High Country Homecoming. Roxanne Rustand

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СКАЧАТЬ past where it belonged. In the past.

      He eyed her curiously. “What was your major?”

      Mom had declared she was foolish to chase dreams that might never come true. When her own mother didn’t believe in her, was it ridiculous to think she could ever succeed? Would Devlin laugh if she told him about what she was doing?

      “My major was Creative Writing,” she said. “That’s why I wanted to come out here. I wanted a peaceful, beautiful place to stay, where I could concentrate on my writing with no interruptions. Since I have such happy memories of Montana, this ranch seemed perfect.”

      “And then where will you go?”

      That was the hard part. Knowing Chloe’s situation, her sister had offered her a generous salary, and a chance for a fresh start. Far too generous an offer to refuse. But the thought of her future weighed on her shoulders like a mantle of iron.

      She might not ever make much money with her writing, so she could hardly afford to turn down Jane’s offer, considering her legal debts. But it was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’ve got a property-management job waiting for me in Kansas City.”

      He regarded her for a long moment. “You don’t exactly look thrilled about it.”

      “It will be a blessing,” she said firmly. “I’ll need a job as soon as I leave. But until then, I will count myself fortunate to stay here once again.”

      He seemed to consider that for a while, then sighed. “I expect Betty will be happy to see you.”

      Chloe couldn’t help but smile at his less-than-gracious attitude. “I can’t wait to see her, either. After my mom took off, I used to pretend that she was my grandma. She still sends me birthday cards with invitations to come visit, but this is my first time back. When will the family be home?”

      He was bent over the dead bolt on the door, checking it out. He didn’t answer.

      He’d ignored some of her questions, and twice he hadn’t responded when she called out his name. She’d figured he was just being his usual distant self.

      But now she wondered. Devlin had been physically wounded and probably had deeper, more-emotional wounds, as well. Who wouldn’t with all of the dangers he’d probably faced in battle?

      Had he also ended up with hearing damage due to his military career?

      It was entirely plausible, but prying personal information from him had always been a futile task. She waited until he looked up again. “When will the rest of your family be back?”

      “A week from tomorrow.”

      Sure enough, now she could see that he wasn’t just listening; he was trying to watch her speak. “Aren’t the twins in school?”

      “Kindergarten, but they’re on spring break.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a fleeting, affectionate grin at the mention of the little girls. “They seemed pretty excited about Disneyland.”

      “I can believe it. They’ll sure have a lot of days with Mickey.”

      Devlin shrugged. “Not all of that time. They’re visiting their mom in San Diego, Jess is looking at some stallion prospects and Abby will be checking out a few colleges.”

      “Who is Abby?”

      “She was hired as a nanny last fall, and now she and Jess are engaged.”

      “But she’s looking at colleges, so she’s leaving?”

      “Considering online programs, I guess.”

      “Good for her.” Chloe slid a knife through the shipping tape on the top of a cardboard box labeled Kitchenware and inspected the contents. Books.

      She straightened and rested a hand at the small of her back. “You’ll have eight busy days ’til they get back, then. Are there ranch hands to do the chores?”

      “Nope. I told Jess I could do it. Might as well earn my keep while I’m here.” He touched the brim of his Stetson and gave her a slight nod of farewell, then turned for the door. “‘Night.”

      She’d already seen how he favored his weak right arm and shoulder, while handling that heavy pan of ham and scalloped potatoes. And when she’d heard the sound of gunfire down in the shooting range this afternoon, she’d walked up the hill and briefly watched him struggle to hit the targets.

      At sixteen he wouldn’t have missed a single shot. But even from the top of the hill, she’d seen his rifle barrel wobble. Not wanting to embarrass him, she’d slipped away before he noticed she was there, but the problem was clear enough. How was he was going to manage doing chores?

      Maybe he wasn’t warm and friendly, and he certainly wouldn’t ever be a pal. But she just couldn’t ignore someone in need, even if he wished she would disappear.

      “Hey, Devlin—if you need any help, just holler,” she called out. “You’ve got my cell number, now.”

      He didn’t respond.

      She stared at the door closing behind him, feeling an old, familiar wave of compassion and frustration.

      He hadn’t wanted help or sympathy years ago, and he clearly didn’t want it now. Which was fine. She already had a lot on her plate without trying to get past his prickly defenses.

      Still, a warm sense of hope and purpose spread through her. She’d volunteered at the local no-kill animal shelter over the past few years and had rehabbed many foster animals in her little rental house. Wounded birds. Abused dogs. Feral cats. With love and care, she’d been able to send all of them back to the shelter when they were ready to find good forever homes.

      Granted, a man like Devlin was a lot more complex than, say, a Corgi, but could she help him?

      As a cheerleader and a compassionate listener, maybe she could tactfully help him somehow...or push him to find the services and support he needed. If only he would let her.

      She re-taped the box she’d just opened, set it aside and sliced the shipping tape on a box marked Linens. This one was stuffed with sweaters. She sat back in her heels with a sigh.

      Obviously her hasty departure from Minneapolis hadn’t been conducive to good organization, but she’d been so careful otherwise.

      She’d avoided mentioning her moving plans to the few friends she had left. Canceled her newspaper and magazine subscriptions. Switched her bills to online payments. And then she’d arranged a three-month disappearance at a private Montana ranch, where she would pay for everything in cash.

      Escaping that one persistent reporter—who had continued to paint her in his series of articles as a greedy, conniving Jezebel angling for a wealthy, married man—had been her first priority, and speed had been her greater concern.

      Even after she’d been exonerated, the reporter had refused to let the story go. Since then she had applied for several jobs. Every time, the interviewer had looked at her name, then looked up at her face with dawning recognition. And that job possibility had ended.

      But СКАЧАТЬ