Ranch At River's End. Brenda Mott

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СКАЧАТЬ “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.

      Leave!

      Angry tears stung her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. No one besides her aunt and uncle knew what Christopher had done—or at least she’d thought so. The local news had covered the story on all channels, but as a minor, Chris’s name had been left out, both on television and in the newspapers.

      But why else would someone paint the word on their garage door?

      Who would be so quick to judge her and her son with such hatred? Her landlord would be livid. And here she’d always thought of the little Colorado mountain town of River’s End as peaceful, welcoming.

      “Holy crap!” Christopher exclaimed. His face clouded over. “I told you we shouldn’t have moved here.”

      Darci only shook her head. She went inside the house and put her cowboy hat on the closet shelf, then changed into a faded old shirt before going back outside. She entered the garage via the side door and rummaged through some boxes she hadn’t yet unpacked, Chris tagging at her heels. Tears stung her eyes. She would not let some stranger’s horrible actions get to her.

      “Paint thinner, paint thinner…” she mumbled. Had to be here with the other odds and ends she’d brought with her for household repairs. There.

      Darci lifted the container from the box, along with some clean rags and a pair of rubber gloves. She’d have to make a trip to the hardware store and get a can of matching yellow paint to completely obliterate the word. Suddenly she felt angry, and that anger was directed at Christopher.

      Her own child had made her life a living hell, and she’d had enough. Every penny of her small nest egg was meant to carry her and Chris along until she had a steady paycheck coming in. And now because of her son’s stupid actions and some hateful vandal, she had to waste money on paint for what had been a perfectly fine garage door just this morning. Who had had the nerve to do this in broad daylight anyway?

      Biting her lip to keep her tears and frustration at bay, Darci tossed the rag at her son. “Here. Clean that off.”

      “Why do I have to clean it?”

      “Maybe because you’re the reason for it,” Darci snapped, then took a deep breath at the stricken look on her son’s face. “Chris, I’m sorry. Christopher!” But he was already pushing his way through the screen door to the house, letting it slam behind him. “Chris!”

      He ignored her. Since his father had left a year ago, Christopher had changed from a quiet boy who loved to read, hike and skateboard to a troublesome young man Darci barely recognized as the child she’d given birth to. These past couple of days, he’d seemed more like his old self again, settling in to their new home better than she’d hoped—or so she’d thought.

      Silently, Darci berated herself for directing her anger at him. He was still her son. She got to work with the rag and paint thinner. To her surprise, Christopher came back outside with a larger rag in his hand.

      “I’m sorry, Chris,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I just can’t believe trouble has followed us here so fast.”

      “It’ll never stop,” Chris said, his face nearly as red as the paint he viciously scrubbed. “I made one dumb mistake, and now—”

      “It will stop,” Darci said. It had to, or she’d lose her mind. “We have to believe that. It’s just going to take a little time.”

      He grunted. “I doubt that.” He indicated the smeared graffiti. “No one wants us here. We could move to China and everybody would still hate me.”

      “No one hates you,” Darci said, wishing she could believe her own words. For one moment, Christopher looked like the little boy she used to cradle in her lap when he skinned his elbow riding his bicycle. “People are afraid of what they don’t understand, and sometimes they react in inappropriate ways.”

      “Now you sound like Dr. Kingsley.” That was Chris’s psychologist in Northglenn, who’d referred them to Nina Drake.

      “Hey, don’t forget you’ve got me. And Aunt Stella and Uncle Leon.” Darci’s father had left her mother when Darci was a child, and her mother hadn’t been a very good grandmother to Christopher. But then, she lived in California and mostly only saw him on the occasional holiday. Likewise, his father’s parents were too busy with their fishing business for Chris. “Now come on, let’s not let some jerk spoil our weekend.”

      Darci worked beside the son she loved, no matter what he’d done. She hated having to uproot him from everything familiar. From the place where he’d lived most of his life…from the people he knew…

      The move hadn’t been any easier on her than it had on him. But what choice did she have?

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