Chapter 6 Boots and Bitching Podcast
boots and bitching podcast
Well, well, well… Sugar, she’s here. Y’all stop by and pull up a chair.
That’s right, Sagebrush Creek. The mystery Kingridge I told y’all about?
She touched down at the ranch this afternoon, and honey, she did not disappoint.
Designer coat. Red lips. Heels that probably cost more than my first car.
The woman stepped out of that SUV like she was walking into a courtroom, not a cattle ranch.
And from what I hear, the meeting with her brother didn’t exactly go smoothly.
Word is that Danner refused to pack his bags and follow her back to California. Can’t say I blame him. That boy’s got a wife, a purpose, and more solar panels than sense. You don’t quit Texas, and he’s been here long enough to know it. He’s not going anywhere.
Eliza didn’t take the news well. Sources say there were words.
Accusations. Hands flying… Some say there was even a slap delivered.
I wasn’t there, y’all, it’s just what I heard.
I didn’t believe our classy California girl was capable at first. But the more I thought about it, the more I could see it happening.
The wounds run deep in that family, and she’s got Kingridge blood running all through her.
So I’ll let you decide whether or not Danner walked away with a handprint on his cheek.
Either way, my sources say she turned on her heels, ready to leave him behind. And that’s where things get really interesting.
I know y’all saw that storm rolling through… The one rattling your windows and turning our roads into ice rinks? Well, it seems Mother Nature had other plans for Ms. Eliza Kingridge tonight. She’s not making it back to that hotel in town. She’s not making it anywhere.
Instead, she’s stranded. Right there on Kingridge Ranch. And not just anywhere on the property, sugar. She’s holed up at the home of Mr. Walker Reed.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Walker?
Our Walker? The man who’s been married to that ranch and fawning over his daughter for the past decade?
The tall, broody, cinnamon roll of a man in a cowboy hat.
The one who hasn’t so much as glanced at a woman since the day Lucy’s mama high-tailed it out of here?
Ding-ding, that’s the one. I hear he practically carried her through that storm himself. But what could’ve happened next?
Maybe he got her settled in his guest room.
Maybe little Lucy chatted her ear off about cookies and Christmas trees.
It could’ve been very domestic for a woman who makes her living tearing apart marriages.
But maybe it was something a little more steamy.
Lord knows you could cut their tension with a knife.
Eliza dear, if you’re listening, a little advice…
You should tread lightly with our boy. Walker Reed ain’t no one-night rodeo.
He didn’t give up on this town when things got hard.
He stayed at the ranch. He showed up. He made pancakes and hung Christmas lights.
We helped him raise that little girl like she hung the moon.
We aren’t about to watch some out-of-state divorce queen trample his heart.
And Walker, if you’re listening, it’s about time. We didn’t know you were looking. We all but gave up on you. Now that I know you’re on the market, I’ll talk to the ladies at church. They’ll send their daughters your way. Just say the word.
The storm’s supposed to pass by morning. But something tells me the fallout from it is just getting started. Keep your hands clean and your ears open, Sagebrush Creek. I have a feeling this Christmas is about to get very interesting.
Until next time, our boots are on the ground, and our eyes are on Eliza Kingridge. We won’t miss a minute.