But to RJ, it always felt like one place she could relax.
Even hide.
“What river is that?” York pointed to a lazy silver thread that wove through the foothills.
“The Geraldine River. There’s a falls that you can see from a point behind the house. We used to swim in it.”
“Is that the river—”
“The one with the cave where Ford and I got lost? Yes.”
York trimmed his mouth into a thin line. “A lot of memories here.”
“Most of them good,” she said. She pulled up to the Triple M Ranch gate sign cast in iron and hanging between two soaring log braces.
“I’ll get it,” York said and got out before she could stop him. He unhooked the gate, opened it, and waited as she passed through. Then he relatched it and got in.
“You’re a regular cowboy.”
“Please. I’d fall right off a horse.” But he smiled.
Oh, how she liked it when he smiled.
The ranch house came into sight as she topped the first hill. It sat in the notch of a second hill, a dark log-sided, two-story house with a stone front porch. Her mother’s flowerpots, flanking the red door, boasted orange and red chrysanthemums, and blankets hung over the two rocking chairs. Almost as if waiting for her.
“This is gorgeous, RJ.”
“You forget about it when you’re gone, but yeah. Every time I drive up here I realize what I have to come home to.”
He reached over and took her hand, squeezing.
Such an odd, affectionate gesture for York, but perhaps not for Mack.
She rather liked this new, merged version.
She parked near the barn, noticing the unpainted new wood on the back where Reuben had rebuilt it after the fire earlier this year. And in the corral, Gordo, Knox’s prize bull, watched with glassy dark eyes as she got out of the rental.
A couple of baby goats ran out of the barn.
“Catch them, RJ!”
The voice accompanied her brother Reuben, who barreled out after the two bony goats. He wore a pair of jeans, work boots, a grimy flannel shirt, and a baseball hat.
York scooped one up, held it in his arms.
Reuben caught up with the other and slung it up on his hip. “These rascals are forever escaping. Hey, sis.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Reuben was the tallest, the oldest, and the one she knew least. He’d left the ranch before she was even a teenager, and before then, he spent most of his time playing football or hanging out with their father, learning the ropes. She barely remembered the infamous family fight that had driven him away but clearly remembered his return and the day he made amends with Knox.
Set Knox free to pursue his dreams.
It seemed that maybe Reuben, too, had found his happy place, tending the ranch, his wife, Gilly, expecting their first child.
He turned to York. “Hey. I’m Reuben. You must be the man RJ calls 007.”
York offered a feeble chuckle. “York.” He met Reuben’s outstretched hand.
“I guess you’re here for the big party,” he said.
RJ laughed. “If you mean Tate and Glo’s impromptu, I-have-to-marry-her-now wedding, then yes.”
Reuben stared at her. “Uh…” He glanced at the house.
“What?”
“So, you’d better talk to Ma.”
She frowned, and Reuben reached for the other goat. “Good to meet you, York.”
York fetched his duffel bag and RJ’s suitcase from the back seat and followed her in.
She always equated the ranch house with the smell of chocolate chip cookies, scones, and baked bread.
Her mother didn’t disappoint. The smell of cinnamon rolls beckoned her inside as she opened the door, and she spotted her mother standing at the large granite kitchen counter, oven mitts in hand, talking with Coco, who sat on one of the high top stools.
“Wow,” York said, following her in, and she guessed he meant the soaring two-story stone fireplace, the polished logs, the deep, worn leather furniture, and the magazine-perfect view of the mountains through the two flanking windows. “You guys don’t do small, do you?”
“RJ!” Her mother set her mitts down and came around the counter with her arms open. “I didn’t expect you two so soon.”
Gerri pulled her into a hug. “You okay?”
She nodded, not sure exactly how to tell her mother about the events in Vegas.
“Did you find the man you were looking for?” Her mother pulled away, glanced at her, then York. “Where’s Tate?”
“Yes and no, and he’s with Glo. And he’s on his way here. Didn’t he call you?”
She shook her head as she reached for York. His eyebrows went up as he hugged her.
RJ shrugged. Maybe she should have warned him, but he’d get used to it. Her mother adopted everyone.
“He’s coming here with Glo. I think they’re hoping to get married this weekend.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Oh dear.”
“What?”
The oven timer buzzed and her mother returned to the counter and picked up her mitts. RJ walked over and hugged Coco.
“When did you get here?”
“Yesterday. We left right after you all did. Wyatt wanted Mikka to see the ranch and get some fresh air, and…well, I guess our timing is perfect because…um…” She looked at Gerri.
She pulled a tray of rolls out of the oven and now set them on a rack to cool.
“Kelsey and Knox eloped.”
“What?”
“Yes. They called, and they’re on their way, and we’re having a family party this weekend.”
Oh.
“Tate didn’t even call?” RJ slid onto a stool. Her mother was right. “Oh boy.”
“What’s going on, honey?” her mother said, loading another tray of risen rolls into the oven.
“Oh, Tate is so in the doghouse. He was supposed to invite you to his wedding next weekend.”
“Next weekend?” Her mother looked at Coco, who had drawn up one leg and now shrugged.
“But after he was shot in Vegas, Glo completely freaked out and he had to fly down there and calm her down. And he figured the only way to do that was to get married, immediately. But he doesn’t want to do it in Nashville, so he’s bringing her back here.”
Her mother just stared at her.
York set his hand on RJ’s shoulder. “He’s fine, Gerri.”
Oh. Whoops. She’d blown right by that first sentence.
Her mother drew in a breath. “How bad is it?”
“It was just a graze on his arm. York glued it shut,” RJ said.
“Glued.”
Wyatt had shown up, carrying Mikka over his shoulder. “It’s a great way to mend wounds on the fly. My coaches used to do it all the time.” The little boy was all smiles, despite being pale and thin. “We’re going out to the barn to chase baby goats,” Wyatt said. “But maybe we should just have one big wedding. What do you think, Coco?”
Coco’s eyes widened and she looked like he might have suggested they skydive. “What—this weekend?”
“Why not? A big Marshall family wedding.”
“Go away, Wyatt,” his mother said.
“What?”
Coco had blushed as Wyatt bounced Mikka out of the house.