Page 1 of Home to the Cowboy

Chapter One

Middle of April

Dylan Weston lengthened his stride to catch up with his brother. “Carson, wait a moment, will you?”

With his hand on the door of his truck, Carson turned around, a slight frown pleating his forehead. “What?” he barked.

Dylan’s eyebrows shot up.

Sighing, Carson rubbed his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just …” He motioned toward their cousin Hayden Weston’s home where they’d lately been having their meals.

“Are you having second thoughts about the fact that we’ve moved to The Weston Ranch?” Dylan asked, not quite sure why his younger brother looked so ticked off.

“No, of course not. We both decided we want to start fresh, away from the unhappy memories of the house on The Grayson Ranch. It’s great to be here, it’s just they’re all so … so …”

“Happy?” Dylan grinned.

“It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, I know,” Carson sighed. “I get it, the cousins are all happily married, but geez, I don’t know, I’m not …” Clearly at a loss for words, he shook his head.

Dylan chuckled. “We’re not used to people being nice to each while they’re having their meals.”

“I can’t remember one meal where Mom and Dad weren’t at each other’s throats.”

Dylan touched his brother’s shoulder. “This is a new chapter, remember? When Hayden reached out to us last year, both of us were very excited at the prospect of consolidating the two family ranches that had been split up because of the fight-no-one-talks-about. As co-owners and directors of The Weston Ranch enterprise, we each have our own role to play. You sure you haven’t changed your mind about this?”

“No, it was a good decision. It’s a win-win for all of us. I learn so much from Hayden, and they, in turn, are pleased with our expertise as breeders as well as our knowledge of seedstock production.” He grinned. “And of course I don’t mind having our meals here. Isabella’s cooking is next level.”

“Your house is nearly finished,” Dylan said. “When you move in and can make a mess in your own home, you’ll hopefully feel more settled.”

“We’re not all neat freaks.” Carson chuckled. “No, seriously, I’m glad we’ve decided to move here rather than stay where there were so many sad memories.” He opened the driver’s door. “I’ll probably get used to all the smiling and talking and touching, but man, do they all have to keep kissing their wives all the damn time?”

Laughing, Dylan slapped his brother on the back. “You never know, all this kissing may just rub off on us one of these days.”

Snorting, Carson got in and started his truck. “I’m not ever getting serious about a woman. I’ll see you later. There’s still some of my stuff back at the house on The Grayson Ranch I want to fetch. The hands are moving in tomorrow.”

“See you later.”

With a wave, Carson drove away. Sighing, Dylan watched him until he disappeared around the corner of the house. His brother had always been the more sensitive, more intuitive of the two of them. That was probably the reason why the landscape photographs he took of ranch life and shared on social media were doing so well.

“Everything okay?” Cooper, the youngest of his cousins, had joined him.

“Yeah, no problem. It’s going to take some time to get used to having our meals in a friendly atmosphere. Things were very different in our house.”

Cooper touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Cooper had the uncanny ability to know what was going on in a person’s mind.

Grinning, Dylan looked at him. “I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that you know what I’m thinking.”

Cooper smiled. “You’ll get there. I’m not much of a talker.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“You’re both still hurting. It’ll get better. Come with me? I want to show you something.”

Ten minutes later, Cooper put a small wriggling puppy in Dylan’s hands. “Meet Daisy. My guess is, she’s a boxer and about a month old. I found her next to the road. She’s been to the vet, has all her shots, all she needs now is a loving home.”

For a moment, Dylan was lost for words. Both he and Carson had desperately wanted a dog when they were boys. They’d constantly pleaded with their dad for a puppy, but their mother had refused every time until they’d finally stopped asking.

“I-I—” For some strange reason, he found it difficult to talk. “Thank you,” he managed eventually.