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Mandy reached for the door handle, but her hand was shaking so hard she couldn’t grasp it. She wanted to get out and face Arch while tossing hay out of the truck like a pro. But fear had its cold claws sunk in deep.
With a wave of his rope, Arch cleared the steers easily from his path. He took their place at her truck window, looking down at her from his relaxed perch in the saddle. “Do you want me to feed them?”
His voice was a balm of gentle concern that almost brought out the tears fizzing hot beneath her eyes. She felt her cheeks heat, too, and knew her usually pale skin had gone scarlet. She couldn’t answer. But she nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Just sit tight.”
She watched him in the side mirror as he guided his horse alongside the vehicle and leaned over, grabbing a few flakes of the hay she’d stacked there. He threw them to his right and several of the steers trotted toward the pile. Quickly he grabbed more hay and tossed it out behind the truck, creating another feeding area. Soon the pasture was littered with piles of hay surrounded by happy cattle. Mandy buried her face in her hands. He made it look so simple.
“All fed,” Arch called and brought his horse around to stand by her window again. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah, sure.” Her voice scraped over the words.
“I’ll open the gate. Why don’t you bring the truck outside the pasture and park it?”
Mandy nodded and turned on the engine in mindless obedience, glad he was in charge, because her brain was blank in the aftermath of panic.
Arch opened the gate and she bumped through it over the rough ground. She parked and watched Arch shut the gate in her rearview mirror. He rode so well. Slinging an easy leg over the horse’s back, he dismounted and led his horse toward her.
Dread tipped her stomach. He’d want an explanation. But what could she possibly say without sounding totally crazy?
She stared straight ahead, but he didn’t go away. She heard his footsteps crunching on the dry earth and then he was at her window, looking down at her with a mystified expression. “Mandy, are you all right? You’re so pale... Are you sick?”
She could only hold his gaze for a moment. There was too much mortifying worry in his eyes. “Not sick.” She ran her fingertips over the steering wheel in nervous zigzags, tracing the cord that wrapped the vinyl.
“Then?” he prompted.
She couldn’t spit out the humiliating truth. If she stared at the steering wheel hard enough, maybe it would keep her tears at bay.
Arch brought his hand to her arm, and she jumped at the touch. “Are you frightened?”
The truth, said out loud, was jarring. She yanked her arm away from his fingers. “No!” It was a shrill bleat of a lie, but she went with it. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night—too wound up after the wedding. When I got out of the truck to feed, I felt dizzy. That’s when you saw me fall back.”
His eyes were set deep beneath strong black brows. The skin around them creased with wear. Not smile lines. Hard-lived lines. When he searched her face, she knew he could see way too much. So she kept babbling. “I was just wondering if I should drive back out and feed them over the fence when you showed up. You saved me a lot of trouble and time.”
“But—”
“I’ve still got a lot of chores to do,” she interrupted. “I’m so glad you came along.”
“Mandy...” he tried again.
But she flashed him a plastic smile, desperate for space between them. “Boy, do I owe you! Yesterday you saved the cake, and today you salvaged my chore schedule.”
He was still intent on her, as if he could see right through her crazy. “What about the dizziness? Will you be okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll just drink some water,” she assured him. “And try to get more sleep.” Lying didn’t come naturally. A low ache was seeping through her skull. She put the truck in gear.
“Wait,” he said. “I came by to say thank you. For sticking up for me yesterday. For the cake, too.”
“Hey, it was no problem!” Since when did she talk like someone’s hearty uncle? “But really nice of you to come by and say so. You must be really busy. So I’ll let you get on with it. Thanks, Arch!” Mandy gave a vigorous wave, and he got the message and stepped back, that mystified look still on his face. She pressed the truck’s accelerator a little too hard and it jolted her forward, adding insult to awkwardness.
Mandy steered the pickup haphazardly away from the pasture. Adrenaline coursed as if she’d just barely escaped with her survival. It was embarrassing enough being afraid of everything. It would be worse if people found out. Especially Arch Hoffman. He’d spent ten years in jail and lived a life of crime before that. He’d probably never been frightened of anything in his life. Plus, he just looked so capable. Of anything.
Mandy parked by the barn and buried the heat of her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? When would she get over her fears? And why had she lied about them, again?
The answer was obvious. She was a coward. A coward with a bunch more livestock to feed. She’d have to run along the fence like a maniac, tossing hay over at different places as fast as she could. It was risky. The cattle might push each other against the barbed wire trying to get the hay.
Later today she’d call around and see if she could find temporary workers to help out on the ranch. For now, she’d just have to survive. She knew one thing for sure—there was no way she was going into a pasture with those scary, slobbery creatures again.
* * *
ARCH WATCHED MANDY’S truck swerve away in a cloud of dust. He’d thought they’d made a connection yesterday. That maybe they’d started some kind of friendship. He’d lain awake like a fool last night, reliving that moment when she’d brought him the cake. When she’d made him feel like he mattered.
As soon as he got done with his morning chores, he’d resolved to go find her, to thank her, to let her know what her kindness had meant. He’d ridden through the gate that separated their properties with high hopes. Of what he wasn’t sure. Maybe just more of what it felt like to be near her. Because she’d seen him as a real person, not just an ex-convict. Maybe because she was beautiful, and he wanted to see that beauty again.
But when he’d found her, none of that had been there. Except her beauty, of course. That wasn’t even dimmed by her pale skin, her worried eyes or the traces of dirt on her cheek. But the warmth, the sense that she cared, were all gone. Instead she’d almost run him over, trying to get away as fast as possible. Something had changed for her completely. But what?
It hit him like a blow to the sternum. She’d gone back to the wedding reception yesterday and talked with Nora and Wade about the bad he’d done. About what a heartless brother he’d been. That was what had changed. He couldn’t blame her for trying to avoid him. If he heard those stories, he’d hate that guy, too.
Anger rose, at himself, at his choices. Anger was his lifelong companion, the cartoon devil on his shoulder. In prison, there’d been a chaplain, Pastor Doug, who’d become Arch’s mentor and friend. Doug called anger the go-to emotion, because it was the first to show up. The pastor’s words rose from memory and settled him. Stop. Identify the feelings. All of them.
Arch took a deep breath and tried to make space in his mind. There was anger, always. But there was more. Frustration that his past was coloring every moment of the present. Disappointment that Mandy wasn’t looking at him the way she had yesterday. Shame that he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s regard. Fear that he never would be.
Losing the glimmer of hope she’d offered him felt big. Truth was, he’d been hanging on to it like a lifeline. But trying to get that hope from Mandy, or from anyone, was a big mistake. The only hope that mattered was the feeling deep inside him. That small, stubborn belief that he could be a better person.
He had to remake his life on his own. And standing around here feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to get him far.
Arch swung onto the big gelding. Funny, he didn’t even know the horse’s name. He’d seemed strong and calm. The best choice for a big guy like Arch. And they’d gotten along well so far.
He’d found a path that connected the two ranches via a big well at the top of both properties. He’d take that way home now. And along the way he’d try to put Mandy out of his thoughts.
Fall in the eastern Sierra brought cold mornings, even on sunny days. His breath was visible where the peaks cast their shadows. Arch focused on gratitude, for the chilly air in his lungs and the feel of the big horse under him. If there was a definition of freedom, it had to be this. Riding alone in the quiet of the autumn mountains. Granite boulders scattered everywhere, turning landscape into moonscape. Sagebrush clinging to the dry soil.
Arch leaned down and broke off a sprig, inhaling its earthy, rich scent. And something inside him broke open, his gratitude expanding in a warm, soaring feeling that lifted his shoulders and lightened his heart. The deepest relief. The purest joy. Elation. Because he was here in this beauty. He was home. He was free. And that miracle mattered, more than anything.
* * *
THE TRAIL WOUND lower into the deep valley that sheltered Marker Ranch. When the terrain leveled, Arch let the gelding break into a lope, loving the speed and the horse’s smooth gait. Eventually the trail became dirt road. They passed recently painted outbuildings. Mended fences. Arch slowed the horse to a walk near the newly repaired barn.
A dark blue pickup was parked alongside it. A man was leaning on the tailgate, waiting. The horse’s pace quickened, as if he recognized the visitor.
“You found trouble,” the man called.
Arch stopped the horse a few paces away. “Pardon me?”
The man stepped forward and rubbed the horse’s nose, and Arch caught a glimpse of a lean face under the brim of a worn brown felt hat. “Trouble. That’s this horse’s name.”
Arch couldn’t contain his laugh. “I always was good at finding trouble. Guess not much has changed. You must be Todd.”
“I sure am.” Todd ran a hand over Trouble’s neck and stepped back to take the big horse in. “He’s looking good.”
“He’s great to ride. I don’t know much about any of the horses. I just picked him because he’s big.”
“You picked well. He used to be wild, you know. Found him sweltering in a government corral about sixty miles south of here. He was angry as hell, so no one would adopt him. But with some time and patience, he came around.”
Arch swung his leg over Trouble’s back, his legs just a little wobbly when he hit the ground. His brother-in-law stuck his hand out and Arch took it, gratified by the firm grip. “Thanks for stopping by,” he said. “Good to meet you.”
Todd just nodded, assessing him the same as he’d done to the horse. Calm and observant. Then his glance went to Arch’s arm, where Trouble was trying to nibble at his sleeve. “Trouble likes you. So that’s a good sign.”
“He’s a good horse,” Arch said. “You did a fine job with him.”
“I gentled him, but your brother Wade trained him,” Todd said. “Trouble’s the second mustang he’s trained.”
His little brother trained wild horses. Arch was getting random pieces of the puzzle. If he put them together, maybe he could learn all he’d missed. “Well, I’ll have to compliment him, then.”
Todd gave the horse a gentle pat on the neck, but his voice was firm. “He’s put a lot of work into his horses. And into fixing up this ranch.”
“I know,” Arch told him.
“No, you don’t know, actually.” Todd stood up straighter. He wasn’t a huge guy. Tall, for sure, but still a couple of inches shorter than Arch, and lanky and lean. “You don’t know the work your brother and sister put in to clean this place up. It took months. It made them a little crazy. They’ve lived with snide comments and dirty looks because of the things you did. Things they had no part in.”
Todd didn’t need bulk and muscle. The guy was a ninja with words, cutting and slashing right to the point, leaving wounds salted with pure truth. The pain of it made Arch gruff. “You’re right. I was born and raised a complete asshole. When I got old enough, I continued that family tradition all on my own.”
“You’ve got no excuse?” Todd crossed his arms, waiting.
“Nope. I did stuff that is inexcusable. Look, Todd, I don’t have a list of reasons. I was who I was. The guy my dad taught me to be. I hate that guy, but I was that guy. In some ways I’ll never be rid of him.” The pain of it coiled in his guts.
“So what’s changed? Why should we trust you now?”
“I don’t have a good answer for that. One day I realized I didn’t want to be that guy anymore, so I turned myself in. Now I’m ready to be someone new. I’m not sure who that is, but I know he’ll be a better man than the first version.” He tried to think of a more eloquent way to put it. But all he found inside was raw regret. “That’s all I got.”
Todd looked at him thoughtfully. “I knew I’d like you,” he said.
“What?” If Todd had started speaking a foreign language, Arch wouldn’t have been more surprised.
“When Nora came back into the reception yesterday and told me you were back and that you’d turned yourself in, I knew I’d like you. I’m glad you don’t have excuses. If you did, you’d just be avoiding responsibility.”
Arch stared at his brother-in-law in shock. They were okay? Just like that? “I promised Nora and Wade they’d have nothing to regret by taking me in. I mean to keep that promise.”
“I think you do,” Todd said. “And I think you will. But if you don’t, I’ll have to kick you out. Got it?”
“Got it.” He’d never met anyone as straightforward as this. It was refreshing.
Todd ran a hand down Trouble’s neck. “He doesn’t seem too warm, and he’s definitely not tired. Let’s take a ride through the ranch. If you have any questions, maybe I can answer them.”
Arch nodded. “Sure. I have a lot of questions.”
“I’ll just go grab a horse, then.” Todd stepped into the tack room just inside the barn door and came back out with a halter and rope in hand.
“You need any help?” Arch called.
“Nah. I got it. I helped train them all, so it’s like visiting relatives.” Todd shot Arch a grin. “Only maybe not quite so complicated as that. Be right back.” He jogged down the lane that led to the pasture.
Arch led Trouble over to a trough by the barn wall so the gelding could grab a drink. Leaning on the big horse’s flank, he tried to take in his day so far. A roller coaster. He’d lost his connection with Mandy but gained a new one with Todd. Mandy had lost faith, but Todd might actually believe in him.
Pastor Doug had reminded him over and over again that freedom wasn’t some magical cure for everything. That it would be up and down, sometimes smooth and sometimes rough. That some people would accept him and some would turn their backs. It was only his first full day home, but Arch was seeing the truth of the pastor’s words.
He thought of Mandy driving away from him as fast as she could, and something in his chest ached. He knew he was lucky to have met Doug and to have learned so much from him. But sometimes he wished that his teacher wasn’t right quite so often.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3)
ARCH SIFTED THROUGH Wade’s collection of screws and bolts, all neatly labeled, none the size he needed. One of the gates was falling to pieces, and Todd had put the repair job at the top of Arch’s to-do list when they toured the ranch together yesterday. Arch picked up a half-inch bolt and studied it. Maybe he could make it work. But it was hard to focus, because he was still worried about Mandy.
His disappointment from yesterday had faded, and intuition had replaced emotion. Intuition deep down, telling him something was wrong. That it wasn’t just him she’d been fleeing in her truck yesterday. And with her on the ranch alone, it was easy to imagine what that something might be. Maybe a ranch hand was giving her trouble now that her sister and Wade were away. Or maybe she was ill and didn’t want to see a doctor for some reason.
But she’d made it clear that she didn’t want his help. So who should he tell? Todd was the obvious person. Arch set the bolt back in its compartment. He’d go to town. Stop by Todd’s repair shop and share his concerns about Mandy. Then he could get the right-size bolts from the hardware store, too.
Arch folded his list, shoved it in the pocket of his jeans and headed for the house. After a quick wash and a change of shirt, he grabbed the keys to Wade’s old pickup. And stopped, staring at them lying so innocent in his hand. He had no license. Getting out of jail meant starting from scratch.
His heart rate picked up a few extra beats. He shouldn’t be driving. He’d be breaking the law. Violating parole.
He went to the old rotary phone in the hallway and picked up the receiver. But there was no dial tone. Of course. No one had been living here lately. It made sense they’d turn off the service to save money.
He jangled the keys in his palm. Mandy might be in trouble. The buzz of worry drowned out his concerns. The road to town went through open country. Then he’d just have to make it a few blocks in town to Todd’s shop. It would be fine. It had to be.
In the truck, a few jarring stalls in first gear reminded Arch that he hadn’t driven in ten years. He took a couple of laps, steering the old Chevy around the barn and down the lane to the lower pastures before he three-point turned in jerky motions and headed toward the road.
Driving through open country was easy, but Todd’s repair shop was near downtown Benson, and each landmark Arch passed was an uncomfortable reminder of old mistakes.
First there was the bridge just outside town, where he and his adolescent buddies had smoked and made trouble. They’d throw nails in the road to pop tires, stupid stuff like that.
Then he passed the liquor store, where his underage bulk and bullying had made Mr. Howell so nervous, he’d sold him alcohol without an ID.
Almost to Todd’s shop, Arch caught a glimpse of the back lot behind the outdoor store. The place he’d beat the crap out of Will Barkley for just looking at Arch’s girlfriend Kit. Then left him bleeding in the dust.
Shame stole his senses. He pulled over. He lived with a dormant monster inside him. A punk-kid monster who’d thought nothing of hurting another person.
And Kit. He hadn’t thrown any punches at her, but he’d inflicted pain. The kind that came from walking away from a five-year relationship without even a goodbye. He’d told himself it was for her own good. If she didn’t know where he was, the police couldn’t pin anything on her. But the truth was, he could have called, or left a note. He’d been too much of a coward to face her sadness.
He looked around the deserted street, as if he might see Kit walking right by. But what was he thinking? She’d been fiery, determined to get the hell out of Benson and see the world. No way was she still around town. Which was good, because he didn’t know how he’d face her. One more relationship he’d destroyed. One more mess that I’m sorry could never clean up.
Arch swiped damp palms down his jeans. He had to stay in the present. Mandy might need help. That was the reality, what he needed to focus on. He put the truck back into gear and pulled carefully away from the curb. He could find a few hundred bad deeds to regret in this town. But that would have to wait for another day.
Todd’s shop appeared on his left. Arch avoided the gravel parking lot, pulling the truck to the curb instead. He’d have to face local folks sometime, but he’d rather not do it trying to remember how to park between other cars.
A man in a straw cowboy hat was slouching on a bench just outside the shop. He stood when he saw Arch crossing the street. And Arch’s blood curdled. Connor Purcell.
Arch’s hands coiled automatically. He willed them to straighten. They weren’t kids anymore, and fists wouldn’t help here.
