Page 55 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

She shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

They sat there a while longer, sipping lemonade and letting the hush of dusk settle over the ranch.

Tomorrow could bring harder news. Or better. No one could say for sure.

But, for now, the fences held, the grove still stood, and there was strength enough—between them—to face whatever came next.

Chapter 9

Chance stepped into the equipment barn, squinting past rows of old tools, rusting parts, and forgotten intentions. He spotted what he was looking for behind the woodpile, under a sagging tarp.

“Tell me again why we’re risking tetanus for this?” Rafael asked, ducking under a low beam.

Chance smirked. He set down two large stainless steel bowls, then wiped his dusty palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Because apparently Bella wants to live out her Tuscan farm fantasies.”

“And Willow’s already planning labels,” Rafael added, chuckling. “Saw her doodling ‘Topa Gold’ on the back of a grocery list.”

“That’s what makes it dangerous,” Chance said. “Once they start naming things, it’s already happening.”

They moved a few more crates to get closer, then Chance removed the tarp.

Rafael let out a low whistle. “Wow.”

The old, decorative press looked like someone’s granddad had built it as a weekend project. The crank still turned, though it let out a groan loud enough to wake the barn cats.

“Maybe it’s all Bella’s dreaming, but I kind of remember your mom making oil,” Rafael said.

“Yeah.” Warmth flooded him. “She loved the idea of using the land for more than cattle and hay. I think she got a few jars out of it when the trees were still young.”

“Wonder how it tasted.”

Chance directed a look at Rafael. “As I recall, Ace said it tasted like sunshine and shoe polish.”

Rafael threw back a laugh. “Sounds like Ace.” He loaded the press on a dolly and paused to steady it. “Your mom always was an optimist though.”

“That she was.”

They rolled it toward the barn door, wheels wheezing and whining the entire way. Outside, the smell of fresh-cut hay hit their senses, and Chance found himself warming to this idea more than he thought he would.

“Mom would have loved this idea,” Chance said, quieter now. “To see the grove turn into something.”

Rafael went quiet before nodding. “She was one of the few who never looked at me like I was a mistake.”

Chance glanced at him, then looked away. “Yeah, well … she had a gift for seeing past what was presented to her.”

They wheeled the press to the outside edge of the equipment shed. Rafael wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his glove and leaned his behind against a fence post.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve said it before that I never thought I’d be back here. Especially working alongside you.”

Chance didn’t answer right away. He was watching the press, thinking of what might’ve been. He gave his cousin a small shrug. “Never thought you’d want to be back.”

“I almost changed my mind,” Rafael admitted.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Found my humility. Plus, my wife said we were moving to Sutter Creek whether I liked it or not.”

Chance barked a laugh. “Bella does have a way of getting what she wants, I’ve noticed.”

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