greeted her at the front entrance, her father’s booming voice calling her name from the kitchen. Marah could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t so happy with her. Before she could make her way into the family room, her older sister Eden appeared at her side, her head waving from side to side.
“I swear, Marah! Why do you have to keep Daddy riled up?” she said with a hushed breath.
Marah shrugged. “Don’t start, Eden,” she answered, her eyes rolling as she followed on her sister’s heels.
Her twin was seated in the kitchen at the center island, shaking her head knowingly at Marah. The two women were spitting images of each other from the wealth of their curls to their warm café-au-lait complexions and thin lips. The only physical attribute that separated one from the other was the last of the excess baby weight Marla still carried around her hips and midsection.
Where the twins were the spitting image of their father, older sister Eden had taken after their mother with her deep chocolate-brown complexion, large, round, blue-black eyes and jet-black hair. Every time the family looked at Eden they were reminded of the woman, a thought which sometimes brought joy and sometimes dropped a cloud of melancholy over their spirits, knowing that Hazel Briscoe wouldn’t be there for times like now when one or the other needed to be kept in line.
“What?” Marah said, tossing the other women an icy glare.
“You know what, young lady,” Edward said, turning from the pot of chili he was cooking on the stovetop to face her. “What did you think you were doing?”
“Stopping you from making a big mistake.”
“Munchkin,” he said, calling her by the pet name he’d christened her with when she’d been just weeks old. “My selling this ranch is not a mistake.”
Marah rolled her eyes, moving to take the empty seat beside Eden. She leaned into her sister’s shoulder. “Which one of you told on me?”
Eden shrugged, tossing a look toward Marla.
“Well, I didn’t,” Marla said. “Daddy was the one who called to tell me.”
Marah looked toward her father, an air of defiance painting her expression.
“Don’t you worry about how I found out, girl. Just know that I did. Now what did you do with dem papers I needed to sign?”
Marah said nothing, her gaze dropping to the floor.
Edward waved a spoon in her direction. “Don’t make me ask you again, Marah Jean.”
“I gave them back to the Stallions.”
Edward rolled his eyes, shaking his head from side to side. “I swear!” Dropping the spoon onto the counter he wiped his hands on a cotton dishcloth, them moved out of the room toward his office. When he was well out of earshot, both Eden and Marla started to laugh.
“Did you really just barge into their board meeting?” Marla asked.
“Kind of.”
“So what was he like?” Eden asked, curiosity pulling at them all.
“Who?”
“This John Stallion guy. I’ve heard he’s a real business shark.”
Marah suddenly blushed, a rush of color heating her cheeks. She stammered, searching for words. “He…well…he was…”
Before either of the Briscoe women could say another word, Edward moved back into the room. A wide smile filled his face as he cuddled Marla’s two-month-old son in his arms.
“Look who was wide awake,” the man gushed, nuzzling his face into the infant’s neck. “He was just laying there waiting patiently for his mama. This here’s one good baby. Boy wasn’t even crying.”
Marla extended her arms as her father passed her the child. Marah grinned, moving from her seat to her sister’s side. “He gets bigger and bigger each time I see him, Marla,” she said, pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead.
“And heavier and heavier,” Marla chuckled.
Edward fanned a hand in her direction. “You need to feed that boy some real food, that’ll fatten my boy up.”
Marla rolled her eyes skyward. “He’ll get real food soon enough, Daddy. Breast milk is just fine for now.”
Her father scowled. “You kids don’t know nothing. Need to give him a real bottle with a little cereal in it. That’s what your mama and I use to give you three.”
“And I’m still trying to get the weight off my hips!” Eden exclaimed.
They all laughed as Edward moved back to his pots. He peered in quickly, giving the concoction another quick stir.
They all fell silent for a quick minute as they watched Marla and the baby, marveling at the new life that had blessed their family. Edward broke the quiet.
“You need to get dem papers back, Marah.”
“But, Daddy…”
“But nothing. I’ve made my decision, honey. It’s time. I’m tired and running this ranch takes more out of me than I have to give.” The man let out a deep sigh.
“But, Daddy, if Marla and Michael keep running the day-to-day operations and I know Eden and I would be more than willing to take over some of the other responsibilities.”
“Munchkin, for all you know Marla and Michael might have other plans. Marla needs to be thinking about little Mike there, not this place. She’s got a family now and Eden needs to be thinking about having one with that new husband of hers. And you don’t need any more distractions keeping you from finding your own man. This ranch has just become an excuse for all of us to not go on with our lives. Besides, if you and Eden want to see that new business of yours do well, then you two will need to invest all the time and energy that you have there and not be worried about this ranch.”
Marah persisted. “I don’t think that’s fair, Daddy. This ranch is our lives, too. You haven’t even asked us what we wanted to do. I really think we should all talk about it.”
“I don’t need to talk about it. I’ve made up my mind,” the man said, his expression showing that he had no intentions of discussing it further.
“But, Daddy—”
Edward held up his hand and stalled her words. “Just get dem papers, Marah. That’s all you need to do.”
The family had all gathered for lunch, not another word spoken about the Stallions or the sale of the family home. After excusing himself to go take a quick nap, Edward had retired to his room and his children had discussed their options. Marah was only slightly dismayed by her sibling’s attitudes: Eden and Marla not wanting to rock Edward’s boat, but all agreeing that none of them wanted to see what their parent’s had built sold away—and definitely not to a corporation that didn’t have a clue.
Down in the stables, Marah groomed Brutus, the chestnut gelding that had been gifted to her on her twenty-fourth birthday.
