At My Daughter’s Colorado Ranch Wedding, She Slipp…

That mattered more to me than anything. Then, as they came back in, Tyler paused at the very same kitchen window, coffee mug in hand. Outside, the sky had gone black velvet, the only visible line the pale ribbon of the gravel driveway against the darker field.

“This land just keeps going,” he said, almost to himself. Then, louder: “How far does your property go, Robert?”

I told him. He whistled low.

“Man,” he said with a smile. “That’s something else.”

I thought nothing of it. Claire and Tyler’s relationship moved quickly after that.

Too quickly, if you asked the cautious, widowed father who’d learned to see structural failure before it happened. But I kept my reservations to myself. He started visiting the ranch regularly, sometimes with Claire, sometimes alone “to help out with projects.” We fixed fence posts, repaired a leak in the barn roof, cleared dead branches from the creek.