His Marriage to Remember

Four



As Sam put his hand to the small of Bria’s back to guide her to a table in the back of the Broken Spoke Roadhouse, he noticed several cowboys turn to give her an appreciative glance. There was no doubt she was the best-looking woman in the entire joint and probably better looking than most of the men had ever been privileged to see.

Deep in the heart of ranch country, the Broken Spoke was a typical Western watering hole with chipped Formica tables, chrome chairs with cracked vinyl upholstery and country music blaring on the jukebox. The lighting was a little too dim and the music was a bit too loud, but it was clean, and catering to the ranchers and their hired hands who called the area home, the bar and grill served the best steaks in three counties. Not even the steaks he had eaten in five-star restaurants could compare. It was usually packed with the men outnumbering women four to one. Tonight was no different.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Sam said, frowning as he scanned the room.

Bria gave him a questioning look. “But I thought you liked the food here.”

“I do. But I forgot that half the joint’s clientele are looking to get lucky.”

“What about the other half?” she asked, sitting in the chair he held for her.

“They’re either too old or too backward to do anything but leer.”

He glared at a fresh-faced, red-haired cowboy who stared a little longer than Sam thought was polite. Apparently seeing the wisdom in turning his gaze elsewhere, the kid went back to giving his full attention to the plate of food in front of him.

“I see they’ve added a small dance floor since we were here the last time,” Bria said, pointing to the opposite side of the room close to the jukebox.

“We’ll have to dance a slow one or two before we leave,” Sam said, smiling. If there was anything Bria loved to do more than dance, he didn’t know of it.

“That might not be a good idea.” She looked worried. “You’ve had a big day already and I don’t want you to overdo it.”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “I haven’t had a dizzy spell in a while and you haven’t let me do anything but lie around since coming home from the hospital.”

“That was only yesterday,” she said, her expression disapproving.

“I’m not used to doing nothing, Bria.”

Why couldn’t she understand his need to stay busy and be productive? As Hank always told him and his brothers, having nothing to do was the fastest way to get into a whole heap of trouble. Since cleaning up his act at the age of fifteen, he had made sure to stay busy in more productive ways and avoided being idle for too long.

Bria gazed at him a moment before shaking her head. “Please, Sam, can we discuss all this later? I really don’t want to spoil the evening by arguing with you right now.”

Covering her hand with his, he smiled. “That sounds good to me, sweetheart. But take my word for it, one or two slow dances with you after we eat is not going to hurt me.”

As he lightly stroked her fingers with his thumb, he realized something wasn’t right. Moving his hand to glance down at hers resting on the table, he immediately noticed that her wedding and engagement rings were missing. The only time he knew of her taking them off was to shower or the few odd times when she did dishes instead of using the dishwasher. Where were they?

“Why aren’t you wearing your rings?” he asked, tracing the third finger on her left hand.

He watched her nibble on her lower lip as if trying to decide what to say. “I…left them at the house.”

“Why?”

“I forgot…to put them back on,” she answered, not quite meeting his curious gaze.

Her hesitant tone made him wonder if she thought he might be angry that she wasn’t wearing them. But that didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t the controlling type and had never indicated that he wanted her to wear them unless she wanted to. Hell, he rarely wore his wedding band. Working around livestock all the time, there was too big of a chance to get a ring caught on something and break a finger, or worse, lose one.

“It’s all right, Bria. It’s really no big deal.” He smiled. “We’re both just as married whether we have on our wedding rings or not.”

Nodding, she picked up one of the paper menus. “I don’t suppose I have to ask what you’re having.”

“Nope.” Leaning back in the chair, he grinned. “I’ll be having my usual sixteen-ounce porterhouse with a side of coleslaw, baked beans and fries.”

“How imaginative of you,” she said, laughing.

“Hey, I’m nothing if not predictable.” Her light laughter sounded like music to his ears. She hadn’t done a lot of that in the past couple of days and he had missed the delightful sound.

Forty-five minutes later, as they finished the slices of pecan pie he had ordered for desert, someone fed coins into the jukebox and selected a popular country love song. “Would you like to dance, sweetheart?” Sam asked when he noticed Bria watching the two couples on the dance floor slowly swaying in time to the music.

She glanced from him to the dance floor then back. “Only if you promise to tell me if you start feeling light-headed or get tired.”

Rising to his feet, he held out his hand. “I give you my word, you’ll be the first to know if that happens.”

When she smiled and placed her soft palm against his, Sam’s heart stalled. His wife was without a shadow of a doubt the sexiest, most desirable woman he had ever had the pleasure to know and he counted himself one of the luckiest son of a guns on the face of the earth that she was his.

As he led her out onto the floor, he noticed several of the cowboys in the joint stopped what they were doing to watch. He couldn’t blame them. Bria looked absolutely amazing. Her designer jeans were made to look as if they had been well-worn and had a couple of stylish holes in the thighs, exposing an enticing glimpse of her smooth skin, and the formfitting black tank top with a design made of the finest Austrian crystals on the front hugged her breasts and the feminine indention of her waist like a lover’s caress.

His lower belly tightened, but when he wrapped his arms around her and she lifted hers to encircle his shoulders, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find himself hard as hell in less time than it took to draw his next breath. Gazing into her luminous emerald eyes, he pulled her closer and knew the moment she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressed to her soft stomach.

“Sam, maybe we should sit down,” she said, starting to pull away from him. “You might become dizzy.”

He held her snug against him. “Sweetheart, I’m fine. That’s just a myth.”

She looked confused. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled as he whispered close to her ear. “There really is enough blood in a man’s body to support both—”

“I get it,” she interrupted, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. “I didn’t mean that.”

“What did you mean?” he asked, kissing the tip of her nose.

“I thought you might not want everyone to know that you’re…um, feeling amorous,” she whispered.

He looked around. “The lighting in here is so bad, I doubt that will be a problem.” Tilting his hat back, he grinned as he rested his forehead against hers. “But it doesn’t matter. The last I heard, it’s perfectly acceptable for a man to become aroused when he’s holding his wife. Especially when she’s the hottest woman in the whole damn state.”

“I’m a little tired,” she said, suddenly pushing away from him. “I think it would be best if we leave.”

“All right.” Confused by the urgency he heard in her voice, Sam followed her back to their table, tossed some money on the top of it for their meal, along with a generous tip, then taking her hand in his, led her to the exit. Once they were standing in the parking lot, he held out his hand for the keys to the SUV. “You’re tired. I’ll drive home.”

“We’ve been over this before, Sam,” she said, sounding as if her patience was wearing thin. “Get used to it. You’re not driving until the doctor releases you to do so. Now, get in the truck or I swear I’ll leave you standing here in this parking lot.”

Something was definitely going on with her, but Sam decided not to push her to tell him what it was and instead got into the passenger side of the SUV. Bria looked as if she could either tear his head off or burst into tears and he didn’t have a clue why.

But one thing was certain. He was for damn sure going to find out when they got back to the ranch.

* * *

As Bria drove the twenty miles back to Sugar Creek Ranch, neither she nor Sam had a lot to say. She knew she had acted irrationally, but her nerves were getting the better of her. For the past twenty-four hours she had been under a tremendous amount of stress, pretending that nothing was wrong, that they were still happily married. Unfortunately, Sam didn’t remember that wasn’t the case and seemed to be launching a sensual assault that was threatening to drive her to the brink of insanity.

Then there was the matter of hiding the truth about their relationship without lying to him. When he had asked her about her wedding and engagement rings, she had told him the truth. Three months ago when she moved out of the house, she had taken them off and left them in a small black velvet box on top of the dresser. She had forgotten to find them and put them back on. But she’d had so much on her mind, trying to make sure Sam didn’t overdo things, pretending that everything was all right between them when it wasn’t, that it was nothing short of a miracle she could remember her own name, let alone her rings.

When she drove up to the side of the ranch house and parked the SUV, she was surprised when he didn’t immediately open the door to get out. “Is something wrong, Sam?” she asked, hoping the vertigo hadn’t returned.

“You tell me, Bria,” he answered, turning to look at her. His eyes held hers and until that moment, she hadn’t really understood what it meant to feel as if someone’s piercing gaze went all the way to her soul. She did now.

She caught her breath. Had he remembered something? Maybe a fragment about their marriage being in trouble?

“I don’t know what you mean, Sam.”

“There used to be a time when you loved for me to let you feel how much I want you. Loved for me to show you what you did to me and how much you tied me in knots.” He shook his head. “Now you get jumpy as hell if I get within ten feet of you, and try to put as much distance between us as you possibly can.”

She should have known that he would start questioning why she kept sidestepping his advances. “Sam, I—”

“Is there someone else?” he interrupted, his tone holding a hard edge that she had never heard before. “If there is, I can tell you right now the son of a bitch is in for the fight of his miserable life.”

“No, Sam, there’s never been anyone but you,” she said honestly. “You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to be with.”

He must have heard the truth in her words, because his tone softened. “Then what’s the problem, sweetheart? You know you can tell me anything.”

Bria closed her eyes for a moment as she fought the urge to throw herself into his arms, to have him hold her and her hold him until all their problems melted away. But that was something she simply couldn’t allow herself to do. It had never worked before and she knew it wouldn’t work now. His accident hadn’t been the solution to what was wrong in their relationship, it had only added another complication.

“I guess I’m just letting my nerves get the better of me,” she finally managed to say.

She wasn’t lying. Her nerves had been stretched to the breaking point ever since she watched the bull run him down, and they hadn’t gotten any better since coming back to the ranch. Having to watch every single thing she said to him was like walking a tightrope with no safety net.

“I’m sorry you’ve had so much to deal with lately.” Leaning across the console, he gave her a kiss so tender it brought tears to her eyes. “When we go upstairs to bed, I’m going to hold you until all that worry melts away and you feel secure again.”

“I don’t think…that would be a good idea,” she said haltingly.

“I do.” He sounded so sure, it was hard for her not to believe that it was all that simple.

The feel of his gentle kiss and his heartfelt pledge to make her feel safe caused her chest to tighten. Why hadn’t he been there to tell her something like this when she had lost their baby? She had needed his strength and comfort then more than she ever needed anything in her life and he had been somewhere out on the West Coast, playing nursemaid to a herd of rodeo livestock.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t confront him about it now. She couldn’t tell him how desolate she had felt without him with her or how emotionally hurt she had been when he did come home and wouldn’t talk to her about their loss. Besides, they had already had that conversation and like everything else that had taken place the past six months, he didn’t remember it.

But what excuse was she going to use to keep from going to bed with him? Tonight he wasn’t as exhausted as he had been the evening before. There was no way he would turn in for the night without her with him. What could she possibly say to explain sleeping in the bedroom down the hall?

As she tried to think of something—anything—to keep from telling him about their pending divorce, Sam got out and came around to open the driver’s door to help her from the SUV. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go upstairs so that I can hold you and make you forget about all the things that are bothering you.”

Thirty minutes later as she finished getting ready for bed, Bria spent as much time as she could changing into her nightshirt and brushing her teeth. Once she opened the bathroom door, Sam would be waiting to take her into his arms and unknowingly add to her tension, rather than help alleviate it.

“Is everything all right in there?” Sam asked from the other side of the door.

She knew she couldn’t stall any longer. She would just have to wait until he went to sleep, then try to get out of bed without waking him and go down the hall to the guest bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. “I was brushing my—” She stopped short at the sight of Sam standing in front of her wearing nothing but a big smile. “Aren’t you going to wear something to sleep in?”

His smile turned to a grin. “You know I’m not a big fan of wearing anything to bed.”

“You wore your underwear last night,” she said, knowing he had been too tired to take them off.

Maybe that was the key to her dilemma. Maybe if Sam was so exhausted each night that he fell asleep as soon as he got into bed he wouldn’t question her sleeping in a separate room…

She immediately abandoned that idea. There was only one way she knew that would exhaust a man with seemingly boundless energy, and making love with him was definitely not an option.

“You look like you’re ready to drop in your tracks.” His deep baritone sent a shiver of excitement straight up her spine.

More like melt into a puddle at his feet, she thought as she stared at his magnificent physique. Well over six feet tall, Sam had the body of an athlete—lean, with well-defined muscles and not an ounce of spare flesh. When her gaze drifted lower, it took everything in her not to moan. Even relaxed, he was impressive, and she had missed being with him so very much.

“Come here,” he said, reaching for her.

The moment he pulled her to his broad, bare chest, a delicious tingling sensation raced straight up Bria’s spine and sent heat flowing through her veins. She had always loved Sam’s body, loved the contrast between them and the feel of her smoother skin pressed to his hair-roughened flesh. And it appeared that fascination hadn’t changed.

If anything, the awareness of the differences in their bodies was more acute than ever. Feeling the ridges of bulging muscle made hard by years of ranch work pressed to her from shoulders to knees caused her breath to come out on a soft sigh and a delightful tightening in the most feminine part of her. The sensations were a swift reminder of just how long it had been since Sam had held her, loved her.

“You’re shivering,” he said, lightly skimming his palms from her shoulders down her arms to catch her hands in his. “I didn’t realize how much tension and stress the accident caused you, sweetheart.”

At that moment, it wasn’t his being pummeled by the bull that was causing her to tremble. It was his raw masculinity and the temptation he posed that had put her on sensory overload.

“I may be…coming down with a cold,” she said, hoping her excuse didn’t sound as lame to him as it did to her. “Maybe I should sleep in one of the guest rooms. If I do have something contagious, I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to get whatever it is.”

He shook his head and led her over to the bed. “If you’re getting sick, that’s all the more reason for you to be in bed with me so that I can take care of you.”

His statement was like waving a red flag in front of a bull and helped shatter the sensual spell he had been casting over her. “Sam, that doesn’t make sense.” She pulled away from him. “Why is it perfectly acceptable for you to take care of me when I’m not feeling well, but it’s unheard of for me to help you?”

“Because I’m your husband,” he said, frowning. “The day I married you, I promised to take care of you.”

“And wives are supposed to do the same thing for their husbands,” she retorted. She could tell by the stubborn set of his lean jaw that, as usual, he wasn’t getting what she was trying to tell him. “I repeated the same wedding vows you did, Sam.”

“Bria, sweetheart, you’re getting too upset and not making a lot of sense.”

“I pledged to be with you in sickness as well as in health,” she went on. She pointed to his head and the now-fading bruise along his cheek. “You having post-concussion syndrome certainly qualifies as the ‘in sickness’ part of those vows. But from the moment you came home from the hospital you’ve insisted that there’s nothing wrong and won’t let me do things to help you. How am I supposed to keep my promise if you won’t let me?”

“Does this have something to do with your monthly—”

“Oh, good grief! This has nothing at all to do with my cycle,” she said, cutting him off. “Why do men think that every time a woman disagrees with him or becomes upset, she has to be experiencing PMS or some other hormonal imbalance?”

He looked mystified by her outburst. “Are you sure? You do get a little cranky sometimes.”

She wanted to find something and smack him with it. “If you’ll remember, we’ve had this argument before and you’re not listening any more now than you were when I—” she stopped herself just in time “—then.” She had started to say before she left him, but he didn’t remember any of that, and telling him now wasn’t going to accomplish anything and might just make things more difficult in the long run.

“Bria, you know I can’t do that,” he said, his frustration causing lines to etch his forehead. “I don’t remember anything since the first part of the year. If there’s something I need to know or that you want to tell me, I’m listening.”

A sudden feeling of utter defeat settled over her. There was so much she wanted to tell him about needing him to rely on her as much as she did him, about how she wanted to feel as if she was an equal partner in their marriage. She wanted to ask him why he had waited to come home after she lost their child, and when he did, why he’d acted as if the pregnancy had never existed. But he couldn’t remember her pregnancy, much less the last time she had confronted him with all her questions, so there was really no point in repeating herself.

“Go to bed, Sam,” she said tiredly. It really wasn’t his fault he couldn’t recall anything, but it didn’t make it any less upsetting for her. “Maybe you’ll understand once you’ve regained your memory.”

When she turned and started toward the door, she might have escaped had he not put his hand on her arm. “Stay in here with me, Bria. It’s where you belong.”

His touch and the sincerity in his voice were her undoing. She didn’t have the energy or the will left to protest.

“We can’t—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I’m just going to hold you.”

Lying down on what was once her side of the bed, she held her breath when Sam stretched out beside her and gathered her to him. The feel of his strong arms holding her so securely against him, the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm where it rested on his chest and his clean masculine scent caused her to blink back tears. She was back in his arms for the first time in months and it felt as if she had come home. The only problem was, as soon as he regained his memory and their divorce became final, she would no longer have the right to be there.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, Sam wasn’t overly surprised to find that Bria was already up and had most likely gone downstairs to make breakfast. Hopefully, she would be more rested and in a better mood than last night.

Staring at the ceiling, he thought about what she had said just before they had gone to bed. What made her think he didn’t need her?

Just because he insisted on doing things for himself didn’t mean she wasn’t a vital part of his life. Why couldn’t she see that he worked hard and had bent over backward to make things easier for her? That it was important to him that he provide her with a nice house to live in and nice things to wear? Or that by gritting his teeth and not allowing her to see his weaknesses, he was actually putting her needs before his own and showing her how much he cherished her? Didn’t she realize how amazing he thought she was? How honored he was to be her husband?

Unlike what his father had done for his mother, Sam intended to see that Bria wasn’t saddled with a man who was too lazy to do anything for himself. Of course, she didn’t know anything about his life before he and Nate were put into foster care, didn’t have a clue what had sent them to the Last Chance Ranch or how it drove him to be a better man now. And that was just the way Sam wanted it to stay. The few times she asked him about his childhood, he had told her that she didn’t want to know and found a way to divert her attention.

He wasn’t proud of his past, didn’t want to talk about it and didn’t want Bria to think less of him for where he came from and the mistakes he had made in his youth. Hank Calvert had assured his foster sons that no one had to know about what they had done to land themselves in his care. It was how they acted and what they did moving forward that counted.

A sudden dull ache seemed to wrap around his skull and, groaning, Sam closed his eyes against the pain squeezing his brain.

“Sam, I’ve tried to tell you what’s wrong with our marriage, what’s wrong with us,” Bria said tearfully as she put stacks of her clothes into a suitcase. “But you won’t listen and I can’t live like this anymore.” She stopped packing to turn and face him. “Husbands and wives are supposed to communicate and tell each other what’s wrong, then work out a solution together. But your idea of ‘fixing things’ is to ignore whatever problems we have and hope they’ll miraculously go away. Maybe I could understand you better if I knew why you’re so self-contained, but I don’t know anything about your life before you went to live with Hank Calvert. Husbands usually share something like that with their wives, but you won’t even give me that much. It’s almost as if you didn’t exist before you went to live at the Last Chance Ranch.”

As the pressure in his head eased, Sam’s heart thumped against his ribs like a war drum. Opening his eyes, he threw back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. Had Bria actually left him? She was here now. But what the hell had happened and how had they resolved the situation?

Rubbing his temples, he desperately tried to remember what had taken place and where Bria had been going. But as had been the case each time he recovered a scrap of his memory, the events surrounding it were elusive and just out of reach.

He stood up and headed for the shower. Lying in bed was not going to get him the answers he needed. And whether he liked what he learned or not, he had to know.

After a quick shower, Sam got dressed and started downstairs. He had no idea what he was going to do in order to figure things out, but questioning Bria wasn’t on the table. For one thing, he didn’t remember enough about what took place to know how to approach the matter. And for another, not revealing the fact that his memory was returning might buy him the time he needed to know how to deal with the situation when it did come back.

He was halfway to the bottom step when he stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned his head toward the wall where the family pictures hung. Bria had told him that she had taken them down to put them elsewhere. But if she had hung them up in another room, he hadn’t found them.

As he continued to the kitchen, he thought about her missing wedding and engagement rings and her reaction when he had asked about them. She had mentioned forgetting to put them on, but she hadn’t been able to look him in the eye and quickly changed the subject.

A knot began to form in his gut and by the time he sat down at the big round oak table in the kitchen, his appetite was nonexistent. He needed to check out the house to see what else was missing. Unless he was mistaken, Bria didn’t live at Sugar Creek Ranch anymore. Was she only there to see him through the recovery from his accident?

“Good morning, Sam,” Bria said, turning from the stove to face him. “I’ve got bacon and hash browns ready. Would you like pancakes or eggs for breakfast?”

“Whatever is easiest,” he said, distracted by his disturbing thoughts. How was he going to search the house to see what else had changed or was missing without her realizing what he was up to?

“One is about as easy as the other,” she said, smiling.

“A couple of fried eggs would be fine.” He waited until she had turned back to the stove to tend to the eggs before asking, “What do you have planned for the day?”

“I thought if you’re feeling up to it, we could drive up to Stephenville to pick up what I’ll need for Jaron’s birthday dinner.” She placed the eggs, bacon and hash browns on a plate, then walked over to the table to set it in front of him. “But if you’d rather just take it easy, Mariah and your brothers will be here tomorrow. She and I can go shopping for what I need while you visit with the guys.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I was thinking about going over the ranch books to see if I can figure out what’s been going on the past several months,” he said, looking down at the food on his plate. With his appetite gone, the food looked about as appealing as a piece of wagon harness.

“You hate doing paperwork,” she said, frowning as she sank into one of the straight-backed chairs.

“Who knows? It might help me remember something.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But don’t think you have to wait to go shopping on my account. I’ll be in the office most of the day going over the books.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” she said, shaking her head. “Mariah and I can go tomorrow.”

“I won’t be alone.” He forced a smile he wasn’t feeling. “T.J. called yesterday to tell me he’s driving up a day early and should be here by midmorning.”

Bria frowned. “I don’t remember anyone calling yesterday.”

“You were in the shower getting ready to go to the Broken Spoke.” He picked up his fork to push the hash browns around his plate. “I guess I just forgot to tell you.”

“How can he possibly be here by midmorning?” she asked, looking doubtful. “It’s an eight-hour drive from Tranquility to get here.”

“He’s just north of Round Rock buying a new quarter horse stallion he wants to improve his herd.” He reached over to cover her hand resting on the table with his and noticed her rings were still missing. It made him more determined than ever to see what else had changed around the house. “You go ahead and make plans to get your shopping out of the way today. That will give you and Mariah more time to catch up when she gets here.”

“Actually, that does sound like a good plan,” she finally said, nodding. “It would be nice to get some of the cooking done tomorrow instead of having it all to do on Sunday.”

“And you don’t have to wait until T.J. gets here,” he added. “I give you my word that I won’t be doing anything more strenuous than pushing a pencil and using a calculator. And if I do get tired, I’ll take a nap.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think leaving you alone just yet would be wise. I’ll wait until T.J. gets here before I leave.”

“I promise I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he assured her, then patted the device clipped to his belt. “And if I need something, I always have my cell phone.”

“No. If something happens before T.J. gets here, I’d never forgive myself,” she said, shaking her head.

* * *

An hour later, as he and T.J. watched Bria’s SUV drive down the ranch road leading to the main highway, Sam got up from the porch swing. “I’m going inside for a can of soda. You want a beer?”

“Sure,” T.J. said. “You’re not having one?”

“Nope.” Sam grinned. “If Bria smells it on my breath when she gets home, you and I will both be in big trouble.”

“Aw, hell, no,” T.J. said, laughing. “The last thing I need is Bria on the warpath with me. I’ve had enough tongue-lashing lately from an irate woman. I don’t need another one.”

“Still battling with your neighbor?” Sam asked, laughing at T.J.’s exasperated expression.

“Don’t get me started,” his brother said, groaning. “The less I have to think about that woman, the better.”

“I’ll be back out in a minute with your beer,” Sam said, grinning.

As he entered the house, he had a few things to check to see if they were missing before he got their drinks and rejoined T.J. on the porch. If they were missing, then he would know for certain that Bria was there only because of his injury and the advice from the doctor about letting him recover his memory on his own without putting him under any kind of stress.

Starting in the dining room, he walked straight to the sideboard and opened the cabinet beneath one of the drawers. His heart slammed against his ribs and the painful knot that formed in his gut damn near knocked him to his knees as the ugly truth began to sink in. He didn’t need to take his search any farther. The absence of her grandmother’s antique fruit bowl and the silver platter that had been in her family for three generations were all the confirmation he needed.

He struggled to draw his next breath. His fears had been confirmed. Bria no longer lived at Sugar Creek Ranch.