I laugh. "You're not wrong." I tip my head to the foreman. "Thanks, Wade. We'll go over the training schedule in the morning."
"Sounds good, boss."
I grab my overnight bag from the truck and make my way toward the house, my boots crunching on the gravel drive. The enormous front door swings open just as I reach for the handle, revealing Oscar with his precisely trimmed gray mustache and trademark impassive expression.
"Welcome home, Master Charlie." His greeting comes out clipped and formal, but the old butler's eyes twinkle with warmth.
"Oscar, you're a sight for sore eyes," I reply, handing over my bag.
Inside, the place smells like polished wood and fresh flowers, with something savory drifting from the kitchen that makesmy stomach rumble. Every surface gleams, the hardwood floors reflect the chandelier light, and fresh wildflowers spill from a vase on the entry table that wasn't there when I left. Through the doorway to my right, I glimpse someone in a white chef's coat moving through the kitchen, and the rich smell of slow-cooked brisket makes my mouth water.
Oscar notices my gaze and allows himself a small smile. "Chef Delany has been preparing your homecoming dinner since this morning. He's quite insistent about proper Texas barbecue." He nods toward the left. "Your grandmother has been wearing a groove in the floor all day. She and Miss Rachel are in the front room." Without another word, he disappears up the grand staircase with my bag.
I follow their voices and find them sitting together on the large brown leather couch, their heads bent together as they study a family photo album spread across their laps. Gran looks perfectly at ease with a throw draped over her lap and reading glasses perched on her nose. Her cheeks have color in them, and there's an energy about her that wasn't there two years ago.
Rachel senses my presence and glances up, a bright smile stretching across her face. "Oh, thank God! He's finally here."
Gran's eagle eyes settle on me, and I watch her slight frame relax into the couch. "It's about time, boy. You had me pacing all day."
"You didn't need to worry, Gran. I was hauling our best breeders, so I was taking it slow and easy." I cross the room and bend to kiss her cheek, breathing in her gardenia perfume. "Everything went fine with the drive and the hands have already unloaded the horses. Then Wade showed me some of the changes they've made to the training facilities since I've been gone."
"You always were the responsible one," she murmurs fondly, patting my hand.
Rachel rolls her eyes with theatrical flair. "And there it is. That took all of thirty seconds."
"You’re just jealous of my awesomeness," I reply, settling into a chair across from them.
"I'm not jealous. I'm just waiting for the day you slip up and join the rest of us mortals."
I snort, waving a dismissive hand. "Don't hold your breath, Brat. You'll turn blue. Everyone knows I'm the good twin."
Rachel throws a decorative pillow at me. I catch it easily and tuck it behind my head, earning a fresh eye roll.
"I don't play favorites," Gran declares with the serene confidence of someone who absolutely plays favorites. "Charles simply causes me less trouble. It's mathematics, not preference, Rachel."
I bite back a grin as Rachel presses a hand to her chest in mock offense. "Less trouble? He just uprooted your entire life and moved you across the country."
"At my request." Gran removes her reading glasses and fixes Rachel with a look. "Charles has been running our family business since he was eighteen, while you were busy running around the country kissing cowboys instead of picking up the phone. I can't tell you the sleepless nights I had."
I stretch out my legs, enjoying the rhythm of their banter. "Quit complaining, Gran. You approve of the result. I saw you and Alice on your first visit to the Freeman Ranch. You two huddled together like generals planning a campaign. I'm still not sure what you were scheming."
"Alice Freeman is a treasure," Gran states firmly. "And we were planning a wedding menu, not scheming, thank you."
"I think it was more gossiping than anything else," Rachel teases. "I heard you two cackling about Mason's rodeo days."
"That was research, dear," Gran corrects. "I needed to know what kind of man my granddaughter was marrying."
Gran turns her attention back to me. "Now then. Tell me how things went in Kentucky. Were there any issues with the closing?"
"It went smooth as silk," I explain. "The buyers didn't negotiate down. The inspections came back clean, and we closed right on schedule. We got exactly what we asked for on the property. It couldn't have gone any better."
Gran's brows rise. "They paid the full asking price with no last-minute games?"
"They didn't even try," I reply. "We were really lucky. The buyers were a young couple from Louisville who'd been looking for an established horse property. They knew what they were getting and were willing to pay for it." I shrug. "Honestly, this was the easiest real estate transaction of my life."
"I don't believe in luck, Charles." There's a gleam in Gran's eye that suggests otherwise. "I believe in proper preparation and fair pricing."
"Well, it certainly paid off. The staging you insisted on added fifty thousand to the final number."
