Wide Open Spaces

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"Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything."

~ C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

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The Seresin Ranch sprawls over six thousand acres of Northern Texas hills covered in cypress and elm and oak, occasionally dotted with patches of pecan trees. Green fields and staggering hills trying to be dramatic but falling short of the epicness of the Sierra Nevadas.

Fields of Texas sage, Turk's cap, blackfoot daisies, red yucca, and a rainbow of colors of lantana sprawl as far as the eye can see.

Creeks and rivers twist and turn around the ranches and farms and small cities that dotted that part of the countryside.

At the beginning of the ranch road, a new gate stands, a stylized Seresin Ranch with a cutout of a cowboy on horseback, hangs and shifts in the wind, framed on each side by plots of fiery red lantana and blackfoot daisies.

They line the road all the way to the homestead.

It's all cut and measured to be as dramatic as possible when the rising sun catches it, casting the long shadow of the cowboy across the road, and the visitors make the appropriate noises of appreciation as Ren starts in on the history of the ranch.

It started from a single plot claimed by the daughter of the pilgrims that died there.

Three generations later and it was one of the first thriving family ranches in Texas.

They held out through the Commanche (Ren's blood), the US Cavalry, the Mexican Army, and run-of-the-mill bandits and outlaws.

There are Seresins buried from the Indian Wars, the Civil War, the Alamo, the war for Texas Independence, and pretty much every other conflict that's taken place in American history.

One of the first Texas Rangers was a Seresin.

One of the first Madames to run a brothel in the state was a Seresin too, an early advocate of women's rights.

They've four thousand head of longhorn cattle, two hundred horses they breed and train and sell for upwards of fifty thousand a piece, and a scattering of goats, sheep, chickens, pigs, and god knows how many dogs and cats.

They breed and train Australian Shepherds, too, the American cowboy's dogs. They sell for four thousand a piece.

They're all little psychopaths, Ren says cheerfully, don't trust the cute faces, and it serves its purpose of making them all nervous.

They have a veritable army of ATVs, pick-ups, small tractors and farm equipment, and two planes. Davey's old Cessna and a newer crop duster they use for the few acres they have dedicated to wheat and corn and Amara's vegetables.

They've got vague plans of becoming self-sufficient someday, but they've also got about fifty people, some with families, that work and live on the ranch, so it's going to take a bit.

They have a live-in Ferrier and vet, Ren's cousin and Javy's sister, respectively.

They sell beef to major corporations at twice the market average and offer deals to local businesses and restaurants.

They've had the top-rated steak in the state for the last five years running.

They do just over five million in meat sales each year. Their horses and dogs take gold in rodeo and agility competitions every year.

And legally, it's all Peter and Jake's.

The Seresin trust was designed by the only member of the family to ever become a lawyer. Written on the eve of ranching becoming a corporation thing instead of a family thing, and the brilliantly written trust locked out anyone without Seresin blood.

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