Sassy Cowgirl Kisses by Kathy Fawcett
Chapter 4
“The prodigal son returns at last!”
“Hah,” Ash laughed as he walked into the imposing West Ranch kitchen and hugged Ridge hard. Either his dad had gotten shorter, he noted, or he himself got taller while he was away. “There’s a lot of implications with that comment,” he said. “It’s been a while, but I haven’t exactly been running away.”
“I know, I know,” Ridge conceded, reluctantly loosening his hold on his youngest. “And you’ve got the diploma to prove it.”
“Don’t go acting like I haven’t seen you in years,” Ash said with another good-natured laugh. “Y’all were at my graduation, just weeks ago.”
“But this is different,” Ridge swallowed the unexpected emotion. “You’re home. And that means something.”
It meant something to Ash too.
So did having the entire West clan fly to Michigan State University to celebrate his degree in livestock management. The Wyoming Wests sure did make their presence known, hooting and hollering louder than any other group in the stands when he walked across the stage—and Ash didn’t mind in the least. On the contrary. He moved his tassel to the other side of his mortarboard, and lifted his diploma in the air with pure joy and triumph.
And maybe a tear or two.
Ash wasn’t raised a West, but now, thanks to MSU, was qualified to join the family business with a solid foundation. His honors-level diploma implied that he would be an asset to the ranch. No longer the know-nothing kid who had to fall off a horse a time or two just to learn the ropes, he was proud of his achievements, and glad he changed his mind four years earlier about business school.
“Congratulations on being accepted to Columbia University,” the letter read. Boy, how the family had celebrated when that piece of mail arrived! But as summer went on, Ash felt a stronger tug to join his dad and brothers at West Ranch.
Maybe he wanted to belong, or pay his family back for taking him in as a lonely teenager—one who was going down the wrong path. Or maybe he just wanted to work alongside the Wests. Ridge and Gunnar, and Rowdy and Gray, were some of the finest men he’d ever known. Colton and Pike, though no longer working on the ranch, lived just minutes away and were always available to listen and give advice to Ash.
However it happened, West Ranch had gotten under Ash’s skin.
He got chills every time he drove through the tall iron archway emblazoned with a massive WR, which stood for his name—the name that chose him. A name he wanted to pass along to his own sons and daughters someday. Unlike him, they would inherit the name at birth, along with full rights and privileges. Ash wanted to earn it and care for it; nurture it, and show his appreciation to the ranch and the name.
If he didn’t love these things, how could he expect his children to?
Funny, thinking about children at such a young age. It was not something his friends and roommates had on their mind—far from it. They were thinking about girls, and cars, and signing bonuses for their entry-level jobs. But when a boy is abandoned by his parents, fixing things for the next generation is top of mind.
At least, for Ash it was.
“You’re an old soul,” one girl at MSU told him, and Ash didn’t think it was a compliment. He’d been trying to explain his vision for life on the ranch. A heavy conversation for a sorority party when the others were talking about their lake homes and favorite ski hills. But Ash didn’t care. Having clear goals and a vision kept him from making foolish choices that would derail his plans, or dating girls who weren’t open to living in Wyoming.
“You watch those Michigan girls, now,” Ridge told him as he packed for his freshman year. “They’re tempting sirens, each and every one; tall and willowy, with blonde hair that turns to spun gold on the beach.”
Ridge was only half joking as he said this—his first wife Randi Lynn, now deceased, hailed from northern Michigan. Her alma mater was the law school at Michigan State.
“I’ll watch out,” Ash told his dad.
“You do that,” Ridge said, “because there aren’t many women willing to leave those Great Lakes for plains and hills. Even with this beautiful gorge out our back window, the isolation here can be a tough sell.”
That was only the beginning of the advice that came his way. Everyone pulled him aside and chimed in.
“Work hard and remember,” Gunnar said, “once you graduate, the ranch work will be harder than you can imagine. But I’ll be proud to have another West at the helm.”
That one got him, for sure. Thankfully, Colton didn’t reduce him to a puddle of tears. “Don’t be the last one to leave a party,” the middle brother advised. “Always leave alone. Always.”
“Yes sir,” Ash promised, and kept it.
“Take an art appreciation class, just for kicks,” Pike encouraged.
“Enjoy the autumns,” Kat suggested. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but Michigan has Wyoming beat when it comes to fall colors… and it doesn’t snow there in October.”
She sighed wistfully, making Ash hopeful that she’d come and visit him a time or two.
“I hear the gas stations in Michigan sell sushi,” Liu warned him. “Stay away from that. Some of the better grocery stores, now that sushi would be okay. Oh, and ignore Colton’s advice. You don’t have time for parties. As my parents told me, ‘We are not sending you to school to party—good grades,that’s your party’.”
Liu’s no-nonsense ways always made him laugh. She also made him a box of spring rolls to eat on the way to the airport. He wouldn’t take a car his freshman year; he’d live in the dorms and stay close to the campus. Making Paislee’s advice challenging.
“Take a day trip to the Detroit Institute of Arts one Saturday, when the weather is good,” she said softly. “Take in the Diego Rivera murals, titled Detroit Industry. I guarantee, they will move you, and give you a great appreciation for the concept of work.”
Her words were so touching as she spoke to him like an adult—like someone he’d yet to become, but would very much like to be someday. Holding her baby boy, Ford, in her arms, Paislee kissed him on the cheek and added, “Don’t forget to come home to us, Uncle Ash.”