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Brett grinned. “I designed it.”
“No shit. That house is amazing.”
“Thank you, but as I tell everyone, I designed it. Riley and Katie made it a home.”
Preston laughed. “True.”
“Wait. Preston Mitchell? Mitchell Cattle Company?”
“Yep. That’s me.”
“My dad used to own a cattle ranch in Helena but sold the cattle. He mentioned meeting you, Calder Moore, and the Coleman brothers at a Cattlemen’s convention.”
“Who’s your dad?”
“Michael Watkins.”
“Oh, yeah. I know him. Great guy. I wondered why I hadn’t seen him at the last few conventions.”
“He and Mom retired. They bought an RV and travel a good bit.”
“Good for them. But he still has the ranch?”
“Yes. He won’t sell the ranch. It started with his great-great-grandfather. He’ll hand it down.”
Deidra returned and set a plate in front of Brett. She folded her arms and stared at him. He narrowed his eyes, looked at his plate, and saw a burger and fries. He grinned, lifted the top of the bun, and laughed. Like he always ordered. He shook his head.
“Unreal.”
Preston chuckled. “Did she talk you into ordering your usual?”
“Yes, and it’s perfect, but I’ve never met Deidra before today, or I would remember her.” He quickly glanced at Preston. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“No worries. I know my wife is beautiful, and she loves me. No harm done.”
“Thanks. I just meant that I’ve only been waited on by Connie, Rissa, and Lanie the times I’ve been here.”
“I get it, man.”
Brett looked at Deidra. “How?”
She walked to the kitchen and returned with the order she’d written on the pad. She held it up for him to read. ‘Brett Watkins-usual’is what she’d written.
“So, it’s not me who remembers. Most of the servers here don’t. We write that for whoever wants their usual. Uncle Owen and Aunt Connie remember everyone’s order. I have no idea how, but they’re never wrong.”
Brett chuckled. “I can’t remember what I had for breakfast.”
Preston and Deidra laughed. The door opened, and a woman rushed in.
“I’m so sorry, Deidra. Carl is sick, so I had to take the kids to my mother’s.”
“It’s fine, Meri. We’re not busy, but I am going to go. We’re going to get our Christmas tree.”
“Excuse me, but where can I get one?” Brett hadn’t even thought about it.
“You can either go to the Richards Christmas tree farm where he sells cut trees, or they’ll cut one for you, and Chuck Sampson sells them on his lot down the street. He sells trees from the farm, so you’re getting a nice tree no matter where you go, but Chuck doesn’t start selling until the day after Thanksgiving. The farm is open now,” Preston said.
“Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ll check with JoJo on it.”
