THEY PULLED INTO the Bradford Ranch around six that night and even though he wasn’t a fan of Woodsville, he loved the ranch. He inhaled a deep breath of the cleansing country air, taking in the faint scent of horses in the barn and cattle in the field, and something inside his chest loosened.
“This is gorgeous,” CoCo admitted, taking in the huge rolling hills and the pretty, lazy creek carving its way through the green valleys. The setting sun bathed the hills in red and orange, setting a halo of light behind CoCo’s head, and Rian had to look away before she realized he was staring too hard. Even hungover with dark circles under her eyes, hair in a tangle, she was breathtaking. It didn’t help that he remembered with excruciating detail how luscious that body was beneath her jean shorts and top. “How many acres?” she asked.
“More than four hundred,” he answered, grabbing their luggage from the bed of the truck. “It’s a nice spread. Big enough to give enough space and small enough to manage.”
“Four hundred acres is not small by any stretch of the imagination,” she corrected him with a small smile. “And the air is so clean. Reminds me of my dad’s country home in Italy. So pretty and peaceful.”
“Yep. Well, until you meet Warren’s fossil of a dog, Dundee. I don’t even know how he’s still alive. Watch out if he stakes a claim at your feet. That dog has gas that could kill an elephant.”
She laughed. “Thanks for the warning. Does your brother know we’re coming?”
“He will once he listens to his voice mail. He and Laci are in Montana for a few weeks and the cell service is spotty. But he already offered up his place so we’re good.” He pointed at the beautiful farmhouse-style home to the left of the main house and said, “That’s where we’ll be staying. Laci got it in her head to build a replica of the original farmhouse and so, here you go. Nostalgia and modern convenience married up and created a five-star experience. I think you’ll like it.”
“It’s amazing,” she agreed as they walked toward the house. “And you’re sure they won’t mind?”
“It’s fine.” He plucked the spare key from under the pump where Kane told him it would be and handed it to her. “You go ahead and get situated. I’m going to let Warren know we’re here so he doesn’t come shooting in the dark when he hears us moving around outside.”
She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not and, given the fact that she’d just been shot at, he realized too late that joke was probably too soon, but she lifted her chin and trudged forward like a trouper and a spurt of pride followed. She was a tough cookie. He liked that about her. Hell, if he were being honest, he was starting to like a lot of things about her. Was he on a mission to totally screw up his life? If he kept up with thoughts like that, it would seem so. He headed for the main house and after a quick knock, he entered, immediately assaulted by the smells from the pleasant part of his childhood. Cora had always filled her house with the scent of baking. To this day he couldn’t walk past a bakery without thinking of her and how she’d fattened him and Kane up as if it were her God-given duty to save them from starvation. Maybe it had been. He walked into the house through the kitchen and found Cora’s dearest friend and bridge buddy, Adeline, cleaning up, a warm smile wreathing her plump face when she saw him.
“Well, look at who’s here, Warren. You come here and give me some sugar,” she instructed him with a happy grin. Adeline and Warren had gotten closer after Cora passed and it was a relationship that everyone supported because Adeline, who was a lot like Cora, was a perfect fit for Warren. “Why didn’t you call? I could’ve whipped up something nice.”
“Don’t go to any trouble, Adeline,” he said, wrapping the old gal in a hug. “Just here for a few days. How are you?”
“Can’t complain. The Lord is good to us, for certain. Warren had a bit of a stomach bug last week but he’s right as rain now.” Right on cue, Warren entered the kitchen with a frown but otherwise looked as he always did.
“Woman, don’t go sharing details like that. No one needs to know about my stomach bug,” he groused but Adeline, much like Cora, never took offense at his gruff style and simply waved a dish towel at him with a wink. Warren, still hale and hearty in spite of his age, clasped Rian’s hand in a firm handshake just as he’d taught both Dalton boys. A man had only one chance to make a first impression, he’d told them, and that started with a firm, manly handshake. No one liked a limp handshake. Couldn’t trust a man who shook like that. Surprisingly, Rian had discovered that advice was pretty spot-on. “You look good, son. What brings you home?”
Home. A warm feeling filled his gut and he smiled. It felt good to be loved by this man. If only life had seen fit to give the Dalton boys to the Bradfords from the start. Imagine how their lives would’ve turned out different. Not that he was complaining, but he’d lied to CoCo. Sometimes he thought of the past and the bad memories always knocked the wind from his lungs. “You look pretty good yourself. I see Adeline is keeping you healthy with her Southern cooking.”
“You flatter me,” Adeline tittered but was already bustling around fixing him a plate of fried chicken left over from their supper. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” he said, grinning. “But would it be too much trouble to fix up two plates?”
That stopped Adeline. “Two? Did you bring a friend? Do you have a lady out there?” The hope in her voice was too much and he laughed.
“Sort of. I mean, yes. But she’s a client. We’re holing up here for a few days to get off the grid. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is,” Warren said. “You never have to ask.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. We’ll stay out of your hair, I promise. In the meantime, I can help out with the chores if you like.”
“I never turn away good help,” Warren said, grinning. “Now eat up and get settled and we can chat in the morning. You good with a 5:00 a.m. wake-up?”
“I love that nothing ever changes around here,” Rian said, though he was groaning privately at such an early wake-up. That was the one thing about ranch life that he didn’t quite miss. Although a Kentucky sunrise was something to see. At least there was that. “See you bright and early.”
“Good to have you, son,” Warren said with genuine affection and then, after snagging a fresh cookie, returned to the living room, to read the paper, no doubt.
Rian turned to Adeline, who had already fixed up two plates and said, “Now, don’t think that you’re going to get away with not bringing that young lady over here to meet us. I don’t care if she’s a client or a lady friend, that’s just Southern hospitality and you know it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Dinner tomorrow night?”
There was no point in refusing. “Of course. Should we bring anything?”
“Just yourselves.” Adeline’s sunny smile was as sweet as Cora’s pies ever were. Seeing Adeline made him miss Cora all the more. She caught his momentary falter and her expression softened. “Everything okay?”
“I was just thinking of Cora. Still miss her.”
“We all do, honey. We all do. You can’t know a woman like Cora and not feel the cold when she’s gone, that’s a fact.”
He loved that Adeline understood and didn’t feel threatened by their love for Cora. He’d always believed that God broke the mold after He’d made Cora but then he realized shortly after Cora’s funeral that He’d actually made a spare with Adeline. He hefted the stacked plates covered in tin foil in his hand. “Thanks for this. I’m starved and this is going to hit the spot.”
“Oh, go on with you. It’s just fried chicken and some mashed potatoes. It’ll stick to your ribs good, though.”
He leaned over and kissed Adeline’s cheek. “Perfect for a country boy like me,” he said with a grin and she giggled with pleasure. Yep, so much like Cora it made his heart happy and sad at the same time. “See you tomorrow.”
Adeline waved and returned to cleaning up the kitchen while Rian walked the short distance to Kane and Laci’s house. He found CoCo thumbing through a photo album from Kane and Laci’s wedding. “I got some food, courtesy of Adeline and Warren. Don’t worry, you’ll meet them tomorrow over supper.” He set the plates on the table and walked over to CoCo to peer over her shoulder at the pictures. There was a picture of Rian and Kane, linked arm in arm, dressed in their tuxedos, grinning for the camera with plump cigars in their mouths. “Good times,” he noted with a grin. “Hungry?”
She closed the album. “Starved. What do you have?”
He pulled the tin foil away from the plates. “Good old-fashioned, stick-to-your-ribs country cooking. It’s made with butter, cream and all sorts of things that will make most LA girls run away for fear of putting on a pound or two, but it’s going to taste like heaven in your mouth.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m only half LA girl and the other half is pure Italian, and my Italian side likes to eat.” She took a seat and pulled her plate toward her for an exploratory sniff, then groaned. “Smells amazing. Fork?”
He found two forks and handed one to her, took a seat opposite her and tucked into his own plate. “Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff. There’s nothing like Southern cooking. I’ve traveled the world but there’s no place that can do comfort food like our Southern gals.”
“It’s pretty good,” CoCo agreed around a mouthful. “Damn, those LA girls don’t know what they’re missing.”
He laughed, enjoying the fact that CoCo wasn’t throwing a fit over a plate of fattening food. He loved the way she made no apologies for digging in as a man would. He rather liked the Italian side of her. What did she call it? Passionate. Italian women were passionate. He liked it. He liked it a lot.