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She laughed, and yet again he counted himself, and all his brothers, as lucky their father had chosen her to be the mother of his children.
Late Monday morning, as he watched the video on the remote control and saw the profusion of brand-new blooms on and around the sprawling Kelly ranch, he knew it was definitely time. Tomorrow morning. Luckily, not much of a moon left. He’d have to check the weather, hoping for clear. Then the exact time of sunrise for the location, by latitude and longitude. He wanted to be there before astronomical twilight so he could gauge when to actually start, to get the combined effect of the matching blue of the flowers and the sky, and then the sun clearing the horizon and flooding hill and valley, lighting up the covering of the flowers that meant Texas.
When he passed on the good news of no fence issues on the Kelly place, he turned to the next task. A quick search told him he was looking at 6:17 a.m. for the start of twilight, with true sunrise at 7:37.
He wondered if Mom would be up for a pre-dawn ride, or would decide she didn’t want to. He nearly laughed at his own thought. If he knew her, she’d be up and ready before he was. He headed back into the house to let her know what time they were talking about. When he got to the kitchen Kaitlyn was also there, over at the coffee machine. When she saw him, she smiled. They’d gotten along wonderfully from the first time they’d met.
“Hi,” she said as she gestured toward him with the coffeepot in query.
“Yes, thanks,” he said.
Kaitlyn got a mug, filled it and held it out to him. He took it and walked over to his mother.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “It’s going to have to be early. And it’ll be tricky.”
“Before sunrise, you said?” she asked.
“Yes. I mean, the tricky part isn’t sunrise, that’ll be when it’ll be, obviously. The tricky part is going to be getting the exact timing I want. When the sky is just the right shade of blue, that night-heading-for-morning shade that matches the blue of the flowers.”
His mother lifted a brow at him. Ry did, too. “That was quite a description, my tech-headed bro.” He shot his teasing brother a mock-nasty look. “Developing an artistic sensibility?” Ry asked, undaunted.
“No.”
“Then why so picky about—”
“Because,” Kaitlyn interrupted him, but her voice was soft, “he wants to capture that amazing effect.” As she said it, she nodded toward the large painting that hung on the wall in the big room.
Ry’s eyes widened, then he smiled at Kaitlyn, with a warmth that seemed to fill the room. Mom just kept looking at Cody, but now with understanding, and that gentle, unfailing, ever-present love in her bright eyes.
Cody had known the minute Kaitlyn had said the words that she, with her photographer’s eye, had been right. It hadn’t been a conscious thing, he hadn’t looked at the painting and decided that was his goal, it had simply been there in his brain all along, that this was the way the video should look.
He lowered his gaze to the plan outlined on his phone, not knowing what to say and doubtful he could speak anyway.
Then Mom shattered the mood, either unintentionally or on purpose. “You’d better let the Roths know. Particularly Britt, in case she’s out early with Ghost.”
His head came up instantly. “We won’t be on their property.”
“But we’ll be close enough that silly horse could take a notion,” Mom said. And somehow hearing her disparage Britt’s precious Ghost lightened his mood.
“I’ll call them,” he promised her, since it did seem only neighborly.
But not Britt. He wasn’t about to end up having to actually speak to her; that had happened too much recently. So, he’d send a text warning.
And if she didn’t see it, so be it.
Chapter Fourteen
“You’re not heading out to the east side this morning, right?”
Britt covered a yawn before answering her father; it was still pitch-black out, so she assumed he meant later. Then again, the man was up well before dawn most days, so who knew?
“Wasn’t planning on it,” she said.
“Good. Glad to see you’re resisting temptation.”
It was way too early in the morning to figure out one of her dad’s subtleties. “I don’t find anything tempting this hour of the morning.”
She wouldn’t be up at all if her sleep hadn’t gone all haywire for the last week. But since she was up, she was going to go over her planning for both this rodeo season, and her list of people she wanted to touch base with on the circuit. People who might be able to help her on her way to her goal, either with potential breeding stock or simply information. She loved what she did, and the thrill of a good run was unmatched in her view, but she had to look ahead, too. There weren’t a lot of fifty-year-old barrel racers out there still competing.
