Libby gave Leo a dark look. “You know, I am getting tired of everyone thinking that I am the one who came up with the idea to turn Homecoming Ranch into a destination resort, because I am not that person. My father and your father had that idea, Leo. I’m just trying to keep it together. It’s not like I’ve ever done this before. I’m doing the best I know how to do and learning as I go.”
“Point well taken,” he cheerfully agreed. “Hey, did you see that season of The Bachelor where the dude was down to the last two girls, and he picked the super cute girl, but then, at the ‘After the Final Rose’ ceremony, he said he made a mistake and went with the not-so-cute one?”
Libby blinked. “What?” she asked, and shook her head. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“Are you kidding? I am constantly amazed at the lack of intuition around me!” he called up to a pinkening sky. “Okay, check it out, Libby-rachi, the dude had two perfectly acceptable girls. I mean all girls are acceptable, but you know, some more than others, right? He liked them both, but he thought he was supposed to go with the pretty, shiny one, but then, once he’d hung out with her a couple of weeks, he realized he’d chosen the wrong chick, so he said, oops, and he retraced his steps and he chose the right chick. And they have a baby now.”
“That makes absolutely no sense, Leo,” she said. “And it has nothing to do with the ranch.”
“It has everything to do with the ranch. Just think about it. In the meantime, watch a pro at work,” he said, and suddenly backed up, then twisted around so quickly that he bumped into the table and glasses knocked together, startling everyone. Libby was certain he’d done it on purpose.
“Oh hey, sorry. But now that I have your attention,” Leo said, as all eyes turned toward him, “I have an announcement to make.”
“Leo—”
“Dad, just let me get this out before you present the opposing viewpoint, okay?”
“Are you really going to do this here, before the game?” Mr. Kendrick demanded gruffly from the other end of the table.
“I can’t think of a better time, Pops. By the way, for those of you not following, Dad is unhappy because he takes great pride in old bread delivery trucks. But then again, he’s retired. What else is he going to do but work on old bread delivery trucks?”
Libby could hear Mr. Kendrick muttering under his breath, and it didn’t sound very polite.
“Okay, so here’s the deal. I have tickets to the Broncos-Patriots game on Christmas Eve, and I need a way to get there.”
Several of the guests looked a few feet away, where Leo’s van was parked.
“No, no, don’t look at that!” he said quickly. “I know it looks like a van, but trust me, it’s a bread delivery truck, and there’s a bunch of issues with it. I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s like, so not going to make a trip all the way to Denver. And we Kendricks don’t have the money to buy a new van, so I asked the Methodists if they could help us out.”
“Oh,” Sherry Stancliff said, sitting up a little, as if the Methodists somehow legitimized whatever it was Leo was about to say.
“And the Methodists were like, ‘Oh, we don’t know if we can raise money to buy you a van to take you to a football game,’ like a football game is the mouth of hell or something, so I had to improvise a little and remind them that the van is also going to get me to really important doctor appointments. Right, Dr. Levitt?”
Dr. Levitt looked startled. He glanced around uncertainly. “Well, you need to go to your doctor appointments, yes.”
“There, you see? So me and the Methodists, we came up with the great idea to form a committee to raise funds for my new van.”
“Oh, what a great idea!” said Sherry. “Count me in.”
“Me too!” Libby said enthusiastically. That sounded like something right up her alley, and she would love something other than Ryan, or the ranch, or deputies with bad attitudes, to think about.
Leo acted as if he hadn’t heard her, which was impossible, because she was sitting right next to him. He launched into an explanation of what sort of van he wanted.
Predictably, he wanted something that sounded a bit over the top. Apparently Luke thought so, too, because he began to slowly reel in his brother, proclaiming the van did not need leather bucket seats or a DVD player, and it damn sure didn’t need flame details on the side. By the time he’d managed to get Leo down to a van that sounded reasonable, it was time for the pre-game show.
“Be thinking of fundraisers, people!” Leo called to everyone as they stood up from the table.
Luke instructed them to take their plastic lawn chairs and move to the deck, where he and his dad had set up the big flat screen.
As Libby stood from the table, she said, “I really would love to help, Leo. I’m really good at that sort of thing.”
Leo wheeled about in his chair so that he was facing her. He looked up at her with eyes that were just like Luke’s—warm and blue and shining. “I know you are, Libby-rachi. You’re the best. Hey, you’re staying for the game, right?”
“A little while,” she said. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”