He barks out a laugh that makes me grin at him. Dad’s got his arms crossed and keeps peeking over our shoulders while we work on turning the bedroom downstairs into a suite for him and Mom.
Reese, Camden, Knox, and I all took Friday off to get started. We won’t be completely done by the end of the weekend, but it’ll be close. Dad’s complained no less than ten times since this morning about not needing us to go to all this trouble.
We’ve ignored him every time. He even tried to persuade Knox to leave it alone. Knox just gave him a bland look, and Dad finally gave up, mumbling something about raising a bunch of stubborn boys.
I caught the little smile Knox had on his face after Dadleft. He’d deny it immediately, but I know he loves being considered one of Dad’s sons.
Years ago, after one of the rodeos Knox won, I invited him out to our farm to celebrate. His dad was really shitty, and I somehow convinced him to stay with us for a bit. Once Mom and Dad heard about his home life, they basically never let him leave.
Then, Knox’s Dad died in a gruesome tractor accident right after we graduated, leaving the ranch to Knox. Dad encouraged Knox to stay with us until he felt confident he could run the inherited land on his own.
We’re all really proud of what he’s turned that place into. It’s a profitable ranch on its own, but he’s got rentable cabins and even offers guided horseback tours in the summer. He mostly handles the farm and has employees who manage the tourist stuff. With his surly attitude, I doubt many tourists would stick around for long.
“How’s it going in here?” Mom asks, peeking her head around the doorway.
“It’s just fine, Mom. Like it was ten minutes ago,” Camden quips.
“I was going to offer you boys some lemonade and lunch, but now I won’t for that comment.”
“Way to go, Cam,” I grumble, while my stomach protests its emptiness. Mom’s lemonade is the best, and she rarely makes it anymore because she squeezes fresh lemons for it. I also have a feeling Dad made his sandwich bread for us, and I’d do just about anything for some of it.
“Aw. I was just teasin’, Mom. I’m sorry.” He gives her his patented puppy dog face.
“I’ll forgive you if you can convince Reese to build me some new furniture.”
Cam whips his head toward Reese and sticks his lip out. Reese gives him a deadpan expression, so Cam ups his poutingto include his clasped fingers tucked under his chin. “Please, Reesy? It’s for the good of the group.”
Reese narrows his eyes before sighing and nodding his head. “You’ll owe me.”
“Whatever you want. I swear it.”
Reese grunts. “Find some pictures of what you want, Mom. I’ll get started on it.”
Mom presses a kiss to his cheek as he walks past her out the door. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
He gives her a soft smile. I have a feeling he’d already been planning to make them new furniture. He’d have quietly put it into their room without them knowing and then brushed off any commentary on the subject. We’ve all told him he should sell the pieces he makes, but he acts like he wouldn’t make a penny from them. He also says it takes the fun out of it if he’s trying to make money, which is understandable.
We gather around the kitchen island. There’s a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies in the center next to a plate of sandwiches. Cam grabs a stack of cookies, handing half to Reese before they fill their plates. Knox and I dig in too, scarfing down food. I hadn’t noticed I was starving until Mom mentioned food.
“Did I hear right that someone bought that old place out by your farm, Knox?” Mom asks.
He grunts. “Whoever did is an idiot. That place barely has running water.”
“Do you know who it was?” I ask.
Knox shakes his head. “No idea.”
“You should bring them a plate of your cookies. They’d probably like that,” Mom suggests.
The four of us look at her for a long moment before we crack up laughing.
She frowns. “What?”
“Mom, I love you, but Knox wouldn’t even share a cup ofsugar if they came askin’, let alone bake them something,” I tell her.
“Now that’s just not true. Our Knox is the sweetest soul.”
We crack up laughing again. Knox has a soft look on his face. He only looks at her and Finn that way. “Holt’s right, Mrs. Basil. I’d more likely run them off if they came knocking on my door.”
