“Kellie! Kell, I know you’re in there! Kellie!”
Ryan shook his head as he stood outside of his sister’s house, intentionally not going up on the porch to knock. His boots were caked in particularly damp, sticky mud that would earn him buckshot in a butt cheek if he trespassed any farther in such a state, so bellowing from the safe boundary was his only option.
Grinning at the lack of response, he inhaled deeply, threw his head back, and hollered, “KELLIE!”
The familiar barks of Frankie and Casper echoed from somewhere nearby, and he had no doubt they would come bounding around the house shortly. The dogs had the worst case of Fear of Missing Out he had ever seen outside of a human, and they’d knock him over in a heartbeat.
“Are you crazy?” his sister demanded as she stormed out of the house from the kitchen door, stomping down the wraparound porch toward him, screen door slamming ominously. She wiped her hands on the half-apron she wore, leaving streaks of flour on the navy fabric. “We are not back on the ranch the way it was when we were kids. I’ve got guests here!”
“Are they sleeping?” Ryan asked without much concern, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops.
Kellie frowned a little. “No, of course not. None of them are.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Then my bellowing shouldn’t be a crime.”
“Watch it, buck,” she warned, her eyes narrowing, no hint of a smile on her face. “Now, what do you need so badly?”
Ryan smiled up at her, feeling almost mischievous. “We’re gonna have company for dinner tonight.”
Kellie blinked without her expression changing at all. “Are we? Who? And why am I just finding out?”
“We are,” he confirmed, shifting his weight into an easier stance. “Some guys. And because the last one just said he was in.”
“Some guys?” She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Ryan, you know how I feel about having more guys on the property than we have to. Especially ones who might not respect the boundaries and rules we have to have. What am I supposed to tell the guests? They can go out and eat in Lost Creek?” She rubbed a hand at her brow, which left a faint streak of flour there as well. “Who did you invite?”
Ryan made a face, trying not to grin at his own private joke. “Oh, you know, just … the Original Six.”
It was hilarious, the way his sister’s eyes widened in time with her mouth dropping open. He half-expected her to gasp dramatically or faint against the smooth planks of the porch beneath her feet.
But she did none of those things.
“The Original Six?” she repeated slowly. “Seriously?”
He nodded, grinning freely now. “Seriously. Reid just confirmed, and he was the last one. They’re all going to be here.”
Kellie matched his grin, her irritation with him gone now. “That’s fantastic! Are they competing? Did you invite them or did they …? You know what, I don’t even care. It’ll be so great to see them!” Her brow creased in thought. “I should make another loaf of bread. I’ve got one rising now, I could do another. They’ll wolf down dinner. I was planning on a roast—do you think they’ll eat a roast? Maybe I should do chicken fried steak …”
“A home-cooked meal? They’d eat anything short of leather,” Ryan assured her. “And why are you making the bread? What happened to what’s-her-name? The cook lady?”
His sister snorted softly. “If you came to the homestead more often, Ry, you’d have noticed she’s been gone for three weeks now. She found being here too remote and unsatisfying, so we’re back to meal duty. I’ll give the ladies a night off from that, and the new arrival can settle in.”
Ryan’s ears perked at that. “New arrival? I didn’t see that on the schedule. I thought that was Friday.”
“She could get a cheaper flight today,” Kellie explained, her hands folding in the fabric of the apron and wiping off. “She asked if it was all right, and since Amy left ahead of schedule, we have the room ready.” Her eyes raised and narrowed as she looked at something behind him. “That might be her now. How tacky would it be to greet her wearing an apron?”
Ryan turned to look, and saw the blue sedan kicking up dust on the drive in. “Nah, it’s life on the ranch, right? We’re rustic, or something.”
“You can be rustic, cowboy. I’m hostess and therapist, and I need to look professional,” Kellie huffed.
He glanced behind him to see her scrambling at her apron ties before succeeding and tossing the thing back toward the kitchen. “You’re wearing jeans and a flannel over a tee, Kells. That’s pretty rustic.”
She stuck her tongue out at him quickly.
“Ah, there’s the professional.” He exhaled and squinted up at the roof above her. “Want me to get out of the way so you can greet her properly?”
“Yes, please,” she said without shame, smiling with sisterly fondness. “Don’t want the poor thing to get the wrong idea of this place.”
Ryan nodded in thoughtful consideration. “That it’s a dude ranch filled with single, attractive, willing men?”
An even more sisterly expression of derision flashed across her face. “That it’s some pathetic, poor, mud-swamped farm in desperate need of money and upkeep.”
“Nice, sis.” He clicked his tongue and tapped the brim of his hat, turning to move around the house. “See ya later.”
“Don’t go too far,” she called as he walked away. “She’ll have luggage you might need to help with.”
“That’s not in my job description,” he yelled back, though he stopped and turned back, leaning against the railing of the porch lazily while he waited to be summoned.
This place wasn’t designed to be a holiday destination. Why in the world would anyone need to bring so much that it couldn’t be managed by herself and Kellie? They had a washer and dryer in the house, and they worked fine, so there was no need to overpack. They were remote out here, so there would be no need for fancy wear, aside from what they might wear to go to the bar or dance in Lost Creek, but that certainly wasn’t a place for formal stuff.
All of the ladies would have their work clothing supplied for them, if nothing they brought was worth getting dirty, so that negated that issue as well. Really, were they supposed to have a concierge at the homestead? They hadn’t had anyone all that high and mighty since Ryan had been back, and he suspected they likely wouldn’t unless word got around. How could the pictures of their place on the website tempt anybody used to caviar and pearls to come stay with them?
Something cold and slightly damp touched the dangling palm of Ryan’s hand, and he jumped a little, looking down. Casper stood there, tail wagging, tongue lolling, while Frankie sniffed an apparently fascinating patch of grass nearby.
“Hi there, buddy,” Ryan murmured, scratching the mutt between his ears. “You catch any rabbits yet today?”
Casper didn’t reply other than to lick his muzzle and lean into Ryan’s scratching.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Ryan chuckled.
Not to be ignored, Frankie caught onto the attention his brother was getting and trotted over to take part.