The Rancher's Homecoming. Anna J. Stewart
for understanding about not coming out.”
“As long as you know any one of us would have been there in a heartbeat.” Jon squeezed his shoulders. “All you had to do was ask.”
There hadn’t been any point in his brothers—and extended family—descending on him. There hadn’t been a memorial service. Maura had donated her body for cancer research and once he’d received her remains, a service felt like moving backward. Not to mention he hadn’t decided what to do with her ashes. Besides, by that time he had an almost three-year-old to focus on and even though he had no doubt Rosie was aware something was wrong, it didn’t change her demands or her needs one iota.
“I had Rosie,” Chance said. “She was all I needed.” His little girl had saved his life. “So who’s this?”
He bent down and offered his hand to the dog, who trotted right over and gave instant approval.
“Trout. My shadow.” Jon chuckled.
“He’s great.” Chance scrubbed his hands into the dog’s fur and earned a friend for life. “Has, um...?” Chance cleared his throat and stood up to retrieve his guitar. “Has there been any word from Big E? Have we located him yet?”
“Nothing new since my last email.” Jon, a father of five-year-old twin girls himself, picked up Rosie’s suitcase without a second glance. “Gotta admit, there’s something that’s been bugging me about this from the start.” Jon scrubbed a hand across his whisker-stubbled chin. “At first I just thought it was Big E being Big E. Disappearing with Zoe like that. Going wherever the wind blows. But abandoning the ranch without making sure it could financially sustain itself, making things ten times more difficult on Katie than they should have been, kicking her to the curb without any warning...?” Jon shook his head. “I think Ben’s right. I think the old man’s finally lost it.”
“I would have thought tossing Zoe out on her, ah, ear, would prove just the opposite,” Chance said. Hearing their grandfather had dumped wife number five on the side of the road outside Las Vegas had seemed like karmic retribution given Zoe’s machinations.
“Ben isn’t exactly objective where Big E is concerned.” As if their lawyer brother and Big E didn’t have enough issues, Zoe had, only weeks before her marriage to their grandfather, been engaged to Ben. Their grandfather had been the culprit behind a lot of shenanigans over the years, but stealing Ben’s fiancée had been the last straw for the Blackwell brothers. You mess with one, you mess with all of them. Or so the family motto was supposed to go.
The sentiment had applied to Ben.
But not, it seemed, to Chance and his dreams.
“Where do you stand on selling the ranch?” Might as well start confirming the information Ty had previously provided.
“Honestly? I’m all for it.” Jon stepped in front of him and opened the front door. “I’ve got my hands full with the JB Bar, Lydia and the girls. I’m not inclined to push to save something Big E can’t be concerned with.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve got soon-to-be sisters-in-law to meet, don’t I? What was it Ty called Lydia? ‘Nanny Fantastic’? Seriously, dude, you’re marrying your girls’ nanny?”
Jon reached out and dragged Chance over the threshold. “You’re darned right I am. And when you meet her at dinner tomorrow night, you’ll understand why.” He moved back to close the door and watched as Chance took in the interior of their childhood home.
“What. The. Ever. Loving—” Chance couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. What he could do was blink. He had to in order to avoid going blind from the neon pinks, blaring whites and glittering silvers sparkling from nearly every inch of the two-story house. Glitter and sparkles and feathers and sequins. There weren’t any memories to be found. Anywhere. “I think I may throw up.”
“We have a special trough outside for that. It’s been bedazzled.” Jon smirked. “Zoe.”
“Yeah, well, who else?” Chance finally found the strength to move, but as he walked from the hall into the dining room, he nearly tripped over his feet. What the heck was that hanging from a ceiling? It was like a Muppet had been mounted as a chandelier. He shivered. This was what nightmares were made of. And he said that as the father of a pink-obsessed four-year-old. Make that four-and-three-quarters. “This might be too much even for Rosie.” At least he hoped so. Otherwise she’d be calling interior decorators once they got back to Los Angeles.
“Do I hear voices?” A young woman poked her head around the corner from the kitchen, her pretty, friendly face alight with curiosity and amusement. “If it isn’t two of the Blackwell brothers. You must be Chance. As you’re the only one I haven’t met yet.” She finished drying her hands on a dish towel and reached out to greet him. “I’m Hadley.”
“Ty wrangled you on to stay in this place, huh?” Chance said, keeping a leery eye out for his twin. “He around?”
“He’ll be back in a couple of days. Went into Bozeman with Ben to talk to a company about adding zip lines to our activities here.” Hadley’s smile was contagious. “And you know what they say. Fall in love with the man, fall in love with the land. As Jon can attest with Lydia. Welcome home.”
“Such as it is,” Chance said, then, seeing Jon’s disapproving look, shifted his attitude. “Nice to meet you, Hadley. Welcome to the family.”
“And such an interesting family it is.” Hadley’s eyes sparkled. “Did I hear you two talking about Big E? Are there plans in motion to finally get all this settled?”
“By ‘all this’ do you mean do we know if we’re going to keep this place, sell it or hope Big E comes back and resumes running it?” Jon asked. “Ah, I don’t know. Have we decided, Chance?”
“I’d like to know all the particulars before I cast my vote.” It was the right thing to say. But it wasn’t what he planned to do. The sooner they unloaded this place, the sooner he could stop worrying about money and being hounded about coming home. Make the break clean, final and profitable. That was his goal. “Ty’s made an initial argument about keeping it. I hear you’re a fan of the place, Hadley?”
“I am. I love it here.” If she was concerned about Chance holding her future in his hands, she didn’t say. “Come on back. I unearthed your mom’s old cookbook a few weeks ago. Just made some of her iced-tea lemonade. You want some?”
Chance’s stomach growled as if it had a memory. “Yeah.” The air whooshed out of him. How many pitchers had he watched her stir and pour in those early years. “Yeah, that would be great.” He followed her as if in some sort of trance. “This isn’t some kind of enhanced manipulation technique, is it?”
Jon jabbed an elbow into his back. Chance grunted.
“Not at all.” If Hadley was offended, she didn’t show it. “I’m trying to work as many Blackwell family elements into the business as possible. Also working on testing some of her recipes for the upcoming weddings. Grace’s mother and I have been going back and forth on choices. And don’t worry.” She set a frosty glass in front of him. “When I’m manipulating you, you’ll know about it.” She grinned before turning away.
“Touché, and noted.” Chance drank eagerly, not realizing how thirsty—or hungry—he was. Which no doubt meant Rosie was as well. The Golden Arches, apple slices and chicken nuggets were a lot of miles ago. “Don’t mean to be obnoxious. Been a long few days.”
“A four-day road trip with a four-year old.” Jon shuddered. “My sympathies. You could have made it easier by flying. One of us could have picked you up.”
“Rosie and I made stops along the way.” Chance took another drink to avoid admitting the truth. Even with the hotel stays and gasoline, it put him ahead in the budgeting department. A budget that would keep them in their house for the next six months. After that...?
“Speaking of Rosie, where