Their Ranch Reunion. Mindy Obenhaus
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He pulled alongside his father’s beat-up dually, killed the engine and stepped outside to survey the single-story ranch house.
Though the sun was warm, a chill sifted through him. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the place looked even worse than it had six months ago when he was here for his grandmother’s funeral. The cedar siding was the darkest he’d ever seen it. The house, along with the large wooden deck that swept across one side, could use a good power-washing. Not that Dad, Noah or his younger brother, Jude, had the time. Before the cancer took its toll, the house had always been Mama’s domain. And with five sons eager to please her, she was never at a loss for help.
The back door opened then, and Clint Stephens stepped outside, clad in his usual Wrangler jeans and chambray work shirt. “I thought I heard an engine out here.” Smiling, his father started toward the three short steps separating him from Andrew, the heels of his well-worn cowboy boots thudding against the wood.
“How’s it going, Dad?”
“It goes.” His father cocked his graying head and peered down at him. “You no longer feel the need to tell your old man when you’re coming back to Ouray?”
Andrew pushed the mounting guilt aside. “Maybe I wanted to surprise you.” Hands shoved in his pockets, he perched his own booted foot on the bottom step. “I was planning to do some work on Grandma’s house, but it seems she changed her will. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“I do. I’m kinda surprised you don’t, though.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you get a copy of the new one?”
“No, sir.”
“Hmm...” His father rubbed the gray stubble lining his jaw. “Guess we’d better have a talk, then.” He turned back toward the house. “I just put on a fresh pot of coffee. Care to join me?”
After toeing out of their boots in the mudroom, they continued into the family room. Though the mottled brown carpet Andrew remembered from his childhood had been replaced with wood laminate flooring, the room still looked much the same with its oversize furniture and wood-burning stove.
He eyed the large Oriental rug in the middle of the room. Mama had been so tickled when he’d given it to her the Christmas after the new flooring had been put in. Said the rich colors made her simple house feel more grand.
While his father moved into the kitchen that was more like an extension of the family room, or vice versa, Andrew stood frozen, held captive by the wall of framed photos at the end of the room. Baby pictures of him and his brothers. Graduation photos. Milestones and achievements. There had never been a prouder mama than Mona Stephens.
Guilt nearly strangled him. He hadn’t even had the respect to be here when she died.
“You still take it black?”
Turning, Andrew cleared his throat before addressing his father. “Just like you taught me.”
The corners of Dad’s mouth twitched. “There’s some roast beef in the fridge.” He motioned with a nod. “Help yourself if you’re hungry.”
Considering Andrew hadn’t eaten anything since he pulled out of Denver well before sunup...
He spread mayonnaise on a slice of white bread, recalling his last visit before his mother’s death. Despite chemo treatments, she still had his favorite foods waiting for him. From homemade apple pie to beef stroganoff, the most incredible aromas filled the house.
He glanced around the dated L-shaped kitchen. This old ranch house would never again smell so good.
“If you didn’t get a copy of the new will, how’d you find out about the change?” Dad eased into one of the high-backed chairs at the old wooden table near the wall.
“Carly paid me an unexpected visit.” He picked up his sandwich and joined the old man. “So, what gives? Grandma promised her house to me. I have a copy of her will that proves it. Why’d she make the change?”
Dad set his stained mug inscribed with #1 Dad atop the table. “Carly meant a lot to Livie. She was a friend, a caretaker and the granddaughter she never had.”
“Okay, but Carly isn’t family.”
“Not by blood. But like I said, Livie thought of her as family. They were very good friends, you know.”
“No. I didn’t know.” Andrew took a bite. Sounded like Carly went to great lengths to worm her way into his grandmother’s life, all to expand her bed-and-breakfast.
“After Carly lost her husband, she and Livie grew even closer. Your grandmother understood what Carly was going through.”
Something Carly probably used to her advantage.
“No one can understand the pain of a young widow better than someone who was also a young widow.” Dad lifted his cup and took another sip of coffee. “That aside, your grandmother had her concerns that you might sell the place.” His gaze settled on Andrew. “Making Carly half owner might have been her way of ensuring that the house remained with someone she loved.”
“But I’ve always wanted that house. That’s why Grandma left it to me in the first place.” That and the fact that none of his brothers were interested. “I would never consider selling.”
“You were in Denver, hardly ever came home.”
Guilt wedged deeper. Even if he’d found the time to come back, he wasn’t sure he could face the judgmental looks he was bound to receive from his brothers. As though he’d betrayed them for not getting here before Mama died.
“What are you planning to do with the house, anyway, son?”
His appetite waning, Andrew wrapped his suddenly cold fingers around the hot cup his father had given him. “Open up the bottom floor, add an extra bath, update the kitchen... I was hoping to have it ready by the high season to use as a rental.”
“Sounds like quite an undertaking.”
Andrew shrugged, still suspicious of the relationship between his grandmother and Carly. “You know, Carly mentioned something about wanting to expand Granger House Inn. You don’t suppose she shared those plans with Grandma in hopes of getting her hands on that house, do you? I mean, it is right next door.”
His father’s brow furrowed. “It’s possible she made mention of it. But Carly’s not the scheming type. You know that.”
Did he?
“Apparently she’s pretty determined,” Andrew said, “because she offered to buy my half of Grandma’s house.”
Lips pursed, Dad nodded in a matter-of-fact manner. “You gonna take her up on it?”
“No.” Andrew shoved his sandwich aside. “What was Grandma thinking?”
Dad chuckled, lifting his cup. “Doesn’t really matter, son. You and Carly are just going to have to find a way to work it out.”
“Yes, we do have an opening for Easter weekend.” Sitting at her kitchen table that afternoon, Carly settled the phone between her ear and shoulder, grateful for the distraction. Her mind had been reeling ever since her encounter with Andrew.
She brought up the reservations page on her laptop. “The Hayden Room is available. It has a queen-size bed, a private bathroom and a spectacular view of Hayden Mountain.”
“Oh, yes. I think I saw that one on your website.” Excitement laced the female caller’s tone. “It’s beautiful.”
Carly couldn’t help smiling. Actually, all of their guest rooms were on the website. Something that had garnered Granger