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Last Chance Cowboy
Leigh Riker
Why couldn't Shadow have stayed away?Rancher Grey Wilson has fought hard to rebuild his life in the ten years since that horrible night she left, the night their love, their families, their whole town was torn apart by tragedy. And he’s almost succeeded. But now that Shadow Moran is back in Barren, everything seems to be going wrong. The family ranch his father entrusted to him is struggling. Worse, Shadow still blames him for what happened that night, and Grey's starting to have his own doubts about his innocence. Then Shadow reveals a secret that shakes him to his core…


Why couldn’t Shadow have stayed away?
Rancher Grey Wilson has fought hard to rebuild his life in the ten years since that horrible night she left, the night their love, their families, their whole town was torn apart by tragedy. And he’s almost succeeded. But now that Shadow Moran is back in Barren, everything seems to be going wrong. The family ranch his father entrusted to him is struggling. Worse, Shadow still blames him for what happened that night, and Grey’s starting to have his own doubts about his innocence. Then Shadow reveals a secret that shakes him to his core...
“Because of you, my brother will never have a ranch or anything else to lose.”
Shadow blinked back sudden tears. She hadn’t cried since she was seventeen. She wouldn’t cry now.
People in the diner were openly staring. She and Grey were clearly the stars of the town’s reality show. Their waitress came to take their orders, but Grey waved her off. He waited until they were alone again. “I didn’t...kill him, Shadow. You either believe me or you don’t, which you obviously still don’t.”
“Neither does anyone else.”
“If I had any way to prove myself to them, to you, I would.” He paused, eyeing her with those sharp blue-green eyes. “Come on,” he said. “You and I were a couple once. We even picked out baby names.”
Shadow knew she’d just turned pale.
“Why did you come in here today?” Grey asked. “I doubt it was to have lunch with me.”
“I—” She caught the pointed gaze of a woman in the booth across the aisle. “I have something to tell you. It’s important.”
“Fine. Let’s take this outside.”
Yet how would she find the words to tell him after all these years?
Dear Reader (#u995d0323-f33c-51bf-a6be-3f279ccd2c50),
For Shadow Moran and Grey Wilson, the course of true love hasn’t exactly run smooth. But does it ever? My own relationship had some ups and downs before we knew we were exactly right for each other. And many years later, we still are. Of course, we never had the kind of issues to deal with that my hero and heroine do.
Ten years ago, after a tragic accident, Shadow and Grey’s relationship ended abruptly. Now she’s back in their hometown of Barren, Kansas. Grey still loves her, but he already has his hands full trying to save his family’s ranch from modern-day rustlers and seeking evidence to prove he’s innocent in the long-ago death of Shadow’s brother. Without that proof, she will never forgive him.
But when Grey learns he and Shadow have a nine-year-old daughter, things take yet another turn—and love for them seems even more impossible than it was before.
I’ve always loved reunion stories. I’m also partial to secret-baby books, and Last Chance Cowboy has both! If you haven’t read the first Kansas Cowboys book about Blossom Kennedy and Logan Hunter, you can find a coupon in this book for The Reluctant Rancher. And then please join me again for the third book in this series—coming soon!—in which Logan’s estranged brother, Sawyer, returns home to fall in love all over again with Olivia Wilson, Grey’s sister.
See what I mean about reunion stories?
If you’d like to learn more about my books, please visit my website, leighriker.com (http://www.leighriker.com), and sign up for my newsletter there.
Happy reading!
Leigh Riker
Last Chance Cowboy
Leigh Riker


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LEIGH RIKER, like many dedicated readers, grew up with her nose in a book. This award-winning, USA TODAY bestselling author still can’t imagine a better way to spend her time than to curl up with a good romance novel—unless it’s to write one! She’s a member of the Authors Guild, Novelists, Inc. and Romance Writers of America. When not writing, she’s either in the garden, watching movies funny and sad, or traveling (for research purposes, of course). With added “help” from her mischievous cat, Daisy, she’s now at home working on a new novel. She loves to hear from readers. You can find Leigh on her website, leighriker.com (http://www.leighriker.com), on Facebook at leighrikerauthor (https://www.facebook.com/LeighRikerAuthor) and on Twitter, @lbrwriter (https://twitter.com/lbrwriter).
With love for Linda and Kim, Who are the daughters I always wanted (My boys chose well!)
Contents
Cover (#u52dd99ab-cea5-50f8-9e35-eb3b63e0e64a)
Back Cover Text (#ub82cacef-6eff-5e89-bb6f-6a3e4d579018)
Introduction (#u1bc8b099-35ac-510d-ad25-940028e2513b)
Dear Reader (#udb786065-0d5e-587a-a110-ecd908fef699)
Title Page (#u71424225-1b84-524c-9f3b-962ab43af9df)
About the Author (#ue4a8fada-2610-50de-a24e-6ec73dfbdd88)
Dedication (#u1946c67f-e1be-5702-aa6e-da99b1115875)
CHAPTER ONE (#u15977efa-f807-555e-a822-9ad3d49622e7)
CHAPTER TWO (#u37c3a3e0-91c0-5953-8ef9-efbcc024b412)
CHAPTER THREE (#u04eaffc7-a6a4-5cd5-a645-a10f68cb6fce)
CHAPTER FOUR (#uc159b00d-3c43-5133-9e12-8313e804f1d7)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u723c867a-d759-515f-8209-8a2c5dcf09dd)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u995d0323-f33c-51bf-a6be-3f279ccd2c50)
GREY WILSON WAS a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
On what should have been a peaceful late morning in June, Shadow Moran peered out her office windows onto Main Street and felt another prickle of unease slide across her shoulder blades. She’d been having the same feelings for the past hour—no, since the night before—and for good reason. She had no doubts. As if she’d conjured him up after her midnight ruminations, Grey must be somewhere nearby.
In the past year, since her return to Barren and the Kansas plains where they’d grown up, she’d had an almost daily sense of him, even when he couldn’t be seen. She’d been avoiding him, but she couldn’t avoid him any longer. She’d made her decision just before dawn, and it was more than time. Ten years, in fact.
Now she just needed the courage to implement this first part of her plan at last.
After another quick scan of the area, Shadow spied him on the other side of the street. Sure enough, he’d just come out of the Cattlemen’s Bank, the door swinging shut behind him. In spite of her decision and eternal misgivings, something deep inside her turned over. She should mind her own business. Literally. Her Mother Comfort Home Health Care Agency was still like a baby that had to be nurtured and fed and cared for 24/7.
Still, she turned from the window, then right back again.
Shadow watched Grey walk along the street then enter Annabelle’s Diner before she scooted her desk chair back. Her stomach clenched with nerves, she flipped the Closed sign around on the door, locked it, then went across the street and down two blocks to the fifties-style diner at the corner of Main and Cottonwood.
At noon the place was already jumping.
Shadow halted just inside the door, taking in the swathes of chrome and Formica at the front counter and on the tables. They were all filled. Several people glanced at her before their curious gazes flicked away.
Frowning, Grey sat alone in the only four-person booth that might otherwise be empty, his long legs stretched out into the aisle as he studied his shined-up boots. His ever-present black Stetson was slung on a hook at the end of the booth. Ever the cowboy gentleman, he’d probably removed the hat as soon as he’d stepped inside.
As if he could sense her presence, too, he looked up and their gazes locked. In those ten years apart he’d only gotten more attractive, turned from a boy into a man in his prime. His glossy, light-brown hair still had sun streaks from the long hours he spent outdoors. His eyes were the same blue-green with dark lashes that she remembered. His broad shoulders strained the fabric of his coming-to-town, Western-style suit, but denim and leather were more his style, and Shadow detected a grim set to his mouth. Like his defeated posture, the suit looked all wrong.
Despite their differences, Shadow knew him well. She didn’t bother to say hello or wait for an invitation to sit down. She slid into the seat opposite him. Along with the old gossip she’d stirred up as soon as she hit town, she’d been hearing fresh rumors for weeks about his financial troubles with Wilson Cattle, which must explain his visit to the bank. “What happened?”
Grey didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Nothing.”
“Barney denied you a loan?”
His frown deepened. “What makes you think I need one?”
“People talk.” And, in fact, it seemed everyone in the diner kept looking at them as if they wanted to say something now.
Grey fiddled with his fork. “Barney practically warned me not to darken his door again. You want to gloat, go ahead.”
“No, I’d rather watch you eat a good hamburger. You look like you need one.”
He groaned. “Don’t make me think of beef right now.”
She bit her lip so she wouldn’t ask, What will you do without that loan?
As she knew all too well, farming—ranching, in his case—could be a tightrope walk over a huge, deep chasm. Yet for a long time, and until recently, Wilson Cattle had been a moneymaking operation, its thousands of acres and rich grassland studded with purebred Black Angus cows and prize-winning bulls. Shadow understood how important it was to Grey, but she had no love for his ranch or even the much smaller farm where she’d grown up.
As a girl, escaping her family’s home had been a big part of her plans for her future. Now, Shadow would make a success of Mother Comfort and secure her independence—financial as well as emotional—from anyone else. She would never be poor again, and this was to be part one of the newer plan she’d formulated in the night. She should tell him what she’d come to say, then leave, let him digest the news on his own. But then, Grey had just had news of a different sort.
“Guess I’ll have to tighten my belt another notch,” Grey said at last, as if reading her mind. “I’ll be downright skinny soon.”
Shadow tried not to care. She stared at her shoes and lost her nerve, yet something drew her to stay. She hated to admit it was that look on his face and the hard line of his mouth.
She and Grey weren’t together anymore, never would be again, but she had loved him once and her stubborn heart kept revisiting better times. Being home had only made that worse. More importantly, they shared a lifetime bond, one Grey didn’t know about. This wasn’t the right time to tell him after all.
As if her mouth wasn’t connected to her brain, she said instead, “Maybe a bigger bank in Kansas City would grant you a loan.”
“Been there, done that. No deal.” He toyed with the fork again. “I think I’m a pretty good manager—better than that—or I was, until a few months ago. Then things started happening and keep on happening, and now this bank loan, and I can’t help wondering if my dad was right to leave Wilson Cattle in my hands, even on a trial basis...”
“All is not lost,” she said and tilted her head to look into his troubled eyes. Grey cracked a faint smile, as if he couldn’t help himself. She’d always been able to talk him out of a bad mood after one of their many disagreements in the past. They’d been able to make each other laugh even at the worst times—until tragedy struck and they couldn’t laugh, or love, any more.
“Now see what you’ve done.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We always did make a good pair, Shadow.”
“We did not.” He gazed back at her, and her pulse skipped a beat. “Grey. If we were going to hitch ourselves together like a couple of oxen, we’d have done so long ago. You know why we didn’t.”
Shifting her gaze, she stared at a point just over his shoulder. Maybe she shouldn’t have come back to Barren, or stayed, or even walked across the street today. Ten years hadn’t been long enough to quell her memories, including the good ones, and every time she saw him she also thought of what might have been. That is, before the other, worse memories flooded her mind.
As if he’d thought the same thing, Grey stopped smiling. His eyes were the color of dark jade now. “We live in the same town, Shadow. We see each other now and then...when you aren’t trying to keep away from me like you did at my nephew’s birthday party a few weeks ago. Or when you’re not answering your phone. You knew I was going to call.” He glanced toward the street. “Why give people something more to talk about?”
“I’m not the one who caused that—after what you did—”
“What your brother did.”
She lowered her voice. “Because of you, my brother will never have a ranch or anything else to lose.” She blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She hadn’t cried since she was seventeen—ten years ago. She wouldn’t cry now, but her voice trembled. “Jared doesn’t have a life. There’s nothing you could say, nothing you could do, to fix that. To bring him back,” she added.
People were openly staring now. In one way, she and Grey were alike, the stars of Barren’s own reality show. Their waitress came to take their orders, but Grey waved her off. “Give us a minute. Thanks.” His voice stayed quiet, too, but his eyes were intense. He waited until they were alone again. “I didn’t...kill him, Shadow. You either believe me or you don’t, which you obviously still don’t.”
“Neither does anyone else in this town.”
Grey said, “If I had any way to prove myself to them, to you, I would.” He paused, watching her with those sharp blue-green eyes. “Come on,” he said. “You and I were a couple once. We even picked out baby names. I still remember your favorite.”
Shadow felt herself turn pale.
“Why did you come in here today, anyway?” Grey asked. “I doubt it was to have lunch with me.”
“I—” She couldn’t find the words. Shadow caught the pointed gaze of a woman in the booth across the aisle who’d been trying to control her two young children, then had given up to focus on Shadow and Grey. “I have something to tell you. It’s—important.” Life-changing, really, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Fine. Let’s take this outside.”
Yet, how would she phrase what she had to tell him after all these years? She hadn’t thought this through carefully enough, and Grey was already hurting, worried about the fate of his ranch. In a show of compassion she wouldn’t have considered last night, Shadow decided she couldn’t blindside him after he’d already suffered such a blow today.
“I really can’t stay. I have appointments this afternoon, and if I don’t start now I’ll be late. I’ll be in my office all day tomorrow.” By then, she’d know exactly what to say. “Come see me anytime.”
“Shadow—”
She was already sliding toward the end of the booth when Grey said, “You’re...okay, aren’t you? Not sick or anything?”
“No, not sick,” she said, standing to block the woman’s view from the opposite booth.
“I’ll be there. Tomorrow.” Grey held up a hand. “Before you run off, I heard from Logan the other day. Did you get a call from Blossom?”
At the mention of their mutual friends, who’d recently become engaged, she turned back. “No, why? Is something wrong?”
Grey’s gaze held hers. “She’s going to ask you to be her maid of honor.”
Shadow blinked. The change of topic had taken her by surprise and was almost welcome. “Really. I’ve never been in a wedding before.”
He eyed her through those dark lashes, taking his time before he said, “You’d look real nice in a long white gown.”
She swallowed. This hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, and neither would trying to talk about something else. “White is for the bride. More likely, I’d have to wear a dress I wouldn’t wear to my own funeral.”
The last word hung in the air like a fresh reminder of everything that stood between them—a fresh reminder of Jared.
“Blossom has better taste than that,” Grey said, and Shadow winced. She’d only heard secondhand about bridesmaids’ dresses.
“I shouldn’t have said that. Blossom has every right to be happy without my mood spoiling things. She should pick somebody else.”
“I’ll leave you two to settle that,” Grey said. “Fair warning, though—Logan’s already asked me to be his best man.” He held her gaze for another long moment, then added, “Which I am.”
* * *
MOST PEOPLE SAID he had too much pride, and it was never easy for Grey to lose at anything. Especially with Shadow. Seeing her hadn’t helped. That spill of jet-black hair, her dark brown eyes and chiseled cheekbones... He’d felt like the love-struck boy he’d been before everything fell apart. After her brother died, he’d come close to begging her to believe in him. But then, Grey had hesitated when he said, I didn’t...kill him. He had his doubts about Jared’s death. About himself.
And today his luck wasn’t running very high. If he’d tried for more of their conversation in town, they might well have ended up in a nasty argument. Still wondering what she might say tomorrow, he drove home and down to the barn to find his new cowhand waiting for him, shifting his weight from one boot to the other in obvious impatience. Which came as no surprise.
“Glad I caught you. I was just headin’ into town myself.” Somewhere in his mid-twenties, Cody Jones had a shock of wheat-colored hair, close cut on the sides but longer on top. He still looked like a kid to Grey, who’d turned thirty this year, but Cody stood inches taller than Grey did, even at six feet. He had to look up into Cody’s merry dark eyes, which never set well with Grey, who was now the sole person of authority at Wilson Cattle. “Thought I’d get my pay first.”
“Sorry, you’ll have to wait.” After his morning appointment at the bank, he was sure about that. “We sold off those cattle last week, but the check hasn’t cleared.” He wouldn’t mention the loan.
“Man, I thought trying to make a living on the circuit was tough. Five seasons as a bronc rider before I quit to hire on here, but winnin’ prize money was way easier than this.”
“And how much did you win?”
Cody flashed a grin. “Not enough.”
“You know any riders who are earning good money?”
“Just the top guys, and they really rake it in. Private planes and all.”
“There you go. Most don’t ever reach that level. Being a top rodeo cowboy’s not that easy, either—it’s like winning the lottery.”
Grey had tried rodeo, too, for a couple of years after college, so he could empathize with Cody. Still, Grey viewed him almost as the younger brother he’d never had. He’d given him advice before, taught him quite a bit already and wanted to believe that Cody would, sooner or later, be of real value to Wilson Cattle. Which reminded him to ask, “You feed the horses this morning?”
Cody had “forgotten” twice last week. He had a tendency to focus on himself instead of his work. Grey toyed with the idea of docking his pay for the double oversight, then discarded it. He lived up to his obligations.
Too bad he couldn’t take that to the bank.
Before seeing Shadow, he’d made a quick stop at the local tack store to order a new saddle and buy some lesser supplies, but he’d come out empty-handed. His credit had been declined. Grey had been having a hard time paying the bills lately, which only compounded his growing sense of failure. A best man. Was he, really? If only he could find some way to prove to her, to everyone else—maybe most of all, to himself—that he was innocent in the death of Jared Moran. But what if he discovered just the opposite?
Cody’s grin had stuck to his face. “Guess I can wait to go into town. Maybe on Saturday night I’ll find a nice little buckle bunny to dance with. To be honest, that’s what I miss most about the rodeo circuit.”
“Good luck finding one in Barren.” Grey noticed that halfway down the barn aisle, Cody had left a wheelbarrow full of steaming manure. The pungent aroma threatened to spread through the entire barn. Grey pointed. “Right now you’d better stop daydreaming and clean up that mess.”
Cody’s expression fell. “Thought you wanted me to mend fence today near the boundary with Logan’s property. By the way, he’s got a hole there, too.”
Grey frowned. Two sections of fence breached at the same time? He wondered if that could be a coincidence.
“Can’t be in both places at once,” Cody added.
“First things first. The manure won’t take long. Then get out there before those cows wander off the ranch.”
Cody grumbled to himself but Grey had other things on his mind. He left Cody to the wheelbarrow and went on up to the house.
He wouldn’t tell his dad about the loan just yet. A few years ago, after a long time spent as a single father, Everett Wilson had remarried, turned the operation over to Grey and moved to Dallas with his bride, as he still called Grey’s stepmom, Liza. Grey was fully responsible here. He had to protect their mutual heritage or they’d end up with nothing. Yet those new holes in the fence nagged at him.
Maybe the loan he’d been denied, his cash flow issue and Shadow’s blame weren’t his only problems. He hoped tomorrow would be better.
* * *
AS THE SUN began to set, Shadow pulled into her driveway. The house she’d recently purchased in Barren was her pride and joy. For the first time in her life, she had something all her own. At least, in thirty years it would be, considering her new mortgage. The house was another, necessary part of her plans for the future. But Shadow was still angry with herself for chickening out on telling Grey what she’d decided to tell him. And just when she needed to be alone, to rehearse what to say tomorrow, her mother was waiting for her on her front steps.
Shadow opened the garage door with her remote control, rolled inside then shut the door behind her. She went in through the kitchen and down the short hall to the entryway.
“Mama. What are you doing out there?”
Her mother blinked. “I came to see you. Didn’t know I needed an excuse.”
“I didn’t say you did.” What was wrong now? Through the screen door Shadow could see that her mother, in her late forties, looked somewhat worn today. Her dark hair hung in dull hanks around her face. What was wrong now?
Considering what had happened right after Jared died, she shouldn’t feel bad for her remaining parent. Yet she still loved her mother, who’d lost her husband—Shadow’s father—a year ago, who still looked lost herself, and showed up now and then to see Shadow as if she’d forgotten their rift. Shadow always had a hard time saying no to anything her mother needed and rarely did.
“Come inside,” Shadow insisted.
“I’m fine right here,” her mother said. “Actually, I came to tell you my water heater—yes, the one you bought me—leaked all over the floor last night.” She added, “I don’t know if it can be fixed, and I don’t get my government check for another ten days.”
Shadow forced herself to gentle her tone. They’d had this discussion before, but to Shadow’s sorrow, nothing had changed. “Mama. How many times have I told you to sell that place?”
“It’s my home.”
Shadow suppressed a twinge of regret. Grey felt that way about his enormous ranch, which Shadow disliked as much as her family’s small farm, the modest house with its now-sagging roof, the cramped rooms where her parents had fought late into the night over every dime.
She shook her head. “Five acres of dirt, a bunch of chickens and a house that’s been falling down around your ears since I was in diapers.” And someone in that house, she thought, had always been in diapers.
“I own my house, free and clear. How many people can say that?”
True enough. Shadow had her brand-new mortgage to pay, a strong motivation to succeed with Mother Comfort. She murmured, “At least Daddy left you something.” Other than six children. Well, five now. For a time it had seemed her mother was pregnant every year. As the second oldest girl after her sister Jenna, Shadow had often helped with the youngest ones, giving bottles to Tanya and Cherry, wiping her little brother Derek’s grimy hands and runny noses while her dad did...almost nothing to help.
“He was a good man,” her mother said. “I loved your father.”
Another casualty, Shadow thought, of a man who couldn’t be counted on.
She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, but she needed to get through to her somehow. “Obviously, you can’t keep that house up much longer, Mama. It’s become harder and harder since Daddy died. The house is old. It needs too much work. How about I come out soon? We can get it ready to sell. That property’s not worth much, but enough to give you a fresh start. Away from all those memories.” She didn’t have to mention Jared.
“I’m staying.” Her mother looked away. “We always did the best we could.”
“I guess.” But Shadow had gone to school with holes in her sneakers—they all had. The same shoes that pinched because they were two sizes too small. Shadow had felt like one of those women centuries ago with their feet bound till they couldn’t walk. Now she had a serious obsession with shoes. They were her one indulgence. Everything else went into her plans for the future. Shadow looked down at her newest pair of flats. “You don’t have to live that way now,” she said. “Did you never consider what Daddy was doing to us then?” And that didn’t come close to Shadow’s last memory of him.
“He couldn’t get good work.”
“No, or if he did, it was because Everett Wilson hired him back again.” She added, “I know you were in a difficult position, Mama.” Shadow had been in one, herself. She’d had to make hard decisions, which reminded her now of Grey and their meeting tomorrow. “But when I actually needed Daddy—”
“He shouldn’t have done that, but honey, we’d just lost Jared! That was Grey Wilson’s doing. You can’t blame your father for feeling like he did. That boy killed our son and I’ll never forgive him.”
Shadow couldn’t disagree. But this wasn’t about Grey. It was Shadow her father had hurt then. “Yes, and after that, Daddy wasn’t there for me.” She almost hadn’t come home for his funeral, yet she’d done so for her mother’s sake. And stayed.
Her mother rose from the steps. “People make mistakes. Grey Wilson sure did, and you just ran off—”
“Because,” Shadow said, fighting the urge to push her mother away when she also wanted to take her in her arms and comfort them both, “I had to.” Because, like Daddy, you wouldn’t help me, either.
As if she’d actually heard the unspoken words, her mother drew herself up. She stood barely over five feet, even when she squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. Shadow had inherited her father’s height, but she had to give her mother credit for the courage that had failed Shadow earlier. Or was that her mother’s pride? Like Grey’s. “Forget I was here,” she said.
“Mama—”
She started down the steps. “I’ve made mistakes in my life, too. But at least,” she threw back over her shoulder, “I never abandoned my own baby.”
CHAPTER TWO (#u995d0323-f33c-51bf-a6be-3f279ccd2c50)
THE NEXT DAY at her desk, Shadow made a few calls, pored over several new applications for potential caregivers and mostly stared out the window again. She wasn’t getting much done. When she finally saw Grey’s pickup pull into a space in front of the agency, her anxiety ramped up another notch. Her mother’s words yesterday had only made that worse, all the more because, in some ways, she was right. As Grey walked into her office, every muscle in Shadow’s body tensed.
“Well?” he asked, sinking onto the chair in front of her desk. He wore a more familiar denim shirt, jeans and boots today. And, of course, the black Stetson, which he’d removed as soon as he opened the door. He balanced it on his knee.
Shadow pushed a pile of papers to one side and straightened the two ballpoint pens she always kept nearby. She folded her hands on the clean desktop but didn’t look at him. She glanced at the phone, almost willing it to ring, creating a delay. “I don’t know how to begin,” she said at last.
“Just tell me. Whatever it is.”
She made herself meet his gaze. “That would be best,” she agreed, wondering, even fearing, how he might react. “Grey, something else happened ten years ago. Something other than Jared.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You and I broke up—not for the first time.”
“For the last. And soon after Jared...died, I—” She cleared her throat, then rushed on, her heart a hard lump in her chest. She’d rehearsed these words but they stuck in her throat. “I discovered I was pregnant.”
Grey blinked. For a long moment he said nothing. Shadow watched a dozen emotions flash across his face. He turned the black hat on his knee in a circle. “Pregnant,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
His mouth hardened. “And you never told me.”
Shadow reached out a hand, but they didn’t connect. Grey sat too far away from her across the expanse of her desk and he’d pushed deeper into his chair, creating even more distance between them. “You’re right. I didn’t. I take full responsibility, Grey.”
“Well, that’s something. Now,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry. I know that sounds terribly inadequate, but at the time—because of Jared, too—I felt I couldn’t tell you.” She took a breath. “That was wrong of me.”
“And it’s still wrong. Ten years?” He shook his head. “I suppose you told your parents.”
“Yes.” Shadow had come home from school that day to find her father in his living room recliner, his “seat of business,” he always claimed.
“The TV was on,” she continued, “blaring some rerun of an old cowboy series. He watched the episodes over and over, like he was trying to relive his dreams of being a successful rancher. I could have recited the dialogue word for word, but I was too scared to even think. All day in class I’d dreaded telling him. It was only a week after Jared died.”
“How did you know?”
“I’d had some physical signs but tried to ignore them. At first, I thought my body was just reacting to all the anxiety, the grief. Then I...was late again, and I bought a test.” She remembered that night, locked in the bathroom while her youngest brother, Derek, banged at the door, saying it was his turn. “When my mother walked into the room and turned off the TV, my heart was beating like some ceremonial drum. I could hardly get the words out. ‘Daddy, Mama, I’m pregnant.’”
The test didn’t lie. At seventeen, Shadow had been about to become a mother.
Grey’s mouth twisted. He still didn’t look at her. “What did your father say?”
“His face got red and he gripped the arms of his chair—like he had to hold himself in place or he’d come after me. He stared me down. He guessed it was yours right away. I’ll never forget those horrible days.” Now she had added another, and inflicted it on Grey, too. Finally, he lifted his gaze, and Shadow refused to look away from his sharp, accusatory eyes.
“I told him you were the only boy I was seeing.” Not that they’d been together anymore by the time she’d had that conversation with her parents. She hadn’t had a chance to recover from their final fight, from Grey’s rejection. How could she, after seeing Jared lying so still and pale in his coffin.
“And your mom?”
“She said nothing at first. Then it was just, ‘Oh, Shadow,’ and she started crying.” Shadow swallowed. “My parents and I were alone in the room. I said a brief prayer of thanks that my sisters and Derek weren’t around. I’d seen him wrestling in the yard with a friend—he still hangs out with Calvin Stern—on my way in, and my sisters were heading for the henhouse to collect eggs.” The chickens’ squawking had shattered the last of her nerves, as if even they blamed her for what had happened.
Grey worried the crease in his hat. “Then what?”
Shadow closed her eyes, remembering her dad leaning forward in his chair, pointing a finger at her. “He said he wouldn’t have any more to do with that family, with you—” she sucked in a breath “—or anything belonging to you.” Shadow laid a protective hand on her now-flat stomach. “My mom was staring at him. I was shaking so hard. Not anything, I said. Anyone.”
“Prodding the tiger,” Grey muttered.
Her voice trembled, as it had then. “Daddy slammed back in his chair again, aimed the remote at the TV and told me to get out.”
“Your mother didn’t say anything? Even then?”
“Not a word. You know she always sided with him.”
Grey’s voice was deadly quiet. “What did you do?”
“I stuffed some clothes in a backpack and left. I had a week’s pay from my job at that fast-food restaurant. If Daddy thought I had betrayed him, he’d also betrayed me. So did my mom.”
“Where did you go? You must have gotten help somewhere.” He might have asked why she hadn’t gone to him, found a way to get to his college in Texas—he’d already gone back for the fall semester by then. But Grey waited for her reply, and Shadow was thankful. She wanted to get the whole story out before she started trying to explain herself.
“To Doc’s office.”
“Doc?” Grey echoed. “What did he say?”
Shadow didn’t meet his eyes. “‘Well, young lady, what have you got to say for yourself?’” Remembering, she blushed. She’d sat up on Doc’s cold metal table at his clinic in Barren and burst into tears. “I’d hitched a ride into town, then wandered along Main Street, my mind blank yet whirling at the same time—What should I do? Where would I go?—until, finally, I ended up at Doc’s.”
Cyrus Baxter had taken one look at her, swept out from behind the reception desk where he’d been studying a chart, passed his wife, Ida, who was talking on the phone, and ushered Shadow into the exam room, where she’d blurted out her earth-shattering news. In his late fifties then, his dark hair had been sprinkled with gray but his blue eyes were keen. Doc never wore a white coat; he believed his youngest patients found that intimidating.
“You never thought to come to me?” Grey asked now.
“Yes. I thought of finding you, instead, but after we broke up—after Jared—I couldn’t.”
In that moment she’d wished she hadn’t gone to Doc, either, but still caught up in the fallout at home, and always a breath away from crying over losing Jared, she’d completely missed Doc’s gentle tone of voice.
He’d given Shadow her vaccinations as a baby, treated her skinned knees and strep throats during childhood and offered her a birds-and-bees lecture when she entered puberty. Apparently that hadn’t done much good, but he’d cupped her shoulders in both hands as he’d done many times before, and said, “None of that now, Shadow. Tears won’t help.”
“He knew you were the father,” Shadow told Grey now, wincing at his pained expression when she spoke that last word. “His reaction was different than Daddy’s, though. I explained that you’d already left, that even if you hadn’t I could never go to you, not after what you’d done to Jared. But he interrupted me, said, ‘I’ve known Grey since he was drinking milk from a bottle. He’s never been in trouble before.’ He said he did wonder what you were all doing together that night, why there was a gun. It’s true that you and Jared didn’t run in the same circles.”
Shadow could feel the blood drain from her head toward her feet, as it had that other day. “Jared was defending my honor, I told Doc. I explained that he and Derek and Calvin Stern had gone to your ranch to teach you a lesson. And then...and then Doc told me he saw Jared. After. He saw his wounds. But even so, that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
Shadow was barely holding back tears. Though she’d been grateful, earlier, for Grey’s silence, grateful that he was letting her tell the story on her terms, part of her wished he would react. Show some emotion. She wiped her eyes.
“I wanted to believe him,” she continued. “Wanted to believe you could be innocent and that we could be together again, get married and keep...our baby. I asked Doc if he though Derek and Calvin were lying about what happened, and he just told me to keep an open mind. And to talk to you—make a decision together.”
“Why didn’t you?” Grey pressed.
At first she didn’t answer. She’d gone to Doc as a last resort, but she trusted his advice. So why hadn’t she been able or willing to follow it? Shadow remembered hearing Ida, still on the phone in the outer room.
Doc’s wife was the nosiest woman Shadow knew and her mother called Ida the town’s best gossip. Suddenly, Shadow had been overcome with worry that she would walk in at any moment, that if Ida learned the truth, she’d broadcast it for sure, only adding to the scandal of Jared’s death. That was when the enormity of the situation had hit her.
“I don’t know,” she told Grey, finally. “I was so overwhelmed. Doc took me in for the night and said we could discuss the...options in the morning. And then once everything was decided—” He’d told Shadow he would handle Ida.
Before Shadow realized how Grey might interpret that, she watched another emotion cross his face. He snatched the black Stetson from his knee, clamped it on his head then stood abruptly. “What did you do, Shadow?” He didn’t wait for her answer.
“Grey—”
“No,” he said, his hand already on the doorknob. He looked confused, conflicted. Overwhelmed. He had every right to be. “I need to think about this.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Shadow sank back in her chair, filled with regret. For ten years, only three other people had known about Ava—four, if she counted her deceased father. Her mother, her sister Jenna and Doc. Now Grey also knew her secret.
And she hadn’t just shocked him. She’d hurt him more deeply than she’d ever imagined.
* * *
BACK AT WILSON CATTLE, Grey shook his head. Cody had failed to properly mend the broken fence yesterday—call him Mr. Reliable—and Grey propped both hands on his hips to study the gap that was still there, the few strands of barbed wire hanging where Cody had hastily twisted them together as a temporary fix. Lazy, he thought, and it hadn’t worked. Grey had spent half the afternoon rounding up strays. Standing beside Logan Hunter, his friend and neighbor, he studied both sides of the property line.
“This fence was deliberately cut,” Grey said, but he was having a hard time keeping his mind on that fact or even that Cody had let him down. He kept hearing Shadow’s words. He’d had a kid, a child he’d never known about until now. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around that. Couldn’t believe she’d gone to Doc instead of him. Whatever decision she’d made, their baby was his business, not Doc’s.
Logan ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “Deliberate, all right. Same as mine was. Not the usual teardown by some cow determined to get free.”
“You missing any cattle? I mean, bison?”
Years ago Logan’s grandfather Sam had switched from raising beef, although Grey still wondered why. The bison could be mean critters, more aggressive than the Angus breeding bulls Grey ran, any day. If he needed proof, all he had to do was look at Logan’s grandfather, who’d been tossed weeks ago by one of his bison and badly broken his leg. His cast was off but he still had a limp.
“I’ll have to ask Willy or Tobias,” Logan said, referring to two of his cowboys. His already deep-blue eyes had darkened. “I’ve been too busy with the wedding plans to count bison cows or ride fence. Darned if I don’t miss that.”
Grey wanted to smile but couldn’t. The constant chore was nobody’s favorite, and to help his injured grandfather, Logan, who was by profession a test pilot, had become a temporary cowboy again—until he and Blossom fell in love and the ranch gained new appeal for him. Which only made Grey think of Shadow. “You don’t look unhappy. The break from flying jets must agree with you.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have to make some real decisions soon. I’ve got applications in with other aircraft manufacturers in Wichita, but there’s not a lot of demand right now.”
With his gloved hands, Grey retwisted some wires together, enough to keep his cows in until he could fix the fence himself.
“You’d quit?” he asked. “I thought you were just taking a short leave.”
“We’ll see. The ranch will always be home to Blossom and me, at least in part, depending on what I decide to do about flying for a living. Sam still needs help here.”
Grey glanced at him. He and Logan had grown up together, although Logan was two years older and Grey had always seen him as an older brother—the way he looked after Cody now. “It’d be great if you could stay, Logan.” He shook his head again. “I know I’ll never leave this place.” Not willingly, anyway. His stomach twisted at the thought of the loan Barney had denied him.
Logan frowned. “Why would you leave? Running Wilson Cattle is all you ever wanted to do, Grey. This ranch has been in your family even longer than the Circle H has been in mine.”
His gut tightened. Grey’s great-great-something-grandfather had bought this acreage right after the Civil War when land was cheap. As Logan knew, too, the old man was buried in the family plot just over the hill with the generations that had come after him. Grey had always wanted children who would inherit Wilson Cattle from him, but now... He had to steady his voice before he spoke.
“Yep. Wilson Cattle is in my blood, in my bones.”
Logan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Talk about old times. Remember when you and I—and my brother—scared ourselves crazy every Halloween in the graveyard? And rode all over both ranches, yelling like banshees, playing we were grown-up cowboys like your dad and Sam? Spooking the cattle? Pretending we were on some everlasting roundup?”
“Until we had to surrender our horses. Grounded,” Grey said. “We gave my dad and your grandfather more gray hairs...” Clearing his throat, he squinted into the far distance, listening for the reassuring sounds from the Black Angus herd that would tell him everything was fine. He knew each shuffle of hooves, each calf’s bleat or cow’s bellow, though unlike Sam Hunter he didn’t name the animals.
“Yeah,” Logan said, “but I regret that I spent more time off the Circle H than on for too many years. Now, because of Blossom, that’s finally changed. At least for now.”
Grey envied them. Shadow’s earlier words spun through his brain again like a McCormick reaper in a ripe hayfield. Years ago, he’d thought they were headed for the altar, like Logan and Blossom were now—until their last fight. Then Jared had died and Grey got blamed for it, at least in the court of public opinion. And sometimes within himself. All of which had prevented any reconciliation between him and Shadow. Logan had obviously picked up on his mood. Which of Doc’s options had she taken? He hadn’t let Shadow tell him what they were, or what she’d done.
“What’s wrong, Grey? Except for this barbed wire.”
“Plenty,” he admitted, “but I’ll get through it.”
Logan dragged a hand through his dark hair. “Whatever you say stops here.”
“I know, but...”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Logan punched his upper arm. “Someday that pride of yours is going to get you in real trouble.”
Grey rubbed his biceps, as if Logan had actually hurt him. “I imagine it will.” It already had, in town with Shadow today. He’d left her office shocked and mad at her for keeping their child from him all these years, afraid he’d say things he’d regret later.
He and Logan stood for a moment in silent companionship, two guys who were never comfortable expressing their deepest feelings. He guessed many men weren’t, but with cowboys that went double. His pride definitely wouldn’t let him tell his best friend about the bombshell Shadow had dropped on him. Not yet. He needed time to think, to decide how to react.
Logan scratched at a bug bite on his forearm. “The first truly warm weather—after all the rain—and the mosquitoes are already out.”
“Whenever the wind’s not blowing.” The prairie breeze could be fierce, especially in spring, and in June it was still hanging on. When Grey’s ancestors had settled here, the wind’s relentless nature had driven some people mad. He was glad there was no wind today.
He surveyed his land once more. Wilson Cattle sat closer to the main road than Logan’s adjoining Circle H did, and on what passed in the state for higher ground. It didn’t have the Hunters’ long driveway and was also near the crossroads—easy picking for modern-day mischief-makers? Someone with a pair of wire cutters might think opening a hole here and there was great fun. With proms and graduation coming up, this was high season for teenage pranksters.
He tipped his hat back, then resettled it, scanning the ranch to the horizon. Whatever happened next, he was not going to lose Wilson Cattle—which had become a real possibility.
What to do about Shadow was another matter.
* * *
BLOSSOM KENNEDY WAS the kind of person with whom Shadow had felt instantly comfortable as soon as they met. This was a first for her. She didn’t let many people into her inner circle—she’d learned as a kid not to let others get close enough to see how she’d lived then—but she and Blossom had hit it off right away.
Shadow had no sooner watched Grey walk out of her office than Blossom had called her cell phone. Still shaking, Shadow had let the call go to voice mail. Once she’d finally listened to the message, she’d known what to do, and she had driven out to the Circle H. She hated having to fib to Blossom, but at least she would do so to her face.
“About the wedding,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be your maid of honor.” That role, and the responsibility it carried, seemed even more important to Shadow than if Blossom had simply asked her to be one of several bridesmaids.
“Of course you will.” Sitting on the porch steps of the house she shared with Logan, Blossom pushed a stray russet curl off her forehead.
“Thanks for asking me, but...” And here came the thin lie she didn’t want to tell. “I’m so busy—swamped—with the agency right now.” Which wasn’t exactly untrue. “I’m overbooked.” There was no way, after she’d told Grey about their child, that she could stand up with him at a wedding. That he could want her to be there. As best man, he’d be close to her all day and yet they’d be so far apart. “I may have to hire more help.” Even to her ears, that sounded weak.
“You’ll be working that Saturday? Come on, it’s not really the agency,” Blossom said, as if she could see straight through Shadow. “I think this is about Grey. I told Logan this might be a problem.”
Her insight didn’t surprise Shadow. Blossom had seen her with Grey at the birthday party for Blossom’s soon-to-be stepson. It had been no secret that Shadow had wanted to avoid him.
“I just talked to him in town,” she admitted.
“I shouldn’t pry. Logan told me you two broke up years ago for some awful reason, but I can see that Grey still loves you.”
Shadow’s heart turned over. “Which doesn’t help. We always had a rocky relationship—on-again, off-again, with lots of drama—” And love, she thought. For a moment she couldn’t go on, yet Blossom had a right to know at least part of the truth. “Then there was a shooting accident. The sheriff, the coroner, the forensics lab—no one could determine whose fault it was, exactly—though most people still think they know—and Grey was never charged. But I’d still lost him... Jared, I mean. He was my older brother, and of all the kids in my family, I was closest to him. I still miss him,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Shadow. I didn’t know.”
She stared down at her shoes, soft loafers today from her ever-growing collection. “The town’s still talking about that, more again since I came back to Barren.” She sighed. “Now you know why I can’t be in your wedding.” Part of the reason.
Blossom sat back to rest her spine against the riser of the next step as she rubbed her pregnant stomach. Her coming baby had played a big part in helping Blossom turn her life around with Logan, and Shadow envied her that new start.
A brief silence fell. Shadow could see the disappointment in her brown eyes. Blossom didn’t know that many people in Barren. Shadow was probably leaving her in the lurch.
She squeezed Blossom’s hand, then got to her feet. “I’d better get going.” As always, when she visited the Circle H, which was rare, she tried to avoid a glance toward Grey’s neighboring ranch. Today, she couldn’t. He was too much on her mind, the stunned look on his face when she’d told him about the pregnancy. Just over the slight hill between the two properties, she could glimpse the roof of his barn. She said weakly, “Tell Logan I said hey.”
Blossom stood, too, wobbling to gain her balance until Shadow cupped a hand under her elbow to steady her. “Thanks. My center of gravity is off these days.” She paused. “Please think about this, Shadow. I know it would be difficult for you with Grey in the wedding party, but there’s no one else I’d rather have for my maid of honor even if I knew everyone in town and had lived here all my life.”
Shadow had to bite her lip against another rush of tears. “That’s sweet, Blossom. I’m honored.” She moved toward her car. “Grateful,” she added. “But really, I...can’t.”
She regretted having to say no, letting down her new friend. Now, all because of the tragedy from years ago, she’d hurt two people. Blossom and Grey.
CHAPTER THREE (#u995d0323-f33c-51bf-a6be-3f279ccd2c50)
IN THE DARK, on a slight rise above the lower pasture near the western boundary of his ranch, Grey trained his binoculars on the grass below and several hundred yards away. Earlier, on a hunch, he’d decided to keep watch tonight. Lying flat on his stomach, he doubted he could be seen behind this low scrub, but something was definitely going on. A few cows had skittered off, bawling, raising Grey’s blood pressure and generating a surge of adrenaline. Then he heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle.
He muttered a curse as a big white truck towing a stock trailer rolled to a stop by the roadside. Trouble, all right.
He’d been expecting, even hoping, to see vandals. A couple of teenagers, maybe, out on a lark after prom or graduation at the local high school. Celebrating. Or rather, making mischief by knocking over mailboxes or cutting fence. Not this. What he suspected was about to happen would be far worse. And devastating to his bottom line—if he let it happen.
As he watched, the trailer’s back gate opened. With a screech of metal on metal, the ramp rattled down. A wiry figure in dark clothing glanced around, then walked up to the fence Grey had fixed properly just before dusk. And snipped the wire.
“No, you don’t,” Grey said to himself, but the man was already through. He coiled up a rope then sent the loop sailing through the air with an audible hiss. Not bad form, but his first try missed. One of the Angus cows that had run off before took off again. “You won’t,” Grey said, but he didn’t move. Not yet.
On his second throw, the man snagged a young heifer.
Grey grabbed his cell phone. When the sheriff’s dispatcher answered, Grey said in a low tone, “Get me some help out here. Rustlers,” then hung up.
The heifer, which had recently been weaned, was being herded to the van, protesting all the way. A cow, most likely its mother, bellowed in answer. The whole herd milled around, boxy dark shapes in the night caught between apparent concern for the younger cow and their instinctive need to flee. In the next pasture, Grey’s best bull paced back and forth behind an uncut fence, eyeing the action, intent upon protecting his cows.
Grey reached for his rifle.
The sheriff would come, but his office in Barren was miles away. By the time he got here, the thieves would be gone.
Grey cocked the rifle. He wasn’t close enough to be accurate with the weapon and didn’t want to warn them, but if it came to shooting...he would. He would prefer to get hard proof of the theft, rather than scare them off, just as he wanted evidence to clear himself in Jared Moran’s death—if things turned out his way. That meant waiting until the cows were on board before he made his move.
For a few moments longer, he eyeballed the three rustlers through the scope as they rounded up half a dozen cows and a few calves and drove them up the ramp. The men weren’t subtle; they worked with speed yet didn’t seem to care if anyone saw them. Then again, on this stretch of road that wasn’t likely. The whole time Grey had been here, not a car or rancher’s pickup had passed by. Most local people would be in bed at this time of night. Like Grey, they got up at dawn, if not before, worked hard all day then turned in early to get ready for the next.
The ramp screeched up again. The rear gate banged shut.
The physical evidence he’d wanted was now standing in the stock trailer. Over the noise from those kidnapped cattle, from farther away he could just hear an approaching car, coming fast. The sheriff’s cruiser? But as he’d figured, not quick enough. Before Grey could move, the three men scrambled into the truck, slamming the front doors. The engine fired up, and the headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the spiky grass along the newly broken fence line and the gravel at the edge of the road as if they were part of a stage set.
He’d waited too long. Aiming for the tires, Grey raised the rifle and fired. The bullet ricocheted off the rim of a rear wheel well, striking sparks. That, and the sound of the gunshot, sent the rest of the herd into a brief stampede.
Grey shot to his feet anyway, ready to shoot again. Needing a better position, he ran down the hill, hoping he wouldn’t bust a leg in the dark. But like the sheriff, he didn’t get there in time.
The rustlers blasted off into the night. Taking his cattle with them.
* * *
STANDING OUTSIDE A large chain bookstore halfway between her house in Barren and her sister’s home in a Kansas City suburb, Shadow watched Jenna Moran Collins get out of a gleaming SUV on the opposite side of the lot—their distance from each other a metaphor for their prickly relationship—and shut the passenger door.
Shadow’s heart sank. After her talks with Grey and her mother, she didn’t expect this to be easy, either, and her mother’s parting words had stuck in her mind.
At least I didn’t abandon my own baby. That wasn’t true, but it still stung. She’d tried so hard to do the right thing for Ava. Today would be no different.
Jenna walked toward her, tall and slim with their father’s auburn hair and blue eyes. Wearing a stylish pair of dark pants and an expensive-looking patterned top, she had a smile on her face that, as usual lately, never reached her eyes.
Shadow led Jenna over to a metal bench, one of several lined up along the walkway of the strip mall anchored by the bookstore and an ice cream/candy shop. Whenever Shadow couldn’t make it to the city, this made a convenient meeting place.
Jenna all but tapped an impatient foot on the sidewalk. She rooted through her designer handbag. “Why did you want to see me?”
Shadow abandoned the soft lead-in she’d rehearsed, as she’d failed to do with Grey before walking into the diner, and plunged right in. “I want to bring Ava home.”
Jenna paled. “Home?”
Ten years ago Shadow had made some tough decisions—decisions she hadn’t gotten to tell Grey about yet—and she and Ava had lived with Jenna and her husband for the two years before Shadow’s move back to Barren. But now Grey knew about Ava, and Shadow could follow through with the rest of her plan. But Jenna kept shaking her head.
Shadow tried to soften her tone. “My business is doing pretty well, and I’ve even saved some money. I can never repay you for stepping in when I needed help the most, for taking us both in. You and David helped me move in to my house, and with the school year ending, you know there’s no reason for her to keep staying with you—except that you want her to. I can’t blame you for that. Ava just lights up a room, doesn’t she?”
And only last night Shadow had gone into what would be her daughter’s bedroom. She’d sat there, hoping Ava would like what she’d done with the space, dreaming of what it would be like when they were together again.
“She can’t move right now.” Jenna met Shadow’s gaze. “Her summer break hasn’t started yet.”
“I know, and I realize we’ll have to transition from your house to mine. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. Then I’ll speak with Ava. I know she’ll have some objections—”
Her sister’s eyes filled with tears.
“Jenna, I love how good you are with her, I know you’ve become attached—”
“She’s my only niece. This past year she’s spent more time with me than with you.”
Shadow tensed. This wasn’t going well. “That couldn’t be helped. I had to commute between Barren and Shawnee Mission. Building the agency, buying the house...all of that took time and effort, but you knew those were first steps toward me bringing Ava home. I didn’t want to uproot her into yet another uncertain situation. But you knew I’d always planned for this. For us to be together in our own place again.”
She couldn’t wait for the chance to tuck Ava into bed each night, to know that in the morning she would be there, eager to start the day. With Shadow. But Jenna didn’t agree.
“This is just such a...shock.” She took a shaky breath. “Shadow, I love Ava. So much that I would adopt her if I could. No, I want to adopt her.”
Shadow’s pulse hitched. Why hadn’t she seen that coming? She had no intention of giving up her child, and she’d thought Jenna understood that. Shadow had worked and worked toward bringing Ava home. To build the solid foundation she hadn’t been able to provide her daughter for the first six years of her life, when Shadow had struggled just to pay rent on their tiny apartment. Jenna’s statement terrified her. But then, Jenna also had her husband to consider. Had she talked to him?
Shadow doubted he would be as eager to adopt as Jenna was. He’d always liked being her first priority, and more than once Shadow had seen him turn away from Ava as if to cut out the competition. The infertility that had plagued her sister had never seemed to bother him as much, even though he’d agreed to all of the in vitro fertilizations they had tried without success. Would he really side with Jenna on this?
“What about David?”
Jenna’s gaze flickered. “He’s busy right now, planning for a conference in Chicago before he has to go on to his firm’s branch in Salt Lake.” She hesitated. “Dave’s not in the best mood, anyway—he’s worried about his chances to become partner—but as soon as he gets his trip arranged, we’ll talk.”
That news surprised Shadow. David had always portrayed himself as a legal star, the golden boy of his prestigious firm and a shoo-in to become partner. If he didn’t make that, after all, his mood would probably get much worse. She wondered if he’d be willing to talk about adoption then. Not that Shadow intended to let things get that far.
“You’re not being reasonable, Jen. David has always wanted a child of his own. I remember his objections to you adopting in the first years of your marriage. I doubt he’s changed his mind. And I certainly haven’t changed mine. I understand how you must feel but Ava belongs with me.”
Jenna lowered her voice with obvious effort. “Are you sure about that?”
The question pushed Shadow off balance. “Of course I am. It’s not healthy for us to be apart so much. Without her, I’m just...adrift. I know Ava and I will need to make some readjustments, but I’m prepared to do that.”
“You won’t have to if she stays with me.”
“Jenna, I’m not saying moving Ava will be easy, but it’s the best thing for her. Not that our lives together were simple before. You know how we struggled until finally I felt so overwhelmed, and frightened for her welfare—”
“That you came to me.”
And to be fair, Jenna hadn’t hesitated to take them in. When one year had stretched into two, she’d been happy to let them stay. Then, a year ago, when their father died and Shadow had returned to Barren for his funeral, she’d found an opportunity she couldn’t resist to open her agency there instead of paying Kansas City prices to rent an office. That had been the chance she’d needed to secure Ava’s future. Ever since, she’d been juggling her job and her responsibility to Ava, working in Barren five days a week then spending the weekends with her at Jenna’s house. Now it was time to end that, to be with her daughter every day. And oh, how Shadow had missed her. This past year had been very hard on both of them.
For a moment she let herself remember their everyday routine—getting Ava off to school, cozying up at bedtime to read her favorite book, sharing mother-daughter conversations and silly jokes. Kissing her good-night.
Still, she had to let Jenna know how grateful she was. “If it hadn’t been for you and David, I don’t know what I would have done.”
The fact that Jenna, a year older than Shadow, had been, and still was, in far better financial shape couldn’t be denied. Their spacious home in Shawnee Mission, an upscale community just outside Kansas City, had given Ava advantages Shadow couldn’t supply then, especially the school in which Ava had started first grade. Now Jenna stayed silent.
“I didn’t want Ava to end up in poverty the way you and I grew up.” Shadow drew a deep breath. “I wanted her to have something better.”
Jenna’s mouth set in a hard line. “She still does.”
Shadow was shaking. She’d never expected Jenna to be so unwilling to let Ava go, even to the point of bringing up adoption. “I’m in a different situation than I was before, and yes, that’s thanks to you in large part. But Jenna, I’m her mother!”
Shadow tried to collect herself. This was going even worse than her moments with Grey at Annabelle’s Diner and in her office. “We’ve talked about this before, Jen. Surely you knew we’d move out as soon as I was able to provide Ava with everything she needs. She’s my first priority. She always has been. She always will be, and I used that time while we lived with you to improve things—for her benefit.”
Shadow had worked two and sometimes three jobs, paid off her mountain of bills, saved every penny toward buying her house in a good neighborhood in Barren. After becoming a teen mother, she’d finally gotten her GED, and later completed courses to become an administrator at the same nursing home where she’d been an aide. As a supervisor, she’d developed the leadership skills needed to open Mother Comfort, all the while planning to be with her daughter in their own home.
“I have two bedrooms now,” she said. “Ava won’t have to share like we did when we had that first little apartment in the city.” Shadow laid a hand on Jenna’s arm and felt her flinch. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jen. I don’t want you to lose her, either,” she said. “You can see Ava whenever you wish. That doesn’t have to change. She can spend some weekends with you and David—the way I’ve been commuting this past year while I got the agency going. I know she loves you, too.”
Jenna glanced at the sky. “Well, let’s see. You love Ava. I love Ava. You love me. That’s all very nice, Shadow. But the real question is—does she still love you?”
Shadow’s breath caught. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Haven’t you noticed? She’s become so resentful. While you were studying, working, she learned to rely on me. Most mornings I see her off on the school bus, and who takes her to soccer practice and the pediatrician when you can’t be there?”
“That’s not fair. I was home with her as much as I could be. Maybe I was wrong to wait even this long—”
“She didn’t ask to come with me today. She didn’t ask about you, Shadow. I don’t think you realize what’s happened here.”
Shadow swallowed. It hurt to know that in recent months Ava had become closer to Jenna than to Shadow, and yes, she’d noticed that. Already her relationship with Ava had begun to change, not for the better.
Jenna did have a point. Ava hadn’t understood why Shadow needed to be in Barren during the week this past year, only spending Friday night through Sunday in Shawnee Mission. The commute had worn her down, but Shadow had stuck to it. And several times, when Ava was sick, she’d closed the office to stay with her—which was only right. She’d gone to every parent-teacher conference, to her spring concert, arranged sleepovers with her friends. But in trying to do the best thing for her child, had she only made things worse?
Now she had Jenna and their relationship to deal with, too. And Grey.
* * *
GREY TOSSED HIS hat onto the sheriff’s beige metal desk then sank down on a wooden chair across from him. “So that’s what happened,” he said.
Finn Donovan had listened patiently to Grey’s report to his deputy about his missing cattle, offering a comment here and there or asking a question. Grey had first thought of the new chief law enforcement officer of Stewart County more as a typical hard-working cowboy—like Grey—rather than a cop. Finn wore no gold star on his chest, and on his lanky frame were a faded blue denim shirt and jeans, as if he’d just wandered in from some barn or pasture. He wore scuffed brown boots that had seen better days, but despite his casual look he had a mind as sharp as a spike of broken barbed wire.
He gazed at Grey.
“I gave Logan a call to follow up while you were signing your statement.” He pointed toward the outer room, where Grey could hear the continual clack of computer keys and the constantly ringing phone. The air smelled of burned coffee. “His men tell him they’ve lost a few cows but not as many as you did. What does that say to you?”
“It isn’t as easy for someone to pull up to the Circle H from the road as it is to pull up to my ranch and steal my means of making a living. You should have seen those guys. Slick as a whistle. Brazen.”
“You saw them. Can’t you add better descriptions?”
“Finn, it was pitch dark out there—no light to take photos. I was on the hill too far away to see much detail, even with binoculars.”
“Yeah, and you should have waited for me. Instead of getting trigger-happy.”
“I didn’t hit anybody,” Grey muttered. “They were already leaving when I took that one shot—trying to disable the truck. Missed their tire and off they went. I’m still kicking myself for waiting. Maybe I should have charged down that hill as soon as I saw them and taken them by surprise. Tried to get a look at their faces.” He shook his head. “And here I thought I was dealing with high school kids on a spree.”
“Keep a cool head, Grey. They might come back.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Finn ran a hand through his unruly mop of dark hair. “That doesn’t reassure me. I don’t need somebody getting hurt. You said all your cattle were branded. Ear tags?”
“Yep.”
“Get me a list of those numbers. I’ll check around. Sometimes these cows show up pretty quick at auction. It’s like fencing stolen jewelry. Fast money.”
“Since Logan’s missing a few head, too, maybe we can take turns posting a guard in the likely spots for those rustlers to cut fence again. I don’t welcome having to send my new guy out to string wire every day.”
“Who’s the guy?” Finn liked to keep tabs on everyone in his county.
“Kid by the name of Cody Jones. Ex-rodeo wannabe.”
Grey could all but see the sheriff adding him to a mental file. “Tell him to be careful. You, too.” Finn stood up, retucked the tail of his shirt then started for the door. The interview was over. Grey picked up his hat and followed. The sheriff was a man of few words, but in the outer room he turned. “I’ll be out to look at the damage sometime today. You didn’t fix that fence already, did you?”
“No. I moved the herd to another graze. Again.”
“Maybe we can lift an impression of those tires.”
Grey adjusted his hat. “The ground was soft enough last night, but I didn’t stumble around in the dark to see. If we’re lucky, the tracks might still be there.”
“I doubt we’ll get any fingerprints, though.” The corner of Finn’s mouth kicked up. “Guess they’d be on the cows—or the truck. Which at the moment are gone.”
“Don’t I know it.” Grey paused. Finn had moved to Barren about the same time Shadow came back to town. After a rip-roaring election campaign against the long-time sheriff who’d handled Jared Moran’s case years ago, Finn hadn’t held office more than six months. Maybe he could offer a fresh eye on the other subject that was bothering Grey to this day. “Since we’re talking about crimes, here, I know Jared Moran’s case was closed back in the day. But can it be reopened?”
“Not unless there’s new evidence.”
Grey explained his side of the event, then Finn said, “Let me review the file. It’s somewhere in the archives but I’ve never read it. Then we’ll see.”
“Appreciate it.”
A few minutes later, after he had said his neighborly goodbyes to Finn’s deputies, the dispatcher and the sergeant at the front desk, Grey walked out to his truck with Finn.
“So,” the sheriff said, a hand on the open door as Grey started to climb in. His hazel eyes looked as sharp as his mind was. “The other day I dropped in at the diner to get some takeout for lunch. Guess you didn’t see me. You were with Shadow Moran.”
Grey tensed, reminded of the classic TV show in which the disheveled but crafty detective wearing a trench coat always trapped the suspect at the last minute with some offhand yet leading statement that led to an arrest. “Yeah?”
Grey’s personal life had long ago become common knowledge in Barren, usually with some reference to Shadow’s brother. Except for his pride, he could accept that, but he didn’t care to hear any more gossip about him and Shadow—especially after the shocking announcement she’d made.
He was still thinking about that.
“Thought you stuck to things like missing cattle and store break-ins or cowboys trashing the bars on Saturday nights.”
Finn raised both hands, as if to say he was backing off. He glanced down the street toward the bank but didn’t mention Grey’s loan. Thanks to Barney Caldwell, Finn and probably everyone else in town knew about that.
With a wave, he drove off. If Finn came through, Grey’s cattle might be returned before they got slaughtered, thousands of dollars’ worth of assets back on his books. And maybe with some luck he hadn’t had lately, Finn would find something in that file to justify reopening Jared’s case. For ten years Grey had lived with the aftermath, but since Shadow’s return, the unsolved murder seemed to be front-page news again—in other people’s minds and in his. The small ranching community thrived on knowing what was going on with every resident, and Grey was still a high-profile topic. Unless he got to the bottom of Jared’s death, and until he knew for sure he hadn’t pulled that trigger, he’d be in the spotlight. And so much negative attention would do nothing to help bring Wilson Cattle back into the black.
And then there was Shadow’s child. His child, the one he’d never been told about. He’d never even had a chance to be involved in whatever decision Shadow had made with Doc. It was a wonder that story wasn’t all over Barren. Maybe it was, and he was the only one who hadn’t heard it. He still felt crushed by the revelation. He doubted they could ever reconcile; that he should even want to now.
Grey glanced at the Mother Comfort Home Health Care Agency as he passed it on his right, and for a second he eased off the gas.
He saw Shadow’s red Mustang parked in front and could glimpse her inside at her desk, sunlight slashing in disrupted lines across her through the half-open wooden blinds. He wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. Wouldn’t trust himself. His sense of shock, anger and even loss was too great.
Grey kept going.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u995d0323-f33c-51bf-a6be-3f279ccd2c50)
“YOU DIDN’T GET your water heater fixed, Mama?” Shadow stared at her mother, who was stacking dishes and pots on the drain board at the sink.
“I couldn’t,” she replied.
On her way to the local rehab facility to visit an elderly client this morning, Shadow had stopped at the farm. This wasn’t something she did often, but after she’d last seen her mother, Shadow had put a check in the mail. Shadow couldn’t stop her mother from staying at the ramshackle farm where she’d lived much of her life. And if Wanda was determined to stay, Shadow wouldn’t see her without hot water. She didn’t have an appointment with her client, and he wasn’t expecting her, so she could stop in on him after this visit.
As she drove up the rutted driveway she’d tried not to notice the sorry state the place had fallen into—or rather, fallen deeper into. The henhouse now listed to one side as if it might tumble down at any moment, and the hole that some other animal had dug between its floor and the ground underneath was still there, possibly weakening the structure even more.
Her parents’ house looked no better now than the last time she’d come here. It was clean but that was all she could say about it. Even the curtain at the kitchen window—at one time a crisp, white dotted Swiss—now hung limply from the rod. The whole place depressed her.
Shadow sank onto a chair. “Why couldn’t you get it fixed, Mama?”
Shadow expected her to say the heater needed to be replaced, as she’d feared, but her mother wiped her hands on a dishtowel and said, “I had bills to pay. I needed milk and bread. The electric was overdue.”
Shadow picked at a spot on the red-and-white-checked vinyl tablecloth.
“What else did you do with the money I sent?”
Her mother sat across from her. “Derek needed help.”
At the mention of her youngest, and now only, brother, Shadow’s spirits dropped like a stone into a pond, creating ripples all through her body. “He’s still living with you? I thought he was finally getting a place in town.”
“That didn’t work out. He’s not ready to be on his own.”
Shadow tried to control her voice. “Derek is twenty-five years old. He needs to support himself—” Hearing footsteps in the hall, she broke off.
Her brother strolled in and Shadow wondered if he’d been there awhile, listening, but she hadn’t seen his car outside. She’d assumed he wasn’t home.
Wearing faded jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, Derek propped a shoulder against the doorframe. He crossed his feet at the ankles and grinned. “Thanks for the sisterly advice. I’ll take that into account next time I look for a job.”
Like their father, he was solidly built, though a darked scruff covered his cheeks and jaw. He’d also inherited their father’s light-blue eyes. Shadow had always found Derek’s eyes disconcerting, as if she might see straight into his brain and not like what she saw there. He’s my baby brother, she had to remind herself.
Wringing her hands, her mother rushed across the kitchen to pat Derek’s arm. “You children shouldn’t fight. We’re family.”
Shadow held her brother’s gaze. “What did you need money for?”
He shrugged. “Things.”
“I sent that check for Mama.”
Her mother’s mouth quivered. “Derek, Shadow. Please.”
“I’m sorry, but I hate to see my little brother follow in Daddy’s footsteps.”
He smirked. “You mean without a job? I make my own decisions.”
“Then you need to make better ones.” Shadow rose. Could she have said that of herself years ago? Or even approached Jenna in a different way only yesterday? She’d never actually abandoned Ava, but they were still apart for now and Shadow ached to be with her. Maybe she could have handled things better. She picked up her bag with a trembling hand. “The next time Mama needs help, I’ll drive her to the store. Pay right there for whatever she needs. I won’t let another dime pass from her hands to yours. Are we clear, Derek?”
He shot Shadow a sullen look. He hadn’t moved from the doorway. Shadow cautioned herself not to let this get any more out of hand than it already had. Derek wasn’t a bad person, but he was still immature in many ways, with a mother who never held him to account. She often treated him as if he were five years old and had been pushed down on a playground.
It was as if Jared’s shooting years ago had frozen Derek at fifteen and, shattered then, he had never finished growing up.
Despite their testy exchange, Shadow still wanted to somehow...save him, as if she could. But she needed to focus on Ava.
She pushed past Derek into the short hall that led to the front door. “I meant what I said about Mama. For now, until the water heater gets fixed, which I’ll pay for, you’ll have to take a few cold showers.”
* * *
WITH A CUP of coffee in one hand and juggling a paper bag in the other, Jenna called up the stairs. If Ava didn’t hurry, she’d miss the bus. With only a few days left in the school year, her niece’s motivation seemed to be lacking, and on such a blue-sky day Jenna knew she must already be thinking of playing with her friends all day at camp. Or, at least, that’s how it had been last summer and the summer before.
“Ava! The bus is turning the corner. Get a move on.”
A moment later, footsteps clattered down the stairs. Ava streaked into the front hall wearing a pair of patterned leggings and a bright blue tunic, and Jenna pushed her lunch bag into her hands. She wore her dark hair in a ponytail. Her eyes shone with determination.
“Why can’t I buy lunch? Like the other kids.”
“Because this is healthier for you. As a treat, I packed the chocolate pudding you like,” Jenna said in a tempting tone.
“I don’t like chocolate anymore.”
Ignoring the faint display of rebellion, Jenna kissed Ava’s forehead. There had been worse changes of heart lately from Ava, times when even Jenna had wondered at the wisdom of trying to parent Shadow’s child, even part-time—and part-time was the operative word now. Although Ava had always been a sweet girl, the preteen years were rapidly approaching.
“Don’t be a goose. Have a good day.”
“Last week,” Ava announced. “Then I’ll be a fourth grader.”
To her that must mean impending independence, but to Jenna it meant pulling away. And she hadn’t forgotten her talk with Shadow. In fact, that was all she’d thought about ever since.
The bus had stopped out front and Jenna stood in the doorway, watching the still-little girl she loved race toward it. Jenna waved at the driver. When she was satisfied that Ava was on the bus and safely in her seat, she turned back inside.
David stood there in his three-piece suit, briefcase in hand. Her husband shot a quick glance at the departing bus. Jenna wondered if he’d delayed leaving for the office to make sure he didn’t run into Ava this morning. She looked up into his serious gray-blue eyes then noticed the set of his mouth.
They’d talked well into the night again last night, and this morning he seemed as weary as she felt. Jenna had tossed and turned for hours, replaying her conversation with Shadow and considering David’s ambivalence, envisioning one emotional scene after another to come. All of them ended with Ava sitting in Shadow’s red Mustang as she backed out of the driveway with Ava’s suitcases in the trunk.
And Jenna’s heart shattered.
Setting her cup on the entry hall table, she smoothed a hand over her husband’s dark hair. He had it trimmed every two weeks at a high-end salon in Kansas City. In their suburban neighborhood Jenna used an equally pricey shop for her style, and she liked having nice things. She glanced down at her gray cashmere robe. She had no doubt he’d heard her exchange with Ava.
“What if she has to start school next fall in Barren instead of staying here?” she asked.
David eased away from her touch. “You know how I feel about that. Let’s not talk it to death.”
She followed him onto the porch. The morning air smelled sweet with the flowers that were beginning to bloom, not only in her yard but in others across their development. All around her were well-tended gardens and expensive homes like hers that were immaculate inside as well as out. No more falling-down house, no more chickens in the yard, even though having them was trendy now.
“I still can’t believe Shadow wants to take Ava.”
“Maybe three years with Ava was enough,” David said. “I know how much you like having her here, but Shadow’s right. She isn’t ours. We don’t have a legal leg to stand on—and I’m not sure I would want to if we did. I hope you won’t bring up the idea to adopt again. Shadow would never agree. And where’s the father? He has rights, too.” He turned on the top step. Jenna had never told David about Grey Wilson. That had been for Shadow to share, and she’d remained silent. “Enough of this, Jen.”
“But did she really think we wouldn’t become this close to Ava?”
“She’s a great kid, but she should be with her mother. You became too close.” He continued down the steps.
Yes, maybe she had, but other than getting out of her parents’ home years ago and making a new life for herself with David, the only thing she’d ever wanted was to be a mother. Nature had apparently decided that wasn’t to be—at least, until Ava had come to stay. Jenna didn’t want to lose her. She and David could provide far more than Shadow could, even now. Not that money made the difference. Ava was part of their family. It would break her heart to leave this house, her school, her friends...
Somehow, Jenna hoped to bring her lawyer husband around to her view.
There must be something they could do to keep Ava with them, at least for a while longer. Until she could help her niece accept the situation. Until Jenna got used to the idea of letting her go—if she ever could.
* * *
SHADOW GLANCED AT the sky. No wonder it looked so dark at the end of the day, the gathering clouds like an omen when only that morning the sun had been shining. She hadn’t seen Grey since she’d told him about Ava, or at least a small part, and she’d just stepped out of her office when she ran into him on the sidewalk.
“I was coming to see you,” he said. “I almost stopped yesterday but I wasn’t ready to talk again. Now I am.”
She held the bulky canvas envelope she carried closer. “I’m on my way to the bank. To make my weekly deposit.”
He frowned. “You should do that every day.” He cocked his head, viewing her from beneath the brim of his Stetson. “You shouldn’t leave cash in your office every night. If I were a thief, I’d wait for Thursday when the receipts would be highest from the week before your deposit on Friday. I’d clean you out. Voice of experience.” His scowl had deepened. “I got robbed.”
Shadow squeezed the envelope even tighter, as if the agency was, indeed, at risk. “Robbed?”
“Rustlers cleaned out half a dozen head the other night. Took off before I could get a look at their faces—three of ’em.”
She took another step. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had more trouble—”
“I need to talk to you, Shadow.” He looked around to make sure they were alone on the street. “Now. About...the baby.”
She took a few more steps, her back to him, and sensed him following. “After I do my banking, I have to interview several new caregivers then drive out to the rehab center. Ned Sutherland had a stroke a few weeks ago and he’s there now. I want to assess his situation.” Since she’d stopped at her mother’s house earlier and come back to town after her run-in with Derek, she hadn’t gone to see Ned when she intended. She knew she was babbling now. “He may need our services.”
“I see what you’re doing. In a way I don’t even blame you, but we’re going to talk. It can be wherever you like, but we will talk. I won’t be put off, Shadow.”
“Then I guess you’ve done your thinking,” she said.
She reached the main doors of the bank, leaving Grey to stand on the sidewalk, she assumed, but then he reached around from behind and caught the brass door pull, so close she could smell the soap he must have showered with that morning. “What happened after you went to Doc? And he gave you ‘options’?”
“As I said, I spent the night at his house.”
“Which option? You didn’t—” for a moment he couldn’t go on “—do something drastic?”
Shadow felt the blood drain from her face. That next morning, when she’d wakened at Doc’s house, she’d known what to do. She’d already begun to love Ava. “No,” she murmured, barely able to push out the words. “That choice might be right for some people but it wasn’t for me.”
She watched Grey relax. “Then, what option did you choose?”
Shadow hesitated. “I decided to give her up for adoption.”
Another look of alarm crossed his features. “So, she’s not...with you?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Let me tell you what I did after I left Doc’s then. You’re right, I was trying to stall because I don’t know how to say all this now, and you left my office before I could tell you.” She looked around. “Can we talk in your truck? I hate to stand here like this where anyone could see us.”
Grey nodded. He waited while she made her deposit then guided her to his silver pickup with a light hand at her lower back. Shadow felt his warmth through her summer dress. In that instant, she remembered other days and nights when they’d been inseparable, when she and Grey were in love, when she’d loved everything about him: his voice, his hands, his laughter, even the way he’d loved Wilson Cattle...because that told Shadow there was at least a different kind of family there, a different kind of home.
He sat against the driver’s door while she pressed against the passenger side. And tried to think how to begin. The direct way seemed best.
“Doc and I discussed my choices that next day. He encouraged me to do what I thought best for her and for me, but he didn’t pressure. You know he wouldn’t.” She studied the stores along Main Street, the bank, people passing by. “Please try to understand—I had no means of support, Grey, I hadn’t finished high school, I didn’t know how I could possibly care for a helpless baby when I could barely care for myself—Doc called his lawyer. We arranged a private adoption and I went to stay with the Merritts.”
“Where? I don’t recognize the name. Who were they?”
“A middle-aged couple, lovely people, who lived in Farrier. They still do. They agreed to pay all my expenses, the doctor there, the hospital...”
She told Grey about waking up there each morning, rolling over in bed in the sunny room she’d been given, feeling the baby kick against her palm. “When I saw a sonogram, I was able to make out fingers and toes and a snub nose. It was a little girl.” Shadow laid a hand over her stomach. “‘Good morning, Sunshine,’ I always told her.”
Grey’s mouth tightened. “You should have called me.”
“I still didn’t feel I could. I’d left home, my family, you...all my friends behind. My parents hadn’t changed their minds. The only people I saw were the Merritts and my obstetrician.”
She kept her gaze on her lap. “I was so lonely, but for the first time in my life I didn’t have to share a bed—except with the life growing inside me. She was so precious, but for her sake I knew I had to give her up.” She paused. “Every morning Mrs. Merritt called up the stairs that breakfast was ready. She was a wonderful cook.”
And every morning, still lying there for another few minutes, Shadow would cry softly into the blanket. Hormones, she’d thought. They were all over the place and she never knew which mood would come out next.
“They had no other children?”
“No, Mrs. Merritt was only forty but she couldn’t have her own babies. Neither can my sister Jenna, and I know how that hurts. If I couldn’t take care of my baby, I wanted to be happy that the Merritts would love and adore her.”
“I’m glad they were kind to you,” Grey said.
Shadow managed a smile. “Mrs. Merritt was so excited to have a baby. So was her husband. They couldn’t seem to do enough for me. After breakfast, Mrs. Merritt and I always took a walk around the neighborhood. They live in a nice area with old but well-kept houses and big green lawns for children to play on.”
They had really wanted her baby. Ava would have a good life with them, she’d told herself.
“What did they tell everyone else?”
“That I was their niece from upstate New York who’d come west because my pregnancy had worsened my lifetime asthma.” Shadow lifted her gaze. “That was ten years ago and Kansas is pretty traditional, or was then. Now we could probably tell everyone the truth.”
Shadow paused to steady her voice. She couldn’t tell Grey that every day she’d thought that if Jared hadn’t died, if she and Grey hadn’t broken up and her father hadn’t turned his back on her, maybe she and Grey would have woken each morning together, talked about their baby in low, happy tones. At times she’d yearned so much for that, she almost couldn’t breathe, as if she really did have asthma.
But, instead, in the view of many, he had killed her brother, and Shadow still had her own doubts. Was Grey innocent, as he claimed? Or guilty? Certainly she’d resented the fact that Grey had gone back to finish college as if nothing had happened, that he would take over his father’s ranch...marry someone else. She was still surprised that he never had.
“So, after the baby was born...” His gaze flickered. “Where is she now?”
Shadow swallowed. “In school, staying at my sister Jenna’s.”
“You didn’t give her up,” he said, looking more than surprised.
“No,” she murmured.
His mouth had that stubborn set she’d seen so many times before. “Then I want to see her,” he said in a tone that didn’t allow for her refusal.
“Grey, I’ll need to talk to her first. We can’t just show up and say, ‘Hi, honey, this is your father.’”
He frowned. “I didn’t exactly plan to do it that way.”
She glanced at the darkening sky again. The thunderheads looked close enough to touch now. And a little frisson of doubt ran through her. If only Jared wasn’t gone and she and Grey were still together. If only she could believe, like Blossom and Logan now, in happy endings and having the family she still yearned for.
With Ava home again, maybe she would. But that family didn’t include Grey.
The first drops of rain began to fall. Soon the sky would open up, and unless she moved, they would still be here, eye to eye, at odds with each other.
Shadow said, “I’ve been planning to bring her back to Barren—but to introduce you that abruptly? No,” she said again. “That’s not in her best interest.”
His voice was close to a growl. “I think it is. You’ve had nine years, Shadow. She’s my daughter, too—and you’ve lied to me. All this time. No more.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#u995d0323-f33c-51bf-a6be-3f279ccd2c50)
SHADOW HAD CUT short her work hours several days ago after she’d told Grey about Ava then gone to see Blossom. After talking with her mother and Derek, she’d meant to visit her client at the rehab center, but instead went back to the office. Then she’d told Grey about Doc and the Merritts and fallen even further behind. She needed to catch up. However, earlier today, she’d finally called Blossom to say she could be in the wedding if Blossom still wanted her. Even to avoid Grey, she couldn’t disappoint Blossom. How many true friends does a person have? To be honest, she also felt guilty about him.
He was right. For too many years she’d kept Ava from Grey. The least she could do was stand with him while their mutual friends got married, a happy ending she couldn’t picture for herself. Other than that she didn’t know how to atone for what she’d done. To Ava, too.
Clearly, she’d made mistakes. Had it been easier to go about her life with Ava in Kansas City and Shawnee Mission rather than face Grey? If she’d never come back to Barren, would she ever have told him? She’d always planned to—at some point—but the opportunity never seemed to arise, and she’d tried to tell herself maybe that was for the best, that Grey had his own life without her. Now she knew that had been another error on her part. What if he’d simply run into Ava somewhere? She couldn’t risk that.
Today, as the next step before he met her, she was going to see Ava. She wouldn’t mention Grey just yet, although Ava had asked about her father over the years. Shadow had always kept it vague, telling Ava he couldn’t be part of their lives but that, of course, he loved her. Another reason to feel guilty now.
But first, after dealing with the morning emails and texts at the office, she had an appointment at the rehabilitation center to finally check on Ned Sutherland, the elderly rancher who had suffered a stroke. Shadow had provided a caregiver for him before that and he would probably need one again.
“You’re doing well, Mr. Sutherland. When do you expect to go home?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. Their visit had been punctuated by long silences and the obvious frustration she saw in his weathered face. His speech halting, Ned covered his first stumbling attempt to speak with a discreet cough.
“I...go...prob’ly next...week.” His mouth leaned a little to the right and he gripped his weak hand in his lap with the other. The staff here had done their work, though. They’d gotten him on his feet and walking again, although he seemed to prefer staying in his room. That wasn’t good. He needed cheering up.
Shadow had found him sitting by the window, his bony shoulders slumped, looking out toward the babbling brook on the lush green property. Several rough wooden benches were arranged along the bank for patients to enjoy the view and listen to the rushing water. For a man who’d spent most of his life outdoors on a horse or a tractor, like Logan’s grandfather Sam—like Grey—Ned’s enforced confinement had likely been more than difficult.
“You’ll be back in the saddle before you know it,” Shadow said, leaning down to pat his joined hands. He had bowed his head over them, the circle of bare scalp at his crown, which was normally covered by his hat, appearing larger than before. In the past months, the rest of his hair had gone from gray to snowy white. She bent her knees to peer into his weary dark eyes. “I’m sorry I missed seeing your granddaughter today, but please tell her I said hi.”
“I...will.” He blinked up at her. “Nice place...but I’m pretty homesick.”
“I don’t blame you.” When she straightened, Shadow glanced down and saw the well-broken-in boots on his feet. Those he hadn’t left behind. Putting the bouquet of yellow freesias she’d brought for him in a pretty blue vase on his nightstand, she said, “Enjoy those magazines. Keep your chin up, Mr. Sutherland. I’ll check on you again the next time I’m here.”

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