Ryan
Book Eighteen of the Farraday Country Series
The air at the Farraday ranch buzzed, thick with the happy chaos only a sprawling family gathering could generate. Laughter competed with the distant sizzle of ribs on Uncle Sean’s massive grill and the joyful shrieks of children engaged in an energetic game of tag that seemed to encompass the entire back acreage. It was Aunt Eileen’s birthday, and like everything the Farradays did, the celebration was an all-out affair.
Ryan Farraday leaned against a post on the back porch, a half-empty bottle of cool beer in his hand, and surveyed the scene. He loved these moments – the easy camaraderie, the unconditional welcome extended to anyone who stepped foot on the ranch, and the sheer volume of love packed into one place. Still, a small, unfamiliar pang echoed in his chest lately. Watching Morgan and Valerie huddled close on the porch swing, Neil and Nora sharing a private smile by the steps, Owen and Connie practically attached at the hip near the drinks cooler, Paxton keeping a watchful eye on Sandra and David near the sprawling oak, and Quinn and Eloise somehow managing to make supervising the kid’s dessert table look romantic… well, it made being the last single Oklahoma brother feel distinctly… single.
“All right, all right, make way!” Quinn’s voice cut through the general hubbub. He and Eloise carefully maneuvered a stunning, handcrafted rocking chair onto the porch, its dark wood gleaming even in the fading light.
A collective gasp went through the nearby relatives, followed by appreciative murmurs. Aunt Eileen, emerging from the kitchen with a fresh platter of Toni’s famous cake balls, stopped dead in her tracks, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, Quinn! You didn’t!”
“He most certainly did. Happy birthday, Aunt Eileen.” Eloise beamed, her eyes sparkling as she looked from the chair to Quinn.
“It’s beautiful.” Eileen ran a reverent hand over the smooth, curved armrest. “Just beautiful.” She settled into the chair, letting out a contented sigh as it began to rock gently. Her wide grin beaming brighter than sunshine. “Absolutely perfect.”
Ryan smiled. Trust Quinn to create something both practical and a work of art.
A nudge at his elbow pulled Ryan’s attention away. Mike Davis, the carpenter who’d been heading up the finish work on the restorations before aggravating an old knee injury, stood beside him wearing a stiff brace and looking decidedly uncomfortable amidst the relaxed family vibe. Mike was a good guy, a heck of a worker, but clearly out of his element here.
“Hey, Ryan.” Mike nodded as Morgan joined them by the railing. “Got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?” Ryan took another sip of his beer.
Mike shifted his weight, his gaze darting towards the group around the rocking chair. “It’s about my sister, Nicole. The one taking my place while I’m having surgery.”
“Right.” Morgan nodded. “Did she change her mind?”
Ryan sure hoped not. Finding high caliber workers around this neck of the woods was nearly impossible. If Mike’s kid sister was half as good as he was, she’d fit in just fine.
“No.” Mike shook his head.
“Good.” Morgan chuckled. “Hope she knows what she’s getting into. This crew can be a handful.”
“She knows,” Mike’s brow furrowed slightly, “she’s tough. And she’s good. Maybe better’n me.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… well, she knows how to hold her own around construction guys. I’m not worried about that.”
Ryan leaned back against the railing. “Ok. Then what?”
“I’ve told her that the filming can sometimes make getting the job done a little more challenging.”
“Tell me about it.” Morgan sighed.
“So she’s prepared for that, but what worries me isn’t the crew or the filming as much as…” Mike’s gaze sharpened. “Well, as Jet. That guy is all over women like white on rice.”
Ryan exchanged a quick glance with Morgan. Jet was a skilled worker, but Paxton had mentioned the guy having wandering eyes and hands back during the charity build. They’d kept a closer eye on him since. “Don’t you worry, Mike. Nicole will be fine.”
“We look out for everyone on our sites,” Morgan added, his tone firm but reassuring. “Consider her under Farraday protection. We’ll treat her like our own sister.”
“You don’t have a sister.” The frown on Mike’s forehead deepened.
“We have sisters-in-law and cousins. Same thing,” Ryan reassured.
Mike visibly relaxed, a grateful smile touching his lips. “Thanks, guys. Appreciate it. Just… you know... kid sister.”
“We get it.” Ryan clapped Mike on the shoulder. “Seriously, no worries.”
They all shared a chuckle, the tension easing. As Mike wandered off towards the food, Morgan nudged Ryan. “Speaking of sisters-in-law, looks like Owen and Connie finally set a date.”
Ryan followed Morgan’s gaze to where Owen was showing Connie something on his phone, both of them smiling. “About time. Heard anything about the plans?”
“Fall wedding, here at the ranch. Bigger than mine and Valerie or Neil and Nora’s wedding.”
“Any wedding would be bigger than yours. You guys eloped.”
Morgan shrugged, then leaned closer. “Question is, will Mom make the trip down for Owen’s?”
Ryan sighed, swirling the beer in his bottle. That was the million-dollar question. His mom, Mariah, hadn’t exactly mellowed regarding Texas. She’d been suspiciously quiet since Patrick, their dad, had started making regular trips since his first visit with the reclaimed barn wood, but Ryan wasn’t holding his breath for a sudden change of heart. “Don’t know, Morg. Dad’s working on her, but…”
“But she’s Mom,” Morgan finished. “Stubborn as they come. Feel sorry for Dad sometimes.” He paused. “She might have held hope when Neil married that the rest of you would all move home and settle down after this reality TV gig is finished, but it’s pretty obvious that none of us are moving back there any time soon.” His expression grew more serious. “Or are you thinking of going back?”
Tuckers Bluff and Uncle Sean’s family had felt like home when they were kids and the years hadn’t changed that. With all his brothers settling in Texas, he had no real interest in returning to Oklahoma. Maybe once in a while for a project or two, or to hang out with his parents, but settling down? No. Texas was his home now. Ryan shook his head.
Morgan flipped his free hand in a there-you-go gesture. “Then if Mom doesn’t come down for Owen’s wedding, she might miss out on seeing any of her sons get married in person.”
The thought settled heavy in Ryan’s gut. Morgan was right. If their mother couldn't overcome whatever had caused the rift years ago, she was the one who’d truly be left out. He watched Eloise laugh at something Quinn said across the porch, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the Texas heat or the beer. Yeah, settling down here definitely had its appeal.
* * * *
Nicole Davis surveyed her hastily made bed and the three piles of her belongings. Definitely taking, maybe taking, and probably not. The definitely taking pile was alarmingly small compared to the maybe. How long was this temporary gig in Tuckers Bluff really going to last? Mike had said at least a few weeks, but could drag on as long as a month or two while Farraday Construction waited for his knee to heal post-surgery. If she was only needed for about a month, warm weather clothes would do, but if he took longer, cold weather could descend on residents on a whim. Even in Oklahoma, there were days she’d swear Mother Nature was bipolar.
She held up a favorite pair of worn-soft jeans against a newer, stiffer pair. Laundry. That was another unknown. Would she have easy access? She probably should have asked Mike more about her accommodations, but he seemed so distracted and worried. Probably about his upcoming surgery, so she didn’t press him much. Surely, whatever he’d arranged would be just fine.
“Still sorting, dear?” Martha, her parents’ next-door neighbor and designated house-watcher, poked her head into the room. As always, her silver hair was perfectly coiffed.
Nicole sighed, dropping both pairs of jeans onto the definite pile. “Trying to. It’s hard guessing how long I’ll actually be gone, or what I’ll really need.”
“Oh, I know the feeling. Every time George and I go on one of those week-long cruises, I’d pack enough for a month.” Martha chuckled. “Better safe than sorry, I always say. Especially with clothes.” She peered at the piles. “Isn’t it exciting?”
“Packing?”
Martha was as good a neighbor as anyone could ask for, concerned and attentive and yet not always in your business. Or at least if she was, she hid it well. But sometimes following her train of thought was a challenge for Nicole. Maybe it was a generational thing. “No, dear. You’re going to be working for those television cousins.”
Oh. Nicole nodded. “Yes. I guess I am.” She’d been so concerned about her brother’s fall that aggravated an old football injury, leaving him unable to climb ladders or put any real weight on his bad knee, that she hadn’t really given a whole lot of thought about who she’d be working for.
“They all seem like nice people. And from what I’ve seen of that show, easy on the eyes.” Rolling her eyes in a mischievous way, she dramatically fanned herself with her hand. “Might be nice to have some nice scenery while you work.”
Nicole laughed, shaking her head. “I’m just focused on doing a good job filling in for Mike. He’ll need this job after he’s recovered from surgery.” She glanced around the room, the quiet feeling amplified now. “It’s just… strange. This house feels so empty since Mom and Dad moved to Florida.” At first she’d thought retiring in the Sunshine State would be great for her parents. The way they described the senior community, Nicole wished they’d build communities like that for young people. What she hadn’t expected was how quiet the house would seem without them.
“I know, honey. We all miss them.” Martha’s gaze grew distant for a moment. “Florida. Sunshine year-round. Sometimes I think George and I should pack it all in and head south ourselves.” She sighed wistfully. “Maybe someday.”
“You’d leave your prize-winning roses?” Nicole teased gently.
“Never!” Martha straightened, instantly back to her practical self. “Now, have you talked to Mike again? Gotten any more details about where you’re staying?”
“Not really,” Nicole added a sweater to the definitely pile. West Texas nights could get cool as fall settled in.
“I’m sure it’s going to be lots of fun.” The older woman had probably forgotten the part about Nicole working on a construction site.
Something that to this day made her own mother cringe. From the time when Nicole was a little girl, her mother had tried to interest Nicole in frilly dresses, cute shoes, and ribbons in her hair. To her mother’s chagrin, Nicole was a grade A tomboy. She’d climbed trees with the boys, could throw from left field and reach the catcher in the bread basket to tag a player out without using a cut off man, and beat any boy at arm wrestling without breaking a sweat. All things that had come in handy when she found herself working construction. She could hold her own and even be accepted as one of the guys.
There were always those workers who resented when a woman could work better than they could, but most of the crews just appreciated a good worker and didn’t care if they were male, female, or Martian. Hopefully, the reality show crew were just like any other crew and not full of themselves Hollywood types. Shaking her head, she reached for her steel tip boots and thought, surely her brother would have warned her if there might be any chance of trouble. Then again, he was a man, sometimes oblivious to the hand in front of his face. On a sigh, she tossed her baseball glove on the definite pile. Maybe Martha was right and there might time for some fun after all.
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