Page 27 of Frog

“Yes.” He smiled at me.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d love to ride.”

He nodded. “Let’s get all the kids rounded up.”

When I stood up, Vanessa was hanging onto my neck, and Victoria decided she was going to hold my hand, and Pip the other, as I walked over to the tree where Tristan and Micah were. Tristan wanted to ride, but Micah just shook his head.

“You ain’t stuck up there, are ya?” I stared up at him in the tree.

He shook his head.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?”

He nodded.

“All right then.”

We sent Tristan back to the house to call his mother to the backyard to watch over Micah. After a few minutes, the back deck filled with people. Mr. Benning called over to his wife, at least I thought she was his wife (he called her honey so I certainly hoped so), that he was taking the kids riding and would be back.

“And who’s that with you?” A beautiful woman asked, obviously Victoria and Vanessa’s mother—same black hair, same pale blue eyes.

“This is Weber, Cyrus’s friend.”

“Nice to meet you,” she called over to me. “I’m Rachel.”

Oh, perfect Rachel, the sister-in-law. I looked at Carolyn, and she smirked at me. It was nice that we had an inside joke already.

“My girls get attached kind of fast,” Rachel continued.

“Which is real nice, ma’am,” I told her.

Her smile was big and bright before I turned away, her youngest with a death grip around my neck, her oldest with her hand in mine.

As we walked, Mr. Benning told me about his home, the ten acres the house sat on, the stables, how close it was to running trails and riding trails, and how much he loved the Farmer’s Market on Sunday. He was making conversation, and I appreciated it.

The horses were gorgeous, the stable nicer than some of the hotels I had slept in, and Mr. Benning enjoyed watching me saddle the mare I was going to ride. The four kids listened as I talked, and after a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, I had Tristan and Vanessa with me and Mr. Benning the two youngest.

We rode back up toward the house, and everyone waved as we passed by.

“Grandpa,” Tristan called over to him. “Who’s that man standing by Uncle Cyrus?”

He cleared his throat. “That’s a friend of your Uncle Brett’s that he invited up for the weekend.”

“Oh.” Tristan nodded and then turned where he was in front of me to look up at my face. “Uncle Brett and Aunt Rachel, that’s Van and Vicky’s mom and dad, they invite their friends up sometimes to meet Uncle Cyrus.”

“I see.” I smiled at him, the man of the world at eight.

“They didn’t know you were coming along with Cy, Weber,” Mr. Benning said, which was really decent of him.

“Course not,” I said huskily.

“What is it you do, Weber?”

“I’m a ranch hand,” I told him, since that would be the next thing I would be.

“I see.”

I wondered what the blind date did but guessed it was better than out of work drifter, which was why I had thrown out employment that I didn’t have yet when I answered Cy’s father.