The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,50
got?”
“Those bags right there,” Cactus said, and Bishop didn’t have to go far to see the four or five white trash bags beside the front door. He stepped past them and closed the door, the blessed air conditioning making him sigh.
He twisted from his waist, his back twinging a little. He’d ridden Klaus to Cactus’s, because his house was only accessible with a vehicle whose width was less than fifty-five inches. As Bear didn’t want a single ATV on the ranch—not even to go see Cactus—if someone went to Cactus’s, they rode a horse.
Cactus kept three of his favorite horses in a stable and paddock he’d built himself out here, so he definitely possessed the skills required to rebuild that roof.
“Did you need something else?” Cactus asked, and Bishop stopped looking around the small, yet clean, cabin. Cactus was a lot like Bishop in the way he liked things a certain way.
He took a deep breath and didn’t smell anything, unlike the garlic and sausage scent he’d left at the main homestead. Ranger had made soup for dinner, as if such a thing were appropriate for summer in Texas. Ranger liked to say it wasn’t summer yet, because June twenty-first wasn’t until the weekend.
Bishop had been rolling his eyes a lot more about the homestead, where he lived with the two co-owners of the ranch. Bear had redone the building, and it had two separate master wings on the second level, where both Bear and Ranger could raise families and still share the house.
Right now, Bear lived in the main level master, which wasn’t quite a wing. More of a suite than anything else, it did have three rooms separated from the rest of the house. Bear had a private bedroom, bath, and sitting room with a couch and TV.
The wings were entire apartments in their own right, with multiple bathrooms, bedrooms, and kitchenettes.
Bishop knew, because he lived in the west wing right now. Ranger in the east. Bishop felt a change in the air though, and it was scented like motor oil and flowers, a smell that belonged uniquely to Samantha Benton.
She came to the ranch almost every day, and Bishop always smiled when he saw her pull up. She had a kind heart, and she sure had tamed Bear into a man who kept his hair cut shorter and his clothes cleaner than Bishop had ever seen them.
He laughed more, and he held Sammy’s hand right out in the open. He took Lincoln everywhere with him, and the boy had become a shadow for a lot of cowboys on the ranch, Bishop included. Yes, Sammy and Lincoln’s inclusion at Shiloh Ridge had been a welcome addition for Bishop—and many others.
“Bishop,” Cactus barked, and Bishop flinched.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just thinking about something.”
“What?”
“Do you need some help with the porch roof?” Bishop asked. “I’d be happy to come out and work—”
“No,” Cactus said. He never let anyone touch anything around his cabin or the land surrounding it.
“I nearly roasted to death waiting for you to answer the door,” Bishop said, enjoying the growl on Cactus’s face. He was easy to tease, and Bishop didn’t understand why he chose to exist with his anger and frustration instead of letting it all go.
Of course, Bishop had been away from the ranch during the two years Cactus had met, fallen in love with, proposed to, and started a life with Allison Mahoney. He’d returned a few months after the woman had walked out on the past two years, and he’d found a brand-new version of his brother.
“Why are you still here?” Cactus asked.
Bishop sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re really no fun.”
“Heard that one,” Cactus said, lifting his sandwich to his mouth. His eyes never left Bishop’s, and most things about Cactus were darker than everyone else in the family. His hair was almost the color of tar, and his eyes resembled the deepest, most expensive blue sapphires.
“It’s Bear’s birthday in a couple of weeks,” Bishop said. “Sammy is planning something at the homestead, and we want everyone there.”
Cactus just chewed, and Bishop waited. He’d gotten several sentences out of Cactus, and he should be thankful for that. He was grateful for that, and he was grateful that Cactus allowed him to come out to his cabin every once in a while at all.
The only other member of the family who Cactus allowed to come here was Bear, and he was so busy around the ranch, that Cactus was largely ignored.