Ryder sat down in his usual spot at the counter of Pastrami Joe’s, still ticked about the near accident. The red leather stool squeaked beneath him as he read the specials written on the board in colored chalk.
The helix of red, white, and blue stripes out front was original to the first owner of this address, one of the oldest structures in Dalton Mill. Joe had left it as a salute to days gone by even though he could’ve sold the antique for a nice profit.
Ryder remembered when he was just a kid and this place had been crumbling to the point of danger. Even then Joe used to dream of owning the old Barber Shop building someday. It took Joe years to talk the town into selling it to him for next to nothing so he could bring it up to code. He’d done that and more to stabilize the structure and repurpose it.
Now the corner address had impressive character. All three stories had been completely renovated. On the ground floor, Joe had opened the deli like the one his granddaddy had owned up north, and on the second and third floors he’d built out apartments.
It hadn’t taken long for the other merchants on the block to smell the profits. They cleaned up their upper storage levels and turned them into apartments too. The income stream was helping the merchants, and bringing residents to Main Street was breathing new life into the town—an unexpected bonus.
Gladys slid a big plastic cup of sweet tea in front of Ryder. “You look like you’re in a mood today.” Her eyebrows rose, disappearing behind a heavy fringe of dark bangs, and her lips turned down into a frown full of judgment.
“Just distracted. Some Mill Creek Highlands driver about plowed into the side of my truck on my way over here.”
“It wouldn’t have bothered you half as much if it had happened somewhere else, right?”
He took off his ball cap and placed it on his knee. She was right, but he didn’t have to tell her that. “Thank you.” He slid the tea closer and took a sip.
“You never are going to forgive your folks for selling off that land, are you?” Her voice rattled from years of smoking.
“Probably not.” He pushed his hand through his hair, one lock defiantly drooping back over his brow. “I could think of better things to do with that hundred acres than build a neighborhood that would do nothing but bring city slickers to our town.”
“I’m sure you could have, but none of those things would have funded your parents’ golden years. They are living their dream. Traveling the country.” Gladys spread her arms out wide, and Ryder wondered if he was getting ready to hear a bellowing version of “America the Beautiful” out of her.
“I for one am living vicariously through them,” Gladys said. “Everyone around here is. Can’t hate them for that.”
If the constant barrage of postcards was any indication, his parents were having the time of their lives seeing America. “I don’t hate them. I’m just annoyed with the decision.”
He eyed her, hoping she’d give it a rest. He agreed with her. His parents did deserve to live the retired life of their dreams. It was just too bad he and his sister hadn’t been consulted prior to breaking up the family farm.
“Well, honey, unless you think you’re going to figure out how to turn back time that deal is done and there’s no changing it. You being sour about it isn’t hurtin’ anybody but you. Well, and those of us that have to put up with ya.”
Clearly, she counted herself in that group. “I hate change,” Ryder said.
“You always did. I remember when you were just six years—”
“Please don’t tell me a story. I know you mean well, and I love you for it, but I just need a moment.”
Gladys had been a waitress in this town for longer than the forty-some years he’d been alive. When the County Diner shut down she came to work for Joe. Rather than the screen-printed polo shirts he provided his employees, she still wore a dress with a white apron over it. She shouldn’t be pointing fingers at Ryder about disliking change.
“What can I get ya to eat then, Ryder?”
“BLT on whole wheat.”
“Not sourdough?” She pursed her lips, happy with herself over the pun.
He had to laugh too. “Whole wheat will be fine. Thank you. Sorry for my mood.”
“That’s better. You got it.” Gladys pressed an understanding hand to his shoulder before turning away and shouting his order into the kitchen like a drill sergeant.
Reflecting on this morning, it served him right to almost get in an accident being over there by that neighborhood. It was a longer drive the other way, but it kept him from having to face the continued changes on the property that had once been a part of their four-hundred-acre family farm. He and Pop-Pop had ridden those fences every week when he was a kid. Back then Pop-Pop owned it all. He had close to a thousand acres. He ran cattle, and used the rest for hay fields and seasonal crops. It was the multiple revenue streams that had kept the farm going for generations.
Dad wasn’t as interested in farming, and he’d split the land a few times after Pop-Pop passed away. Ryder still owned every square inch Pop-Pop had deeded him, and he’d never sell. He didn’t raise livestock, just a few feeder cattle to put in the freezer and keep the grass manageable between crop rotations, but he still rode the fence line on horseback out of respect to Pop-Pop’s memory. Every time he hit the break where the property had been sold off to build that neighborhood it turned Ryder’s gut.
Riding was his way to get right with God each morning. The daily reminder of losing that land humbled him. He worked hard to get the most out of the land he did have. Giving thanks kept him moving in the right direction.
The front door of the deli opened behind him. “Hey, Ryder. Good to see you, man.” Mark, another lifetime resident of Dalton Mill, made his way to the counter.
“Hey. Thought you were hauling NASCAR merch trailers this week.”
Mark took a seat next to Ryder. “Off this week. Next week we head up north.” He waved to Gladys across the way. “Hey, Gladys. Can I get a patty melt?”
“Sure thing.” Gladys scribbled on a ticket, and slapped it on the cook’s order wheel, giving it a spin before she shouted the order.
Mark tapped his hands on the Formica countertop. “Did you finish Diane’s breakfront? You’re running out of time.”
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’ll have it ready.” Ryder felt sorry for Mark. The guy had crushed on Diane since Mark and Ryder were in junior high. She was headed to college then. Mark moped for months when Diane got engaged. And when Diane’s husband left her, Mark could barely wait to ask her out. Unfortunately, Diane still thought of Mark as her younger brother’s irritating school buddy, and Ryder didn’t think that would ever change.
“She’s going to be surprised. I’d love to see the look on her face.” Mark always made himself available when Diane was involved.
“I still need your help moving it over to her house on her birthday,” Ryder said.
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Come by my place around noon. Reece and Ross are bringing her here for lunch so we can move it in while they’re out. You’ll have to join us for cake. You can bring Caroline if you want.”
Mark twisted in his chair. “Broke up with Caroline last week.”
“Why?” Ryder wondered if the timing of the breakup had anything to do with Diane’s party.
“She’s a nice gal. Just not the one.”
If Mark was still pining away for Diane, he was gonna die old and lonely.
“I saw that property across the way from yours went on the market,” Mark said. “Know anything about it?”
“People from Virginia owned it for years. Pop-Pop said they never took interest in it. Nice piece of land though,” Ryder said. “I was thinking about buying it.”
“You’ve got enough land around here. Can’t you let me snag that one? You could use a good neighbor like me,” Mark said.
“Got that right. Yeah, go for it, but if you change your mind let me know. Don’t want any outsiders buying that property.” Right now Ryder owned more land than anyone in Leafland County. He could trust Mark to hang on to the property. He was a good old Dalton Mill boy through and through.
Joe brought Ryder’s sandwich to the counter himself. “Gladys said you came in mumbling about the new neighbors again.”
“Not my fault they keep doing idiot things,” Ryder said.
“Hey, those idiots are paying my bills.” Joe folded his arms across his black polo. “I’m having my best year ever. I’ve got more customers, and I’m getting better produce at a cheaper price through the farmers market over there. They are doing their part in this town. I’m happy with how things are shaping up. Could’ve been so much worse.”
That struck a personal chord. Ryder’s back teeth ground together. “How do you figure?”
“At least Mill Creek Highlands isn’t filled with die-cut McMansions on postage-stamp lots. Have you seen those neighborhoods? You can’t hardly get your mower between them.” Joe looked at him dead-on, waiting for Ryder to respond, but Ryder held his tongue. Finally, Joe said, “Did you want fries with that?”
Ryder cocked his head, confused at first. “Is that a McMansion joke?”
Mark almost choked on his cola.
Joe let out a raucous yowl like back in their college days, which were long gone now. “Lighten up, man. Seriously,” Joe said. “They could’ve built a dang Walmart there or a distribution center with big rigs hauling down our streets seven days a week and not spending a single dime in our town. Now if that had happened, I’d grumble right along with you.”
“You might not want to hear it, Ryder, but it’s a nice neighborhood,” Mark said. “At least the five-acre-lot restriction limited the number of houses they could build.”
“They all think they’re farmers. And the chickens and goats they try to keep don’t deserve that level of mishandling.” Ryder took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed hard.
“They mean well,” Joe said. “It’s not any worse than 4-H kids learning their way around animals.”
“Yeah, but these adults don’t ask for help. And now the feed store is so busy I can hardly get in and out of there.”
“My point exactly. Because business is good.” Joe shrugged. “Look for the bright side.”
“I’m trying.”
Joe didn’t look convinced. “I know what your problem is, Ryder.” Joe pulled out his phone.
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Yeah, you do. I know what’ll fix it too.” He swiped his finger down the screen. “I’m going to fix you up on a date. Girl I knew in college just moved out this way. She’s real nice.”
“Oh no, you don’t.”
“Take her out to dinner. Flirt a little. That’ll lift your mood.”
He shook his head. “No. Not happening.”
“It’s been a long time. We’re still young,” Joe said. “You can’t brood forever.”
“Who’s brooding?”
“Even Gladys said you need to—”
Ryder’s mouth dropped open. “Am I suddenly the topic of every conversation around here?”
“Only some of them,” Gladys quipped.
“Nothing sudden about it. It’s been, like, ten years.” Joe leveled his gaze.
Ryder shook his head. “Seven.” The word came out sharper than he’d meant.
Mark put a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “Take your time, man.”
“It’s time,” Joe barked. “No one is saying you have to remarry, but you need to get out and have some fun.”
“I get out. Look at me.” Ryder lifted his hands. “I’m here. That’s out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. County fair is next weekend,” he said. “I’ll be there bidding on 4-H calves.”
“Good,” said Joe. “I’ll see you there. Don’t run the price up on our calf though. I plan to have him processed for the restaurant.”
“We’ll see about that. I’d consider that fun. You want me to have fun, right?” Ryder laughed. He couldn’t be angry with Joe. He’d known him a long time and he always meant well. “Maybe I’ll buy that calf your kid raised and donate him back to you as payment for the free therapy session, which, by the way, I don’t need.”
“Bring a big checkbook. I’ve been counseling your cranky butt for as long as I’ve known you.”
“I wasn’t always cranky.”
“No. No, you weren’t.” Joe lifted his chin. “You used to be the happiest guy I knew. We all wanted your life. What you and Valerie had together, that’s more than a lot of us will ever have. Be thankful for that.” Joe rested his forearms on the counter. “You’ll never replace that happiness. I get that, but you can find joy again. It’ll be different, but it’ll be good. You’ll see. You have to live your life. She’d have wanted that. We all want that for you, man.”
Ryder’s jaw clenched. It never got any easier to hear other people tell him what they thought his wife would’ve wanted for him. What made them think for one second that they knew Valerie better than he did? In this case, Joe was right, but it still irked Ryder. “I hear you. Quit your worrying over me. In fact, I’ve got plans today.”
“Sure you do.”
The chime at the door sounded. From the counter stool Ryder watched his niece and nephew parade in. Twins, even in their twenties they were as in sync as they were as toddlers. “There’s my plans now. See. I’ve got a life.”
“I meant besides family.” Joe looked at Mark and then back to Ryder. “You’re one hardheaded somebody.”
“Sorry we’re late, Uncle Ryder—you’re not going to believe what’s going on.” Reece raced over to him and dropped a kiss on his cheek. She turned to Joe. “Hey, Mr. Joe.”
“The usual for you two?” Joe stood.
Ross grabbed a booth, and Reece followed him. “Perfect.”
“I’ll get that right out.” Joe walked back into the kitchen.
Ryder moved his plate to the table and sat down with the twins. Reece had lightened her hair again. He liked it better when it was its natural color, a soft brown that matched Ross’s.
Ryder braced himself. Whenever these two wanted to meet for a meal they were up to something. Was he really more amicable on a full stomach? It was possible. Not that he’d ever deny them anything. Funny they hadn’t figured that out.
The twins glanced nervously between each other, as if each was hoping for the other to start.
Ryder opened his palms on the table. “What’s up?”
Ross bumped his sister’s arm, and she spit it out. “Things are going great at the venue. The Wedding Ranch is getting five-star reviews, and we’ve got more events set up than we projected.” She slid a check in front of Ryder. “Here’s next month’s payment. Early.”
“Good job.” They’d never been late, not once, even in the first months while they were getting on their feet. They’d secretly worked extra jobs to be sure they could pay him as promised. He never let on that he knew, but he appreciated their tenacity. He took the check without looking at it, folded it, and placed it in the pocket of his shirt. “Thank you. I’m really proud of you both.”
He’d had his doubts they could make a living off of planning and hosting weddings in the old barn, but Ross and Reece had proven him wrong. The Wedding Ranch was continually booking events, and these two had been smart about how they spent and reinvested their money.
“We have the best news.” Excitement spilled from Reece in a rush. “We just booked the wedding of Cody Tuggle and Kasey Phillips.”
He tried to place the names. Was one a relative of someone they knew? By the near tears in his niece’s eyes and the gaga grin on Ross’s face he knew it was someone he should know.
Reece’s smile dropped. “I told you he wouldn’t know who they are,” she said to her brother.
Ross leaned in toward Ryder. “You know who they are. The country singer? And the photographer that does all the hot rod and motorcycle photographs. You have one of her calendars—”
“In the barn. Yeah, I knew that name sounded familiar,” Ryder said. He liked a few of Tuggle’s songs too. Valerie had loved his song about a mother’s love. He was a big deal. “A celebrity wedding? Here in Dalton Mill?”
“Yes! At The Wedding Ranch.” Reece rocked forward in her seat. “This is going to put us on the map. We will be hosting all of the parties leading up to the wedding, and the wedding, of course. It’s the biggest project we’ve ever done.”
“Don’t overpromise,” he warned.
“No. We’ve got this.” She crossed her heart in a promise. “There will be a gathering on Tuesday for the bride’s family, a private event for just the wedding party on Wednesday, and a bridesmaid luncheon and a rehearsal dinner on Thursday night. Friday is the ceremony. Reporters will be here and everything.”
Ryder leaned back against the bench seat. “Really? Have you spoken to Sheriff Mansfield about that?”
“Yes. I spoke to him right before we came here,” Ross said. “He’s going to hire a couple of extra people to help with security. We’ve rolled that into the cost of the event.”
“Security?”
“Yeah, the wedding is supposed to be top secret, but if word gets out fans could flock to the area to catch a glimpse of them.”
Ryder cocked his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
A flash of panic crossed Reece’s face. “No, Uncle Ryder, I promise it’ll be okay. This is a game changer for our business.”
“You said business is already good.” He patted his shirt pocket. “I have the check to prove it.”
“Yes, but just one event like this every year, or every other year, will set us for a long, long time.” Reece looked to the tin ceiling with starry eyes. “Girls will dream of getting married at The Wedding Ranch—but it’s not even just that. Cody and Kasey are the nicest people.”
Ross chimed in. “It’s true. Did you ever hear how they met?”
Ryder shook his. “Don’t believe so.”
“They met during a photo shoot, and then Cody showed up to help Kasey find her missing son when everyone else had given up.”
“Her son? He was okay?” A lump formed in Ryder’s throat. A familiar ache.
“Yes. Cody and Kasey became great friends, and now they’re getting married,” Reece said. “It’s like a storybook.”
“That song of Cody’s, ‘A Mother’s Love,’ it was one of Valerie’s favorites.” He could still hear her singing to it—off- key—in the truck.
“I know, Uncle Ryder.” Ross placed his hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “Aunt Valerie would’ve loved Cody and Kasey. They’ve put their hearts and money into a foundation to help others find missing children. The PT Foundation took something horrible and turned the focus toward something good. It’s their life’s work now.”
“Such good people,” Reece agreed. “We want to do this for them. We are ready, Uncle Ryder.”
Ross punched the screen on his iPad and opened a spreadsheet. “I’ve got everything planned out. We’re running it as a single project with multiple timelines and checkpoints since many of the activities overlap. See here.”
“Impressive,” Ryder admitted as he reviewed the spreadsheet. At least those college degrees were being put to good use. Both were business majors, but Reece had a creative side too. She came up with fantastic ways of changing the venue in dramatic ways that didn’t take much time. All of the linens were reversible. She’d designed a system to pull sheer fabric along the ceiling that draped down and could be changed out depending on the event’s color scheme. Reece designed and Ross built storage space in the rafters to store the heavy rolls of fabric close to where they’d be needed.
Reece reminded him of Valerie like that. Valerie had been the visionary, always coming up with ways to streamline the work that needed to be done, which left him to be the worker bee. Ryder had been known to complain about that a time or two, but it appeared Ross was fine with that role.
Ryder’s thoughts were back on what Kasey had gone through and how she and Cody were funneling the tragedy into good works. Valerie would’ve thought of something like that.
“Hey, do you want some pie, Uncle Ryder?” Reece’s dark lashes fluttered over her blue eyes.
“No. I’m good.”
“Oh, well there’s one thing that we need your help with,” she said.
Here we go. “I was wondering what you were buttering me up for.”
“We’re not buttering you up.” She had that wide-eyed innocent look that had twisted his arm a million times over the years. “You’re our biggest investor, what’s suspicious about that?”
He was their only investor. “I know y’all better than you know yourselves. You forget that.”
“Okay, well, the one catch is that we’ve already rented them the cabins at the venue, but that’s not enough. We need something bigger.” Reece visibly swallowed.
Ross completed his sister’s thought. “What we’re saying is, we want to rent your house from you for five days.”
He could almost feel his eyes bugging out in surprise like a cartoon character’s dangling from wobbly springs. That was a big ask.
Before he could open his mouth, Reece interjected. “It’s the only place that is gated and sits back off the road so we can guarantee that if word gets out we’re prepared. We’ve really thought this through. We did a whole FMEA on it.”
“Failure Mode and Effects Analysis?” If nothing else these kids knew how to speak his language. A short stint working for General Electric straight out of college as a Six Sigma Master Black Belt had armed him with invaluable business sense and he’d ingrained those skills into Reece and Ross from a young age.
“Right,” Ross interjected. “And we’ve already priced a cleaning crew for before and after. We will put all of your valuables in the study and Jimmy John can put a lock on that door, original to the era of the house because we know how funny you are about that. We’ll take full responsibility.”
“And where am I supposed to stay during all of this?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Reece said. “Of course, Mom said you could stay with her, but I know that would make you crazy.”
“She knows?” Ryder hated it when his sister kept things from him. She could’ve at least warned him.
“I came up with the idea that you could pull the horse trailer down to the creek and stay there with Thunder. Like a camping trip on—”
“My own property?”
“Or we could send you somewhere,” Ross said. “Where would you want to go? The Bahamas? Mexico? Maybe a cruise.”
“You know me better than that.” Ryder had to admit, camping here on his own land was about the only vacation he was up for. Traveling to parts unknown had never been appealing to him.
“I told him that’s what you’d say.” Reece arched her brow that same way his sister did.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ryder said. “What if something went wrong?”
“It won’t.”
“Famous last words. Have you already signed the contract?”
“No, we wanted to talk with you first. This would be so big for our business. National acclaim. Please, Uncle Ryder…”
Who was he kidding asking those questions? He wasn’t going to say no to them. When they’d come to him asking to lease five acres and the decaying barn on the lower part of the property, he’d thought they were crazy, but he hadn’t said no. And although he thought they’d never be able to renovate that old barn into something beautiful on their shoestring budget, they had. And masterfully so. No, he’d never stand in their way. What they’d built in just a couple of years was remarkable.
“Thunder and I will camp down at the creek during this big week-long shindig. Just a cell phone call away. If something goes wrong, you call me immediately for help. You hear me?”
“Yes! Thank you!” Reece jumped from her seat and practically into his lap.
Ross paused. “You’re saying we should go for it.”
“I think you two already know you should. I’m behind you all the way,” Ryder said.
“Thank you. We are going to make you so proud.”
“You always do,” he said. “Now, I expect my house to be in the same shape I leave it in.”
“We got it,” Ross said.
Reece crossed her heart. “I promise.”
She did the cleaning there once a week anyway. Had since Valerie died. Ryder could do it himself, but he liked her feminine touches and she enjoyed the extra cash.
“What can I do to help?” Ryder asked.
“That’s all we need from you.” She sniffled. “Oh my gosh, Ross. We’re doing it. The event of the year right here in Leafland County. Amazing. We’ll be famous!” She threw her head back. “We’ve got to go, Uncle Ryder. There’s so much to do.” Reece was scooching against her brother, inching him off the edge of the bench to hurry him along. “You understand, right?”
“I do.” He winked, loving their enthusiasm for life. Each feeding off the other’s strengths, they were a superpower together.
His heart warmed, but then that familiar chill hung over him. What would my boy be like now? He’d be eleven, and this conversation would have been so different. Ryder would have been fine getting kicked out of his own house; he and Valerie would have taken Ronnie Dwayne, named after Ryder’s dad, camping at the creek together. Or maybe he would’ve entertained going out of town. They could’ve gone to SeaWorld to see the dolphins. Ronnie Dwayne loved dolphins. If Valerie had suggested it, he’d have done it. He’d have gone anywhere for her.
Life would have been very different if it hadn’t been for a reckless drunk driver one early Sunday morning seven years ago, right after their last goodbye.