Page 6 of Take a Chance (Blue Creek Ranch #1)

Crew

“ B ase to CH.”

I had to smirk. Mom had decided long ago that it was easier and more accurate to use initials as callsigns.

Since it was her job to keep track of everyone, we didn’t fight her on it.

Even though no one’s name was close enough to be confused with anyone else’s, sometimes reception wasn’t that good and communication was garbled.

Mom was right about one thing; with her callsigns, no one got confused.

I set down the wrench I was using to tighten the new faucet on the kitchen sink, wiped a bead of sweat off my temple, and grabbed the two-way from my belt. I pressed the button. “What’s up, Mom?”

“I have your brand-new employee and his incredibly intelligent son here. We’re having a snack, and then I’ll bring them up.”

I glanced at my watch, realizing it was later than I thought. It was fine. I was basically done here and I was sure Dad was in a similar position. “See you in a bit then.”

“Base out.”

I clipped the two-way back on my belt, finished tightening the faucet, then crawled out from under the sink.

The cabin hadn’t been in bad shape for all that it had been several years since someone had lived here.

Some minor repairs, recaulking the windows, and replacing a few fixtures had brought it up to snuff.

I stood and stretched, then packed away the tools before heading outside.

Dad was finishing up on the porch, such as it was.

Really it was an eight by eight slab of concrete in front of the door.

Over the years, the dirt beneath had settled a bit so we’d had to fill it in and repair one crack.

Since it wasn’t foundational, I wasn’t worried about that section in the corner.

Dad smoothed out the last of it just as I crossed the threshold.

“That should be good in about forty-five minutes,” Dad said, straightening up. There was a reason we used quick-set.

I nodded. “Knowing Mom it’ll be at least that long before they arrive. Her version of snack is more like a meal.”

Dad chuckled, his eyes brimming with affection.

Thirty-five years together and he still loved my mom as hard as he did as a teen.

And that was saying something. After all they’d been through, it spoke volumes.

Everyone said they wouldn’t make it. That getting pregnant at fifteen was a huge mistake and they’d never last. And here they were, more than three decades, ten kids, and a booming business later.

This property had been my parents’ dream.

My dad had always imagined a future here, despite his family’s protestation.

When he and mom started dating in high school, he shared his hopes with her and she was immediately on board.

Jennifer Willis had always been a horse girl so it only made sense that the moment she found out her boyfriend wanted to breed and train quarter horses, she was quick to jump on the dream wagon.

She’d been the one to come up with the name, loving the copious amounts of water that ran through the property and the big blue spruce by the house.

The creeks weren’t blue exactly, but she liked the whimsy.

It had taken them a while to get to the point where they could actually buy it.

And of course, without Gigi Fern’s support, they would never have been able to do it.

But twenty-eight years ago, when the property came up for sale again, Dad quit his job as a trainer at a nearby stable and he and Mom began their adventure.

The house needed a lot of work, and Mom had just given birth to her first set of twins.

Bodhi still remembered living with Gigi Fern, but I’d been two when we moved out here and it was all I’d ever known.

Somehow, with four kids five and under, they’d fixed things up and started their breeding program.

These cabins and the bunkhouse nearby had already been on the property but they’d needed repairs too.

We lost Gigi Fern a year later, suddenly and unexpectedly, to a heart attack.

The grief had caused Mom to go into early labor, and my sister was born at thirty-six weeks.

I remember being scared, because my parents were, and I sort of resented the little squalling infant when they brought her home a week later.

Four-year-old me didn’t understand why she had Gigi Fern’s name either.

Fern was as kind and as selfless as her namesake though, so maybe my parents had been on to something.

Gigi Fern had no living relatives, at least not anyone that she spoke to, and her entire inheritance went to the two people who she supported and took her last name when they married.

Mom and Dad changed Bodhi’s last name at the same time.

It had enraged both sets of biological grandparents, but it didn’t matter anymore.

With Gigi Fern’s fortune, they were able to make necessary repairs and use the funds to grow the business.

“What’s got you ruminating?” Dad asked, wiping his hands clean with a rag.

I waved it away, not wanting to bring it up. We talked about Gigi Fern all the time, but grief was a strange thing and I didn’t want to throw my dad off when he was meeting someone new. Dad could put on his game face in any circumstance, but there was no reason to make it harder.

Russ chose that minute to exit his cabin, on the other side of where we were standing.

Mine was to the east, his to the west, closer to the bunkhouse.

He moved a lot slower these days, but his mind was still sharp.

We all joked Russ had come with the property, and he had indeed been working here when my parents bought it.

Most of the other hands had quit, thinking working for twenty-one-year-olds was ridiculous.

But not Russ. He’d been foreman up until he mostly retired two years ago and I took over.

“You need any help, Mike?”

My dad shook his head. “All done. But if you wanna hang out, you can meet the new guy.”

Russ nodded just once and lowered his bones into the somewhat rickety rocking chair on what passed for his porch.

He still put in a few hours’ work each day, mostly in the barn where we kept the weanlings and yearlings when they weren’t out on pasture.

He was the one who decided when yearlings were ready to be turned out with older horses to learn some manners.

Which reminded me.

“How’s Vivien?”

Russ snorted. “As headstrong as her mama. But she’s settling fine.”

Viven was a big blue roan filly who we’d had to wean a little earlier than we usually liked.

We’d separated them yesterday. She was dragging her dam, Vanessa Redgrave, down and the vet had recommended it.

We’d been planning on breeding Vanessa Redgrave again this season, but she didn’t take.

Usually she was an easy keeper, but her previous foals hadn’t been as big and beefy as Vivien.

After one unsuccessful try, we decided to give her a year off so she could put weight back on.

“Good. Maybe we can turn her out with—”

The sound of a truck had us all turning. A second later, Mal’s truck, pulling a small U-Haul trailer came into view. Mom was riding shotgun and she pointed animatedly, presumably instructing Mal where he should park.

The moment Mal stopped the truck, Mom hopped down holding a large basket.

I didn’t even need to look to know what was in it.

She always made a welcome basket for new employees.

The ones who lived on property—we had six hands in the ten room bunkhouse—got more than employees who commuted.

I wouldn’t be surprised if in addition to the usual branded merchandise there were snacks and other food as well as household items in that basket.

I strode forward, hand outstretched. “Mal, welcome to Blue Creek.”

He shook my hand and though he smiled, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks.”

The little boy clung to his daddy’s legs, and I didn’t know if I should acknowledge him or not. He was clearly shy and I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. But I also didn’t want to ignore him. I stayed where I was but decided to say hi.

“Hey, Tony. How you doin?”

He turned his head so just one eye could see me. His little fingers turned white as he clutched his raven. “Where’s your horse?”

“He’s hanging out with his friends in his pasture today. He needed a day off to eat grass and poop all over.”

My statement had the intended effect in that Tony giggled but he also scrunched up his nose. “That’s gross.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s what animals do, you know?

Can I tell you a secret?” I crouched down to his level, but still kept the distance between us.

Tony seemed to think about that for a second, and then he nodded.

I made my voice conspiratorial. “I hate cleaning it up because you’re right, poop is gross.

But I’m also glad to see it, because that means my animals are eating and healthy. ”

He laughed louder at that, but his expression showed horror too. “I don’t like poop!”

I was sure his voice was louder than he meant, or maybe he didn’t care, but it got everyone’s attention. Mom had to turn her head so she didn’t burst out into laughter, but my dad didn’t hide it. He walked right over.

“Malachi, hello and welcome. I’m Mike.” They shook hands.

“Good to meet you, sir. This is my son, Payton. Er, Tony. He doesn’t like poop.

” His eyes sparked, and for just a second, my breath caught in my lungs.

The weariness faded from his face and he looked a few years younger.

I wondered what it would do for him if he could set that weariness aside completely.

Tony looked up at his father, nose once again wrinkled. “It’s gross, Daddy.”

“So you said,” Mal responded, affection clear in his tone. “That’s why poop is Daddy’s job and not yours.”

Tony cocked his head, causing some hair to flop into his eye. He impatiently brushed it aside. “I don’t have a job.”