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I took the turnoff toward the main house, passing by several of the cabins of varying size that dotted the property. It looked as if they were all occupied. That would have tickled Mom, as this had been her pet project. My parents didn’t need the money the guest ranch brought in. The land and rights Dad’s family had owned for generations made the Carringtons wealthy. Dad had only increased his wealth with the boom Carrington Cove was going through. Land was at a premium and Dad could name his price when selling off parcels or leasing.
While Dad wheeled and dealed, Mom had made her dreams come true and opened the Ranch. At first it was more like a bed and breakfast, but as its popularity increased, Mom and Dad started having cabins built that could be rented out. Stables and the barn were next. Dad eventually built Mom her dream home about ten years ago. Our old cabin was now used to house the ranch hands who lived full-time on the property during the summer. We had some local year-round employees who lived in town or in Pine Falls with their families, though we only had guests from Memorial Day to Labor Day. The Ranch and the animals needed year-round care and maintenance.
Frankie, our cook, was one of those year-round employees. Even though Mom had been a terrific cook, we’d hired Frankie because her family needed the money when her husband lost his job. That was a long time ago and her husband had been gainfully employed for years, but Frankie had become more like family and she’d stayed on. I was hoping to keep it that way since we especially needed her during the busy summer months. She took such great care of our guests and she was part of the reason so many of them came back. The woman had a gift with food.
I pulled around the semi-circle drive of the big, rustic house and admired the place I used to call home. The wraparound porch, complete with hearth, was my favorite. Mom’s too. No detail had been spared when this gorgeous place was built, everything from the huge boulders in the landscape to the way the aspen and pine trees were planted around the home.
I pulled in behind Sawyer’s old, beat-up blue truck. I couldn’t help but smile. It reminded me of what a good and decent person he was. I know Dad had offered him a loan to start his own practice, but Sawyer wanted to do it on his own. I loved him even more for it. Unlike his mother, who was happy to take Dad’s money, Sawyer never seemed interested in it.
I had to remind myself I was in Sawyer detox, so it was best not to dwell on his attributes. With my resolve kind of sort of in place, I hopped out of my Jeep.
I didn’t even make it to the house before Marlowe and Macey ran out with more exuberance than they normally showed. They still called the Ranch home. Each of them was dressed up. Marlowe wore a stunning white maxi dress and Macey was in a navy halter dress that showed off her long, beautiful legs. The same legs Marlowe had. I looked down at my own legs; they were mostly shaved and tan, that was all I was going to say about them.
“Emma, you’re late, everyone else is already at the chapel. We were waiting for you,” Marlowe complained while shaking her ebony mane.
“I’m not late. The ceremony doesn’t start for twenty minutes and it’s not like we know the couple.” I would have been earlier, but I had forgotten I wasn’t wearing a bra. It wasn’t like my girls were big enough to poke an eye out, but I was wearing a light blue T-shirt and it would have been awkward, to say the least, if I hadn’t remembered halfway down my street that my tatas were flying free.
Macey, the sweeter of the two, looped her arm through mine. “But this is Ashton’s first time officiating.”
Did I detect some dreaminess when she said Ashton’s name? Ashton was handsome. Not as handsome as Sawyer, but he had the athletic build and angular face most women found attractive. I probably didn’t think he was gorgeous because he looked too much like his mother with his dark eyes and auburn hair. I could see why someone would find him so, but I didn’t think it was a good idea for my baby sister to. He was eleven years older than the girls and recently divorced. Then there was the fact that he was our . . . dare I say it? Stepbrother. Ugh. If I couldn’t be with a stepbrother, neither could they.
Marlowe practically jogged passed us in heels.
“Why are you two so dressed up? I thought this was casual.”
