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“Thank you.”

Bowen reached over and shook his hand, meeting his searching gaze.

“What do you mean you were in on it—in on what?” Bodhi demanded.

Beck’s mom, Madelyn huffed. “None of you boys have any sense. We were terrified you were going to get yourselves permanently injured or worse. We’d hope you’d grown out of the rodeo, get tired of it, the shine would tarnish, but you just kept winning.”

“It’s a Ballantyne thing,” Bodhi’s mom said proudly.

“So we had brunch at Pasquel’s like we do every month,” Madelyn said.

“And in June we decided that the only way we were going to pry you boys away from the rodeo before one of you was too badly injured or dead was if you all quit together,” Genevieve said.

“And the best way to do that was to list the ranch.” Madelyn smiled.

“Or pretend to.” Bowen’s mom was on her second whiskey and was looking rather smug. The three sisters toasted.

“We thought if we put some serious money and elbow grease into the ranch and called you boys separately, making noise about Dad thinking about selling and being worried about him and listing the ranch, you’d start paying more attention to him and what you had in front of you instead of the mythical rack of points and the adrenaline rush,” Bodhi’s mom said. “I didn’t want Bodhi hurt. I could tell something was wrong, but he’d stopped communicating with me.”

“We wanted to get your attention,” Madelyn added, slipping her arm around her sister.

“You got it,” Beck said. “Scared us to death.”

“You’re very much alive,” Genevieve said. “I was the only one who had any doubt it would work. Bodhi, your ingenuity shocked me, but also your willingness to participate.”

“I sit out nothing.”

“I knew the girls were cooking up something,” Granddad said, looking content. “So I thought I’d follow their play, but when Ash showed up and cooked me dinner looking hangdog and not staying at the ranch, I knew things were drastic and Beck was in trouble. Ashni’s been like a granddaughter to me, so I told her to sit tight and I’d make it right.”

They roasted their marshmallows as they talked, and Bowen’s mom passed out the chocolate and graham crackers.

“You deliberately misled us,” Bodhi said.

“Yes.” Granddad squished his s’more together. “Made a big noise about retiring and moving to Denver and selling the ranch and you boys bought it hook, line, sinker.”

“You’re not even sorry, not even one little bit about deceiving us and worrying us,” Bowen accused.

“Nope.” Ben bit into his s’more and smiled at his long-time friend, Langston’s grandfather, and her father. “Family needs to help each other out,” he said. “The end justifies the means,” Granddad said. “I got my girls home. My grandsons have found love. I’m hoping more than Beck and Ashni will be settling here after the finals.”

“So you played us all,” Bodhi clarified.

“Like a fiddle. Who do you think taught you that competitive spirit?”

“You really had us worried,” Bodhi admitted.

“Good to shake you up. It’s time to come home.”

“It’s good to be home.” Bodhi kicked back and stole a bite of Nico’s s’more.

“You knew, Dad, didn’t you,” Genevieve said, “about Bodhi?”

The circle of people remaining quieted. The energy dipped a little. Lang reached out and touched Bodhi’s knee.

“Dandy,” he mouthed and she slapped him.

“Yeah,” Ben said, sounding sorrowful for the first time. “Spittin’ image of Hunter when he was a boy. His grace, athleticism, charisma, wicked smart intellect. He got the best of both of you. You never wanted to come home much after you passed the bar. It’s not right what you did, Genevieve. Keeping a man’s son from him.”

She looked away.