The Ranch She Left Behind

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“Everything seems perfect,” he assured her. It was strange—especially given that she clearly already had an army poised to protect her—but he still had the urge to put her at ease. “We’re going to turn in early, I’m sure.”

He lifted one eyebrow playfully. “Most of it is already a bit of a blur. For instance, I can hardly remember this morning.”

She gave him a grateful smile. But the sisters had reached the driveway, so she launched one more time into a rote introduction. Max said the polite phrases, shaking hands with the two beauties who stared at him as if he were Jack the Ripper. They talked about having plenty of food to share, but he insisted on heading back into his own side of the duplex.

He almost got away. Just as he reached his own door, he saw a shadow fall behind him. He turned, and wasn’t surprised to see Gray Harper standing on the front porch.

Max had figured out, finally, what must have happened. Small-town grapevines being what they were—someone must have reported the kiss.

“Look,” he said, “I don’t know what’s bugging you guys. I’m here to do a construction project, a resort just outside town called Silverdell Hills. You can look me up, if you’d like. I’m a paying tenant. I have no intention of annoying your sister-in-law in any way.”

Gray tilted his head. “Well, apparently there’s a story going around—”

“I’m sure there is. I’m not sure exactly what the story said by the time it reached you, but she kissed me, not vice versa.”

The other man grinned. Though he was irritated, Max had to admire that Gray didn’t try to deny it, or to pretend that Max had imagined the unanimous, wordless antagonism.

“Fair enough,” Gray said. “That is what we heard, actually. That she kissed you. But Ro and Bree couldn’t believe it—and it does sound a bit out of character.”

“I wouldn’t have a clue.” Max shrugged. “I hadn’t ever met her—I mean, met her by name—until ten minutes ago. When I was told I had a landlady named Penelope Wright, I pictured some blue-haired grandmother who would grow delphiniums and make cookies for my daughter.”

“She does make a mean cookie, I hear.” Gray smiled. “Look, I don’t blame you for being ticked off. But you know how sisters can be. Or you will, if you live here long. These sisters, in particular. They worry about Penny as if it were their full-time job.”

Max raised his eyebrows. “Gray. I don’t know what Penny’s problems are. But I know what mine are. I came here for some quiet time to focus on my daughter, who lost her mother last year. I’m not a con man or a pervert. But I am tired, and I need to get my daughter home, fed and put to bed.”

“Okay.” Gray nodded. “But there’s just one last thing. No offense intended, honestly. But Bree won’t sleep if I don’t tell you. See, Penny’s the baby of the family, and she’s been through a lot. When they heard the story about this morning, they about flipped.”

“Just say it, Harper,” Max said, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt. “Whatever it is, no offense taken, I guarantee.”

“Well.” Gray shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “They want you to know that Penny...well, her brother-in-law, Dallas... The thing is...he’s the sheriff.”

The sheriff? So?

Then Max understood, and, finally, he started to laugh. This was about as unsubtle a warning as he could possibly imagine. He began to wonder whether Penny might be more than merely charmingly naive. Maybe she was a little barmy. Why else would her whole family feel so frantic to caution him that she was protected?

Or...on second thought...maybe the whole family was nuts. Maybe, by renting this duplex in a hurry, he’d just stepped into the biggest nest of crazy in all of Colorado.

“Fantastic.” He let his laugh die off to a dark chuckle. “The sheriff of Silverdell. Got it. You can report that I am sufficiently intimidated by the badge. But listen. I’m going to say this one more time, and then I really think you should let it go. Your sister-in-law may have problems. In fact, I’m starting to be pretty sure she does. But I am not one of them.”

CHAPTER FOUR

ELLEN WAS SO mad at everybody she wondered if she might explode. For the past half hour, she’d been sitting under the biggest tree in the orchard behind their new place, with her back against the trunk. She was uncomfortable, but she’d rather be miserable here than cozy back at the duplex.

To let off steam, she was tearing off blades of grass and throwing them as far as she could—which wasn’t far, because it was windy and the grass kept boomeranging back in her face.

She didn’t want to be in this stupid town—if you could even call it a town when it had only one street with stores, and nothing at all to do. She wanted to be back in Chicago, with her friends.

Or at least the girls who used to be her friends.

She frowned as hard as she could, because she had a stinging in her eyes and a hot feeling in her throat that made her afraid she might cry. She picked up her cell phone for the tenth time in the past minute and checked for incoming texts. Nothing.

She had sent a group text to all her friends at least fifteen minutes ago. She wasn’t supposed to use the data package—her dad didn’t want her on the internet. The phone was only for emergencies. But she didn’t care. She needed to talk to somebody from home.

So she’d taken a picture of herself with the built-in camera, making sure you could see the mountains in the background, and she’d sent it to everyone. She was smiling like she was having the time of her life, and the text said, <3 CO! Epic sky, adorbs cottage. Miss u!

It had taken her a while to think of the perfect words. She couldn’t say duplex, of course. Cottage admitted that it was small, but it sounded quaint and fun instead of pathetic and trashy.

The picture of her was good, too. She’d held the camera high, which made her face look skinnier. Plus, she was wearing the gold earrings her mom had left her, which were very sophisticated. And real, which was important. Stephanie said only losers wore jewelry that wasn’t real.

But no one had texted back. Not even Becky, who had always been on the fringes of their group because Stephanie didn’t like her. Stephanie said Becky was greasy from eating too much fast food. Probably, though, Becky would be allowed on the inside now.

Now that Ellen was gone, and a place had opened up.

The wind rose, tickling her hair into her face, and her eyes stung even worse. She swallowed three times, trying to loosen that tight feeling in her throat, and then clicked on her Facebook app. Maybe she should just post the picture there, so everyone could see.

But Facebook made her feel worse. Her news feed was full of pictures Stephanie and the gang had just taken at the mall, where they’d gone to see a movie. “Less than a minute ago” they’d been horsing around at the Organic Highway counter at the food court. Laughing, throwing stuff at each other, making funny faces.

And, look at that shot! Becky stood so close to Gregory Parr the whole world could see she had a crush on him.

Well, Gregory Parr was the cutest guy in school. Ellen had a graph in her diary tracking how long it would take her to lose fifteen pounds, and what she’d do then to make Greg notice her.

Except for Stephanie, who had been held back in first grade and was older than the rest of them, no one in their group had a boyfriend. Not outright. But everyone knew who liked who, and everybody knew you didn’t go after the boys your friends had chosen.

But here was Becky, clearly trying to call dibs on Gregory. Ellen’s fury rose. If greasy Becky Fife thought she could just move in and take over every single part of Ellen’s life...her guy, her friends...

Ellen could imagine her dad’s reaction. “Could they really have been friends if they have forgotten about you in a week?”

Could Dad really be that clueless?

Of course they were going to forget her. They hung out together every day, and when you were gone, you were gone. You could hardly expect them to sit around for nine months waiting for you to come back.

Her tears had begun to fall. She reached up and ripped off her left earring angrily. They were only hooked over the edge of her ear, anyhow, because her ears weren’t pierced.

Thanks for that, too, Dad.

She yanked the second one, and the filigreed hoop went flying out of her hand into the tall grass around her.

“Oh, my God. No!” She got on all fours and tried to comb the grass, praying to see the winking gold. “No!”

A sudden rustling in the tree overhead startled her. She felt a spasm of fear and froze in place. No bird could possibly be that big. Not even an eagle. Well, maybe an eagle. What did she know about eagles?

She sniffed, trying to keep her nose from running. She hated hick places like this. It could be anything up there. A snake, or a cougar, or...

“What’s the matter? What are you looking for?”

And abruptly, there he was. A boy, draped over the lowest big branch like the Cheshire cat, his skinny blue jeans and sneakers dangling, his grin and upturned eyes laughing at her.

Suddenly, she was madder than ever. He must have been in the tree the whole time. He’d probably been watching her when she took the picture of herself. Pictures. She’d taken fifteen different shots, trying for one that looked perfect.

She blushed furiously, thinking how she’d smirked at herself in the camera, trying to look happy and cute.

“Who are you?” She lifted onto her knees, fists on her hips. “That’s pretty rude, to spy on people.”

“Hey, now.” The boy swung himself down like a monkey and plopped onto the grass a couple of feet away. “I wasn’t spying. I was sleeping, and when I woke up, you were there, acting weird. I didn’t say anything because I was waiting for you to go away. It’s my tree, after all.”

“It can’t be your tree. This is a school playground. Playgrounds belong to the city, not to people.” But then her curiosity got the better of her. “How can you have been sleeping in a tree? Isn’t that dangerous?”

The boy dusted off his hands. “Not if you know how.” His grin broadened, his sunburned face busting out in white teeth, practically from ear to ear. “I know how.”

For a minute, when he smiled, he looked kind of cute. He was a few inches taller than she was, and wiry, like boys were when they had too much energy and never stood still. His hair was blond and thick, and his eyes were a sparkly blue—just about the same color as the sky, now that it was almost evening.

Ellen still thought Greg was cuter, because this guy looked like he might be a hick, with his dirty blue jeans and cowboy boots and flannel shirt with the cuffs rolled back. But he was pretty cute, anyhow. Stephanie would definitely think so. Stephanie had a thing for cowboys.

“So.” The boy took a Tootsie Roll out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and stuffed it into his mouth. As he started to chew, he paused. He let his hand hover over his pocket, looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Want one?”

She did. Though she hadn’t noticed it before, she was starving. But she thought about the diet chart in her diary. And she thought about how she’d look like a cow, chewing away at the sticky candy. He certainly did, although he obviously didn’t care what she thought. “No, thanks.”

“’K.” He chewed a little more. “So what are you looking for?”

The sudden recollection of her awful mistake shot through her like a hot poker. How could she have been thinking about cute guys, or even her diet, when she’d lost her mother’s earring?

“My earring. It fell off.”

“You yanked it off, you mean.” But the kid didn’t sound judgmental, just factual. He chewed thoughtfully, his gaze scanning the overgrown grass. “What does it look like?”

She held out her hand, opening the palm to show him the match. He walked closer, put his hands on his knees, bent down and studied it without touching, the way he might look at a specimen in science class.

“Is that really yours? It looks kind of grown-up for you.” He tilted his head. “How old are you?”

“I’m eleven,” she said, lifting her chin to look older, and, she hoped, skinnier. “I’m plenty old enough to wear earrings. Why? How old are you?”

He chewed on his lower lip briefly. “I’m ten,” he said.

“What grade?”

“Fourth.”

Oh, man. He was a whole grade below her. She felt stupid for having thought he was cute. No wonder he carried Tootsie Roll candy around in his pocket and didn’t care if he looked ugly chewing a wad of caramel in front of a girl.

“Well, I’m going into fifth,” she said. “And these earrings are definitely mine. My mother gave them to me. It can’t have gone far, but the grass is so high....”

She got back on her knees and started ruffling her palm over the grass, inch by inch. “It’s important.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s real,” she said. Then, in case a cowboy kid wouldn’t know what that meant, she added, “like, I mean...real gold.”

He nodded, dropped to his knees and started combing the grass, too. He was working an area much closer to where she’d been sitting, and she suddenly realized that was smarter. The earring wouldn’t have flown this far.

She subtly worked her way back toward him, but her hopes were fading. This was like the old cliché—finding a needle in a haystack. The thatch of golden-brown dead grass below the new growth was almost exactly the same color as the earring.

And it would be dark soon.

“So will your mom be super mad? Will you get in trouble if we don’t find it?”

She glanced over at the boy. It was nice, him saying we like that, as if they were partners in the hunt. He didn’t have to help. He could have walked away and gone home.

“Not trouble from my mom.” She bent her head again. “My mom died. Almost a year ago.”

“Aw. Dang.” The boy paused and looked at her. “I’m sorry about that.”

She didn’t respond. If her eyes got blurry with tears, she wouldn’t have any chance at all of spotting the circle of gold in the grass.

“Got it!” The boy suddenly jumped to his feet, his fist in the air triumphantly.

Relief washed through her. She stood, too, holding out her hand.

He deposited the earring in her palm with a flourish. “There you go!”

It felt cold, from lying on the ground. She closed her fingers, as if to chafe warmth back into it. She looked up at him, so grateful she forgot to play cool.

“Thank you. Thank you so much....”

“Alec.” The boy grinned. “Alec Garwood, rancher, wrangler and part-time treasure hunter.”

She grinned back. She couldn’t help it. She was so happy that she hadn’t lost the only thing her mother had given her directly, with her own hands. And his smile was that kind of smile. The kind you could catch, like a cold.

“I’m Ellen Thorpe. We moved in today. We’re renting the yellow cottage over there.”

“No kidding!” Alec glanced at the cottage. “That’s a cool place. So you’ve just moved here? Where from?”

“We haven’t exactly moved. We’re taking a year off while my dad works on a resort he’s building.” She didn’t feel the need to mention the shoplifting, the bad grades, the arguments with her dad. “It’s more like a long vacation. But I still live in Chicago.”

He frowned, as if he might quarrel with that way of seeing things, but then he shrugged. “Whatever. Anyhow, those are pierced earrings. No wonder you lost them. Why don’t you get your ears pierced, so they won’t fall off?”

She straightened. “Maybe I don’t want to get my ears pierced.”

He looked skeptical about that, too. “All girls want their ears pierced,” he said reasonably. “Oh. I see. You’re scared to?”

“Of course not. It’s just that my dad won’t let me.”

Alec looked confused. “So?”

She stared at him. “What do you mean, so?”

“I mean...so what? How can he stop you?” Alec grinned. “My theory is I’d rather ask forgiveness than permission.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “You didn’t make that line up. That’s famous.”

“I didn’t say I made it up. I said that’s what I do. Grown-ups don’t ever want you to do anything fun. They’re afraid you’ll get hurt.” He sighed. “But you gotta do what you gotta do, you know? If you get in trouble for it, well, whatever. They can’t eat you, right?”