Show me the ropes
637 Words
Dear Diary,
Day 1 at the ranch! Move-in day was a whirlwind, as expected. The kids were bouncing off the walls, chasing each other around the cottage like it was the set of some chaotic reality TV show. I was just trying to find my coffee mugs and remember where I packed my phone charger.
Laura was my savior today. After I managed to corral the kids into some semblance of calm, she whisked me off to the main house to “show me the ropes” in the office. Now, when she said “ropes,” I thought she meant spreadsheets and schedules. But no, Diary. She literally meant ropes. As in, “This is how you coil a lasso,” and, “Please don’t get tangled up in this or trip anyone.” I nodded like I totally understood, but let’s be real—if someone handed me a lasso right now, I’d probably just tie myself to the nearest fence post.
The office, by the way, is a dream. Big windows, lots of natural light, and a faint smell of leather and coffee. I’ve never worked somewhere where I half-expected someone to ride up to the front door on horseback. Spoiler: someone did.
By the end of the day, I was wiped. The kids passed out almost instantly, and I didn’t even unpack the rest of my boxes. I just fell into bed with a sigh of relief, thinking, I’m actually here. I live on a ranch now.
Day 2:
I woke up in my new room to birds chirping outside my window. I mean, actual chirping. Not the sound of someone mowing their lawn or a garbage truck rumbling by. I felt like I was in one of those cheesy commercials for peaceful living, except instead of a perfectly made bed, I was surrounded by half-unpacked suitcases and a stray sock hanging off my nightstand.
After I got dressed (in my ranch-casual-but-still-cute outfit), I made my way to the kitchen for my first cup of coffee. I decided to drink it outside, on the edge of the garden, because why not? The early morning air was crisp, and the view? Breathtaking. Rolling hills, soft morning light, and the faint sounds of the ranch waking up for the day.
That’s when I saw Cole. Of course. Because why wouldn’t he be up early, working a horse in the ring like some kind of cowboy supermodel?
Diary, let me just paint the picture for you: he was wearing his hat low over his eyes, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal forearms that should come with a warning label, and he moved with this calm, practiced confidence that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. The horse he was working was beautiful, all power and grace, and the two of them together? It was like watching a scene from a movie.
I sipped my coffee and tried to look casual, like I totally wasn’t staring. But then he glanced my way. And not just a quick glance—oh no. It was a full-on, saw-you-standing-there-with-your-coffee-like-a-total-dork glance. He tipped his hat, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. Again.
“Morning,” he called out, his voice carrying across the garden.
I waved, half wondering if I could just hide behind the flower bed and avoid any further interaction. But no, he had that grin again. You know the one. The I-know-exactly-what-I’m-doing-to-you grin.
I quickly mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “Good morning!” before escaping back into the house.
So yeah, Day 2 is off to a solid start. Moving in? Check. Learning the ropes? Sort of. Developing a ridiculous crush on the co-owner of the ranch? Definitely.
Yours,
The Girl Who Should Probably Stop Staring at Cole
- Writer
