Ranch At River's End

She hadn’t meant to be nosy. “No—it—I was just admiring your SUV.”

He gestured toward the folded up seats. “Michaela and I are the only ones who usually ride in it.”

The words were casual, but his voice sounded oddly strained, and Darci couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he wasn’t saying. Just because he and his daughter were the only two who used the SUV didn’t mean he had to fold the other seats down, did it? Darci found the situation odd but shrugged it off.

Jordan crouched beside the Ford to keep track of the air compressor’s progress, watching the attached dial gauge.

It would take a good fifteen to twenty minutes for the tire to fill, and Darci was getting wet. She wondered if she could go back to sit in her car, or if that would seem rude.

After all, Jordan was getting pelted by the rain, too.

“Have you got a jack?” she asked, opting to stay and help. “I can remove the other tire if you want.”

“I’ll get it,” he said, “but you don’t need to stand out here getting wet. I can do it.”

“I don’t mind,” she said.

Jordan went around to the front of the SUV and took a scissor jack from beneath the hood. Returning, he slid it underneath the SUV and crawled after it to adjust the jack’s position, then wriggled back out. Crouching again, he twisted the jack handle clockwise, raising the frame to lift the flat off the ground.

A sudden bang startled her, and for a split second, Darci thought the radial had overinflated and blown up. Involuntarily, she let out a little shriek—just as Jordan flung himself against her, shielding her body with his own.

What the…?

Darci grimaced self-consciously as she realized the loud noise had come from an old pickup truck that had driven past and backfired. Silly her. She glanced up into Jordan’s face, prepared to apologize for shrieking.

He was sweating so profusely even the rain couldn’t hide it. And the fear that crossed his features was so intense….

What on earth?

“You okay?” Darci asked. “It was only a truck backfiring.”

Looking embarrassed, Jordan took a step back. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. Without another word, he turned his attention to removing the flat. “You might as well get out of the rain. No sense in us both getting wet.”

“Okay. Sure.”

Darci sat in her car, pondering what had just happened. Lost in thought, she nearly jumped when Jordan tapped on her window.

“All set,” he said.

Darci got out of the car. He’d already put away his tools and had the cord and hose wrapped neatly in place around her air compressor. She reached for it, but he held it aloft.

“I’ll get it.” Jordan carried the compressor to the back of the car. Darci popped the truck so he could set it inside. “Thanks again,” he said. “I really appreciate your stopping. Guess I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“Yeah, sure.” She watched as he trotted through the rain and climbed into the Explorer.

Belatedly, Darci realized she’d forgotten to tell him they were neighbors.

SATURDAY MORNING DARCI dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots and a dark brown Resistol, and she and Christopher headed for the Shadow S. Stella had more requests for riding lessons than she could handle, considering she also ran a barrel-racing clinic, and had been happy to hire Darci on as her part-time help.

Anxious for her first day on the job, Darci parked near the barn and got out. Even Christopher was in high spirits. He hadn’t been horseback riding on the Shadow S since he was in grade school and had only ridden a few times at the boarding stables outside Northglenn where Darci had worked. He’d gotten to the point where he’d shown little interest in riding at all, and Darci was glad to see him wanting to get back in the saddle.

Over Chris’s protests, she had used some of her savings and taken her son shopping that morning. Leon and Stella had rules, and one of them was: no boots, no riding. A tennis shoe could slip through a stirrup and hang a rider up if he fell. People had been killed that way.

And Darci had insisted her son get a pair of jeans that didn’t bag halfway down his butt. He’d grumbled as if she were sentencing him to jail, but now he didn’t appear to mind wearing the Levi’s and cowboy boots she’d purchased at the local feed store.

Leon was cleaning stalls when they arrived. He wore his usual gray cowboy hat, battered boots, faded jeans and flannel shirt. His silver handlebar mustache made him look like he belonged back in the 1800s.

“Hey, kids!” he called, still thinking of Darci that way. “You ready to start your first day, kiddo?” With one meaty hand, he grasped the shovel he’d been using and leaned it against the side of the stall before shifting his six-foot, three-inch frame into the aisle.

“You’d better know it,” Darci said. “Chris, you make sure you listen to your uncle today or no riding.”

“Aw, he’ll be fine,” Leon said before Christopher could protest. “Help me finish these stalls, Chris, and we’ll be off.”

Chris grimaced. “Me, clean up horse crap? I don’t think so.”

“You want to ride, you help Uncle Leon,” Darci said. “Having horses isn’t all fun and games.”

“I don’t have a horse,” he said, making Darci want to shake him.

“No, but you’re going to ride one—if you help.”

“Fine.” He shuffled over and took hold of a rake.

Darci blew out a puff of air that lifted her bangs, mentally counting to ten. “Listen to Uncle Leon,” she repeated. “Kick him in the butt if he doesn’t,” she added to her uncle.

Leon only chuckled. “He’ll be fine.”

Was she overreacting to Chris’s attitude? Darci wondered. She didn’t think so.

She found Stella saddling a chestnut mare, her short, red hair tucked under her own cowboy hat, the sleeves of her Western shirt rolled up. A short time later, Darci was mounted on the chestnut and in the arena with her first student—a ten-year-old girl named Jodi. The hour-long lesson flew by, and Darci was heading to the office in the barn to get herself some bottled water when another car pulled up outside the stables.

A pretty woman in her mid to late thirties got out and smiled at Darci. She wore boots, jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a quarter horse on it, her strawberry-blond hair caught up in a ponytail beneath a ball cap.

“Hi. I’m Nina Drake. Is Stella here?”

Darci was taken by pleasant surprise. “Nina—I’m Darci Taylor. My son, Christopher, has an appointment scheduled with you for Thursday.”

“Oh, hello.” Nina held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Darci.” She pushed back the stray hairs that had escaped her ponytail. “I’ve been puttering around at the rental stables in town, doing a little riding for relaxation, but I think I need help to hone my skills. I’m here for my first riding lesson with your aunt.”

“Sounds like a plan. Follow me. Stella’s in the arena out back.”

The Shadow S boasted two arenas, the one where Darci had been giving a lesson and one behind the barn. She steered Nina in the right direction, then got her water and prepared for her next student.

By the end of the day Darci was tired in a good way and ready to go home and soak in a hot bubble bath.

She drove on autopilot, chatting with Chris, fully unprepared for what greeted her as she pulled into the driveway of the house they’d moved into just five days ago. Darci stared at the single word of graffiti spray-painted in red across the garage door.

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