Page 100 of Riding the Storm
Grandpa gives a low hum of agreement. “We did our part. Then your parents came along and did theirs.”
Grandma’s gaze softens as she looks at me. “And now it’s you girls. Taking it and leaving your own mark on it. The dream keeps changing, keeps growing. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Her words make my throat tighten. “You make it sound easy.”
She shakes her head gently. “It wasn’t. Lord knows it wasn’t.”
Grandpa pulls her closer, his chin resting on the top of her head. “But we didn’t give up. That’s the thing about this ranch. It’s built on folks who refuse to give up.”
I stare at the horizon, where the fields blur into the dark line of the Tetons.
“Wildhaven Storm Ranch,” I murmur. “An eleven-thousand-acre legacy.”
Grandma’s eyes lift to mine, full of something fierce and proud. “It’s not just the land. It’s the people. This place has always been held together by grit and grace. By family who believed, even when everything else told them not to.”
Grandpa nods. “You can lose a lot of things in life, but if you hold on to faith and each other, you’ll always find a way.”
His voice cracks just slightly, and I know he’s thinking of Mom.
For a moment, none of us says anything. The evening settles heavy and sweet around us.
Then Grandma continues, “This ranch has seen it all—droughts, floods, rival ranches trying to buy us out, even horse thieves. We’ve lost lots—horses, people we loved.” She pauses, eyes glistening. “But we never lost hope. Because it’s not the good times that shape you. It’s the hard ones. That’s where character is forged. Right there in the fire.”
I look down to where their hands are joined, at the veins that map across them like tiny rivers. “Sometimes, I wish the fire would just … cool down for a while,” I whisper.
She smiles. “You and me both, sweetheart.”
It hits me then—what she’s really saying. This ranch isn’t just fences and barns and horses. It’s the blood, sweat, and tears of every person who came before us. It’s our story, written in dirt.
I glance at them again—Grandpa still holding Grandma, both of them looking out like they can already see the next generation running across these fields.
For a long moment, I don’t say anything. I just let myself watch them—two people who built a beautiful life together.The way Grandpa still traces slow circles over her hands. The way she leans back against him like that’s exactly where she’s meant to be.
I want that. I want to build a life with my cowboy. One that we can be proud to hand down to the next generation.
The crunch of gravel coming down the road draws our attention, and a thrill shoots through me. “They’re back,” I squeal.
Grandma’s face lights up, and she shifts from dreamy nostalgia to all business in an instant. “Well, now, come on, Earl. Help me set the table for supper so they can tell us all about it.”
Ibarely have both boots on the ground before I hear the screen door slap open. Then a blur of dark hair and sunshine flies straight at me.
Charli’s running full tilt. And then she’s airborne, leaping into my arms.
I catch her with ease, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like I was made to. Her legs wrap around my waist, her arms hook around my neck, and she lets out a sigh that lands right against my throat. Like she’s been waiting to be back in my arms all day.
Behind us, Albert chuckles, low and warm. “Guess that’s my cue to go on in,” he says.
He heads for the porch, and Matty’s on his heels.
But I don’t move. Not yet. I just stand there with Charli holding me, looking up at me expectantly with those bright blue eyes.
“So, how’d it go?” she asks.
“Great,” I tell her. “Your father and I reached a mutually beneficial agreement.”
She squints one eye at me. “That sounds like lawyer talk, cowboy. Tell it to me plain.”
I laugh. “We signed on the dotted line, and our attorneys are already working together to file all the paperwork we need to start the new LLC.”
