Page 5 of Sin Bins and Second Chances
My mom is my best friend, better and more comical than any entertaining roommate I could dream of having when I was younger. Times change, though, we grow up. The things we want for ourselves as we grow change with every passing moment.
It’s never lonely on the ranch. Spread out on several hundred acres of the Miller Cattle Ranch is the rest of the family. Our house is set towards the front, closest to the road and front gate. Nobody could tell by driving down the road. The trees surrounding the house make it feel like a private park. They were the best climbing trees when I was little.
Uncle Beau and Aunt Maggie live the closest, not too far from the main barn. Andrew, my older cousin, lives in a house a little farther back. Delilah, Andrew’s younger sister, has a house on the other side of her parents. She’s hardly home, though. She’s a storm chaser and practically lives on the road.
My grandparents are right in the middle of everyone. Centrally located and readyto bring everyone together every Sunday for family supper and game night.
There are also two bunk houses on the property. The one near the front of the property houses nearly a dozen of the ranch staff. Most of those old cowboys have been around since before I could walk. The bunk house farther back is empty, only used seasonally when needed.
When my grandparents took over the ranch from grandpa’s grandparents, they started mapping everything out. There was only the main house that would become theirs and the bunkhouse near the back. The Miller Cattle Ranch has been in the family for generations. My grandparents had a vision, though. It grew to be a true family estate, with room to grow as they added buildings and various structures.
There were family members that didn’t live on the ranch, some that didn’t even live in Sage Creek, let alone Texas. They didn’t care to be part of ranch life. It was like they ceased to exist, dropping off the face of the planet and cutting off communication.
Except for Grandpa’s younger brother, Elliot. Uncle Elliot preferred to live in town. He enjoys theconvenience of living right in the middle of Sage Creek. He also owns one of the local bars, The Copper Mug. It’s where he spends most of his time. He’ll occasionally come to family supper and help with the occasional cattle drive.
The sounds of the world waking up flow across the open window as I set to work wrapping an assortment of pastries. I can imagine across the property Grandpa is bringing Grandma her morning cup of coffee in bed after getting a head start on whatever work he has planned for the day. Aunt Maggie will still be sleeping. Probably longer than usual since her and mom stayed up late last night drinking wine and gossiping. Uncle Beau is most likely yelling at the rooster, who always escapes the coop and likes to make noise right outside their window when the sun comes up. Andrew will be doing his morning chores before hockey practice this afternoon. Although, his schedule is going to be different now that the season is getting started.
Then, there’s me, up for a few hours already because I don’t need to sleep. Not when there are new recipes on my mind. It’s something I do far too often. It’s not a big deal to wake up in themiddle of the night and wander down to the kitchen when an idea strikes.
I’ve always loved to experiment in the kitchen. Sometimes it’s a hit, and other times it’s a miss. There’s something special about a kitchen. It feels like the heart of the home. So much love can come from one, regardless of the size.
After a couple of hours, the bread has cooled and I can finally finish packaging and labeling. I load everything into my golf cart to take it to the farm stand at the property gate. Andrew built it for me a couple of months ago after I’d been using an old entertainment center for all of two weeks. I would say I still had the entertainment center, but Aunt Maggie had thisgreatidea to use it for the chickens. I haven’t been brave enough to see what she did. Not that I don’t trust her, I just don’t trust the chickens.
I pull up next to the white and yellow farm stand. Parking close enough to unload everything easily. I have a routine I go through every time. Empty the cash box, flip through the suggestion notebook, then wipe things down. After I load it with fresh baked goods, I replace the rechargeablecamera, flip the sign to open, then take pictures and videos to post to social media.
I like to get an assortment of angles for content. Capturing theFlowers and Floursign and the one showingMiller Cattle Ranch. The sunset mural painted on one side was a recent addition my grandmother added. Beautiful shades of orange and purple cover the background for the longhorn in a field of bluebonnets. In a couple of hours, I’ll drive back over to see what has sold and take updated photos to post.
I’ve been working nonstop for the last two days to make sure it was all ready for the pickup. Each week there seems to be a handful of more preorders than before and I always like there being extras.
“Damn, cousin.”
I look over my shoulder as Andrew steps out of his tan ranch truck. He approaches me, his shaggy red hair blowing in the breeze.
“What are those?” He points to some of my newest creations.
“White chocolate macadamia nut muffins.” I grin and move the empty baskets to the back of my teal golfcart.
“Is that more of your sourdough stuff?” He steps up next to me, hands on his hips, and looks over everything. “Damn, I think this is the most amount of stuff I’ve seen up here. Did you even leave room for Grandma’s flower arrangements?” Andrew laughs.
“Ha.” I roll my eyes. “Of course I did.” I point to the three shelves he added to the stand last week. “I always leave the room. Is your mom bringing more eggs? I noticed they did really well last week.”
“Yeah, she was organizing them in the cartons to look like rainbows or something when I stopped by last night.” He chuckles. “I’m proud of you.” He glances between me and the farm stand. “It’s doing well and people are talking about it.”
Andrew Miles only compliments me when he wants something. His way of buttering me up. I side eye him. “What do you want?”
“Have I told you how much you’re my favorite cousin?” He hooks his arm around my neck and grins a little too big.
I shake my head. “I’m your only cousin.”
“I’m inviting the team over tomorrow for dinner. Nothing fancy, just a little bonding overburgers and card games before the season gets busy. We’ve got a few new players this year. I was hoping you would make those buns you made before. And, you’re invited too.”
“Of course.” I’m sure the team has mixed feelings about all the changes the Bobcats seem to be doing every season. Always new players and getting rid of older ones. I wasn’t privy to all of the moving pieces. It’s not my business.
“You’re the best!” He backs away. “I’ve got to go and see a man about some sheep before practice later.”
“Sheep?”
He laughs as he climbs into his truck. “Some idea Grandpa has. You know how it goes.” He closes the door, then rolls down the window. “Will you make cookies or something too? Okay, thanks. Bye!” He quickly pulls away.
