Page 90 of The Wedding Ranch
“Family. It was really a minor imposition. I used to hang outdown at the creek all the time. I’m glad the situation forced me to do it again.”
“Me too, else I may have never experienced that. I’d love to go now that the leaves are in their full color. I know it’s gorgeous.”
“It is.”
“You’d do anything for Reece and Ross. I like that about you.”
“When I agreed to let them lease those few acres to start The Wedding Ranch, I promised I’d do whatever I could to help them make it work. It’s not exactly my kind of thing, but they both believe in it so much.”
“That’s really neat.”
“Well, I didn’t think that through very well. I’ve been kicked out of my house, driven horse and buggies, even chauffeured people from the airport in my pickup truck. People want these authentic country, farm, or western weddings, and they are paying big-time for it. My old tractor has spent more time on photo shoots than in the fields the last year.”
“I think it’s nice.” She grabbed a light jacket. “So where do you live then?”
“Not far. Just up the road. Y’all ready?”
“Absolutely.” Lorri grabbed Mister’s leash, but didn’t put it on him.
He jumped right into Ryder’s truck, hanging his head between the seats as Ryder drove out of the neighborhood to the main road. Instead of left toward the venue, he took a right and followed the road around two sharp curves. There was nothing but farmland out in this direction, and she’d only been this waya time or two. He slowed to turn into a driveway between tall stacked stone pillars. Fancy wooden gates parted. As they drove forward they went under a huge timber that spanned the whole driveway. Black iron plates connected them like one of those old Texas ranch entrances.
“It’s like Southfork,” she said, referring to the fancy estate on the showDallasshe’d seen in reruns.
“Hardly. This is rough-cut timbers and working solutions, no high society.”
“It’s beautiful just the same.”
“Thank you.”
The old farmhouse with a wraparound porch stood out bright white against the land. Wooden barns in the hues that only weather and age can create looked warm below the shiny metal roofs.
“You look surprised,” he said.
“Well, I am. I thought you lived at the Rest Stop. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s a far cry from this.”
“My sister, your veterinarian, lives just over there.” He pointed toward a more modern brick home sitting up on the rise. He got out and walked around to her side.
When he opened the door, Mister bounded to the ground. A chicken clucked and called out a frantic squawk as Mister took a leap toward it.
“Mister!” Lorri hopped out and raced in that direction. “No. Bad dog.”
Ryder stood there laughing. “Don’t worry. He’ll figure it out.”
Hopefully, I will too.
Lorri came back out of breath. “I’m so sorry. If he catches one, I promise to replace it.”
“The chickens can get back in the coop if they’re scared. They’ve been chased by far more adept hunters than your house pet. We’ve got coyotes and fox out here. I’m not worried about them in the slightest.”
She seemed to calm down. He ushered her inside and straight into the kitchen. The brick floor told of days gone by, especially in places where it was worn smooth. He liked the history that held. Although the appliances were all brand new, the big fireplace at the far end was his favorite part. Old and reliable. He’d started the fire earlier and the coals glowed hot. He planned to treat Lorri to his famous cast iron cooking tonight.
“The fire is nice,” she said.
“I’m cooking our dinner there. Old cowboy style. Cast iron and Dutch ovens.”
“What’s on our menu?”
He leaned against the kitchen island, gripping the hefty butcher block in his palms, and crossing one boot over the other. “Steaks, and I’m hoping you like them rare.”
