The Horsepower of the Holiday

  The Horsepower of the Holiday

  Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers, Book 2

  Liz Isaacson

  Contents

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  The Glover Family

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Sneak Peek! The Construction of Cheer, Chapter One:

  Sneak Peek! The Construction of Cheer, Chapter Two:

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  The Glover Family

  Welcome to Shiloh Ridge Ranch! The Glover family is BIG, and sometimes it can be hard to keep track of everyone.

  There is a more detailed graphic here, on my website. (But it has spoilers! I made it as the family started to get really big, which happens fairly quickly, actually. It has all the couples (some you won’t see for many more books), as well as a lot of the children they have or will have, through about Book 6. It might be easier for you to visualize, though.)

  Here’s how things are right now:

  Lois & Stone (deceased) Glover, 7 children, in age-order:

  1. Bear (Sammy, wife / Lincoln, step-son)

  2. Cactus (Allison, ex-wife / Bryce, son (deceased))

  3. Judge

  4. Preacher

  5. Arizona

  6. Mister

  7. Bishop

  Dawna & Bull (deceased) Glover, 5 children, in age-order:

  1. Ranger

  2. Ward

  3. Ace

  4. Etta

  5. Ida

  Bull and Stone Glover were brothers, so their children are cousins. Ranger and Bear, for example, are cousins, and each the oldest sibling in their families.

  The Glovers know and interact with the Walkers of Seven Sons Ranch. There’s a lot of them too! Here’s a little cheat sheet for you for the Walkers.

  Momma & Daddy: Penny and Gideon Walker

  1. Rhett & Evelyn Walker

  Son: Conrad

  Triplets: Austin, Elaine, and Easton

  2. Jeremiah & Whitney Walker

  Son: Jonah Jeremiah (JJ)

  Daughter: Clara Jean

  Son: Jason

  3. Liam & Callie Walker

  Daughter: Denise

  Daughter: Ginger

  4. Tripp & Ivory Walker

  Son: Oliver

  Son: Isaac

  5. Wyatt & Marcy Walker

  Son: Warren

  Son: Cole

  Son: Harrison

  6. Skyler & Mallery Walker

  Daughter: Camila

  7. Micah & Simone Walker

  Son: Travis (Trap)

  Chapter One

  “Just come on,” Ward said, finishing up the dishes. “It’ll be fun. It’s Winston Lunt, and he’s funny.”

  “Really funny,” Ace added, though he didn’t look up from his phone.

  Ranger Glover looked back and forth between his two brothers, neither of them looking at him. He had enjoyed the comedy of Winston Lunt in the past; he just didn’t feel like leaving the house.

  He supposed he’d already left the house, as he currently sat at the table in the ranch house down the road from the homestead, where he lived with two of his cousins.

  “And he’ll only be in town this weekend?” Ranger asked.

  “Yes,” Ward said. “I need to go, Range. Suck it up and get your smile ready.” He didn’t look over his shoulder this time, and Ranger knew why.

  Victoria Smith. The woman had broken up with Ward six days ago, and he’d been moping around the ranch since.

  Ranger wasn’t sure why. Ward had only been dating her for a couple of months. Maybe only six weeks. No matter what, it wasn’t very long, and he honestly hadn’t seemed that interested in her.

  Ever since Bear had started dating Sammy—and now they were engaged—it was like all the Glovers realized there was a big world out there, with people to find and love.

  Ranger knew that, of course. He’d gone out with a few women in the past, but no one really special in a while. Even if he did go to the new comedy club in town, he knew he wouldn’t meet anyone who interested him nearly as much as Oakley Hatch did.

  And you won’t run into her, he told himself. Or maybe you will.

  Oakley went out a lot. With a lot of different men. At the same time.

  She’d wanted to start a relationship with Ranger a month or two ago, but he’d told her no. He still kicked himself for that at least once a day. And at least once a day, he told himself he’d done the right thing. He wasn’t going to share his girlfriend with another cowboy. The idea that anyone would do that was ludicrous, in his opinion.

  “Fine,” he said. “I could use a laugh.”

  “Yes, you could,” Ace said dryly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Ranger asked, slicing a look at his youngest brother.

  “It means you’ve been pining over that stock car racer,” Ace said.

  “First off,” Ranger said. “I have not been pining. And secondly, she drove in the Formula One circuit, not NASCAR. Two different things, Ace.”

  “Just the fact that you know that is disturbing,” he said with a grin, finally looking up from his phone.

  “It’s not disturbing,” Ward said. “He likes her, Ace. Of course he’s going to know things about her.”

  “Yeah,” Ranger said. “Like the three men she’s dating right now.” He wanted to go back to the east wing at the homestead, change into his gym shorts and a T-shirt, and put something on TV.

  Not car racing.

  Anything but car racing.

  “Are we ready?” Ward asked, joining them at the table. “I can drive, and I’ll even buy the first round of sodas.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” Ace said, standing.

  Ranger got to his feet too, and he said nothing as he followed his brothers through the house to the front door. Ward led the way, and Ranger did love and respect his brother. They worked together closely on the ranch finances, and there was nothing better than an afternoon in his office with Ward.

  The man loved chocolate licorice—something Ranger loved too—and they’d talk about their dad while they had a little sugar binge before they got down to the decimals and digits.

  Ward chatted the whole way to town, and Ranger wondered how he did that. How did he have so much to say, about seemingly everything? Ranger would never know, but he participated enough to keep Ward talking.

  He pulled up to a brick building that had seen better days. Rather, the building had been recently renovated to look old on purpose. The historical society of Three Rivers had preserved the bricks, simply re-cementing them in place. Any new bricks had been purposely made in the same tones and colors, and made to look old so they matched the original ones.

  The comedy club was new in town, as were several other shops, restaurants, and venues. Three Rivers had been enjoying a population boom in recent years, and last Ranger had heard, they’d topped twenty-five thousand people over the summer.

  He thought that was probably because of tourists, who did come to the quaint Texas town in the Panhandle for great food, good hiking, and plenty of hunting.

  Ranger liked to eat, and that was about it.

  “There’s going to be food here, right?” he asked, getting out and eyeing the entrance. It teemed with people, and the air had a good vibe in it. Ranger started to relax, and it was easier to get through the crowd and inside the club than he’d anticipated.

  It was dark inside, with only low lights on every table. Ward stepped up to the bar and ordered sodas for the three of them, and he showed their tickets to a woman who took them to a table on the left side of the stage.

  Ranger nodded to a few men he knew, but he stuck close to his brothers. They didn’t get to spend a ton of time with just each other, as they all worked the generational family ranch with six of their male cousins.

  Ward took a sip of his soda and made a face. “Too much syrup.”

  “You always forget to say light,” Ranger said. He didn’t understand syrup in soda anyway. He honestly hardly ever drank the stuff, and he eyed his tall glass of fizzy liquid like it would rot his insides.

  Since his embarrassing discussion with Oakley about her dating habits, he’d taken up weight lifting in a more aggressive fashion. He had to have something to occupy his mind, and the upcoming birthing season wasn’t enough.

  “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” a man said into the mic, the sound nearly dea
fening. “If you’ll take your seats, we’re ready to start the show!”

  Most of the crowd cheered and clapped, and Ranger could do the latter easily. He did, glad when the announcer kept talking. “We have a very special guest with us tonight. Straight from the streets of New York, we’ve got a homegrown, tried-and-true Texan ready to take the stage. Everyone welcome home Winston Lunt!”

  The people went nuts, and Ranger decided to really get into the spirit of things, and he whistled through his teeth. Ward grinned at him, but Ace shot him a glare.

  “What?” Ranger asked, still clapping. “I’m not the only one who whistled.”

  “You’re always calling too much attention to yourself.”

  Ranger stared at Ace, but he turned back to the stage. What he’d just said couldn’t be further from the truth. Ranger didn’t do anything, ever, to call attention to himself.

  Winston Lunt came out onto the stage wearing an enormous cowboy hat. He looked ridiculous, and several people were twittering with giggles already.

  “Howdy, folks,” he said, the words barely comprehensible. “It’s good to be back in Texas. Can I get the lights up for a moment?”

  The house lights came up, and he held up one hand above his eyes, searching, scanning, scouring. “Nope. I don’t see a single man without a cowboy hat.”

  More laughter.

  “Oh, there’s one.” Winston pointed to a table about halfway back. “Sir, can you stand up and explain yourself? Yes…you…right there…I can see you.” He made an exaggerated huffing sound. “In the pink shirt…. Yes, you. Stand up so we can—oh.”

  Ranger grinned from ear to ear, because Winston had not called on a man. But a woman.

  “Well, the pink shirt should’ve given it away, right?” Winston looked like he might throw up, and he paced to the other side of the stage. “Sorry, sir. I mean, ma’am.” He placed one flat palm against his forehead, which knocked his cowboy hat off his head.

  He was funny, from his jokes to his facial expressions, to his physical stunt humor. Ranger watched as the woman in the pink shirt sat down, and his eyes caught on another woman a table over from her.

  His breath caught in his lungs, hooked there by sudden ice. Oakley. She sat with a man on her right and another on her left. Surely she wasn’t out with two men at the same time.

  Ranger could barely focus after that, and he kept watching her table, eventually learning that the woman across from Oakley was with the guy on her right. Her boyfriend—or more likely, the man she happened to be out with that night—got up and left about halfway through the set, and Ranger never did see him come back.

  The show ended, and he stood and cheered along with everyone else. If he stayed over here for a few minutes, pretending to finish his drink and clean up, perhaps Oakley would leave the club first.

  He secretly rejoiced when Ace knocked his drink and spilled it, as he took a few minutes to find some napkins and mop up the dark cola. By then, the club was clearing out nicely, and Ranger thought there might be a chance he could get out of there without encountering Oakley. He’d lost track of her since the end of the show, and he refused to look around and try to find her.

  “Can you take these to the trash?” Ace asked, shoving the wet napkins into Ranger’s hands.

  “Gross, no,” Ranger said, dropping them on the table.

  “It’s Haven,” he hissed. “Please, help me. Hey, Haven.” The last two words were spoken in a much louder voice with plenty of swagger.

  “Ace,” she said, and she leaned her hip into one of the chairs at their table, her smile pretty and genuine.

  Ranger wanted to grumble and roll his eyes. Instead, he picked up the mess of napkins and turned to go throw them away. He suddenly wanted to get out of there.

  The trash can sat over by the bathrooms, and he tossed in the wet and sticky napkins before looking at his hands. One glance over his shoulder told him Ace wasn’t ready to leave yet. Ranger started walking again, intending to go into the men’s room and clean up.

  He ran right into a solid body.

  He swung his attention forward, automatically reaching out to steady whomever he’d hit. He regretted it the moment his sticky hands touched their arms.

  “Sorry,” he said, looking down at the woman there.

  She had dark trails of mascara running down her face, her tears creating the mess of makeup on her face. It still wasn’t hard to tell it was Oakley Hatch.

  “Oakley,” he said, his heart beating in a strange, syncopated way. “What’s wrong?” He glanced over her shoulder to the empty area behind her. “Are you okay?”

  Stupid question, he thought as she sniffled.

  Her dark eyes flashed with recognition and then what looked dangerously like anger. “Do I look okay to you, Ranger?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “Sorry. What can I do to help?”

  She reached up and wiped her fingers under her eyes, but that honestly didn’t do much to help. In fact, it only made the makeup smear further.

  He pulled his hands away from her upper arms, both of them sticking for a frightening second before releasing. “Sorry,” he said again. “I was carrying these sticky napkins, and I…you’re sticky now too.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said, still glaring up at him. “I’m going to go home and shower this horrific night right down the drain.”

  “You didn’t like the show?” Ranger asked, falling back a step. He didn’t dare touch anything in case he couldn’t let go of it.

  “No,” she said. “I didn’t like the show.” She stepped around him, obviously headed for the exit. Before she’d taken three steps, she turned back to him. Gone was the anger and frustration in her expression. Now, she wore anxiety tinged with hope. “Could you maybe give me a ride home?”

  Ranger’s eyebrows went up. “You don’t have a ride?”

  Oakley’s eyes shot fire toward him, but he wasn’t sure if it was the good, desirable kind he wanted to get burned by, or the bad, dangerous kind he should run from.

  He found himself taking a step forward not back. “I can take you,” he said, though Ward had driven. “If you’ll tell me the story of why you don’t have a ride home.”

  She looked him up and down, some of her normal confidence returning. “Fine,” she said. “I can live with that. I can’t live with your sticky hands near me, so you better wash up first.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ranger said quietly, tipping his hat and walking away. In the men’s room, he texted Ward that they needed to give someone a ride. His brother wanted to know who, but Ranger stuck his hands under the water and started washing so he wouldn’t have to answer.

  He looked at himself in the mirror, his sky blue eyes also filled with anxiety and hope. “You’re in trouble, cowboy,” he whispered to his reflection. “You should just drop her off and go home.”

  No one had said that wasn’t the plan, but Ranger was actually hoping this was the second—or was it the third?—chance with Oakley that he’d been praying for.

  He closed his eyes so he wasn’t looking into his own eyes, and said, “Dear Lord, if it be Thy will, let this be the second chance I’ve been praying for.”

  Then he left the men’s room, half expecting Oakley to be gone. She wasn’t, but she stood right where he’d left her. Their eyes met, and Ranger couldn’t have called down fire from heaven hotter than the current running between him and Oakley.

  “Ready?” he asked, and she nodded. He faced the rest of the club, easily finding Ward and Ace. “Okay,” he said, putting his hand on the small of her back like it was a natural place for him to touch. It actually felt natural, and Ranger didn’t know what that meant.