“Looks like you have a friend already.”
Vanessa passed me a muddy, slobber covered tennis ball a second before one of the dogs came loping back. As I threw the ball hard, she squealed with delight.
“And who did you come with, Weber?”
I looked back at him. “With Cyrus and Carolyn, sir.”
“How is she?”
He meant his daughter, since her husband had just taken off on her and all. “I think she’s dealing with it for her boys,” I said as I watched seven-year-old Victoria grab one of the other dog’s ears and pull. “Sweetheart!”
The little girl looked over at me.
“Darlin’, don’t pull on his ears or put your face right up to his, all right?”
“Yes, Weber!” she called back.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said, still holding Vanessa’s hand as I crossed the yard to where her sister was.
Reaching her, I knelt down on one knee so she and I were closer to the same height. “I’m not scoldin’ you, you understand.”
She nodded. “No, I know. You just don’t want Rusty to bite me.”
“That’s right.” I smiled at her as she studied my face.
“Weber, Tristan said I can’t be a fireman. Is that true?”
“No, of course that’s not true. You can be whatever you please.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“Weber,” Vanessa interrupted. “Will you tell grandpa to let me ride the horsey?”
Since the man himself was suddenly right there I told her to ask for herself.
She looked scared.
He squinted down at her.
“Grandpa.” She bit her bottom lip. “Can I ride the black and white horse?”
“Well, I promised the boys that they could ride with me first.”
“But there’s two horses. Can’t Weber ride one?”
He looked at me. “Can you ride?”
“Yessir. What’ve you got, appaloosas?”
“Yes.” He smiled at me.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d love to ride.”
He nodded. “Let’s get all the kids rounded up.”
When I stood up, Vanessa was hanging onto my neck, and Victoria decided she was going to hold my hand, and Pip the other, as I walked over to the tree where Tristan and Micah were. Tristan wanted to ride, but Micah just shook his head.
“You ain’t stuck up there, are ya?” I stared up at him in the tree.
He shook his head.
“You sure you don’t wanna come?”
He nodded.
“All right then.”
We sent Tristan back to the house to call his mother to the backyard to watch over Micah. After a few minutes, the back deck filled with people. Mr. Benning called over to his wife, at least I thought she was his wife (he called her honey so I certainly hoped so), that he was taking the kids riding and would be back.
“And who’s that with you?” A beautiful woman asked, obviously Victoria and Vanessa’s mother—same black hair, same pale blue eyes.
“This is Weber, Cyrus’s friend.”
“Nice to meet you,” she called over to me. “I’m Rachel.”
Oh, perfect Rachel, the sister-in-law. I looked at Carolyn, and she smirked at me. It was nice that we had an inside joke already.
“My girls get attached kind of fast,” Rachel continued.
“Which is real nice, ma’am,” I told her.
Her smile was big and bright before I turned away, her youngest with a death grip around my neck, her oldest with her hand in mine.
As we walked, Mr. Benning told me about his home, the ten acres the house sat on, the stables, how close it was to running trails and riding trails, and how much he loved the Farmer’s Market on Sunday. He was making conversation, and I appreciated it.
The horses were gorgeous, the stable nicer than some of the hotels I had slept in, and Mr. Benning enjoyed watching me saddle the mare I was going to ride. The four kids listened as I talked, and after a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, I had Tristan and Vanessa with me and Mr. Benning the two youngest.
We rode back up toward the house, and everyone waved as we passed by.
“Grandpa,” Tristan called over to him. “Who’s that man standing by Uncle Cyrus?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s a friend of your Uncle Brett’s that he invited up for the weekend.”
“Oh.” Tristan nodded and then turned where he was in front of me to look up at my face. “Uncle Brett and Aunt Rachel, that’s Van and Vicky’s mom and dad, they invite their friends up sometimes to meet Uncle Cyrus.”
“I see.” I smiled at him, the man of the world at eight.
“They didn’t know you were coming along with Cy, Weber,” Mr. Benning said, which was really decent of him.
“Course not,” I said huskily.
“What is it you do, Weber?”
“I’m a ranch hand,” I told him, since that would be the next thing I would be.
“I see.”
I wondered what the blind date did but guessed it was better than out of work drifter, which was why I had thrown out employment that I didn’t have yet when I answered Cy’s father.
“Weber, how come the horse can’t go fast?”
“Because I don’t wanna lose y’all,” I told Tristan.
“Oh.” He seemed disappointed.
When we got back, I showed the kids what we had to do for the horse at the end of a ride, and they watched in rapt attention. As we were walking into the backyard, I saw Cyrus, his mother, the date, Rachel, and the man who I knew now was Brett, her husband, all standing under the tree where Micah still was. Brett was getting ready to scale the tree after his nephew.
“Are you coming down?” I called up to him once I was directly underneath.
He nodded.
“When?”
“He’s scared,” Carolyn told me.
“We’ve been trying to coax him down, get him to let go,” Cy said, putting his hand on my back, “but he just won’t.”
I grunted and noticed that Micah was starting to tremble.
“Cold, ain’t it?”
Another nod.
“Well, if you’re comin’, hurry up,” I grouched at him, holding up my arms. “Just let go. You know I’ll catch ya.”
He rolled sideways and fell from the thick branch twelve feet or so above me, and I caught him
