Page 101 of Lost Trust

They don’t hesitate. They run right into the spray, and their peals of laughter echo all the way up to us on the roof.

Ruby squeals when the water hits her, and Ryder throws his arms out and charges through it again, slipping on the soaked blades of grass and nearly falling over.

I stop hammering, and so do Dad and Uncle Albert. We watch the two of them.

For a minute, the ranch feels different. Lighter.

Dad leans back on his hands. “It’s nice, hearing kids running around here again.” He looks over at Uncle Albert. “Been a long damn time since ours were that little.”

Albert smiles, watching the kids. “Yeah, it has.” He shakes his head. “I loved having my girls. Wouldn’t trade a minute of it. But there’s nothing quite like grandkids.”

Dad looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

I immediately shake my head. “Don’t look at me,” I say. “Axle’s the only one who might be giving you grandkids anytime soon.”

Uncle Albert laughs. “I wouldn’t say that out loud without knocking on wood, son.”

I immediately drop and rap my knuckles against one of the wood beams framing the roof. “I live on the road ten months out of the year. I don’t have time to be making any babies.”

Dad looks at Albert. “I’ve failed as a father,” he says, then brings his eyes back to me. “I should have had the birds and the bees talk with you a long time ago, son. See, it only takes about five to seven minutes to make a baby. Give or take.”

I raise my hammer and point it at both of them. “You assholes know what I meant.”

They both start chuckling.

Old bastards.

Marina

The late afternoon sun warms my shoulders as I sit on the porch with a glass of wine, watching Ryder and Ruby tear across the yard beneath the sprinkler.

They’re both soaked.

Ryder’s little jeans are plastered to his legs, his hair is clinging to his neck, and his giggles carry all the way up to the porch as he tries to outrun the oscillating spray.

Ruby is right behind him, shrieking with laughter.

Evelyn sits beside me, perfectly content to watch the chaos unfold with a glass of tea in one hand.

Charli and Shelby are sprawled in the other chairs, and Mom is seated with her legs tucked beneath her, glass of wine in hand, her bracelets jangling every time she takes a sip.

“So,” Mom says, lowering her voice, “who’s the man with the chest of steel who was practically undressing you with his eyes when we walked up?”

I should have known better than to think we’d make it through an entire glass of wine without discussing my love life.

I choke on my wine, and she starts pounding on my back.

“Geezus, Mom,” I wheeze.

Charli and Shelby grin at each other.

“Well, he was. And you were staring right back at him.”

“His name is Royce Trust. You met his younger brother, Cabe, at lunch. They’re Charli and Shelby’s cousins. And we know each other from the rodeo circuit. That’s all.”

She raises a brow. “The rodeo circuit?”

Charli nods. “He and his older brother, Axle, are professional bull riders. Ax just won the world championship last month, barely beating my husband.”