said with a light chuckle. “Which is why you need to relax and trust me when I tell you it will all work out. Find out if the Pro Bono Partnership can use you. Then go from there.”
Collin nodded, a slight degree of uncertainty lingering in his eyes. He did trust his father, but his future prospects still felt daunting. He took a sip of his own drink, wincing as the bitter fluid burned the back of his throat.
Matthew laughed, “You’re not a scotch man, I take it!”
“Sorry, Pops! I’m more of a bourbon guy like Uncle Mark.”
His father winked at him. “I’ll be sure to pick up a bottle just for you. Now, tell me about these girls you’re planning to bring home, hoping your mother won’t be tracking!”
* * *
Pulling his new car past the gates of Stallion-Briscoe Ranch, Collin was surprised by the intensity of emotion that suddenly overwhelmed him. It happened every time he returned to his uncle’s home. Stallion-Briscoe Ranch was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle ranch, an equestrian center and an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services. With the property being central to Austin, Houston, Dallas and Fort Worth, the ranch had made quite a name for itself.
Back in the day, Edward Briscoe, the ranch’s original owner, had been one of the original black cowboys. Not long after the birth of his three daughters—Eden and the twins, Marla and Marah—he and his first wife had expanded their Texas longhorn operation, adding two twenty-thousand-square-foot event barns and a country bed-and-breakfast.
After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had gifted the property to his daughter and new son-in-law, her love for a Stallion ending the conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. With her father wanting to sell the ranch, John Stallion wanting to buy the property and Marah interfering at every turn, their acquaintance had gotten off to a contentious start. Under the umbrella of Stallion Enterprises and managed by brothers Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, the ranch had grown exponentially. It was now a resource for several government programs that assisted children and families in need. It was a community center of sorts and a bright light in the Dallas area. But the ranch was still home to all the Stallions and the pride and joy of the family.
Eleven years ago, Collin had been sent to Stallion-Briscoe Ranch as a part of his court-ordered plea agreement for stealing Matthew Stallion’s car. It was where he had found family and a sense of belonging. He’d grown up at the ranch, and returning to where it had all started for him punched him in the gut every time.
His father and his uncles were all standing on the front porch as he stepped out of his car. Pride registered over their expressions, broad chests pushed forward as they moved down the porch steps to greet him and inspect his ride.
“Congratulations, nephew!” Mark Stallion said as he wrapped Collin in a heavy bear hug.
John and Luke Stallion echoed the sentiment. “When did you get home, son?” his uncle John asked.
“Yesterday.”
“Nice ride!” Luke exclaimed. “Somebody did something right.”
“Collin actually went to college and studied,” John said. He shot his brother a look. “And he completed his undergrad in three years. He didn’t take the five-year route like some other people we know.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Luke queried. “I’ve been out of school and managing my own division in the company for how many years now, and you still keep harping on the fact that it took me a little longer to find my way!”
Matthew chuckled, “When you pay him back for those extra semesters I’m sure he’ll let it go.”
“That would be a start,” John said teasingly as they all laughed heartily.
Luke turned his attention back to his nephew. “So, what are your plans? You make any yet?”
“Still trying to figure it out,” Collin answered as he shot his father a look.
Matthew nodded. “Collin might do some pro bono work while he gets himself acclimated. He doesn’t know yet if corporate law is what he wants to do.”
John nodded. “Nothing wrong with that. Take your time and don’t rush into anything. Success comes when you love what you’re doing, and it doesn’t feel like work.”
“Actually,” Mark added, “I might be able to use you around here while you figure it out.”
“Here?” Collin’s eyes widened.
“We could use another mentor for our youth program. You went through it, so you’d be perfect. It’s only part-time and it doesn’t pay much, but it’ll put some change into your pocket until you find something else.”
Collin glanced at his father and Matthew shrugged, lifting his hands as if he were surrendering.
“I didn’t say anything,” Matthew said. “I told you everything will always work out when you need it to. You just need to have faith.”
Mark looked from one to the other, a confused expression on his face. “What am I missing?”
Matthew laughed, patting his son on the back. Before either could respond, John’s wife, Marah, called to them from the front porch. “Breakfast! Come eat, please!”
* * *
Collin slid back into the comfort of the family dynamics like he hadn’t been away at school for three years earning a bachelor’s degree in political science and another three earning a Juris Doctor. Summers when he hadn’t taken classes, he had interned. First, for a private marketing and communications firm, then a local senator at the Capitol building, and for the past two summers, with Mass Legal Aid Services. The experiences had helped him grow and now he was home.
As the oldest grandchild in the family, he’d always heard his name called first and often. He was pleasantly surprised to see that his cousins and brother were now old enough to step up, the adults no longer looking to him first to run and fetch things or to corral the younger kids.
He sat between his father and his uncle Mark, listening as his aunt Marah’s father told one of the bawdy jokes he was known for. The women were all shaking their heads and admonishing the old man to keep things G-rated for the many little ears hanging on to every word he was saying, while the youngsters hoped he would slip up and say something out of turn.
Looking around the table, Collin was in awe of how everyone had seemed to age, still themselves, but not. Grandpa Edward sat at the head of the table. He’d been gray before, but his head of silver hair had thinned considerably. Shortly after the death of Juanita, his second wife, he’d suffered a stroke. Collin had been in high school then, and although it had been a few years since the old man’s health had failed him, Grandpa Edward still struggled with his speech. He also walked with a limp, and one arm was locked tight to his side, permanently disabled. He was particularly cantankerous, too.
Marah fussed over him despite his constant bellowing to be left to his own devices. He loved to spend most of his time in the playroom on the second floor, watching the younger children play, and slipping five-dollar bills into their pockets when their parents weren’t looking. He and Collin had often fished together in the pond on the other side
