Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(7)
The whole quiet thing had only gotten worse in the last few weeks, ever since Miles stumbled over an ex at Miles’s birthday clubbing celebration. And Wes was convinced Miles hadn’t been eating right since then. He’d started to lose weight. Getting him to come on this trip had been as much about getting Miles out of the city, as it was about keeping his eyes on his friend.
Mack got their wagon turned around, and then they began a long, bumpy ride up the dirt road. Wes took some pictures on his phone, both of his companions and the scenery. He wanted to do an online album of their trip for Sophie and Conrad, something they could share with friends and family on social media. Conrad and Derrick were both nervous about being around the horses, and Wes couldn’t wait to document their first time riding one.
The kids kept trying to get up and move around, so excited to see everything at once. Bless the two ladies who kept wrangling them back into their seats. Wes couldn’t deal with kids and their emotional drama. He could barely deal with the emotional drama of his adult friends, much less meltdowns over bedtime or eating their veggies at dinner.
A building finally rose up to greet them, followed by another as the wagon drew closer to the main part of the ranch. Just like the website photos. Wes took it all in. The big, three-story house to the left with its wide porch and big wood sign proclaiming “Bunk House” in red paint. A smaller, single-story house straight ahead with a smaller Office sign. A big red barn in the distance. Corrals and fencing all over the place, with smaller signposts and arrows directing folks to the various amenities. All of it surrounded by dusty land, tended grass and a gorgeous backdrop of the mountains.
“Holy crap,” Sophie exclaimed. “It’s so pretty.”
Wes silently agreed, without giving her the satisfaction of saying “I told you so.” As her default wedding planner, he’d initially been annoyed at her nontraditional choice of a vacation over a wedding shower. He’d been planning his little sister’s wedding for years, and this wasn’t in the playbook. But she’d been obsessed with the American Old West since she was a teenager and had stumbled over reruns of a Pony Express show called The Young Riders. While Wes appreciated the aesthetic of the mostly male cast—hello, young Josh Brolin!—he didn’t see the appeal of the time period. Lack of running water? No, thank you.
The wagon drew a wide circle, then came to a stop in front of the bunkhouse. An older lady in a blue apron stood on the porch with a white-haired man in overalls and a blue ranch polo. The cook and owner, respectively, if Wes recalled the website’s info correctly. His memory wasn’t eidetic but he was supergood with remembering odd information most people didn’t. It had served him well in learning lines for auditions.
Everyone filed off the wagon. Wes didn’t pretend to trip this time, but he did manage to make eye contact with Mack—dark brown eyes Wes could fall into—for about two seconds before Mack looked away.
Interesting.
Once the group had disembarked and assembled in front of the porch, the white-haired man stepped forward. “Howdy! I’m Arthur Garrett, owner of this here establishment. Welcome to the Clean Slate Ranch!”
The two little boys cheered.
“It’s nice to see some young ones in the group today,” Arthur continued. “We’re a family-friendly place here and always have been.”
Ugh. Wes hated the term “family friendly” because it was usually code for “keep out the queers so the children don’t see them.”
“We’re also an open-minded, tolerant place, and always have been. Everyone is welcome here at Clean Slate as long as they remember that.” Arthur seemed to zero in on the dude-bros. “While we here try to give all our guests the most authentic experience possible, this ain’t the eighteen seventies. Among the injury release forms everyone gets to sign, there’s also a conduct form. Discrimination of any sort will not be tolerated, and we reserve the right to keep your deposit and send you home at any time.”
A series of nods spread around the group. Wes sneaked a glance at the women with the boys. They were smiling at each other so lovingly he defaulted them to couple.
“Now that the serious stuff is said,” Arthur went on, “let’s talk about your stay here at the ranch. This land has been in my family for generations, and I’ll repeat some wisdom that’s also been in my family for generations: respect the land, and the land will respect you.”
“What’s that mean, exactly?” Sophie asked.
“An excellent question, young lady. This ranch has thousands of acres of land, much of it unexplored, most of it unfenced. We have foxes and black bear, among others, so while you’re free to walk the marked trails, do not cross any fence lines unless you are on a guided tour with one of the hands. Your safety is our biggest priority while you’re here. And speaking of safety, you’ve all met my grandson, Mack.”
Mack waved from his spot by the wagon, head ducked low to hide most of his face behind the brim of his hat.
Grandson of the owner. Interesting.
“Mack is considered head cowboy around here. He’s in charge of the horses, and he’ll assign you your rides. Most of our horses are rescues, but we’ve worked extensively with the ones who interact with our guests. Those who aren’t safe to be around are kept at a different part of the ranch where our rescuers tend to them.”