seemed like a race to see which brother could read the message first. Not that she had a view of anyone’s screens from her seat on the opposite side of the table, but curiosity had Vivienne scooting closer to the edge of her chair.
Cole’s fingers were already flying across the electronic keyboard, likely because he wanted to be the first to respond. She was sensing a competitive edge to the middle Dalton son.
Luckily, Zach didn’t appear to have the same sense of urgency to reply, because he announced, “Looks like Dad just made an offer on some property a few miles away.”
“That’s fantastic,” Lydia said. “Where is it?”
“He said Sawmill Station,” Zach replied. “I know we’re still pretty new to Rust Creek and I’ve heard of Sawmill Road. But I’ve never heard of a ranch by that name.”
Lydia tilted her head. “That’s because Sawmill Station isn’t a ranch. It’s an old abandoned train depot.”
“Why would Dad make an offer on an abandoned train depot?” Cole asked as he continued typing.
Zach’s phone made another ping. “I’d ask him, but I can’t dial out when my phone keeps buzzing with incoming texts from you.”
“I just told him that I’m here at the Circle D with you and we can swing by to check it out.”
“I know,” Zach told his brother, holding up his phone. “I can read.”
Lydia looked at her watch. “We have another hour before our appointment at Maverick Manor in town. Since Sawmill Station is on the way, we could swing by and check it out. Would you mind, Vivienne?”
She leaned back slowly in her chair to prevent herself from sliding under the table to get away from Cole’s penetrating stare. Anticipation hummed through the kitchen and it was obvious that buying this property was a monumental occasion for the Dalton family. Normally, she liked to meet with her clients at their homes or workplaces because seeing them in their natural surroundings gave her a better sense of their personalities, which translated to a fuller picture of how they envisioned their big day. However, tagging along on a private family outing was surely beyond the boundaries of her job description.
Yet all three of them looked so eager she couldn’t very well deny them their side trip. And they could just as easily discuss bouquets and music playlists in the car. Besides, this was her last appointment of the day. The only thing waiting for her at home was a to-go box containing half of a three-day-old club sandwich, and an unsocial guinea pig who refused to come out of its cage.
Vivienne managed a weak smile and said, “Sure. Why not?”
* * *
Cole should’ve just driven his own truck, but GPS navigational systems were still spotty this far out and Lydia was the only person who knew exactly where they were going. They could’ve gone caravan style, but Cole had never been the type to blindly follow while one of his brothers took the lead. Riding together seemed like the most logical solution.
Of course, that was before he realized that he’d be crammed into the back seat of the crew cab next to the hoity-toity wedding planner who kept her body so stiff there wasn’t a bump or pothole along the way that would dislodge her from her seat-belted perch.
Fortunately, the soft fabric of her overlapping skirt wasn’t as rigid and would gape open a little wider every time his brother navigated a curve on the winding, narrow road that led to the new property. Cole had just gotten a peek of the freckle on Vivienne’s thigh when the truck made a sharp right at a faded yellow sign that might’ve once read Sawmill Station.
“I thought Dad was going to buy an actual ranch,” Zach commented as he slowed the vehicle in front of a run-down brick building that was way too enormous to be a barn or a stable.
“It’s certainly a far cry from the Circle D,” Cole agreed. “But Dad said he was buying it for the acreage. I guess we’re supposed to envision it once we get those old structures torn down and some pastures mapped out.”
Lydia’s yelp from the front seat was more like a squeak. “You can’t just tear down those buildings. They’re historical landmarks.”
Cole waited for Zach to put the truck in Park before unbuckling his seat belt. As he hopped out, he asked, “Are we going to run a ranch or a museum?”
He walked around to the passenger side of the truck, where Vivienne was tentatively placing one high-heeled foot on the running board in order to climb down. Cole reached out instinctively and cupped her elbow as she descended onto the mud-caked asphalt. Feeling a tug low in his belly at her nearness, he had to force himself to let go when she began to straighten her skirt.
“I recently helped out on an article about all the abandoned railway lines in Montana,” Lydia said with some awe as the four of them stood in a row in the weed-infested gravel driveway. “A hundred or so years ago, this property used to be a feed mill and ran adjacent to a logging camp. Back then, the best way for businesses to distribute their products throughout the West was by freight car. The original owners laid some tracks and opened a small depot, naming the place Sawmill Station. Their vision was shortsighted, though, because, as you know, the logging industry never stayed in one place very long, so the camp moved on. Then as more ranchers came out west, the feed mill’s business boomed. Unfortunately, this location was pretty remote, and with the invention of eighteen-wheelers and interstates, using trains way out here fell by the wayside. The company had to change with the times and eventually relocated to Kalispell.”
Cole had always thought himself to be too practical for nostalgia, but the acreage was vast and grassy if he looked past the buildings. Plus, it was kind of cool to own a place with a little bit of history, a place that someone else had once sunk their own blood and sweat into. Maybe it was all those years living in barracks on military bases, but he was itching to replant some roots and this neglected-looking property needed him. It felt good to be needed again.
The possibility of a challenge flared up inside of him and he wondered out loud, “So maybe instead of bulldozing everything to the ground, we can repurpose some of these buildings. If only we knew what was what.”
“Down at the Gazette offices, I think we have an old photo of this place in its heyday,” Lydia explained, walking toward a smaller structure. “I believe that this peeling white building up front is the actual depot, but because nobody in town came this far out, it never saw too many passengers. That huge brick monstrosity back there is a freight house, where they’d store the loaded cars.”
“Looks like they left one behind when they closed down operations.” Vivienne pointed to an abandoned railcar sitting at a crooked angle, the lower half almost hidden by overgrown grass and the inside probably home to several different species of critters. Cole watched the wedding planner as she studied their surroundings. He’d half expected her to jump back into the truck at the first sight of a prairie dog. But she surprised him when she said, “There’s something alluring and fascinating about it all, isn’t there? I mean, all that rustic brick is totally back in style right now. And the tiny depot is adorable. Can’t you just picture what it would look like with a fresh coat of white paint and some flower boxes planted around the platform?”
“What used to be the platform, you mean.” Cole squinted at the collapsed, rotted-out planks.
“Let’s go check out the freight house,” Vivienne suggested, surprising him again by leading the way. Her legs trembled
