the bar.
We spot Sonia across the dance floor, seated at one of the three pub tables that line the back wall. Chloe is seated beside her, and Walker and Silas are standing at the table next to them, beers in hand. They wave us over, and we slide into the chairs at the table with the girls.
“About time you guys showed up. You did say nine, right?” Sonia says as she looks at her watch.
“I did, but you know how hard it can be to pull Braxton off a damn tractor,” I say as I roll my eyes.
My brother is one of the best men I know and definitely one of the hardest-working. He lives and breathes Rustic Peak—or at least, he did before Sophie came along. Now, he is learning there is more to life than cattle and horses.
I love seeing him so happy and carefree. Bonus: he doesn’t have as much time or attention to focus on me. Saying my big brother is overprotective is putting it mildly. He made it his life’s mission to make sure I didn’t so much as stub my toe on a rock my entire life. Losing both our parents at such a young age caused him to treat me like I was made of glass. I’ve never truly minded, but sometimes, the weight of being smothered with love gets a tiny bit heavy to carry.
Braxton joins us a few minutes later with drinks for Sophie and me.
“Hey, bud,” Walker says as he slaps Braxton’s back. “Did you get ahold of Myer?”
“Yeah, I talked to him. He said Dallas is exhausted from being on her feet at the bakery all day, so she and Beau are going to stay in, but he and Payne are dropping by to have a celebratory drink with us,” Braxton answers.
“I can’t get used to pregnant Dallas,” Walker says with a shake of his head.
“At least she’s not puking her guts up anymore. That was a rough few weeks,” Sophie says.
“Babies will do that to you. You’ll see one day when you have an expectant wife, Walker,” Chloe chimes in.
“No, thank you. I’ll leave the wives and babies to Myer and Braxton,” he replies with a wink as he turns up a shot glass.
Myer Wilson’s family owns Stoney Ridge Ranch, a slightly smaller ranch on the other side of Poplar Falls. He is married to Dallas, Sophie’s childhood best friend. They have a seven-year-old son, Beau, and Dallas is pregnant with their second child. Payne is Dallas’s big brother. Myer, Dallas, and Payne went to high school with Braxton, Walker, and Silas, and they’ve all been thick as thieves since childhood.
Sonia, Bellamy—Myer’s little sister—and I are about a decade behind them. So, we were basically ignored until we turned twenty-one. That’s when we started showing up at all the places they hung out, and eventually, they had to begrudgingly let us into their circle.
“You’d better knock on wood, Walk, or you’ll be the next one of us going down the aisle, leaving poor Payne to carry the bachelor torch for us all,” Silas says on a laugh.
Walker instantly starts playing a drum solo on the tabletop.
“Marriage ain’t so bad. Is it, baby?” Sophie asks as she blows Braxton a kiss.
“Dude, are you going to just let her talk to you like that?” Walker asks.
Braxton grins and says, “I sure am.” He downs the rest of his beer, sets the bottle on the table, and commands, “Come dance with me, wife.”
Sophie hops up and joins him, and they head to the dance floor.
“She’s ruined him,” Walker says as he watches them disappear into the crowd.
“Shut up. She has not. She’s made him even more amazing,” I defend my new sister-in-law.
He leans over, takes a few strands of my hair between two of his fingers, and tugs. “You are biased, woman,” he accuses.
I incline my head and stare him in the eye. “And you are just plain ole mean,” I tease him back.
His grin widens.
“Stop pestering Elle,” Payne’s voice comes booming from behind me.
I look over my shoulder to see him and Myer crossing the floor to our party.
“She’s the one name-call’n,” he says as he stands to greet his friends.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Payne says as he reaches us. “Jefferson must have lost his damn mind to promote you,” he adds as he shoulder-bumps Walker.
“Hey, I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to Rustic Peak,” Walker says, feigning hurt.
“Sounds to me like Sophie might be the best thing that’s ever happened to it,” Myer butts in.
“She’s done an alright job, I guess.” Walker shrugs.
Payne stops a waitress as she tries to scoot by us. “Hey, Deb. A round of tequila shots for all of us, please.”
“Sure thing, Payne. Coming right up.”
“Uh-oh,” Sonia mumbles under her breath.
I turn to her. “What?” I ask.
“We all know you and tequila don’t mix well,” she points out.
I did have a very unpleasant night with Jose Cuervo a couple years ago. Since then, even the smell of tequila brings back memories I’d rather forget of me hanging halfway out of the passenger window of Sonia’s car, puking a trail all the way from her boyfriend’s house to hers.
“I think I can handle it now. Besides, I was pretty proud that I didn’t get a single drop in your car that night. Unlike the time you drank all that homemade muscadine wine at your cousin’s birthday party and proceeded to christen the entire backseat, Bellamy, and me on the way home,” I rebut.
She sighs. “That was a horrible weekend. I never was able to get the atrocious smell of vomit out of the upholstery in that car. I lied and told Daddy my dog got sick on a ride to the Vet so he’d let me trade it. I loved that Mustang.”
Deb shows up with a tray full of shot glasses just as Braxton and Sophie make it back to our table.
We each take a glass, and Payne raises his in the air and shouts, “To new beginnings. Congratulations, Walker and Braxton!”
“Don’t forget Elle,” Walker interjects before we all drink.
“Elle too?” Payne asks as he looks to me.
“Yep. She will be working with Madeline and Sophie. Finally joining the family business,” Walker explains as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in.
“For now anyway,” I add.
“Well then, congratulations to you too, Elle. Salud!” Payne shouts, and we repeat it as we down our shots.
It burns all the way down my throat, and I instantly regret it.
Walker
Life has always been fairly simple for me. Well, not always. There was a time I had all kinds of dreams.
I wanted to marry my high
school sweetheart, Robin, and begin a family of my own. Maybe even buy some land, build a house, and start my own ranch. Funny how life can change on a dime.
The summer before our senior year of high school began, that same high school sweetheart became pregnant. I was a dumbass teenage boy, propelled by raging hormones, and hadn’t done what I should have to protect her, to protect us. She was terrified, and I was, too, truth be told, but the way I saw it, it was part of the dream. It just happened a little sooner than I had planned; that was all.
We told my parents first.
Mom nearly had a heart attack, and Dad just slapped me on the back and said, “Well, son, looks like you’re going to have to learn to be a man now.”
He didn’t exactly offer any insight as to how best to go about that. The only example he had ever set for me was how to drink your money away while your family did without and how to slap your wife around without leaving too many visible marks.
In hindsight, it wasn’t the worst reaction they could have had. At least they didn’t toss me on my ass as soon as they found out.
Her parents … now, they were a different story. Her mother pitched a fit and called me every name under the sun; it was an impressive tirade. She even pulled out a few words I’d never heard before, and when she finally allowed her husband to get his shots in, he mostly filled the air with threats against my life. I didn’t blame them. If that baby in their daughter’s womb were a girl, I’d act the same damn way if some punk like me without two nickels to rub together knocked her up before he even graduated high school. But the damage was done, and all I could offer them were useless apologies and a promise that I would step up and become a man that they would be proud to have marry their daughter and raise their grandchildren. I loved her, and I wanted that baby; that was all that mattered.
So, the very next day, I started pounding the pavement. That was what landed me at the doorstep of Rustic Peak Ranch. I knew Braxton from school, but we weren’t particularly close friends at the time. I had overheard him telling Payne in class one day at the end of the last school year that he was working for his uncle, Jefferson Lancaster, on his ranch all summer and that they were looking to hire a few extra hands if Payne was interested. After going door to door in town, asking after work and coming up short, I figured it was worth a shot to see if they might still need some help. Even if it was temporary, showing Robin’s father that I was making an effort would go a long way.
