Home on the Ranch: Oklahoma Bull Rider

by Christine Wenger

  “The trophy for the most improved rider goes to Mickey Peterson,” Jesse said into the microphone.

  Lori Floyd handed Mickey a trophy. “Would you like to say something, Mickey?”

  “Yes. I want to thank Socks, my mom and my ramrod, Jesse. Camp Care is really awesome.”

  Immediately, Sara began to cry. Loud, obnoxious tears. She pulled out some paper towels from her jeans that she grabbed from the kitchen because she knew she would cry and covered her mouth with them.

  “My mom’s crying.” She heard Mickey say to Jesse. “It’s my fault that she cries.”

  “Well, cowboy, sometimes moms cry when they’re happy, and this is one of those time,” Jesse replied. “She’s happy that you’re talking and are riding Socks.”

  “I love Socks, Jesse. I’m going to miss him.”

  “Mickey, I didn’t tell you this before, but Socks is my horse. He comes from the Beaumont Ranch, and he’s going back there when I go home. I’ll take real good care of him, and I’ll send you pictures. How’s that?”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  That started a new batch of crying for Sara. Jesse was such a great guy.

  The final goodbye to his bunkhouse pals was going to be really tough for Mickey. Saying goodbye to Socks was going to be like moving away from his best buddy.

  Which was just what he was doing.

  * * *

  This was it. Sara and Mickey were packed and ready to go. From what Mickey told her, there had been a massive huddle in Bunkhouse 13 where they all sang Roy Rogers’s “Happy Trails,” led by Jesse. After the song ended, there was no sadness—just a lot of cheering and clapping. Mickey said Jesse shook every wrangler’s hand as they left Bunkhouse 13 to meet their rides back home.

  Mickey and Jesse stopped at Sara’s bunkhouse to pick her up. Then all three of them went to the barn.

  “I’m going to miss you, Socks,” said Mickey, kissing the horse’s great face. His tone was shaky and watery, but he held it together. “Jesse is going to send me your picture, Socks, and I’m going to put it in my room along with our trophy.” Mickey spun around, quickly. “Let’s go, Mom.”

  Jesse walked them to Sara’s car. Mickey got in the back seat with a book. “I’ll wait in here in case you guys want to talk.”

  “Thanks, cowboy,” Jesse said. “But can I give you a handshake first?”

  Mickey shook Jesse’s hand, then it turned into a big hug. Jesse hugged him back. Tears stung Sara’s eyes, but she blinked them back. She didn’t want to do any more crying.

  The car door closed as Mickey slid back in.

  “Sara?”

  “Yes, Jesse?”

  “I’ll call you and figure out how and when we can see each other. Is that okay with you?”

  “Oh, yes!”

  “And maybe someday you and Mickey can visit the Beaumont Ranch,” he said. “And Mickey can visit Socks. Do you think you’d be interested in that?”

  “Jesse, I was hoping you’d ask! And maybe you’d come visit us in Henderson Falls.”

  “New York? Uh...sure. Yes. I’ll come visit.”

  “Jesse, I live in the suburbs in an apartment building. There’s green space all around it and on the side there’s a little park. I’m sure it’s almost like your ranch!”

  They both laughed, and Sara felt better.

  “Then I guess that this is goodbye for now,” he said.

  Jesse, please tell me that you love me. I love you, I really do, she thought.

  But Jesse remained silent, looking up at the sky, looking around the grounds. It seemed that he wanted to get rid of her because he ran out of things to say.

  Her heart felt heavy in her chest. “I’ll see you soon, then,” Sara said keeping her head down, ready for those tears to fall. She walked to the driver’s side of her car, quickly shut the door and hurriedly wiped her eyes. Then she rolled down the window.

  “Do I get a kiss?” Jesse asked, with his head in the window.

  Sara could barely talk, but she put her arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’d better get going, Jesse. Our plane leaves at two o’clock.”

  He stepped back from the car. “Yeah. Sure. Bye.”

  That was it? Sara backed up the car then drove down the gravel road that led to the main road. She kept looking at Jesse in her rearview mirror until he walked away.

  * * *

  Sara quickly settled into her routine at home. She and Mickey decided together which counseling appointments they should keep and which ones they could terminate.

  School started after Labor Day, so Mickey still had a lot of vacation left, but all he did was draw pictures of Socks, talk about horses and look at Sara’s phone, which contained pictures of his time at camp. Then he nagged Sara into printing off the pictures from her cell phone, which she did, on glossy print paper that they bought at the store.

  Jesse had called her once. He had asked Callie to set him up with some kind of program where they could see each other’s “video,” but Callie hadn’t had the time yet because they were hosting an equine therapy program in two weeks.

  Since the conversation between them seemed stilted and unnatural, Sara wasn’t looking forward to any more calls. It wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.

  Maybe he was trying to give her a hint that he was moving on.

  So, she moved on, too. She threw herself into her work at Charles Ryan and Son Appliances. She was happy to be back, but she’d rather be dishing out meals and scrubbing the chuck wagon’s pots and pans.

  It was the evenings, when she was lying in bed and trying to get to sleep that she thought about Jesse—how he looked, how he smiled, how they made love, how they did yoga together, they laughed, they rode horses and they had their own “spot.”

  “Mom! Hey, Mom! Come outside! It’s totally awesome!”

  Mickey probably wanted to show her another sports car in the parking lot outside that he wanted her to ask Junior for. He was convinced that the car from Junior was too old-looking.

  “Mickey, I don’t want to see any more sports cars. I’m folding laundry.”

  Mickey laughed. “It’s not a car, believe me!” And then he was gone. She could hear Mickey shouting, and someone was shouting back.

  She sighed. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” she said to no one there.

  And then she saw a familiar equine shape. The horse was munching on the patch of grass next to her building. Mickey was sitting on top of Socks, grinning from ear to ear.

  Puzzled, she looked around. There was a truck with a horse trailer in the parking lot, with the Beaumont Ranch logo emblazoned on the side.

  Jesse! He was dressed in his usual cowboy attire and holding a huge bouquet.

  She held her breath, and she walked toward him.

  Jesse took a knee. “I can’t live without you, Sara. I think of you constantly, and I feel like half a man. Will you marry me and move to Beaumont? My brothers and I will build us a house. You can work for the ranch with Callie, if you’d like. I need you. I love you. I couldn’t stand it when you drove away from me.”

  “Wait a minute!” Mickey said.

  “Oh, Mickey! I apologize. As the man in the family, I should have asked your permission,” Jesse said, getting up.

  “If you marry my mom, do I get Socks?” Mickey asked.

  Jesse laughed. “Is this a package deal?”

  “You know it.” Mickey kissed the horse’s face, then ran to Jesse and hugged him.

  “Sara, don’t cry,” said Jesse.

  Mickey snorted. “It’s a happy cry. My mom does that all the time. Tell Ramrod Jesse that you’ll marry him, Mom.”

  “I thought you’d never ask! Of course I’ll marry you, Ramrod Jesse!” She sniffed as Jesse handed her the flowers. “I love you, too.
”

  EPILOGUE

  THE BEAUMONT BULLETIN

  BEAUMONT, OKLAHOMA

  The historic Beaumont Ranch was the setting of the marriage of Jesse Daniel Beaumont and Sara Jean Peterson of Henderson Falls, New York, on Saturday, October 2.

  The bride’s father, John Matty, gave the bride away.

  Mr. Michael “Mickey” James Peterson served as the best man for the groom.

  Bridesmaids were Mrs. Amber Beaumont and Mrs. Callie Beaumont. Matron of Honor was Mrs. Donna Weaver of Henderson Falls, New York.

  Groomsmen were the groom’s brothers, Mr. Luke Beaumont and Mr. Reed Beaumont.

  During the reception held in the beautiful gardens on the premises, wedding attendees were treated to the unexpected, early birth of the first child of Amber and Luke Beaumont, a girl, Olivia Rose Beaumont, born in her father’s bedroom in the Beaumont homestead.

  The bride is employed by Beaumont Ranch as an administrative assistant and accountant.

  In November, Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Beaumont will honeymoon in Las Vegas, Nevada, where the groom and his brothers will ride bulls at the Professional Bull Riders World Finals.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Her Favorite Maverick by Christine Rimmer.

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  Her Favorite Maverick

  by Christine Rimmer

  Chapter One

  As Sarah Turner emerged from the tiny back-room office of the former train depot, Vivienne Shuster Dalton glanced up from a worktable covered in fabric swatches, to-do lists, project folders and open sample books.

  “There you are,” said Viv.

  “Just giving it all one more look.” Sarah tried for a light tone, but going over the books yet another time hadn’t changed a thing. The news was not good.

  “Please tell us you’ve found a solution to our problem.”

  If only.

  Viv’s business partner, Caroline Ruth Clifton, stood across the worktable from her. Caroline turned her big dark eyes on Sarah and asked hopefully, “We can swing it, right?”

  The answer was no.

  And for Sarah, whether she was trying to claw her way up the food chain at the biggest accounting firm in Chicago or working in her dad’s little office right here in Rust Creek Falls, Montana, her least favorite part of the job remained the same. She hated telling clients that they were in trouble—especially clients she liked and admired.

  Viv and Caroline were a couple of dynamos. They’d even opened a second location down in Thunder Canyon, Montana. Caroline spent most of her time there.

  And here in Rust Creek Falls, all the brides flocked to the old train depot to get Viv to create their perfect wedding.

  Unfortunately, both the rustic train depot and Viv’s primary local wedding venue—the brick freight house nearby—needed new roofs. All new. They couldn’t just slap a fresh layer of shingles on. Both buildings required tear-outs and rebuilds. Plus, there were structural issues that would have to be addressed. Viv had collected bids. She knew what the work would cost.

  It was a lot.

  And the wedding planners had already stretched every penny to the limit.

  Gently, Sarah laid it out. “I’m sorry. I’ve been over and over the numbers you gave me. The money just isn’t there. You need a loan or an investor.”

  “A loan against what?” Viv was shaking her head. “The buildings and the land belong to Cole’s family.” Her husband, Cole Dalton, was a local rancher. Cole and his large extended family owned a lot of the land in the Rust Creek Falls Valley. “I can’t take a loan against my in-laws’ property. We’re doing great, but, Sarah, you already know it’s all on a shoestring—and frankly, I struck out on my own so that I could do this my way.” Viv’s big green eyes shone with sheer determination. “An investor is going to want a say in how we run things.”

  “Not necessarily. Some investors just want a percentage of—”

  The little bell over the front door cut Sarah off midsentence.

  “Good morning, ladies,” boomed a deep male voice. The imposing figure in the open doorway swept off his black Stetson to reveal a thick head of silver hair. “Maximilian Crawford, at your service.” The man plunked his big hat to his heart. Tall and powerfully built, with a handsome, lived-in face and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache, the guy almost didn’t seem real. He reminded Sarah of a character from one of those old-time TV Westerns. “I’m looking for Vivienne Dalton, the wedding planner,” he announced.

  “I’m Viv.” Viv started to step out from behind the worktable.

  But Maximilian was faster. In five giant strides, he was at her side. He took Viv’s hand and kissed it. “Such a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard great things.” He turned to Caroline, kissed her hand and then took Sarah’s and brushed his mustache across the back of it, too.

  Viv, who’d looked slightly stunned when the older man bowed over her hand, recovered quickly and made introductions. “Maximilian, this is Caroline, my partner, and Sarah Turner, with Falls Mountain Accounting.”

  “So happy to meet you, all three of you—and please call me Max. My sons and I have bought the Ambling A Ranch east of here. We’re newly arrived from the Dallas area, but we have Crawford relatives here in Rust Creek Falls. We’re putting down roots in your fine community.”

  “Welcome to town, Max.” Viv cut to the point. “How can we help you?”

  “I have an important job that needs doing. And, Vivienne, I know you are the one to tackle it.”

  “Well, if it’s a wedding you’re after, you’ve come to the right place. I take it you’re the groom?”

  Max threw back his silver head and let out a booming laugh. “Sorry, Viv. Not me. I’ve had enough of wedded bliss to last me three lifetimes. But my boys are another story. I’ve got six, each one better lookin’ than the one before. Goodhearted, my boys, if a bit skittish on the subject of love and marriage. As we speak, all six are single.” He shook a finger. “You ask me, that goes against the laws of God and man. It’s about time my boys settled down.”

  Caroline wore a puzzled frown. “So, then, what you’re saying is that all six of your sons are engaged?”

  Max let out a low, rueful chuckle. “No, pretty lady. What I’m saying is that my boys need brides. And, Viv, that’s where you come in. I want you and the lovely Caroline here to find each of my boys the perfect woman to marry—for a price, of course. A very nice price.”

 
A silence followed. A long one. Sarah, who’d moved back from the worktable to let the wedding planners do their stuff, couldn’t help wondering if maybe Max Crawford was a few bucking broncs short of a rodeo. And judging by their carefully neutral expressions, Viv and Caroline also had their doubts.

  However, the train depot roofs weren’t going to replace themselves. Viv needed a large infusion of cash, stat. And if Max was for real, cash was exactly what he offered—too bad he was ordering up services Caroline and Viv didn’t provide.

  “But, Max,” Viv said patiently, “we plan weddings. We aren’t matchmakers.”

  “And why not? Matchmaking is an honest, time-honored practice. A lucrative one, too—at least it will be for you, with me as your client.”

  Viv slowly shook her head. “I’m so sorry. But we just don’t—”

  “A million,” Max cut in, bringing a trio of stunned gasps from Viv, Caroline and Sarah, too. Max nodded at Viv. “You heard me right. A million dollars. You find my boys wives and the money is yours.”

  “Max.” Viv let out a weak laugh. “That’s just crazy.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve made my fortune thinking outside the box. And that makes me living, breathing proof that anything can be achieved if you’re willing to make your own rules.”

  Sarah took another step back from the worktable. She couldn’t have disagreed more. Rules mattered. And as much as she would like for Max to be the solution to Viv’s money troubles, fast-talking men were dangerous. Sarah had learned that sad lesson the hard way.

  Viv wasn’t going for it, either. “Are you asking us to set up six arranged marriages? No. Definitely not. Caroline and I could never do that.”

  “Arranged?” Max huffed out a breath. “No way. My boys would never go for that. They’ll choose their own brides. All I’m asking is that you find the perfect woman for each of them.”

  “Right,” Viv scoffed. “Easy peasy.”

  “Love isn’t something you can force.” Caroline added her quiet voice to Viv’s mocking one. “It really does have to develop naturally and—”