Chapter 3 Mark
MARK
“There they come,” I grumble.
It might sound like it, but I’m not mad.
Hell, I’m glad the whole gang is coming to lunch today, but when they arrive all at once, the Tannens are a lot.
Doesn’t help that behind the three big trucks coming up the drive that belong to the various Tannen brothers and their families, there are two more speed demons cruising toward the house.
One, Sophie’s old beater truck and two, Shayanne, who’s riding a horse alongside the driveway.
I huff and roll my eyes. That Tannen girl…
well, Bennett girl I guess now, is actually racing a truck on a stallion?
Of course, she is. To be fair, it’s one of Luke’s thoroughbreds, so it is fast, but against a truck?
We all know who’ll win… Shayanne. Because she doesn’t stop when Bruce parks his truck.
Nope, she keeps right on riding past the front drive, around the house, and we can hear her hollering as she makes a loop.
“Girl’s lost her marbles,” I mutter, mostly to myself.
“I think she found herself is more like it,” Katelyn corrects.
She may be right, but I’m not sure Shayanne was ever unsure about herself. She’s always been an unapologetic hellion. She’s just a little more free-range and feral about it these days with my brother backing her up.
As everyone gets out, greetings are thrown about, with handshakes between the menfolk and the women hugging like they haven’t seen each other in ages even though it’s only been a few days for most of them.
Hell, some of them saw each other this morning.
But that’s how they are. Kids start to scatter like roaches - here, there, and everywhere.
But everyone pauses to hug Mama.
“Mama Louise! How’re you doing?” Bobby asks, pulling her to his side.
I watch as Mama’s eyes sparkle at the affection.
“Good as God wants me to be,” she answers, hugging him back before moving on to welcome Willow and tickle Juniper’s toes.
Aspen’s already run off, chasing after my boy, Johnny.
She’ll do her best to get him in trouble before the day’s over, mark my words.
As Mama hugs Cooper, Bruce and Allyson’s boy, who is more man than kid these days, she oh-so-casually tells him, “Mindy’s in the house. She didn’t have plans this weekend, so I roped her into helping with the little ones today.”
Mindy is the granddaughter of one of the ladies in town and Mama is doing her damnedest to matchmake her and Cooper so that the boy won’t leave Great Falls for college.
I haven’t told her that Cooper’s already talked to me about an official apprenticeship to learn the business side of cattle ranching as well as he already knows farming.
He’s the literal culmination of the Bennett-Tannen partnership, becoming a Tannen his younger days when Bruce married his mother and then mixing with the Bennetts when we all became one big happy family.
“Oh! I’ll go see if she needs any help,” Cooper says, aiming for equal casualness, but as he trots off, we all bust out laughing at his hustle to go see the pretty young thing he’s already got eyes for.
Mama’s matchmaking won’t take much beyond creating some opportunities for them to spend time together.
“Hopefully, the herd of kids will be good birth control for them,” Allyson muses worriedly.
“If not, he’s got condoms,” Bruce declares. Allyson turns eyes wide with horror to her husband and he chuckles. “What? He’s grown, Mindy’s grown, they’re literal adults. And if seeing Mother Nature run her course on the ranch isn’t enough, I’ve had the talk with him dozens of times.”
Allyson frowns, but we all know Bruce is right. Cooper is a man, and while we’re all fairly stupid at his age, the kid has his head on straight. Bruce made sure of it.
Mama clears her throat and asks loudly, “Is that the potato salad?”
Allyson’s attention drops to the big bowl in her hands, exactly how Mama knew it would. “Yes, where should I put it?”
Mama leads her toward the table, ending the conversation and Bruce lets out a whoosh of relief. “Gonna owe Mama Louise for that one,” he tells the rest of us.
I clap him on the back. “She won’t let you forget.”
Back from putting the horse in the barn, and catching just enough of that conversation to get the gist of it, Shayanne offers helpfully, “And don’t worry, Mindy has Leo and Riley, so her and Cooper will be too busy keeping them out of the chicken coop to sneak off to the hayloft.
” Her two boys are nearly as feral as their momma is.
“And there goes Ford,” Brody adds, pointing to his son as he disappears through the front door.
“Shit,” I hiss. “Do you think we should send them some backup?”
That’s a lot of children to corral. Ford is trouble with a capital T, and Leo and Riley would ride right along to hell with him.
My boy, Johnny, won’t be any trouble, and Aspen will stay out of trouble by shadowing him.
Cindy Lou and Maisie, James’ girls, will just boss anyone (read: everyone) around, but still…
seven kids under ten? I would need backup for that.
Bruce shrugs. “Cooper will yell if he needs help.”
That decided, we make our way to the table to check out the spread, and mostly to see if we can sneak a bite without getting caught by Mama.
“I just checked the ribs,” I inform everyone. “Should be ready shortly.”
“Dibs on the first rack,” James shouts, his hand thrusting into the air.
“Ain’t it supposed to be guests first?” Brody grumbles.
“You’re no guest,” Luke laughs. “You’re family.”
“What about ladies first?” Shayanne quips.
“Do you know any?” Brody taunts right back, in that sibling way where they don’t mean anything by it but there’s still every possibility they’ll end up tussling in the yard over the things they’ve said.
Rix steps up and barks, “Lady, present and accounted for.” Of all of the wives, she’s the least ladylike of them all, but no one dares to tell her that. She’d probably shoot us, or tinker with our trucks and leave us stranded out in the back forty.
“Why don’t we worry about the food when it’s ready,” Mama Louise suggests. “For now, how about a bit of horseshoes?”
We have two horseshoe pits already set in place, but we have more people than usual so the math ain’t mathin’. “Brackets?” I offer.
“Men versus ladies,” Shayanne says pointedly, daring me to say she’s not a lady like her brother did.
I’m not that stupid though. I know all too well the sharpness of her claws and bite of her canines, figuratively not literally, but even that was enough for me and I always give her a wide berth. She fights dirty.
“Choose your teams,” I say instead.
That settled, we make quick work of partnering up. Mama looks over us proudly as we pair a Bennett brother with a Tannen brother for each of our three teams. And as we line up to play, Shayanne declares, “Winners get first dibs on food.”
“You have to leave some for the rest of us though,” Bruce reminds James, who throws his hands wide like ‘who me?’ as he tries to look innocent.
“Your plates are getting piled higher and higher,” Sophie reminds him.
“I’m a growing boy,” he quips, patting his flat belly.
We’re all big eaters. We’re hard workers, and the two go hand in hand.
“Deal,” I agree for all the men. It won’t matter anyway.
We’re gonna win, then we’ll each let our wives go first. They’ll make kid plates, and once that’s done, the women will get food.
And last but not least, we’ll make plates.
We all know this already, despite acting like this is a high stakes game we’re playing.
Bruce and James take their position against Allyson and Katelyn.
This’ll be an easy win for the boys, I think as James throws his first horseshoe and gets a ringer. His next one goes wide, and Katelyn makes both of hers in the dirt, but the inning settles with the boys earning four points.
That’s when the ladies start whispering and giggling like a pack of plotting hyenas.
Bruce is up next and his first shoe is a leaner. We clap and cheer him on. “You got the next one, man.”
And he probably would’ve, except right as he’s lining up his shot, Allyson strolls on over, casual as you please, and grabs a handful of Bruce’s ass. His aim goes squirrely, sending the shoe in the grass and missing the dirt pit completely. Hell, it might as well have landed in the next county.
“Woman,” he growls. “That is cheating.”
“You mispronounced strategy,” she sasses back.
“It’s interference, at least!” Bobby grumbles.
Rix claps her hands. “Winning tactic is more like it. Look out boys.”
“Two can play that game,” Bruce answers, stepping up right behind his wife. None of us hear what he says in her ear, but her whole face flushes pink and when he steps back to give her room to take her shot, I swear her knees are knocking.
I guess Bruce has his own strategy. Whatever it is, I approve.
Because it’s game on.