As he predicted, two grey-colored dogs with black freckled fur came trotting toward him, tongues lolling.
He grinned and squatted down. “Hey, Casper. ’Sup, Frankie? Did you boys miss me? Huh?”
They sniffed and licked his face, their cold noses nudging at his hands.
“Nah, I don’t have any treats,” he told them reluctantly, revealing his empty hands. “Not this time. Sorry.”
Casper whined low, then turned and wandered off, his tail brushing Ryan in the face as he did so.
Ryan watched the dog leave, then turned to Frankie, who still stared at him, panting happily. “What’s his deal, huh?” He scratched Frankie’s head, paying particular attention to his left ear. “What’s his deal?”
“His deal,” his sister’s voice answered, “is that you’ve spoiled him, so now he expects treats all the time.”
He grinned up at her as she entered the kitchen, her hair in a loose ponytail over a black-and-white flannel shirt, trusty jeans tucked into her favorite sweater-like slipper boots. “Someone has to spoil them. You won’t let them into the main part of the house anymore.”
Kellie rolled her eyes and moved to the coffee machine on the counter. “They’ll get over it. They go everywhere in your house, even when they’re full of ticks. They’re only inside now because of the storm.”
Ryan frowned at Frankie, still scratching his head. “I’m gonna get custody of you, okay? She doesn’t treat you right.”
“Oh, good grief,” his sister groaned, pulling down two coffee mugs from the shelf. “Coffee, Ryan?”
“Please.” He straightened, patting Frankie’s head once more. “You lose power?”
She shook her head as she poured their drinks. “No, thank goodness. Thought we might for a minute there, but we were good. You?”
“Nope.” He moved to the side of the doormat, wiping the bottom of his boots carefully. “Fence post went down in the west pasture, though. I don’t know what you paid them last summer to do that, but you should get a refund. Wasn’t down near far enough, and we’ll have to replace it, if not the entire line.”
Kellie sighed, nodding. “Okay. Thanks for doing that.” She came over to him, setting his mug on the island near him. “Black, right?”
“Always.” He flashed her a quick grin. “Like my heart.”
She raised a brow at him. “And your humor.” She shook her head, moving to the fridge, no doubt wanting her vanilla creamer.
Gross.
“Hey, Kells?” Ryan said quietly, turning his cup just a little on the counter and sliding his hand through the handle, letting the heat warm him. “You don’t have to thank me every time I do something. It’s my job now.”
She paused with her hand on the handle to the fridge, giving him a confused look. “I know that. I hired you.”
He sipped his coffee slowly, the beverage still burning his mouth. “Yeah, I remember. But doing my job doesn’t require thanks, you know? I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”
Kellie frowned and came over to stand opposite him, pouring the creamer into her coffee while staring at him. “I know that, too. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate that you were up early and driving out to check stuff after the storm.”
“I don’t want to feel like I’m doing you a favor,” he confessed, looking down into the dark liquid in his cup. “Like I’m your brother helping out on the family farm.”
She set her coffee down and covered his free hand with both of hers. “Ryan.”
He glanced up at her, embarrassed by this entire conversation, though it needed to happen. She’d put on her big sister voice, and he had never been able to resist that. “What?”
Her bright blue eyes could have bored into him. “Stop.”
Huh? That wasn’t what he’d expected from his therapist of a sister, especially when she’d put the voice on and everything. “Excuse me?”
“Excuse yourself,” she said simply, still serious. “I did not hire you out of pity. I know the timing might lead you in that direction, but for me, it was like being hit with the lightning of inspiration. I needed better hands here, you needed something to do, and it was the easiest decision I have ever made. Trust me when I say that there is no one else I would want running the ranch. You’ve got the experience to fit the job, you actually care about the place, and you aren’t going to pull punches on me. That’s what I need, okay?”
Sometimes, he forgot what a tough cookie his sister was, and how direct she could be. He threw her a lopsided grin. “So I need to pull up my chaps and get to work?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” She returned his grin and slid her hands from his. “And if I want to thank you for getting up at the crack of dawn to do your job, I’m gonna thank you, okay? I’d do the same to any of my employees.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ryan protested, embarrassment gone now. “Employees? I’m your partner, remember?”
Kellie picked up her coffee and blew on it gently, shrugging a shoulder. “If you say so, Ry-Ry.”
He scowled at the childhood nickname. “That’s going to get old real fast.”
Rolling her eyes again, she put the creamer back in the fridge and moved around the island to a bar stool. “I promise not to use it when we’re meeting with investors and Ms. Harland.”
Ryan shuddered for effect. “Please don’t make me meet with Ms. Harland. I’ll beg.”
“She is wonderful!” Kellie protested, slapping a hand on the counter. “Ryan, we couldn’t do this without her! The ranch wasn’t providing enough on its own, and last year was the first time I’ve ran a profit since taking over. She’s an angel for financing this, and all she asks for is a case of jam and to sponsor our horses.”
“She hates me,” Ryan pointed out without any shame whatsoever. “She makes that hum of disapproval every time she sees me.”
“Oh, grow up.” Kellie snickered and took a drink of her coffee, her eyes turning mischievous. “You know it’s only because of that circuit in ’14, right? You bested their grandson in the finals, completing the Original Six sweep. She couldn’t stand that, and her husband was cranky for weeks.”
Ryan scowled at the memory, sinking onto a bar stool himself. Hank Harland had been the biggest name in the rodeo business for ages, and his wife might have been a bigger name. When he’d died a few years back, Ms. Ginny had taken over the businesses. If there was a rodeo around, their business had a stamp on it.
It wasn't Ryan’s fault their grandson couldn’t stay on a bronc.
“The Original Six,” he murmured slowly, spinning his mug in thought. “I haven’t seen most of them in a while.”
“Probably not since your injury,” Kellie echoed. “Think any of them will come down this year?”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know. The season starts in a few weeks, and I haven’t seen the docket. You?”
“Nope. Might be good to see them, though.”
“Maybe.”
They sat in silence with their coffee for a few minutes, lost in thought.