The Rancher Next Door

He wrinkled his nose. “Then you’ll get all scabby and gross and everyone will run when they see you.” He gave a little shake of the seat. “Come on, Katie. Both my sisters can ride, and they’re younger than you.”

She stiffened at the challenge in his voice. But when she glanced at him, she didn’t see anything mean in his expression. His too-long hair tumbled over his forehead, and his dark eyes were bright with humor. Except for seeing him in school, she’d never been this close to Jack before. Her dad always said mean things about the Darby family, but from what she could tell, Jack was sorta nice.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she admitted in a small voice, then tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. Summer in Lone Star Canyon was hot, so they were both in shorts, but Jack’s knees were smooth and tanned—not a single scab in sight.

Jack grabbed the handlebar. He kept his other hand firmly at the base of the seat. “Go on and sit down. Put your feet on the pedals. I won’t let you fall. You gotta get a feel for the bike and find your balance. Once you have that, riding is easy.”

She did as he said. He walked her around while she wobbled and tried to pedal. He was close enough for her to realize that he didn’t smell bad, even though her dad said that Darbys were dirt.

Suddenly Jack gave her a little push. She yelped and nearly lost her balance, but then she was moving forward and actually riding a bike!

“I can do it!” she yelled at him.

An hour later they still rode together. Katie wasn’t as fast as Jack, but he rarely went ahead and he always picked easy routes for her to follow. The buildings of town flashed by as they raced to the end of Mason Street, then turned right. The rear wheel started to slip on some loose dirt, but Jack had already taught her how to compensate for that.

“Not bad for a girl,” he called, his voice approving. “You’re so little that if you were a fish, I’d have to throw you back, but you do okay.”

She laughed at both Jack and the world. Being on a bike was a freedom she’d never experienced before. “This summer I’m not staying inside,” she swore to them both. “I’m gonna play and have fun and—”

“Gotcha!”

Four boys materialized from between Carter’s auto parts store and the alley. Three of them grabbed Jack and his bike while the fourth—thirteen-year-old David Fitzgerald—hauled Katie off his bright red bike and set her roughly on the ground.

“You stole my bike,” David accused his sister.

Katie nearly fell to her knees, but she quickly regained her balance. “Did not. I borrowed it. I wanted to learn to ride and I couldn’t do that at the ranch.”

She stared pleadingly at the older brother who had always been so good to her. But as she took in his angry face and balled fists, she remembered that he was only kind in private. In front of his friends, he teased and tormented with no thought for her feelings.

The three remaining boys—all friends of David’s—held Jack’s arms. He tried to squirm away but couldn’t break their hold. Not only was he outnumbered, but the boys were two years older than him and bigger.

Instantly Katie saw what was going to happen. She ran to her brother and grabbed his shirtsleeve. “David, no. You can’t hurt him. He was being nice to me. He taught me how to ride a bike.”

“No Darby messes with my sister,” David said.

All the scrapes and blood hadn’t made her cry, but the sight of her new friend pinned and helpless brought tears to her eyes. “You’re a coward,” she yelled at her brother as he approached Jack. “Four against one? You can’t win a fair fight so you’re gonna be a bully?”

David turned on her. “Shut up or you’re next.”

She thrust out her chin. “I’m not scared of you, David Fitzgerald. Besides, if you’re going to beat up someone who’s held down by your friends, then of course you’re going to beat up a little girl. Dad’ll be real proud.”

Doubt flickered in David’s blue eyes. Then his gaze narrowed. “Let ’em go,” he ordered his friends.

They reluctantly did as he said.

“Run!” Katie screamed to Jack, but no one was listening.

As soon as Jack was free, David attacked. Jack came back swinging, but the other three boys joined in. Katie cried out. It only took her a couple of seconds to realize that Jack was going to get slaughtered. She dove into the pile of fists and elbows, grabbing hair where she could, biting, kicking and generally trying to help her new friend.

A sharp blow landed on the side of her head. Katie saw stars, then nothing at all. The hard ground rushed up to meet her.

The next thing she heard was her father’s voice. Finally, she thought hazily. Jack would be safe. But when she managed to open her eyes, she saw her father shaking Jack like a dog.

“Dad, no,” she yelled. “Jack didn’t start it, David did.”

Her father let go of Jack, then glared at the boy. “I don’t care who started it. The fight is finished now. You go on and get out of here. No Darby is going to mess with my family.”

Katie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Didn’t her father understand? “Daddy, he helped me. I can ride a bike now and everything.”

Jack straightened. Blood poured from his mouth and nose. Swelling nearly shut his left eye, and his hands were battered. His once clean T-shirt was smudged with dirt and torn off one shoulder. Katie was pleased to see the four older boys looked almost as bad. Her body felt sore, and she realized she could barely see out of one eye.

Her father glared at her. “Stealing your brother’s bike, riding around town with the likes of him and fighting. What is your mother going to say?”

Katie didn’t want to answer that. She forced herself to her feet. “I’m sorry, Jack,” she called as the boy limped away.

“Don’t speak to him,” her father ordered. “Darbys are dirt.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “They’re not. Jack’s my friend.”

Right there on the sidewalk, in front of David and his friends, worse, in front of Jack, her father slapped her across the face. It wasn’t a strong blow, but it stung all the same. Humiliation darkened her soul.

“We don’t bother with their kind,” her father growled. “You remember that, missy. You hear me?”

But she didn’t answer. Instead she stared after Jack and vowed that somehow, some way, she would make it up to him. Even if it took forever.

Chapter One

Nineteen years later

Jack Darby rounded the corner in time to see four large boys go after a small skinny kid. The little guy—pale, in glasses and throwing punches like a girl—stood about as much chance against his assailants as a kitten did against a wolf pack.

Some things never change, Jack thought, remembering all the fights he’d gotten in when he’d been a kid. Even so, the little guy was outnumbered and ill-equipped. Jack hurried toward the huddle.

“That’s enough,” he yelled, just as the little guy dropped to one knee.

The four bullies glanced up, saw him, then took off for the main street. Jack reached the kid still crouched on the sidewalk.

“You okay?” he asked the boy. He bent over, half-expecting blood and tears. What he got instead was a big grin.

“Did you see?” the skinny boy asked with obvious pride. “I got two of ’em. I hit one in the face.”

The boy stood and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Blood dripped from a cut on his lip, but the kid didn’t seem to notice.

Jack knew that any blows the boy had landed had been glancing, at best, but decided not to say that. No point in spoiling the moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “Here.”

The boy stared at it. “I’m bleeding?” His voice sounded both delighted and hopeful.

“You cut your lip.”