The Ranch She Left Behind

“Um.” She wasn’t sure what the correct answer was to that. Even Stephanie wasn’t this honest about being bad. Stephanie generally pretended she’d misunderstood the rules, or someone else made her do it. For a fraction of a second, Ellen could see that Alec’s honest civil disobedience had a certain nobility to it. “I guess not.”

He pulled out another candy. “Well, anyhow, maybe you’re really just scared. That’s okay. Everybody’s scared of something. But if you wanted me to, I could pierce them for you sometime.”

Again, she was speechless. Again, even Stephanie...

It suddenly struck Ellen as kind of ironic that her dad had brought her here to get her away from Stephanie’s “bad influence,” and the first person she met was this troublemaker who casually assumed all rules were made to be broken.

“I—” She squeezed the earrings. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t used to being tongue-tied. She always had a comeback. That was why Stephanie had invited her into the group. Stephanie admired people who were chill and sarcastic. “I—”

But then, luckily, she spotted her dad walking toward them across the playground.

“That’s my father,” she said. “I gotta go.”

She moved quickly, hoping she’d meet her dad halfway. She didn’t want him to see Alec. He would be impossible about it. He’d probably say a hundred times, “Isn’t it great that you’ve made a friend already?”

He wouldn’t see that Alec’s being in fourth grade made it impossible for them to be friends.

But after a few yards, she realized it sort of stunk to ditch Alec that way, after he’d been so nice about helping.

She turned. “Thanks ag—”

Alec had already disappeared. She glanced up into the tree, but not a single branch was swaying.

He was just plain gone. She wondered how he did it. He might be only ten, but he was...interesting. Kind of cool. Though not in any way her Chicago friends would understand.

She repeated his name in her head, so she’d remember it. Alec Garwood. Cowboy, wrangler, treasure hunter...and, apparently, ninja.

* * *

BY TEN O’CLOCK, Penny had done everything she could—at least until the furniture arrived in the morning. It had taken her a couple of hours to shoo away the family, and then she’d emptied the car, hung up her clothes, washed the dishes and investigated every closet, cabinet and cupboard the tiny space had to offer.

After that, as darkness settled over Silverdell like indigo watercolor applied with a thick brush, she grew restless.

It had been seventeen years since she’d moved to a new house—and all of a sudden, though she was exhausted, she couldn’t imagine settling down.

The blow-up mattress was ready on the floor, but even with all the extra pillows and blankets Bree and Ro had scattered around, it looked completely uninviting. She’d have to be a lot more tired before she crawled in there.