Taming His Stallion [BWWM]

18_Blissful Adventure

Danny

The calm, synonymous with Sunday evenings, settled on the ranch, ushering in a space of well-deserved leisure, luxury and laughter, concluding yet another day of intense work.

Said calm mingled with the air, resilient on the wind, helping to resolve or defer our tensions as the day neared its climax.

If our neighbours lived within a relative distance, they'd probably linger on the soft music emitting the area and surmise that some elite event was underway at the Andrews ranch when, in fact, it was merely a small gathering hosted by my father in honour of my mother.

A cool breeze swept across the land in gentle waves, whirring around, lightly caressing the open deck, lending ultimately to the ambient nature of the place where I held more of my fondest memories of late.

Mom and Dad, Bell, Will and A.J. as well as a few of our ranchhands gathered at the dining table, all in good spirits.

As was customary of late, Paege accompanied me and dared not wander too far from my side as she wouldn't allow me nor I, her.

Ever since we were back on good terms, we could barely manage an hour without checking in to see how the other fared the extensive work that met us come daybreak. So even if we had to shoot a call or text, we did just that to ensure that the other was ok.

What more can I say? That close call, a few weeks ago, had really shaken me up. The thought that she had almost slipped from my grasp was far too much to bear.

And now I yearned for more of her smiles which tugged on my heartstrings and her laughter that resonated so much with my being that the woman was not far from my thoughts at any given moment.

She held my attention yet again, at home amongst my family, laughing boisterously at something foolish Willy said along with the rest of the group, much to his credit.

A warm moment amidst the welcomed chill that eclipsed the day of near blistering heat that went ahead.

The setting sun permitted magnificent rays. An alluring backdrop comprising indigo, magenta, cyan and orange as we spoiled in the fruits of my father's labour.

My mother was by no means a novice in the kitchen, but my father's effort was a gesture of love and a token of appreciation, accumulating after so many years of mom taking care of all of us.

My father's cooking was by no means on my mother's level, but neither mom nor Bell, nor the men, nor I could ever refuse for that matter. It was that good.

Mom often cooked for us. Every now and then, the men who overnighted at the ranch and weren't otherwise engaged, joined us when my parents weren't away on business. So when the time came, dad steered her away from the kitchen to repay her warmth, often slaving away to treat her to her favourites dishes and pay tribute.

On this particular occasion, he had outdone himself, whipping up Creamy Fettucine Carbonara, Beef Quesadillas, Crumbed Cutlets, Grilled Avocado with Veggie Ceviche, Greek Quinoa Salad and No Baked Oreo Cheesecake for dessert.

His tribute extended to our mother but we revelled in the experience and their immense love, not to mention the fact that we got to partake in the festivities.

Bell and I would also combine our efforts as we adopted the tradition, extending our tribute to both our parents. Bell did meal prep as she was not necessarily gifted in the way of the cooking while I articulated my culinary prowess behind the stove.

It was nothing too elaborate but Bell and I found that we appreciated the exposure no less. These moments were all-around all-encompassing and truly heartwarming in the way that guided us to our true North by grounding and reminding us what was most important in life.