Their Ranch Reunion. Mindy Obenhaus

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      Andrew’s shoulders slumped. Seeing his father meant a trip to the ranch. Something he hadn’t planned to do just yet.

      If he wanted answers, though, it was his only option.

      He maneuvered his truck onto Main Street, past the rows of colorful historic buildings, to continue north of town, beyond the walls of red sandstone, on to the open range. A few minutes later, he passed under the arched metal sign that read Abundant Blessings Ranch. Why his parents had named the place that, he’d never understand. Their lives were far from blessed, working their fingers to the bone with little to nothing to show for it.

      He’d never live like that again.

      Bumping up the gravel drive, he eyed the snow-capped mountains that stretched across the far edge of the property, beyond the river where they used to fish and swim.

      A couple of horses watched him from the corral as he passed the stable. Red with white trim, it was the newest building on Stephens’ land. Apparently the trail rides his father and oldest brother Noah offered during the summer months had been successful. That, in addition to the riding lessons Noah taught, had likely funded the structure.

      The old barn, however, was another story. Closer to the house, the rustic wooden outbuilding had seen better days. The roof sagged, the pens on the outside were missing most of their slats and the ancient shingles were in sore need of replacing. Better yet, someone should just bulldoze the thing and start fresh.

      A task he could easily take care of once they were well into spring. But he’d be back in Denver by then, the proud owner of Magnum Custom Home Builders.

      He pulled alongside his father’s beat-up dually, killed the engine and stepped outside to survey the single-story ranch house.

      Though the sun was warm, a chill sifted through him. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the place looked even worse than it had six months ago when he was here for his grandmother’s funeral. The cedar siding was the darkest he’d ever seen it. The house, along with the large wooden deck that swept across one side, could use a good power-washing. Not that Dad, Noah or his younger brother, Jude, had the time. Before the cancer took its toll, the house had always been Mama’s domain. And with five sons eager to please her, she was never at a loss for help.

      The back door opened then, and Clint Stephens stepped outside, clad in his usual Wrangler jeans and chambray work shirt. “I thought I heard an engine out here.” Smiling, his father started toward the three short steps separating him from Andrew, the heels of his well-worn cowboy boots thudding against the wood.

      “How’s it going, Dad?”

      “It goes.” His father cocked his graying head and peered down at him. “You no longer feel the need to tell your old man when you’re coming back to Ouray?”

      Andrew pushed the mounting guilt aside. “Maybe I wanted to surprise you.” Hands shoved in his pockets, he perched his own booted foot on the bottom step. “I was planning to do some work on Grandma’s house, but it seems she changed her will. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

      “I do. I’m kinda surprised you don’t, though.”

      “Why?”

      “Didn’t you get a copy of the new one?”

      “No, sir.”

      “Hmm...” His father rubbed the gray stubble lining his jaw. “Guess we’d better have a talk, then.” He turned back toward the house. “I just put on a fresh pot of coffee. Care to join me?”

      After toeing out of their boots in the mudroom, they continued into the family room. Though the mottled brown carpet Andrew remembered from his childhood had been replaced with wood laminate flooring, the room still looked much the same with its oversize furniture and wood-burning stove.

      He eyed the large Oriental rug in the middle of the room. Mama had been so tickled when he’d given it to her the Christmas after the new flooring had been put in. Said the rich colors made her simple house feel more grand.

      While his father moved into the kitchen that was more like an extension of the family room, or vice versa, Andrew stood frozen, held captive by the wall of framed photos at the end of the room. Baby pictures of him and his brothers. Graduation photos. Milestones and achievements. There had never been a prouder mama than Mona Stephens.

      Guilt nearly strangled him. He hadn’t even had the respect to be here when she died.

      “You still take it black?”

      Turning, Andrew cleared his throat before addressing his father. “Just like you taught me.”

      The corners of Dad’s mouth twitched. “There’s some roast beef in the fridge.” He motioned with a nod. “Help yourself if you’re hungry.”

      Considering Andrew hadn’t eaten anything since he pulled out of Denver well before sunup...

      He spread mayonnaise on a slice of white bread, recalling his last visit before his mother’s death. Despite chemo treatments, she still had his favorite foods waiting for him. From homemade apple pie to beef stroganoff, the most incredible aromas filled the house.

      He glanced around the dated L-shaped kitchen. This old ranch house would never again smell so good.

      “If you didn’t get a copy of the new will, how’d you find out about the change?” Dad eased into one of the high-backed chairs at the old wooden table near the wall.

      “Carly paid me an unexpected visit.” He picked up his sandwich and joined the old man. “So, what gives? Grandma promised her house to me. I have a copy of her will that proves it. Why’d she make the change?”

      Dad set his stained mug inscribed with #1 Dad atop the table. “Carly meant a lot to Livie. She was a friend, a caretaker and the granddaughter she never had.”

      “Okay, but Carly isn’t family.”

      “Not by blood. But like I said, Livie thought of her as family. They were very good friends, you know.”

      “No. I didn’t know.” Andrew took a bite. Sounded like Carly went to great lengths to worm her way into his grandmother’s life, all to expand her bed-and-breakfast.

      “After Carly lost her husband, she and Livie grew even closer. Your grandmother understood what Carly was going through.”

      Something Carly probably used to her advantage.

      “No one can understand the pain of a young widow better than someone who was also a young widow.” Dad lifted his cup and took another sip of coffee. “That aside, your grandmother had her concerns that you might sell the place.” His gaze settled on Andrew. “Making Carly half owner might have been her way of ensuring that the house remained with someone she loved.”

      “But I’ve always wanted that house. That’s why Grandma left it to me in the first place.” That and the fact that none of his brothers were interested. “I would never consider selling.”

      “You were in Denver, hardly ever came home.”

      Guilt wedged deeper. Even if he’d found the time to come СКАЧАТЬ