Wade glances at me. "Ranger?"
"Yeah. The way he responded to you in the pen… You two obviously have a strong bond."
"Been riding him since he was two. Frank taught me to train horses, said it was about trust and consistency. Same principles that apply to everything on a ranch, really." He pauses. "You ride?"
"No. I mean, I went on a trail ride once in high school, but that was just following the horse in front of me in a line. I don't actually know how to ride."
"Might need to learn if you're going to be here regularly. Fastest way to check the back pastures."
Is that an offer? Or just an observation? I can't tell, and I'm too tired to parse Wade's constantly shifting moods.
We reach the main house, and my stomach growls loudly, reminding me I only had airport coffee and a granola bar this morning.
"Who’s cooking?”
"Rhett probably ordered pizza from town. Gets here faster than anyone can cook, and he's too busy with the books to care about impressing anyone." Wade holds the door open. "Don't expect gourmet."
"I expect food. Anything beyond that is a bonus."
The interior of the house is more crowded than this morning. Emma sits at the large dining table, coloring in what appears to be a horse-themed coloring book. Boone's at the kitchen counter, pulling plates from the cabinet. Tucker's on the phone in the corner, speaking in low tones. And Rhett's at the table with his laptop, typing rapidly.
They all look up when we enter.
"You survived!" Emma announces cheerfully. "Daddy said Uncle Wade was going to make you work real hard to see if you'd quit."
"Emma," Tucker says, ending his call. "What did we talk about?"
"Not telling people the secret plans." Emma doesn't look remotely apologetic.
I laugh despite my exhaustion. "It wasn't a secret. Wade told me he was testing me."
"And?" Rhett asks, closing his laptop. "How'd she do?"
"She didn't quit," Wade says, which I think might be the highest praise I'm going to get from him. "Helped with the calf sorting and vaccination. Kept up."
"Told you," Tucker says to someone. Maybe all of them. "Give her a chance to prove herself before writing her off."
Wade doesn't respond, just moves to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. I follow his lead, grateful for the chance to scrub off some of the dirt and grime.
The pizza arrives moments later. Five large boxes from a place called Sal's. It's not fancy, but it's hot and it's food, and right now that's all I need.
We eat around the big table, and I'm struck by the family atmosphere. These men clearly care about each other, tease each other, work together with the kind of shorthand that comes from years of partnership. Emma chatters about her morning, and they all listen like her seven-year-old observations are the most important things in the world.
This is what Frank built. Not just a ranch, but a family. A home for boys who needed one. And I'm about to buy my way into it with money I didn't earn.
The thought sits heavy in my stomach, making the pizza harder to swallow.
"So," Rhett says, grabbing his third slice. "What do you think so far, Sierra? Is this what you expected?"
I consider the question. "Honestly? I don't know what I expected. Something more... organized, maybe? Everything here feels organic. Like it evolved naturally rather than being planned."
"That's because it did," Boone says quietly. "Frank built this place piece by piece, adding what was needed when it was needed. Nothing fancy. Just functional."
"It shows. In a good way." I wipe my hands on a napkin. "Everything has purpose. Nothing's just for show."
"Can't afford 'for show,'" Colt mutters.
"Can't afford much of anything," Wade adds, and the mood at the table shifts slightly.
