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  “Maybe you’re trying too hard to please Olivia.” Elizabeth smiled. “She can be...difficult. I was afraid of her myself years ago when we were in school. Olivia has her standards—though not as rigid as my mother’s. And thank goodness, she’s mellowed over time, especially since she married Sawyer and had a second child. You wouldn’t believe how overly protective she was of her older boy.” The aforementioned Nick, a friend of Jordan’s.

  Becca said, “Your mom is tough like Olivia?”

  Elizabeth touched her hand. “Yes, and I’m obviously older than you. Thirty-three.”

  “I’m twenty-three.”

  “I shouldn’t offer advice, but try to believe you can make it here, and that attitude could change everything. Goodness, I might be talking to myself.” She paused, not wanting to belabor the subject. “Olivia mentioned that you have a boyfriend.”

  Becca’s gaze turned softer. “He’s the greatest, but my dad doesn’t like him.”

  Elizabeth didn’t want to pry. She wasn’t here to become anyone’s counselor, yet Becca’s apparent vulnerability spoke to her as if it were her own. When Becca toyed with her spoon and remained silent, Elizabeth finished her own tea then started to stand. “I hope your boyfriend wins him over. We should both get back to work.”

  Becca dropped the spoon. The words burst from her, and her chin quivered. “Calvin...has a record. He and two of his friends stole some cattle. The judge may send one of them to prison, but he gave Calvin community service, and he has a job now.”

  Elizabeth sank back onto her chair. There were few people in town who didn’t know his story. “You mean Calvin Stern?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Isn’t he the cutest thing?”

  He might be adorable, but there was more to any relationship than that. Elizabeth ought to know. She had a handsome ex-husband, and she’d certainly made a mistake with Dallas, not that they had any sort of relationship. Becca seemed immature. Perhaps, beyond befriending her at work, Elizabeth might do a bit of counseling after all.

  * * *

  SOON AFTER HER talk with Elizabeth, Becca drove home, but to her surprise, her father wasn’t out in the fields. Their farm was nowhere near as big as the Circle H, for instance, and he still worked it himself, but he must have finished his chores. She found him in the garden, gloves on, spraying the roses. For years, her mother had nurtured them, but since last fall he’d taken over the task.

  Becca fretted about him. Poor Daddy, kneeling as if to pray for a different outcome to his life rather than the loss of the woman he loved. She slipped up behind him, wrapped her arms around his too-thin frame, then kissed the top of his head. His hair was the same flaxen blond as her own.

  He turned to her and beamed, as he did whenever he saw her. The apple of his eye, he always said. “You’re home early.”

  “Olivia didn’t need me.” Becca had thrown out those papers by mistake, thinking they were duplicates of charge slips, but instead they’d been store copies. She’d left Olivia, just back from lunch, red-faced with anger. “I thought I’d spend the afternoon with you. Need help with the flowers?”

  She knew better. He wouldn’t let anyone else care for them. They were like children, spoiled with attention, but that didn’t surprise Becca. As his daughter, she received similar devotion. If only her mother hadn’t gotten sick, but now it was only Becca and her dad. That hadn’t been a problem in itself until a few months ago.

  “I’m fine, baby.” He rose, knees popping. He’d always been a big man but looked as if he’d lost height while she was in town. “How was work?”

  “Fine. Great. Olivia says I’m learning more every day.” Olivia had said no such thing. “Let’s make lunch. I haven’t eaten.”

  Mentally, she crossed her fingers about her job. Becca didn’t want to let her father down. He worked so hard to provide for them, even when she guessed he’d rather spend his days in bed with the covers over his head. Sometimes the sadness in his eyes made her want to cry. Yet she’d rarely seen him shed a tear. He held his grief inside, so as not to upset her.

  In the kitchen, Becca spread mayonnaise on their bread, then tore freshly washed Bibb lettuce from the garden into pieces. “The corn’s already up to the fences,” she said, watching her father turn bacon in the skillet. “Maybe we can sell some here, open the farm stand again this summer. These tomatoes would be awesome too, Daddy. What do you think?”

  “I don’t have time to work the stand. Neither do you.”

  If she didn’t start doing better at Olivia’s, she might have all the time they needed. She’d try to take Elizabeth’s advice, but still felt she was in over her head. She liked Elizabeth, though.

  Her father drained the bacon, then set a plate of it on the counter. Becca assembled their sandwiches, added fruit she’d cut for breakfast and poured tall glasses of milk. At the table, she tried another topic, hoping to make him happy. Her daily assignment. “Did you answer that lady’s message? She sounded nice.”

  He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed, then pushed the BLT aside. “Becca, doesn’t matter if she’s nice or a raving lunatic. You should never have signed me up on that website. I don’t need a date—or a second chance. No, I didn’t answer and I’m not going to. Now eat.”

  The firm note in his voice ended that discussion. Well, she’d tried. Maybe in a few weeks, another month, he’d change his mind. The thought of his being lonely made her feel like a traitor. It wasn’t right for him to spend so much of his time alone. Always, her father had had Mom waiting when he came in after evening chores. Her dad would smile, bend his head to kiss her mother’s neck and the two of them would laugh, looking into each other’s eyes with all that love they’d shared. The kind she wanted for herself. Becca couldn’t wait to get out of the house to see Calvin tonight.

  She said with a familiar lump in her throat, “Think about it, Daddy. Really, you need someone, maybe not right now, but Mom would want you to be happy.”

  A line appeared between his brows. “Becca. I was happy. Nothing can take that away from me. I don’t need anyone new. That would be sacrilege to your mother’s memory.”

  She disagreed but didn’t say more. Her main goal was simply not to add to his sorrow.

  Her dad took a slice of apple from his plate, then stood. One slice, when he used to eat several apples at once, would have had two sandwiches and another glass of milk. “Back to work now. I need to spread manure on the east pasture squash and melons.”

  Becca wished they ran cattle like her friend Willow’s family did. In her view the crops took too much care and effort, sapping what little energy her dad seemed to have. Couldn’t cows take care of themselves? Even the roses required work.

  “I’ll thaw steaks for dinner. How does that sound?” Becca wanted to eat early and felt a small thrill of anticipation then guilt. “Five thirty today?” Usually they ate after seven or even after dark, whenever he finished evening chores. His gaze homed in on her, his mouth set. She shouldn’t have said that.

  “You going somewhere tonight?” He knew Willow was away on vacation with her family.

  “Um, I thought I’d see a movie in town.”

  He also knew what that meant. “You mean with Calvin Stern? Didn’t I make myself clear? A boy with his history, no family I’ve heard of...not to mention the company he keeps.”

  “Kept,” she murmured. “He has an uncle in Farrier. Fred Miller. You know him, don’t you? Calvin doesn’t see those other guys anymore.”

  “Yeah, well, people may say his pal Derek Moran’s a reformed sinner, but what about Cody Jones? He’s still awaiting trial. He’ll soon be in prison, Becca, where they all belong. They’re a bad bunch.” He took a breath. “I’m telling you again to break it off with Stern. He’s not welcome on this property and he’s sure not going to take my little girl away from me.”

  Becca wanted to curl up in a ball. T
his had been the worst day, except for meeting Elizabeth, who might make life easier for her with Olivia. Tonight’s movie wasn’t going to happen. She’d have to call Calvin and tell him their date was off. She didn’t dare mention to her father the fact that she wanted to move in with him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “MOM, I’M BORRRED.”

  Elizabeth’s daily phone reports from Colorado had changed like the weather, and this latest seemed to be another omen. Outside her windows the Kansas sky had darkened, thick leaden clouds closing in, followed by the occasional rumble of thunder. Seth’s homesickness was still there, but this morning it was Jordan who was verbally pouting in her ear.

  “There’s nothing wrong with feeling bored now and then,” she said. “That’s part of life. You have to learn to entertain yourself.” After her first few days on the job, her talk with Becca Carter remained in her mind if not at its center just now. She didn’t want her oldest son to reach his twenties without feeling better grounded in himself. Watching Becca fumble her way through her days at work could be painful enough.

  “Dad spends too much time on his computer,” Jordan was saying. “Yesterday he dropped us at the kids’ club for the whole afternoon. I’m too old for that silly stuff, Mom. I don’t need a sitter. All we did was make lanyards out of beads and string—a baby thing, like, for Seth,” he added. “I wanted to go canoeing.”

  “Jordan.” He couldn’t be serious about boating on his own.

  “Then Dad ordered room service for dinner and while we were eating, he holed up in his own place—he has the upper floor—and we watched movies. Do you know how many times I’ve seen Paddington? It’s Seth’s favorite but not mine! And Stella? She still likes Frozen, the first one, so we had to watch that too. Dad won’t let us see The Avengers because Seth might get scared.” He groaned aloud in frustration. “There’s nothing for me to do here.”

  Make that two out of three. Only Stella, her middle one, hadn’t complained. Elizabeth stifled a yawn. She couldn’t seem to wake up, and her energy level was down. What would happen once the kids came home with school activities to fit into the schedule? Plus, her job? “I’m sorry to hear all this. Your father doesn’t get much time with you during the year, and now—”

  “We don’t even see him!”

  Elizabeth would address that later. Surely Jordan was exaggerating. Lightning flashed, illuminating the backyard, with another grumble of thunder. The storm would break soon and right overhead. This time she couldn’t hold back the yawn. “I hear you, honey, and I wish you were having a better time. Have you started your summer reading? You have three book reports to do before school starts. Make use of the time when you’re not on some outing with your dad.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? We don’t have outings. He says there’s the whole resort to run around in, the great outdoors, and Seth shouldn’t worry about the bears—”

  Elizabeth’s throat seized. “Bears?”

  “Not grizzlies, black bears,” Jordan explained as if that made a difference. “We didn’t see any. I could be home, Mom.” He paused, and Elizabeth could hear a sly note enter his voice. “I could rodeo with Nick and the other kids on Saturdays. Wouldn’t that be safer?”

  Elizabeth didn’t think so. She remembered watching rodeo on TV with Dallas, seeing the cowboy who’d flown off the bull onto the dirt. For a few too-long seconds, he hadn’t stirred or gotten up. Even the kids’ event each weekend made her shudder.

  Jordan’s voice gained strength. “Nick’s already riding. Why can’t I? He’ll be better than me while I’m wasting my summer here.” His best friend did have an advantage. Nick was Logan and Olivia’s son. His parents were also divorced, and Nick divided his time between the Circle H with his dad, Logan Hunter, and Wilson Cattle, where Olivia, who’d married Logan’s twin brother, Sawyer, lived. Nick was a real ranch kid, twice over, when Jordan only dreamed of such a life. Elizabeth suppressed a flash of guilt. Frankly, she’d been almost relieved when he left home with Harry and was no longer around Dallas. She didn’t want the cowboy to become her son’s idol.

  Elizabeth yawned. “Put your father on.” And Jordan went off to find him. Most of her conversations with the children ended with another quarrel between Elizabeth and Harry. What was he doing on the computer when he should be bonding with their kids?

  Jordan returned. “He says don’t bother him. He’s busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Finding a new job, he says.” She could imagine Jordan’s shrug. Elizabeth barely had the energy to deal with Harry herself.

  “Please tell him I need to speak to him. Now.” When he finally picked up the phone, she spoke through gritted teeth. “Your job at the moment is taking care of three minor children. We’ve talked about this before. Jordan, Stella and Seth need your full attention.”

  “I’ve tried, Elizabeth. Have you ever taken them to the Buffalo Bill Museum? No,” he said. “The gondola ride up the mountain? An evening powwow by a campfire with Native American dancing?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Well, I have. I’ve busted my...” He took a breath as if to calm himself. “None of that was more successful than our miniature golf adventure or swimming in this resort’s Olympic-sized pool.” He scoffed. “With Jordan, there’s always something wrong.”

  “Yes.” He was angry with his father. “What’s the common denominator?”

  “Three spoiled kids,” Harry said.

  “No, it’s you. I don’t want them to be spoiled, but instead of firing off résumés—”

  “You’d better hope I find a new job or there won’t be any support payments coming your way. What will you do then?”

  “Don’t threaten me, Harry. I’ve already found a job myself. Just live up to your obligations, preferably with a smile on your face.” As the storm broke outside, Elizabeth felt the beginnings of a headache. What is happening to my children? She’d never felt this worn-out or utterly helpless. What can I possibly do to make things better for them from so far away?

  * * *

  AT THE FAIRGROUNDS on the edge of Barren, Dallas surveyed the abandoned site surrounded by a rusted chain-link fence. Logan and Sawyer had been right. There wasn’t enough money in this world, or enough time, to make the fairgrounds suitable for a rodeo this summer. His usual positive outlook took a nosedive. He could have saved himself the effort to see the place. A permit was the least of his problems.

  He glanced at the falling-down grandstand. So, now what?

  “I’ve got a bunch of riders with no place to ride.”

  “Broaden your horizons.” Finn Donovan, the county sheriff, shifted from one booted foot to the other. As usual, he wore jeans and a Western-style shirt instead of a uniform. Finn preferred a more casual approach. He liked to fit in with the community, not to play up his position of authority. “The rodeo’s a good idea, Dallas. With a charity aspect, even better. This town needs something to get people excited again. There’s been a dark cloud hanging over Main Street ever since Harry Barnes resigned as mayor.” Finn pulled off his trademark aviator sunglasses to reveal earnest hazel eyes. “I’m glad he’s away this summer. His family went through a bad time last year. His three kids were confused, as was Emmie. His love child, some of the older residents call her.” Finn half smiled. “I just call her my daughter.

  “Nobody gets to that kid,” he added with a proud grin. He and his wife, Annabelle, were now Emmie’s adoptive parents, and Harry Barnes had given up any claim to her. Dallas figured she’d lucked out, like him with the Maguires.

  He walked with Finn across the dusty fairgrounds, which contained more ruts than even ground. “My brother tells me Emmie couldn’t have a better home than she does with you and Annabelle. At least some good came of all that.”

  Finn frowned. “I wish I could say the same for Elizabeth. I know Annabelle worries about her,” he said. “Having to see Harry all over town again thi
s fall, the walking reminder that her marriage went down the tubes...” He didn’t go on.

  And not to call attention to himself, Dallas didn’t respond. The day of her divorce he’d only made things worse for her. Fortunately, as far as he knew, no one else had learned about that.

  “You’re living next door, aren’t you?” Finn asked. “In the Whittaker house?”

  “Yep. I don’t see much of Liz—Elizabeth. Not that I need to,” Dallas added.

  Finn’s gaze sharpened. He’d obviously noticed the near slip of her nickname, as if she and Dallas were more than neighbors.

  The sheriff studied him. “Elizabeth could use some kindness. There are people in this town who’ve been showing their dark sides. Calling her names like Ms. Perfect, hoping she’ll give them something more to talk about when she hasn’t done anything. She doesn’t deserve to take any blame for what Harry did.”

  Dallas couldn’t agree more. “She seems like a fine person.” Not that she needed his endorsement.

  He was still thinking about that when he reached the Sutherland ranch, his next stop. He didn’t know Cooper Ransom, who’d been Finn’s partner in the Chicago PD before they both ended up in Barren, and he’d never met his wife, though he knew her reputation. But Nell, the granddaughter of the NLS’s owner, didn’t seem like the tough cowgirl he’d expected. When Dallas pulled up in his truck, he found her draped around Cooper by the outdoor arena, arms looped around his neck, sharing a kiss that Dallas probably wasn’t supposed to see, and which made him squirm.

  Cooper broke the kiss, then stared at him as if Dallas wasn’t quite of this world. After a long moment, his gray eyes cleared. “We’re still on our honeymoon,” he said. “And you are...?”

  Dallas introduced himself. “Hadley gave me some local ranchers’ names. Thought I’d see if you have interest in a rodeo I’m planning.” He briefly explained, then added, “I thought getting a permit to use the old fairgrounds would be a hurdle, but turns out I need to look for another venue instead. Once I find that...”