Bourbon & Backroads (Lucky Spurs Ranch Book 1), page 29
There are no words for how much I love this man.
“However,” he hedges, the tension in the room notching up, “The seasonal additions to the roster of properties will only take so long, and I have a proposal of my own. I don’t have a fancy book or speech.” He winks at me and interlaces his fingers with mine, squeezing my hand tightly.
“I know the ranch will never be a cattle operation ever again, and I think we’ve all come to terms with that. I also know the ranch is in our blood, it’s who we are as Andersens, and I’d like to share that with other people.” The hope in his voice puffs my chest with pride.
“Months ago, Isabelle was so kind and genuinely curious, that I told her all about the ranch’s history. She asked if I’d ever like to see it return to its former glory. And without hesitation, I told her yes.” He looks over at me softly and smiles.
“I told her I wish other people could experience the property and see how beautiful it is—to feel the peace I feel there.”
I'm bubbling over with anticipation because this moment might change his life.
“With your permission, I'd like to honor Sam’s memory and build several small guest houses on his plot of land. It would increase Swift’s portfolio as well as bring revenue directly to the ranch, depending on how we set things up. We could offer riding lessons, trail rides, equine therapy…I’m more than happy to do all the labor, and Isabelle would be brilliant doing all the design.”
He pauses, dry swallowing. “I think it would make Sam happy to know his land isn’t sitting vacant growing weeds but is making memories for families for years to come.”
His pain is palpable, I know how difficult it is for him to speak about Sam in this manner.
“I’ve talked to Quincy, and I know she already declined the property multiple times, but she genuinely wants us to keep it. She loves the idea and wants us to make the most of what we have left of Sam. Her only condition was that one cabin be armadillo-themed and be named ‘Sam’s Cabin.’”
Every one of us is crying. His dad is the first to break, he huffs a laugh. “Sam and those goddamn armadillos. The weirdest animal a kid could be obsessed with.” He looks to his wife, who's sobbing, but is nodding her head yes.
“Yes. Reid, you have our full permission and support to make this happen. For you, for the company, and for Sam. Anything we have is at your complete disposal. Time off, money, contractors, you name it, and we’ll make it happen. We're so damn proud of you.”
Cecelia joins in and says through tears, “We're so glad you’re happy again. You’ve been lost for so many years.” She turns to Isabelle. “We owe a great deal of thanks to you, for helping him find his way back.”
And with that, we part ways with Reid’s parents and walk out to the truck. We stand in stunned silence letting it all soak in, until I can’t take it anymore and jump into Reid’s arms, whooping and hollering, ecstatic that all our dreams are coming true.
We rain praise and kisses and adoration on each other, soaking in this moment we’ll remember forever.
Reid’s phone rings and he goes stiff. He sets me down to take the call and turns slightly away from me. “This is Reid. Today? Thanks.”
I look at him quizzically, but he doesn’t offer an explanation, looking wooden and uncomfortable.
“Everything ok?” I ask.
“Yep. Yes. Everything is ok. Great actually.” He’s being weird. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s tugging on the collar of his shirt and fidgeting.
“You, uh, are meeting the girls for lunch, right?”
“Yesssss…”
“I need to take care of something. Do you think Olivia could drive you home when you ladies are done this afternoon?” he asks, all twitchy.
“Oh, sure. I know she won’t mind.”
“Great. Awesome. Great. Ok. Let’s get you to the restaurant then.” His words all blur together.
I chuckle. “What's up with you, cowboy? You're acting weird.” He's adorable. It’s like he's broken from all the emotions in the meeting and is glitching like a huge, sexy robot.
“Nothing!” he nearly shouts.
“I have to go take care of, um, something.” He ushers me to the passenger side and practically tosses me in and buckles me up to drive me to the pub.
I'm on cloud nine from my proposal being accepted, and Reid’s surprise proposal of his dream for the ranch. I don’t even care that he’s being weird.
I'm so lucky to be loved by this incredible man, and to be living this crazy life by his side.
55
Even though we're not quite out of winter in the Rocky Mountains, the first hints of spring are in the air. We’ve been insanely busy.
I’ve buried myself in research and design for the expansion. Reid’s been working for what seems like twenty hours per day to fit in all his responsibilities at Swift, his regular ranch chores, helping me with the business expansion, and plotting out the guest houses.
He's beyond tired. He can’t keep this pace for much longer.
As if I summoned him, Reid comes in from the wet snow and shucks out of his wet clothes. Normally I'd already be on my knees in front of him, but he looks like he might fall asleep standing.
I usher him to the bathroom and start the shower to warm his bones. I leave him and return to the kitchen to fix us some dinner. I’m plating the food when my body is enveloped in a full body hug.
“Hey, sugar. Missed you today.” He kisses the top of my head, and my eyes close in bliss like every time he does that. It makes me feel precious.
“Hey, you,” I reply, leaning into his hold. “Ready for dinner?”
We eat and catch up—one of my favorite parts of the day. It’s when we reconnect and sink into the peace of each other's company.
When it’s time for bed, I know Reid is far too tired for sex, but we share far more intimate moments when it’s just the two of us in the comfort of our home, just being. We're still ravenous for each other, but some nights snuggling is just what the doctor ordered.
I run my fingers through his hair and trace the pattern of his facial scar until he falls asleep. When I'm confident he won’t wake until morning, I slip out of bed and check the top shelf of our closet for the gift I’ve been hiding.
Reid is always awake before me to start the chores. He’ll return to wake me up with a kiss, or his mouth between my legs, and then I join him finishing his rounds and say good morning to my ponies.
I don’t care how many times he tells me horses are different than ponies. They're adorable, and I love them, and I like to call them ponies. I shower and take my time dressing and bundle up in my pink work coat and pink-stitched cowboy boots.
I wander out of our cabin and go in search of my boyfriend. I still can’t believe Reid Andersen, my prepubescent crush, is my boyfriend.
Who I live with.
Who does sex to me.
I love my life.
I don’t find him in or around the stables. After a quick peek into the most likely places he'd be, I duck into the main house, so I don’t wake his parents, just in case they're still asleep. I pull out my phone and text him to see where the hell he disappeared to.
Me: Where are you? I can’t find you anywhere.
Reid: Come meet me at the front gate.
Me: Ok?
Reid: Just come, I promise I’ll make it worth the walk.
I would've gone either way, but now that an incentive is on the table, I add a little bit more pep to my step. I crest the small hill, and the front gate comes into view. What I see takes my breath away. The sun is rising, and Reid is standing like every cowgirl’s wet dream beneath the main entrance. Broad shoulders, strong chest, tree trunk legs wrapped in Wranglers, his favorite cowboy boots and my weakness—that damn cowboy hat.
I hurry the rest of the way to him and hug him from behind, running my hands up and down his torso.
“Hey baby.”
“Morning, cowboy,” I tell him when he turns me for a kiss.
The sunrise ricochets inside his kaleidoscope irises. A thousand shades of green, rich browns and gold collide, and I relax into this moment with him.
“I used to feel like my life was split, before my accident and after my accident. It felt like who I was before was gone, and this new version of me was a stranger who I hated. It stayed that way until we lost Sam.” He gently rubs the backs of my hands with his thumbs, reverently tracing my features.
“Then my world was split again, life with Sam, and life without Sam. For five months, I wasn’t alive. My body kept functioning, and I showed up where I was supposed to, but I wasn’t there, you know?”
I nod in agreement—unsure where this is going but committed to re-living these memories with him.
“And then, when I least expected it, my life split one more time.” His eyes flick between mine, looking not at me, but into me.
“On one of the hardest days of my life, I barreled into you, and it rearranged my entire universe. Nothing before that day seemed to matter much anymore. Because I changed irrevocably.”
Hot tears well in my eyes, threatening to breach the barrier of my lashes, and I'm trying fruitlessly not to let my chin tremble.
“There was my mere existence before you, and then there was the explosion of light, color and vibrancy you brought into my life. It was like I was living in black and white, and then you burst into the picture, and I was suddenly living in technicolor. I didn’t know how to handle your light, your energy, your Isabelle-ness.”
I laugh-cry at his sweetness.
“Our beginning was rocky, and I'll work to earn your forgiveness for the rest of our lives,” he promises.
“You have nothing to atone for, cowboy. I love you, grumpiness and all.”
“I know, sugar. I don’t know what I ever did to earn your love. But I'll continue to earn it, every day.”
He walks us back a couple of steps and motions his head for me to look up at the entry gate. I gasp, overtaken with emotion.
“That’s. That’s,” I stammer.
“Yea baby, that’s an exact rendering of the sketch you made for me.” I'm looking at a stunning wood sign, overlayed with laser cut steel, in the design I did for Lucky Spurs Ranch, all those months ago.
“How?” I look at him in wonder. “I couldn’t find the sketch anywhere! I thought it got thrown away.”
He pulls his wallet from the back pocket of those Wranglers that make his ass look oh-so-good, pulling out a folded, worn piece of paper.
He kept my original sketch.
“I think I knew then that I was gone for you, sugar. I took the sketch and tucked it away before anything could happen to it. I’ve carried it with me every day since. I look at it anytime I feel down or discouraged, and your belief in me shines through every pen stroke on the page.”
I look from the paper to the life size replica in complete wonder.
“When were you able to do this? You’ve been so busy with work!”
“Not exactly. I have been busy with work, but I’ve also been busy meeting with the metal artist and getting this installed in time,” he says, tucking the treasured sketch away.
“In time for what?” I can hear my pulse racing in my ears.
“In time for this, right here. This moment with you, right now. I'm the luckiest man in the world. I'm holding the love of my life, the woman of my dreams—on my family’s land, where my story began—beneath a dream that started with me and became a reality with you.”
He gets down on one knee and I cover my face with my hands, the moment hitting me like an avalanche.
“Isabelle Marie Tate—”
I laugh. “Still not my middle name!”
He just winks at me, pure charm.
“Isabelle Hope Tate. Do me the incredible honor of marrying me and becoming my wife. I promise to love you and cherish you until we take our last breaths. You're it for me, sugar. Marry me.”
I nearly knock him over, falling into his arms. “Yes! Yes!”
He laughs into my neck. “You didn’t even let me get the ring out of my pocket. Don’t you want to see it?”
“No! I mean, yes. But no. I don’t care about a fancy ring. I’d marry you with a twist tie around my finger so long as you promised to love me forever.”
He peels me off him and digs into his coat pocket. I kneel in front of him, tears of indescribable joy streaming down my smiling face.
“Sugar, I’m supposed to be the one down on my knees for you.”
“I go wherever you go. I'll always be where you are.”
“As if I’d ever let you stray very far.” He gives me a sexy wink and opens the ring box.
Nestled in white satin is a dainty white gold band inlaid with tiny clear stones with a pear-shaped crystal clear morganite stone, just like my pendant. The necklace I take off only to shower, that I touch anytime I feel nervous or unsettled.
Taking my left hand gently by my fingers, Reid slides the ring onto its forever home.
Reid puts his cowboy hat on my head and helps us both to stand. He sweeps me off my feet and carries me bridal style all the way back to the cabin that we’ve made our home.
We stop in front of the small fireplace, and I see something new. Immaculately preserved and framed is the fully rendered drawing of Lucky Spurs Ranch I gave him for Christmas.
“You have been a busy boy!” Laughter rumbles from his chest, vibrating against my side.
“Along with the sign, I also had to sneak away to get your art framed, and for your engagement ring. I’m sorry I lied about being so busy at work.”
I give him the stink eye for a millisecond before I smack a kiss to his lips and without breaking contact, say, “you’re forgiven” into his mouth.
I remember something and flail to get out of his hold.
“What in the hell are you doing?” He laughs.
“One second! Be right back! Stay right there! Don’t move!” I call over my shoulder as I race to retrieve the item I'm looking for.
Reid
Today is already the best day of my life. My girl just said she’ll marry me. I'm flying high. But still, she finds a way to surprise me. In my hands is a small picture frame, no bigger than a book. Encased in the glass is a dried rose.
“I love it, sugar, but what is it?”
She giggles, and that blush I love colors her cheeks.
“Do you remember on Valentine’s Day—”
I interrupt, “Yes.”
She backhands me in the chest. “Reid!”
I laugh. “I’m just playing, but yes, I remember everything from our first Valentine’s Day.”
I give her a look that tells her I remember everything.
Intimately.
And her pretty blush spreads.
“You had drawn a warm bath for me. On the wooden tray was a glass of ice water, and—”
“A single pink rose.” Of course I remember.
She smiles. “Well, I destroyed that one pulling the petals off playing he loves me, he loves me not, and for your information, you loved me.” She gives me a playful little wiggle.
“I did love you. Knew it for a long while before that day.”
“Well, after you made love to me, and I woke up from the best sleep of my life, I snuck out from under your arm and touched every rose you decorated the living room with. I picked the most perfect one, and I saved it. I pressed it in a book so I could give something to you, from the day you gave me everything.”
I can’t stand even the foot of distance between us, so I gather her in a hug. Speaking into her hair, I say, “Sugar, you’ve got it backwards. You gave me everything that day.”
I grab the hammer and nails from where I hid them after hanging her sketch when I heard her get in the shower this morning. I had to work fast, I hung the frame and hauled ass down to the front gate before she could notice I’d come and gone.
I hang the priceless treasure next to her drawing of Lucky Spurs Ranch. Standing back, I admire our beginning, and our future. Isabelle wraps her arms around my neck and draws me into a mind-blowing kiss.
Pulling away, she tips the brim of my cowboy hat and purrs, "You're about to get so lucky, Mr. Andersen.”
As I carry her to our bedroom to make love to my future wife, I reply, “I'm the lucky one, Mrs. Andersen."
EPILOGUE
It’s the one-year anniversary of Sam’s death, and on the marker of one of the hardest days of my life, I have Isabelle to hold me up—when a year ago, I was desolate and alone.
We hike, hand in hand, to the spot of Whitetail River where we released Sam’s ashes to the wind so he could become one with his favorite place. This year, we invited our extended family-group to honor Sam. It only felt fitting, as the love surrounding him has only grown.
As one huge family, we gather. My parents and James, Greyson and Olivia, Quincy and Connor, Delilah, Isabelle, and me. I know Quincy’s torn up her folks and Lucas couldn’t make it, but we will hold her up.
It’s so different than it was a year ago. Time heals a lot, but sometimes I wonder if some wounds ever truly heal. In a moment of grief, I step away from the group to collect myself.
Isabelle is by my side, not saying a word, just being my person. I know beyond a doubt that as long as I have her, I can make it through anything.
Quincy and my parents are the first to leave. I think Mom could see that Quincy was barely keeping it together, so under the guise of being cold, she wrangled my dad, and they escorted Quincy back to the car.
James, Grey, and Olivia have formed a triangle, talking about I don’t know what. But what I do know is that Greyson’s little sister is standing awfully close to my older brother. And when Greyson isn’t looking, they exchange several heated glances.
I don’t even want to know what that's about.
Grey already told James he’ll kill him if he so much as talks about Olivia again. But my big brother always did have a rebellious streak.
