Page 29 of Balancing Act

We celebrated by grabbing s’mores cupcakes from Campfire Bakery and decided to stop by Gray's ranch with a thank you gift—an assortment of freshly baked cookies. Zaya and Enzo insisted on staying in the car, something about not wanting to interrupt my chance at roping a cowboy.

They were ridiculous, but nonetheless, I was on my own as I balanced the box in one arm and knocked on the front door of the main ranch house.

“Ain’t no one in there during the day,” a deep voice called from the side of the house. A tall, dark haired, well-muscled man in dirty jeans and a cowboy hat came walking toward me. His plaid shirt was wet with sweat and the top two buttons were open, displaying a peek at his tanned, glistening chest.

Damn, they really grew them right out here in Montana.

“Oh, of course. Sorry.”

He sidled up to me and I finally recognized him as the other man with Gray at the diner.

“No worries at all. I’m Mason.”

“That’s right. I remember you.”

He put his hand over his heart. “I’m honored, ma’am,” he said with a wink.

“I’m Eryn.” I stuck out my free hand.

He shook my hand in a firm grip. “Oh I certainly know who you are, Miss Eryn. It’s a privilege to have you visit our little ranch.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it little,” I said, looking around at the expanse of land.

“Well, it’s not, but I suppose that’s all relative.”

“Fair point.” I looked back at the grand front door. “I should have figured you’d all be busy during the day. It’s just I was nearby and wanted to bring these treats as a thank you to Gray for taking us riding yesterday.”

He eyed the box and his grin deepened. “Ooh boy, you’re about to make a lot of men real damn happy if that’s from Campfire.”

“It sure is,” I preened.

“Well, let me take you over to find Gray and we can take these off your hands.”

“Thank you, Mason.”

He held out his arm for me to slip my hand into and I obliged. It wasn’t every day I got to be escorted around by a real life cowboy. Okay, so maybe it was two days in a row this week, but generally, such a thing would be unheard of in my life.

“It’s my pleasure. Big Sky hospitality and all that.”

“I have to admit, I find it all quite charming. Your town seems really wonderful.”

“Oh, it is. It’s more than that, though. It’s a way of life. Little bit country, little bit mountains. A whole lotta grit.”

“I’m learning that.” I looked out at the pastures, the ranch hands working with the horses, the cattle grazing out in the distance. It was a beautiful operation to see from an outsider’s perspective, but far more complicated than the movies or popular TV shows would have us believe. “It’s been really nice seeing it all firsthand.”

“Well I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’re glad you chose to visit Whittier.”

“Thanks, Mason. I’m really glad too. It’s been . . . illuminating. And inspiring.”

He turned his head to look at me, probably wondering what that was all about, but I didn’t want to elaborate, so I kept looking at the view. Instead of pushing, he just patted my hand.

“Hey, I’m having some people over on Saturday. Doing some grilling. Real casual, but some good old fashioned Montana cookin’. You and your friends should come by.”

“Oh, we’d love that! Are you sure we’re not imposing?”

“Not at all. It’s been a while since I’ve done that, and to be honest, my little girl is a big fan of yours. You’d be doing me a real solid if you stopped by.”

I laughed, but found it charming.

---