Page 28 of Branded

“We’ll be staying at my house,” I interrupt. “We’re back for a while, so I want Lennox to be comfortable in her new home.”

Mom’s eyebrows rise. “Sebastian, your home hasn’t been opened in months. The staff haven’t had a chance to clean it.”

“I called ahead. It’s ready.” I start walking toward the SUV, keeping my hand on Lennox. “But we’ll come up for cocktails and dinner. What time?”

“Seven.” Gone is the warm, performative Eleanor and in her place is the woman who could terrify men at a hundred paces with a look alone. She doesn’t like being contradicted, especially not in front of guests. “Your siblings are eager to meet Lennox. The girls are beside themselves with excitement about having a new aunt.”

Nathaniel’s twins. Christ, I’d forgotten about them.

“We’ll be here,” I promise. “Just need a few hours to settle in and clean up from traveling first.”

Mom’s eyes narrow slightly, and I know she can read my mind. A few hours to settle in means a few hours to fuck my new wife before subjecting her to family scrutiny. Which is accurate, but she doesn’t need me to confirm that.

“Of course.” Mom turns her attention back to Lennox, and her smile returns, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I look forward to getting to know you better, dear. It’s not every day my son brings home a wife. And from such a good family, too.”

“I look forward to it as well, Eleanor.” Lennox’s smile never changes.

“Wonderful. Seven o’clock then. Don’t be late, you know how your father gets.”

“I’m right here, Eleanor,” my father huffs, and Lennox lets out a small giggle.

Mom pats his chest before heading back up the steps and disappearing inside, leaving us alone with Dad.

“Life’s different around here now, and she’s been waiting for you to settle down and come home for years. It’s a lot of change in a short time,” Dad says, leaning against the SUV.

“Well, we’re here now, there’s nothing I can do about some of the changes but we’ll help where we can.” I know the situation with Nathaniel is weighing on both of them. He’s fired every nanny my mother found, is working all hours of the day and night, is ignoring his life, and left Mom as full-time caregiver for the twins. Maybe Lennox can help her out now that we are here.

He pushes off the vehicle and nods. “Seven it is. Welcome home, Sebastian.” He tips his hat to Lennox. “Ma’am.”

Then he heads toward the house, leaving us alone in the circular driveway with enough luggage to make it clear Lennox has no intention of leaving anytime soon.

I move the bags from Dad’s SUV to my truck that has been left for us, one of the newer F-350s, black, with the Drake logo on the doors, and gesture for Lennox to climb in.

“I figured you just stayed with your family when you came back. Where is your house?” she asks as I start the engine.

“About a mile from here, past the ridge.” I pull out of the driveway and head down a dirt road that curves away from the main house. “It was built in the 1870s by my great-great-grandfather. Mom hates it, she always says it’s too rustic, too much like actual ranch life. So she convinced Dad to build that ridiculous palace back there and moved the family twenty years ago.”

“And you live in the old house?”

“I do now. I claimed it ten years ago when I got tired of Mom monitoring my every move.” I glance at her. “She wanted me where she could control everything. I wanted freedom to do as I please and work on the ranch how I wanted to.”

“But you left for California?”

“I left to build my own empire,” I correct her. “But I always come back. This is home, even if I don’t live here full time.”

The road climbs slightly, cresting the ridge Dad had mentioned, and suddenly the view changes completely. Below us, spread across the valley, is the actual Devil’s Ridge Ranch operation. Massive barns, a network of corrals and pastures, cattle grazing in organized sections, horses in separate paddocks. Equipment sheds, working facilities, cowboys on horseback moving through it all like a choreographed dance.

This is what Lennox has been looking for. This is the ranch. And my home sits right at the top of the ridge, overlooking everything.

It is built from Texas limestone and weathered timber, sprawling and solid, with a wraparound porch that has rocking chairs and looks like it has been there forever. The roof’s metal, aged to a dark patina. Windows are the original wavy glass in some places, replaced with modern versions in others. It is beautiful in a completely different way from the main house.

I pull up to the front and kill the engine. “Welcome home.”

Lennox is staring out the window at the operation below, and something in her expression has shifted. Not happiness, but something close to relief.

“You can see everything from here,” she says in awe.

“That’s the point.” I climb out and start unloading bags. “My great-great-grandfather positioned it exactly here so he could watch the entire operation. Know what was happening, where the problems were, and see his legacy spread out before him.”