Temporary Rancher

“It’ll be fine. I wanted us to get a slower start, see if we were going to hit it off and be able to work together, but with the deadline, he’ll have to hit the ground running. I’ve told him where to find the keys, and left my cell phone number.”

The two men talked a few minutes longer. There wasn’t anyone Quintin trusted more than Ethan, anyone whose opinion he valued more, and it helped to walk through a few details and concerns that had kept him sleepless at night.

When they returned to Ethan’s truck in the front drive, his friend looked him straight in the eye. “You know I’ve got your back, Quint. I’ll help any way I can.”

“Thanks. I know I can count on you,” he replied. He ducked his head, then met his friend’s gaze. “Actually, I’m sort of looking forward to putting down roots again. And this place can use someone to bring it back to life.”

Ethan frowned. “I thought…”

Quintin waved a hand. “I know what I said back then. But that was a long time ago, and we were both drunk.”

Years ago, he and Ethan had been snowed in during a Colorado winter. Four miserably cold nights. When they’d run out of tall tales and worked their way through enough beer, they’d both ended up confessing their biggest fears, their wildest dreams, their greatest regrets. Quintin had never told anyone else what he’d admitted to Ethan that night. And although it had felt pretty damn good at the time to unload, looking back, he wished he hadn’t opened his mouth. That kind of past shame needed to stay buried and never see the light of day.

“Look how things have turned around for you,” Quintin pointed out, hoping to focus attention away from himself. “Five years ago, could you have imagined that you’d be back with Cassie? That you’d have a nearly-grown son and a baby on the way?”

“Is that what you’re really looking for?” Ethan asked. His voice was soft, like a leaf falling. “A wife and kids?”

“Hell, no,” Quintin replied with a laugh. Why had he ever taken this detour? “I’m not crazy enough to bite off that much more than I can chew.” When his friend remained silent, he added, “I’m just saying that I feel like I need a change. Like I’m ready for something different.”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, but Ethan was no fool. From personal experience, they both knew that so much of grieving was just holding things at bay. No more. Quintin had spent a decade trying to forget the life he had lived and lost. Teresa, his pretty young wife. Tommy, his son, a cheerful little boy who could make the most ordinary day seem special.

Sometimes Quintin could see both their faces so clearly in his mind’s eye. But these days their features were often like mists across a pond, formless and just out of reach.

As though he knew they needed to switch topics, Ethan pulled his truck keys from the back pocket of his jeans. He took one last look around. “You’ve got one hell of a job ahead of you, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

“Thanks.”

He clapped Quintin on the shoulder. “Call me if you need anything. And look at it this way, if all your plans end up in the toilet, you know where you can get a job.”

CHAPTER TWO

FIVE MILES FROM BEAUMONT, the weak sunshine that had spilled through the SUV’s windows all morning faded. It started to rain, hard. Definitely not a good sign from the gods, Riley thought.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. Both girls were napping in the backseat, curled against one another like puppies. Wendy flinched in her sleep as the first clap of thunder sounded in the distance. She’d always been afraid of storms, the exact opposite of Roxanna, who thought rain and wind made perfect dancing partners.

“Girls,” Riley said softly. “Wake up. We’re almost there.”

They sat up with groggy interest, watching water streak down the side glass of the SUV. Neither one said a word, and Riley was glad for the silence so she could concentrate on negotiating the road.

She almost missed the turnoff to the ranch. The sky had darkened to a muddy gray and bruised purple. The trees beyond the wildly swishing windshield wipers looked as if they were doing a mad waltz with the wind. The dirt drive had potholes nearly large enough to swallow the car, and she came upon the house so suddenly that she had to brake hard to keep from taking out a couple bushes in the yard.

Because of the way she’d parked, the headlights sent a direct beam of harsh light onto the Echo Springs ranch house.

It wasn’t what Riley expected.

In his few emails, Quintin Avenaco had told her that the original home was still standing—a three-bedroom Victorian. It needed work, he’d said, but it had potential, and a sound foundation.

Riley had pictured a quaint dollhouse of a place. Perhaps with the look of a tattered Southern lady, but charming. A house just waiting to be nurtured back into a real home.

But this…this place needed more than a woman’s loving touch.

Shutters that must be hanging by a single screw bracketed some of the second-floor windows. There were cockeyed porch balusters, crumbling bricks along the entry stairs and whole sections of gingerbread trim missing along the eaves. The house probably hadn’t been properly cared for since Roosevelt was in office. Teddy, not Franklin.

The disrepair gave it a sad, slightly creepy appearance. The fact that a storm was raging, whipping rain and debris everywhere, didn’t help.

Roxanna had unfastened her seat belt and hung over the seat back. “Cool!” she exclaimed, her eyes alight with excitement. “Do you think it’s haunted?”

I hope not, Riley said to herself. I certainly hope not. In as steady and upbeat a voice as she could master, she replied, “It’s not haunted. It just needs a little work.” And a bulldozer.

Wendy was hanging over the front seat now, as well, but her face told quite a different story from her sister’s. “Are we going to have to live there?” she asked in a whispery tone, her eyes full of grave concern.

“Of course not,” Riley replied. “We have a cozy little place all to ourselves. Somewhere…” She squinted through the rain and eerie darkness until she spotted the watery image of a big barn a short distance away. “Over there, I think.”

“I want to go back to Aunt Jillian’s,” Wendy said, unswayed.

Roxanna sniffed. “Big baby.”

The rain beat a hard tattoo on the roof, making Riley’s headache pound in unison. She released her seat belt and turned to face both girls. “Stop it, you two. We’ve come all this way and we’re not going to turn back now without even getting out of the car.”

“We can’t get out of the car,” Roxanna pointed out. “It’s raining too hard.”

“I mean we’re not going anywhere until we’ve given this a fair chance. The man who owns this place wants me to help him turn it into a real ranch. I’m going to work very hard for him, but I can’t give it everything I’ve got if you aren’t on my side. I know you’re nervous and a little afraid—”

“I’m not afraid,” Roxanna stated.

Riley eyed her with the most intimidating look in her mom arsenal. “I know you’d probably rather be back with Aunt Jillian. But girls, we have to give this our best shot. I need your help. So keep an open mind, will you?” She smiled. “For my sake?”

The twins nodded solemnly.

“Wait here,” Riley added, giving Roxanna a warning glance. “Do not get out of the car. I’ll find the keys, and then we’ll make a run for it. This is going to be great. I just know it.”

Her daughters looked at each other doubtfully, but refrained from comment.

Riley gasped as the first hard, cold raindrops hit her. It did little good to cover her head with her arms. In moments she was soaked.

She took the steps two at a time, nearly twisting her ankle as the wood gave under her foot. Flipping over the flowerpot by the front door, she retrieved the keys and an envelope Avenaco had left for her, then dashed back to the car. The whole ordeal took less than a minute, but by the time she slid into the front seat again, she had to wipe rainwater out of her eyes just to see anything.

The twins remained silent as she carefully drove toward the barn, splashing through more potholes. Those will have to be filled, she thought, automatically starting a to-do list in her head.

The map Avenaco had left for her indicated that the apartment was attached to the right side of the barn, a pretty standard setup. Most ranchers liked their second-in-command to be close, with easy access to both the main house and primary barn.

Riley parked, wrenched open the car door and hustled the twins out. They squealed as the rain hit them. She jammed the key into the lock, and was never happier in her life than when she felt the dead bolt slide back. They practically fell through the opening as the wind and rain swirled around them.

Gasping and dripping in near darkness, the three of them stood a moment, trying to catch their breaths. Riley’s hand found the light switch by the door. She flicked it on, and the room sprang into life.

Oh, dear God.

The place was smaller than Jillian’s. A miniscule kitchen to one side led out to a dining-living room combination. A closed door on the far wall probably accessed the only bedroom. Through another door Riley glimpsed a slice of sink and tub in a very small bathroom. The walls were wood-paneled in knotty pine, giving the place a gloomy, closed-in feel.