The Rancher's Homecoming

“Hey, girl, how are you? I wasn’t sure you still lived in Sweetheart.”

He spoke with an ease that gave no hint of those last angry words they’d exchanged. He even used his once familiar endearment for her and might have swept her into a hug if Annie didn’t step to the side.

“Still here.”

“I heard about the inn.” Regret filled his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” She lifted her chin. “We’re going to rebuild. As soon as we settle with the insurance company.”

“You look good.” His gaze never left her face, for which she was glad. He didn’t seem to notice her rumpled and soiled khaki uniform. Her hair escaping her ponytail and hanging in limp tendrils. Her lack of makeup. “Th-thank you.”

“Been a while.”

“Quite a while.”

His blue eyes transfixed her, as they always had, and she felt her bones melt.

Dammit! Her entire world had fallen apart the past six weeks. She didn’t need Sam showing up, kicking at the pieces.

“What are you doing here?” she said, repeating her earlier question. “How did you get in?”

“The real estate agent gave me the keys.” He held them up in an offering of proof, his potent grin disarming her. “I always liked this place.”

He had. They’d come here often when they were dating. She’d show him the areas off-limits to tourists, all the while going on and on about her plans to buy the ranch and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. Plans Sam had shared.

Now he was here, holding the keys.

He couldn’t possibly be interested in purchasing the place. He lived in Northern California. Worked there. Had a wife and daughter there, the last she’d heard.

“How’s your mom and grandmother?” he asked.

“Fine.” She wouldn’t admit the truth. None of them were fine after losing everything and they wore their scars each in their own way. “I have a daughter now. She’s three.”

His smile changed and became softer. “I’m happy for you. You always wanted kids. Your husband from Sweetheart?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “We’re not married anymore.” Good grief. What had possessed her to admit that?

“A shame.” Emotions difficult to read flashed in his eyes. “Losing a spouse is hard.”

He said it as if he had firsthand experience.

“I’m managing,” she admitted. “We’re managing.”

“Maybe you can let me in on the secret.”

“You’re divorced?”

“Widowed. My wife died a year and a half ago.”

“Oh, Sam.” Her heart nearly stopped.

“A drunk driver ran the light.”

She’d never known the woman but felt bad for the late Mrs. Wyler and for Sam. Having one’s life implode was something she understood.

“That must have been awful for you.”

He nodded and glanced toward the empty kitchen with its large picture window. “My daughter’s here with me. She’s out back. I should probably find her. I told the real estate agent I’d meet her in town at five to sign the papers.”

Sign the papers! Even as Annie’s mind formed the thought, he spoke it out loud.

“We’re scheduled to close escrow tomorrow. I’m the new owner of the Gold Nugget.”

* * *

SAM FOLLOWED ANNIE out onto the porch, only to pause and watch her as she composed herself. He hadn’t thought she’d take the news of him buying the Gold Nugget so hard. The sight of her features crumbling would stay with him always.

He leaned his back against one of the thick columns, giving her space. Like the ranch house and barn, the columns were constructed from indigenous pines harvested when the land was originally cleared. According to the plaque mounted by the entrance, that occurred more than two decades before ground was broken on the Sweetheart Inn.

He should, he realized much too late, have chosen his words more kindly. Annie loved the Gold Nugget almost as much as she did her family’s inn. He’d been surprised to see the ranch listed for sale, assuming she and her mother would have purchased it years ago.

Annie had always been able to trip him up without even trying. A glance, a touch, a softly whispered response and his concentration went out the window.

Nine years, and she still had that effect on him.

Maybe buying the Gold Nugget wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Sam instantly changed his mind. He’d returned to Sweetheart with a purpose, and unintentionally hurting Annie’s feelings wouldn’t stop him from fulfilling it.

“I’d like to see you while I’m here.”

She halted midstep and sent him a look intended to cut him down to size.

“Not a date,” he clarified. “To catch up. And to pick your brain.”

“I have enough on my plate with rebuilding the inn,” she answered tersely. “You can’t expect me to be a part of whatever it is you’ve planned for the ranch.”

“Not just the ranch. The entire town, too, and the people in it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to help, Annie.”

Unaffected by his attempted sincerity, she narrowed her green eyes. “With what?”

“Rebuilding Sweetheart.”

“Is this a joke?”