Home Free
Claire McEwen
His first taste of freedom was only the beginning…Arch Hoffman has paid for his crimes. All he wants is to come home to rural California and start over. He's not looking to be a hero when he rescues a wedding cake from hitting the dirt at the ranch next door. But culinary artist Mandy Allen's irresistible smile makes him glad to save the day—and thankful that they're neighbors.Mandy's just the distraction Arch needs. Her sweet voice quiets the memories that threaten his chance to be a better man, and he's determined to help her confront her fears. But the past is its own prison, and even love might not be enough to set them free.
His first taste of freedom was only the beginning...
Arch Hoffman has paid for his crimes. All he wants is to come home to rural California and start over. He’s not looking to be a hero when he rescues a wedding cake from hitting the dirt at the ranch next door. But culinary artist Mandy Allen’s irresistible smile makes him glad to save the day—and thankful that they’re neighbors.
Mandy’s just the distraction Arch needs. Her sweet voice quiets the memories that threaten his chance to be a better man, and he’s determined to help her confront her fears. But the past is its own prison, and even love might not be enough to set them free.
“Arch, wait!”
He turned, surprised, and saw Mandy hurrying after him. In her hand was a plate filled with an enormous slice of cake. He started back toward her, admiring how elegant she looked in that wine-colored dress.
“Here.” She held out the plate. “You saved it from falling. You earned a slice.” She was a little out of breath, as if she’d jogged, cake and all, to catch him.
He tried to remember the last time someone had reached out to him like this to show him a kindness. He couldn’t. “You’re a good person.” He blurted it out like an awkward kid. He had no experience with generosity.
“I just made a whole lot of wedding cake.” Her smile was fleeting, but kind.
“Well, this will make the walk home a whole lot better.”
There was silence while they looked at each other. He needed to let her get back to her sister’s wedding. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. Thanks for sticking up for me back there.”
“Of course.” She took a step back and waved. “Welcome home, Arch.”
Dear Reader (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3),
Sometimes the best way to find a story is to ask a simple two-word question. What if? Those two words were how Home Free came to be.
When I first thought about the Sierra Legacy series, I planned just two books—the stories of Nora and Wade Hoffman. But then that tricky what-if question popped into my mind. What if one of the older Hoffman brothers didn’t flee to Mexico after all? What if he made another choice? And most of all, what if he came home again?
I couldn’t resist answering those questions. So now I offer you Arch Hoffman’s story. At first I was nervous to write it. How could I make someone who’d done such terrible things into the hero of a romance novel? But as I got to know Arch, I came to love him, and I hope you do, too. He’s served his time, paid his dues and is ready to start his life again. But he quickly learns that freedom means a lot more than just walking through the prison gates. It’s something he’ll fight for every day.
And the woman who steals his heart? She’s been trapped in a different kind of prison, with thick, stifling walls of loss, fear and doubt. Meeting Arch changes everything. Love changes everything. It might even have the power to set them both free.
Thank you for giving Arch a chance. I hope you enjoy Home Free.
Claire McEwen
PS: If you would like to learn more about organizations that help people adjust to life after prison, please visit the Resources page on my website, clairemcewen.com (http://www.clairemcewen.com). I love hearing from readers, so please stop by the Contact page while you’re there if you’d like to connect on social media or via email.
Home Free
Claire McEwen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CLAIRE McEWEN lives by the ocean in Northern California with her husband, son and a scruffy, mischievous terrier, whose unique looks and goofy hijinks provided inspiration for an important character in Return to Marker Ranch. When not dreaming up new stories, Claire can be found digging in her garden with a lot of enthusiasm but, unfortunately, no green thumb. She loves discovering flea-market treasures, walking on the beach, dancing, traveling and reading, of course! Claire enjoys Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, and likes musing about writing and all things romantic on her blog, Romance All Around Us. Please visit her website, clairemcewen.com (http://www.clairemcewen.com), for more information.
For anyone who has to overcome the past so they can reach for the future.
And for my sisters.
Contents
Cover (#u1b5a38cf-52dd-5f5e-8c06-7c71ce130dc1)
Back Cover Text (#u937d6134-5d91-5124-baaa-67296c19c074)
Introduction (#u18112a3a-4c4e-59f2-a5d8-5700f050e6d9)
Dear Reader (#u161681fa-d380-5aff-aa08-59bfb3ee0c44)
Title Page (#uf4c75277-95d9-53f9-9017-ef540620cb92)
About the Author (#uf0160ec7-6d0c-5b5c-b5d2-14ebb3f6a3dc)
Dedication (#ub0621967-9444-5a37-9817-e957c8b5f47b)
CHAPTER ONE (#ud10b33bc-3501-5386-8e82-454e0a8414d6)
CHAPTER TWO (#u2831e307-d84d-59e3-bb32-d17fc55fea39)
CHAPTER THREE (#u4f29d6a5-4bf0-558a-b856-5b89f29b3fb5)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ued4112d9-76c4-585c-a426-dd17f2894248)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ud8d4a91a-e876-5402-9668-49684fc907d6)
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)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3)
WHEN MANDY ALLEN planned her sister’s perfect wedding, she never imagined crying alone in their ranch house kitchen with only the wedding cake for company. But those were definitely tears sliding down her cheeks. And if they didn’t stop soon, mascara would stripe her face like a zebra’s. Mandy dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron, appalled by the black smudges. Self-pity never looked good on anyone.
The problem wasn’t the cake. That was her masterpiece, despite the anxiety that had almost kept her from finishing it. Anxiety that crackled and fizzed like a bad-reception radio set to her own personal self-doubt channel, reminding her that she’d never done this kind of baking before. What if it was a disaster? What if it tasted terrible? What if it looked terrible?
But thankfully, her anxiety was unfounded. The cake wasn’t terrible. In fact, it was beautiful. The three tiers, cream colored and painted with chocolate icing, delicately detailed scenes of horses, cattle, even the high Sierra peaks that rose behind their ranch.
The problem wasn’t the wedding, either. The old barn looked magical decorated with garlands and fairy lights. The guests had just finished Mandy’s specially seasoned barbecue with all the fixings. Now they were drinking, dancing, whooping it up.
Nor was the problem seeing her dad for the first time in over a year, with his new wife on his arm, relaxed and happy with his life under the Florida sun.
The problem was that everything around her was changing. Everyone was changing. Everyone except Mandy. She was as stuck as a truck in a high desert wash. Lost. Mired. And she had no idea how to dig herself out and get moving again.
The chime of the hall clock sliced through thoughts as sticky as bread dough. She had to get the cake to the reception. There’d be plenty of time after the guests had gone home to stuff her head in the pity pot.
She picked up the tiny fondant cowboy boots she’d made, pink for Lori and brown for Wade. Placing the boots on top of the cake, she tilted them so they leaned on each other. Perfect, for the perfect couple.
She grabbed her camera and snapped a few pictures. With luck, photos of this cake would convince other couples to hire her to bake their wedding cakes.
And then it hit her. In her stress over the cake, she’d forgotten how big it was. And how heavy. How would she get it to the barn?
Her anxiety switched back on, hissing and popping in waves that rolled right through her stomach. Why had she assembled the cake here? She should have taken it to the reception in separate layers. Why hadn’t she thought this through more carefully?
But the cake was finished, looking elegant on Mama’s old silver tray, so there was no going back. Stop worrying. It’s just a cake. Don’t be scared about carrying a cake.
She yanked off her apron. Smoothed down the skirt of her bridesmaid dress. Slid the tray to the edge of the table.
Nothing on the cake even jiggled. It was rock solid. She lifted the tray and baby stepped to the screen door, pushing it open with her hip. A few more steps and she was through the door and down the porch stairs. The hard part was done.
Mandy started down the packed-dirt road that led to the barn. No problem. Like walking on a sidewalk. She imagined Lori’s face when she saw the cake. Her wedding-day smile would grow even bigger.
The sharp snick of breaking branches froze Mandy’s limbs. It seemed to come from a thicket of scrubby willows about fifty yards ahead of her. A bear? Not today. Not now when she was all alone carrying a massive hunk of sugar, a bear’s favorite treat. The shrub shook, there was a crackling noise, and Mandy’s heart just about stopped when something burst out of the thick tangle.
Not a bear, thank goodness, but a miniature donkey that shook its head and looked around. It was gray and fuzzy and it didn’t belong here. It must be another stray. People were always dumping their unwanted animals on her doorstep. Her heart kicked up a beat.
The donkey spotted her, long ears flicking forward. Mandy made her voice as stern as she could. “Shoo!”
It obviously didn’t know the meaning of the word, because it broke into a toy-pony gallop, heading straight toward her. It looked so happy, but Mandy’s heart shifted into overdrive. “Shoo!”
The donkey sped up. Mandy swiftly stepped back and to the side of the lane, lifting the tray chest-high. It would be okay. The donkey was going to miss her...
But the donkey slammed against her hip as it careened by, spinning Mandy around in a staggering circle. She clutched the tray in desperation as it tilted and teetered.
“Hang on!” A man’s voice broke through her grasping panic. She caught a glimpse of him, sprinting from the direction of the house. In a split second he was there, reaching to catch her fall.
“Not me!” she managed. “The cake!”
Hands shot out. “Let go! I’ve got it!”
She opened her fingers and surrendered to fate and gravity, pitching backward, landing hard, butt, shoulders, head, all hitting the dirt before she rolled once. Stomach to the ground, cheek in the dust, she stared one-eyed at the grass by the lane and the bright October sky beyond. Ouch.
“Are you all right?”
The urgency in the man’s voice had her automatically reassuring him. “I’m okay. Scraped, but okay.” Then her mind lurched from survival to reality. The man. The cake. Oh, God, the cake! She closed her eyes, afraid to look. Her sister’s wedding cake. Smashed in the dirt.
“Your cake is okay, too.”
His words were small pieces of a miracle. How was it even possible? Mandy pushed herself up to sitting, every part of her stiff, shaky and stinging.
The dark-haired man was on one knee, as if he was about to propose. And in his arms, perfectly upright, perfectly intact, was her perfect cake.
Mandy stared at him, wondering if she’d fallen right into some kind of fairy tale. Because only in stories did someone this handsome show up out of nowhere and save the day. He even had the wavy black hair of a fairy-tale prince.
Holy cow, she was staring at him like a possum at a flashlight. She scrambled to her feet, brushing at her hands and elbows, trying to ignore all the throbbing and stinging. “Thank you!” Her throat was pebbled with gratitude, tumbling the words out ragged as she leaned over and lifted the tray from his outstretched hands. “I can’t believe you saved it!”
“My pleasure.” He rose from the dirt. And rose. And rose. There had to be over six feet of him.
“It was a really good catch.” She sounded like a kid meeting a sports hero, all awestruck. But he was overwhelming. Each piece of him, from his height to the sharp cheekbones that slashed across his angular face, was larger than average. He was hard to take in all at once. And he’d saved her cake.
He looked down at her, eyes shadowed under dark brows. His voice was low pitched, the gentle edge a surprise in such a big man. “That was quite a fall. Are you hurt?”
“I expect so.” She knew so, but there was no time to deal with it now. She’d break out the first aid kit once she got the cake to the reception.
“Your arm is bleeding.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. There was a fast-food logo on it. “Why don’t you let me hold the cake for a minute?”
She hesitated. “You’ll be careful, right?”
“Very.” He set the napkin on the edge of the tray. Then he took the cake from her easily, as if it weighed nothing.
Mandy picked up the napkin and pressed it to her elbow, surprised when blood bloomed through it. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re messy. That’s different.” His slight smile was kind. “There’s dust on your dress, near the hem. Can you brush it off? And you’ve got some grass in your hair, too.”
She threaded fingers through her hair and found the dry blades. “Ugh. This isn’t what I had in mind when I planned this wedding.”
“You’re a wedding planner?”
Mandy bit back a laugh, remembering the stress of the past weeks. “Far from it. It’s my sister’s wedding day and I wanted everything to be perfect for her. Left on her own, she would have gotten married on a break between ranch chores.” The last of the adrenaline from her fall drained away, and Mandy’s voice bumped against her throat. “I’m just so grateful you came along.”
“You’re the first person who’s said that to me in a mighty long time.”
Something rough in his voice drew her glance, but he looked away. There was an awkward pause as she tried to figure out the meaning behind his words. She settled for brushing the dust off her dress as best she could. She was a wreck. It didn’t help that she’d been awake most of the past forty-eight hours cooking for the wedding.
“I wouldn’t have dropped it, except that darn donkey...” She looked around. The animal was nowhere to be seen. “There was a donkey...”
“I saw it go by. I think it’s over by the house somewhere.”
So she wasn’t having some kind of stress-induced hallucination. That was good news. “It’s just going to have to stay there, then. I have to get this to the reception.” She realized suddenly that he wasn’t dressed for a wedding. Unless Levi’s and a tight black T-shirt were formal wear for him. “You’re a guest?”
He hesitated. “Actually, I’m not.”
“Oh!” Her brain felt scrambled. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than she realized. “I’m sorry, I assumed... Can I help you with something?”
“To be honest, I didn’t know there was a wedding. I came by because someone in town told me my brother might be here. He’s your neighbor. Wade Hoffman?”
Mandy’s breath caught on the dark lump of dread settling below her sternum. “You’re Wade’s brother?” Wade had two brothers. Both criminals, both on the run.
“My name’s Arch Hoffman. I haven’t been back to Benson for a long time.”
She knew why he hadn’t been around town. If the rumors were true, he’d been hiding out in Mexico with his brother and father to escape criminal charges for theft, drug dealing and God knew what else. Mandy forced her shaking hands to steady. She glanced in the direction of the barn. The music was loud and she was still pretty far away. Would anyone hear her if she screamed for help?
“I guess you’ve heard of me.”
Blast. Her fear must be easy to see. “I have, a bit,” she admitted. She stole a peek at him. He didn’t look like a criminal. But that was how the Hoffman brothers had always worked, wasn’t it? A layer of charm smeared over cunning and crime. Like icing piled up to hide a fallen cake. “Your brother is marrying my sister today.”
He stopped. “You’re kidding. My little brother’s getting married? Today?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I haven’t spoken to my brother in over ten years.”
She couldn’t think how to answer such weighted words. “Well, I guess we should go find him.” Though she didn’t look forward to ruining Wade’s wedding day.
“That would be great. And I’d be happy to carry your cake for you.”
“Thanks.” They walked, Mandy brushing her skirts and trying to rearrange her hair as they went. But as the barn got closer, her worries got bigger. If Arch strolled into the wedding, all Mandy’s attempts to make the celebration perfect would be ruined. Upstaged by the inevitable gossip about Arch’s exploits and wrongs.
“I’ve got lousy timing, huh?” His quiet words echoed her thoughts.
She was suddenly too tired to be kind. “You do.”
“I won’t mess up the party. You can trust me.”
Ha. From all she’d heard over the years, Arch Hoffman was about as trustworthy as a bear in the beehives. She stayed silent, but he seemed intent on making conversation.
“So you made this cake yourself? These pictures on the sides and everything?”
She heard the note of forced cheer in his voice and felt selfish, all of a sudden, for worrying about the wedding. He was estranged from his family. This couldn’t be an easy moment for him.
“Yes.”
“And you’re really gonna let my little brother chop this up? It’s a work of art. Seems like you should put it in some kind of cake museum.”
It was just flattery, but it warmed her anyway. “I don’t think they have those. I did take photos, though.”
“I sure hope so. Are you a baker?”
“I have a small business. Just here on the ranch, using our kitchen. I make pies, muffins, cupcakes, things like that. This is my first wedding cake.”
He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to admire it from the side. “I guarantee that once folks see it, it won’t be your last.”
“That’s what I hope.” Mandy felt the words release into the air like fluttering doves. She’d never said it aloud before. How much she wanted to expand her business. Or go to school. Or apprentice somewhere. To pursue her dreams. But just knowing the words were out had her heart stuttering. Anxiety never stayed away for long.
They were almost to the barn, approaching from the side. Mandy could hear the hum of guests talking and laughing. The DJ was playing that old song “Achy Breaky Heart.” Probably half the crowd was doing the classic line dance.
She wasn’t great at speaking her mind, but if there ever was a time to get over that, it was now. She forced herself to look right at Arch, the heat rising from her cheek in waves so thick it almost clouded her vision. “I don’t think you should come in.”
“You sure about that? Because it would make their wedding day truly memorable. Folks around here would be talking about it for a long time to come.”
Horrified, she almost protested but then saw how his smile tipped down at the corners. “You’re being sarcastic.”
“I may not have spent a minute of my life in good company, but I know enough not to crash my brother’s wedding.”
He was saying exactly what she wanted to hear, but it hurt her heart. What must it be like to know you weren’t welcome at your own brother’s reception? Of course, he’d brought it on himself, but there was something in her that could never stand to leave a fellow creature out in the cold. Which was why she had way too many strays on this ranch, she reminded herself. And she’d be a fool to make Arch Hoffman one of them. “Thank you for helping me carry the cake.” She reached for the tray and took its weight carefully. “What will you do?”
For the first time since he’d shown up like a miracle and caught the cake, he looked uncertain. “I’ll figure something out.”
She knew the stories. She knew he’d committed crimes and raised hell when he lived around here. But he’d helped her beyond measure today. And now he needed help. “Look, Wade and Lori are leaving for their honeymoon right after the reception. They’ll be gone for a few weeks. If you need to speak with your brother, now’s the time.”
Arch looked over her head toward the barn door. “I can’t walk in there.”
“No, you can’t.” She paused, willing her tired brain to think. “Can you wait awhile? Maybe forty-five minutes? Let them cut the cake and have another dance or two. Then I’ll send Wade to talk to you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” But the relief in his eyes said the opposite.
“Of course I do,” she assured him. “It’s the right thing.”
“And you’re someone who does the right thing.”
His words had all the old guilt and regret knotting in her stomach. Tears pricked. Her mom should be here today, seeing Lori marry. Maybe if Mandy had done the right thing all those years ago, that would be possible.
“Whoa.” Arch’s hands took hold of the opposite side of the tray, steadying it. “I said the wrong thing. Damn, I’m sorry, I...” He broke off.
“No, it’s okay.” Damn was right. When would she learn to control the feelings that lived just under her skin?
“Hey, here’s a thought. You deliver this cake and I’ll go look for that mysterious donkey of yours before it causes any more trouble.”
The donkey. She’d forgotten about it. Her worries over the cake and this magnetic man had wiped that responsibility from her memory. “I’d so appreciate that. If you find him, he can go in with the goat. There’s a small paddock behind the other barn, further down this lane.”
“Right.” He squared his shoulders. A task was probably just what he needed right now to get his mind off his troubles. “Hope that goat is ready for a new roommate.”
“She’ll have to make do. She was dropped off here just last week.”
His grin softened all the angles of his face. “You must have a reputation for being a softie.”
Mandy couldn’t help but smile back. “I think you’re right.”
“Why so many strays?”
“It’s getting worse with the drought. Ranches are downsizing. People are losing jobs. I never thought I’d be running an animal shelter.” She felt her smile fade. “It breaks my heart. Especially when a dog shows up. They seem so lost and confused when they’re abandoned.”
“The world could use more people like you. I can see that already.”
Her skin warmed again. She wasn’t used to being noticed. “Thanks. I’d better head into the barn. See you soon?”
“As soon as I find that donkey.” Arch walked away with a lanky stride that covered ground with zero effort. The guy was a giant. And in his faded jeans and that T-shirt, he was gravity for the eyes. Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. But he was also Arch Hoffman.
And he’d just turned back to her. And said something.
“What?” She blinked. He’d caught her staring. At his backside.
“You sure you’re okay? After that fall?”
“Yes.” A squeaky syllable was all she could manage. She’d been ogling him.
“So head in there and show off that cake. It’s something to be proud of.”
Surprise, gratitude, relief. He could have mentioned her staring at him. Instead he’d given her a compliment. He was nice. Arch Hoffman, the car-stealing, drug-dealing, bad-boy legend of Benson, California, was kind of nice. “Thanks, Arch,” Mandy called softly.
She turned toward the entrance to the barn, stepping carefully through the wide double doors with the oohs and aahs of appreciation rising in gratifying waves around her. She shoved all of her worries about Arch Hoffman’s arrival to the side of her mind. He’d just have to wait. This was her sister’s moment, and Wade’s moment. A moment of sheer happiness, meant to be savored like the perfect wedding cake she held in her hands.
CHAPTER TWO (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3)
THERE WAS NO sign of the renegade donkey. Arch scanned the dry lawn in front of the ranch house that looked just like it should. Historic, its wood siding painted white and perfectly maintained. The cushioned rocking chairs on the front porch looking so comfortable he wanted to sink into one and sleep. For months.
Freedom was the best thing to ever happen to him, and the most exhausting. Crazy how much the world could change in a decade. Or maybe it was him that had changed, ten years stuck in the prison time warp, now out and wandering lost between who he’d been and who he hoped to become.
Which had led him here. To this hometown he didn’t want to come home to. To this low place, begging help from a brother who hated him. And now on this fool’s errand, to retrieve a miniature donkey who clearly didn’t want to be found.
But no way was he giving up. Because catching that cake had meant something more than just a lucky save. It was one of the few times in his life that he’d done something besides try to save his own skin. And the look of gratitude in that pretty woman’s eyes had warmed his chest and thawed something there. If she could look at him that way, maybe he finally had a chance at being a better man than he’d been before. He’d do a lot to get her to look at him like that again.
Arch rounded the house and spotted a rope draped over a railing near the back door. Coiling it, he looked around. It was quiet here behind the house. A small patch of grass ran into an orchard off to his right. There were a few apples still hanging from the trees, and he picked one. Donkey bait.
To his left was a stand of pines. He walked toward them, suddenly needing their wholesome scent. He closed his eyes to better hear the hiss of wind though their branches. The sound ran soothing hands over his skin. He’d imagined this in prison. Funny how something he’d never appreciated when he lived around here became something he longed for once he was locked in a cell.
A huff of breath broke his reverie. Arch opened his eyes, homing in on where the sound came from.
The donkey’s knee-high nose peeked out from behind one of the pines. It was probably terrified. Maybe only just abandoned here. That would explain why it charged past that woman in such a panic.
That woman. It wasn’t right to call someone so beautiful such everyday words. But he hadn’t asked her name. He guessed she had to be one of the Allens. They’d owned this ranch, Lone Mountain Ranch, forever. He’d grown up just down the road, but he didn’t recall ever meeting her. She was clearly several years younger than him. Probably still a kid when he’d left.
She was all grown up now, but she was tiny. With her slight frame, her golden curls, her wide blue eyes the color of the sky over the mountains, all she’d need was a pair of wings to be Peter Pan’s fairy pal. Tinker Bell. That suited her.
He inched a step closer to the donkey. “C’mon, little dude.” Arch kept his voice quiet, just above a breath. “Let’s get you back home.”
The tiny animal huffed out a breath and disappeared behind the tree. Arch knelt, like he would with a dog, and held out the apple. The donkey peered around the pine again, its internal war of curiosity and caution apparent in its flicking ears. Finally one long ear tipped forward. Then the other. Curiosity and the promise of a treat won out. The donkey minced up on dainty hooves, blowing and snuffing at Arch’s knuckles, and reached for the apple.
One slow, careful motion and Arch had the rope around its neck. While the donkey crunched the apple, Arch tied one end of the rope like a collar. Not ideal, but the little guy had no halter on.
Then Arch brought his free hand up to pet the soft fur of the animal’s neck. After a few moments, he felt the donkey’s muscles relax. It swallowed the apple and eyed a distant grass tuft longingly. Arch rose, leading it to the grass for a nibble. He could see its ribs when it moved. Rage rose up, pumping his blood faster, worrying in its power. Keep it in perspective. Yes, someone had been cruel to this helpless animal. That didn’t mean it was Arch’s job to find him and beat the shit out of him. No matter how much he’d like to.
Not his job. He had one focus, and he needed to keep it. To find work. Something he could believe in. Something he could lose himself in so he didn’t get lost again.
“C’mon, now.” Arch tugged on the rope, but the donkey planted its sturdy legs and stood its ground, devouring the grass like it was the last food he’d ever see. “I’m sure Tinker Bell has better stuff than that.” The donkey flicked a suspicious glance his way and kept on grazing.
Arch hated to pull any harder on the rope around its neck. The donkey wasn’t much bigger than a dog, so he knelt and scooped it up instead. It struggled, catching him on the thigh with a sharp hoof, but Arch managed to stagger with it over to the apple tree. He set it down, grabbed a couple more apples off the branch and waved one in front of the donkey’s nose.
“C’mon, Shrimp. I’ve got to get back to the barn.” Shrimp seemed like a good name for the little guy. Didn’t shrimps just float around and eat? Biting a piece off the apple, Arch held it out as a lure to get the donkey walking. It worked like magic. Shrimp trotted willingly at his side, as long as Arch provided a bite of apple every so often.
Arch tried to keep his distance from the reception, sticking close to the pines that bordered the ranch. He spotted a more modern-looking barn down the lane. Shrimp’s new digs should be behind it.
Music and laughter from the party floated through the warm afternoon air. A couple walked out of the reception, cake plates and champagne glasses in hand. They toasted each other with a clink of their glasses. Arch pulled Shrimp behind a pine to stay out of view, surprised by the envy hollowing his chest. What would it be like to be those people? Invited to nice parties like this, dressed in good clothes, confident that you were a decent person who knew how to behave?
He breathed in, relaxing the jealous ache until it was dull and heavy. Easier to live with. Regret wouldn’t get him anywhere. Envy didn’t help, either. He was who he was, and he’d done what he’d done. He had to accept that and go forward, grateful for a second chance. But the sense that he wouldn’t make it, that the world was written in a language he’d never learn to speak, hung in the air around him. It was a relief to spot the goat pen, to lead Shrimp inside, to remove the rope and leave the tiny donkey munching on a big pile of oat hay.
It was good to accomplish a solid, everyday task. A nice breather before he set out to do the impossible—convince his brother to let him stay awhile on their family ranch.
The goat and donkey seemed to be getting along fine. Arch took a breath that came out shaky on the exhalation. It was time to face his past. He started back toward the wedding and saw Wade almost immediately. He was standing next to a woman Arch recognized after a moment’s study. His sister, Nora. Of course she’d be here, too, and she hated him even more than Wade did.
His siblings waited alongside the wooden barn, out of view of the guests. Tinker Bell stood with them, her hands hidden in her skirts, fingers nervously rustling the fabric. No one spoke as he approached.
Silence was awkward, but it gave him a moment to take them both in. Wade had been a boy when Arch had last seen him. Now he was tall and strong in a black suit and cowboy boots, his dark hair cut close to his head. His face was a tangle of grim lines that didn’t belong at his wedding celebration.
Nora’s arms were folded across her chest like body armor. Her eyes were gray shadows, watchful. She moved closer to Wade. She’d been fiercely protective of their little brother, standing up to Arch time and again to keep him from dragging Wade along on whatever deal he had going. She was clearly still ready to protect him, even with Wade grown and married. “What the hell are you doing here, Arch?”
The venom in her voice stopped him in his tracks. “Asking for help.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no, we are not sheltering you. I don’t know why you left Mexico, but you need to get on back there. And with no help from us.”
“I’m not coming from Mexico.” Words started and stopped in Arch’s head. He hadn’t planned this out well. He should have had some kind of speech prepared.
“I don’t care where you’ve been. You shouldn’t be here.” Her words cracked like gunfire across the yards between them.
Finally Wade stirred. “Let’s listen to him, Nora. It can’t hurt to listen.”
It was disconcerting, hearing Wade’s voice so deep and sure. Arch cleared his throat. Fortunately, ten years in prison had schooled him in keeping feelings at bay. This was his chance, and he needed to get it right. “I never went to Mexico. I got as far as San Diego with Dad and Blake. I left them there.”
His sister and brother stared at him in stunned silence. Tinker Bell seemed to come out of whatever trance she’d been in and stepped back a few feet. “I should go. I’m intruding.”
He didn’t want her to go. She was like a beam of light he could focus on in this dark moment. “Stay? Please?”
Three sets of eyes widened at his odd request.
“Only if you want to...” Arch added. “If you’re willing to.”
She studied him, and then nodded slightly. Her gaze jumped to Nora.
“It’s okay, Mandy,” Nora said. “We’re family—though you may be regretting that fact right now.”
“No regrets.” Her simple answer was a tiny oasis in this complicated moment.
Mandy. Arch held on to the name, tucked it away into his mind to think about later. “Thanks,” he told her. And used all that gold—of her hair, of her radiant skin—as the courage he needed to keep talking. “When I left here with Dad and Blake, I was already sick of them. It was terrible, the things we did. I knew by then that my whole life had become one big mistake. Down in San Diego, they robbed a guy at gunpoint. A decent guy—just your average working man. He had a wife and his little kid with him.”
Arch cleared his throat, balled his shaking hands into fists. Saw the encouraging look on Mandy’s face and inhaled it like the oxygen that seemed to have disappeared from the air around him. “I saw myself clearly, in the fear in their eyes. That man, brought down in front of his family. The terror on his wife’s face. She pulled her little boy into her stomach and just held him so close...” He had to stop again. Being in their presence, seeing the disgust in his brother’s and sister’s eyes, and the horror and sorrow on Mandy’s face, cracked all the walls he’d built to hold back the guilt.
He pushed himself on. “In that moment, everything changed. I couldn’t stand what I saw. What I’d become. I left Dad and Blake that night. Never said goodbye. Just went to a bar, had one last beer, then walked to the ocean to touch the water. To breathe in that fresh air one last time. Then I found a police station and turned myself in.”
The icy edge had thawed from Nora’s gaze. Her jaw, so set, relaxed a fraction. “We didn’t know. Why didn’t you write?”
His laugh was a bitter syllable. “And say what? You hated me. For good reason. I’d spent every day making your life miserable. You were better off rid of me.”
He saw the memories cloud Nora’s eyes. He wished he could do something, work hard enough, beg hard enough, to erase them for her. Their dad’s hand crashing down across her face. Him, the numb bastard he’d been, doing nothing. Daddy’s little henchman. Shame shoved the bile to the back of his throat.
“And now?” Wade stepped in front of Nora, sheltering her with his body, as if he could keep those memories from overwhelming her. “What’s happening with you now?”
Arch heard the real question. Did you escape? “I’m out. Legally. I did my time, almost ten years of it, and got released a couple months ago. I tried to get work down in Southern California, but no one wants to hire someone who answers ‘yes’ to the felony question on their job application.”
“So you’re here for money?” Wade slid a hand into his suit jacket. “I’ve got cash. You can take it and go.”
Arch closed his eyes against the shame. It filled his veins, pushing on his skin, making it feel too tight. “It’s not money. My parole officer helped me get assistance from the government. I receive a check each month.”
He watched them all look down and away. He got it. It was hard to look himself in the mirror when he thought about it.
“Look, being out in the world, after so long in prison, it’s overwhelming. Ten years when you’re not allowed to make choices and suddenly everything is a choice. What to eat, what to wear, what to do. Everything moves fast out in the world, and it’s all random. No schedule. Not like in jail.”
He paused, looking at Mandy and Wade, willing them to understand. If they did, maybe they’d sway Nora. “I’m desperate. That’s why I came home. I want to lie low on the Marker Ranch for a week or two. Get my bearings. Try to figure out what to do next. I had no idea you two had moved back to Benson. I thought the ranch was still abandoned. But I asked someone when I got to town today, and they told me Wade was running it now. And they sent me here to Lone Mountain, to find you.”
“Marker Ranch is Wade’s livelihood.” A shrill note careened across Nora’s voice. “I don’t think you staying here is a good idea.”
“Nora.” Wade put a hand on her arm. “He’s our brother. And he’s served his time. Paid his dues.”
“To the law, maybe. Not to us!”
Her fury was justified, but her words still bruised. “I swear to you that I’m clean. No drugs, no deals. All I want is to live a regular life. I don’t know how to do that, but I want, more than anything, to learn. And if there’s a way to apologize enough, to make amends to you and Wade, I want to do that, too.”
Doubt was thick in the air all around them. Arch waited. He’d learned to pray a little in prison, so he prayed now. He needed to be in the mountains, to breathe this clean air, to get grounded. “I have a parole officer. I check in by phone each week. He’ll have the local sheriff check on me, too.”
Nora and Wade exchanged a long, what-the-hell-should-we-do kind of look. Arch studied the mountains beyond them, the granite peaks rising to meet the afternoon sky and the fall-burnished aspen gilding the lower slopes. Trying to give them a moment of privacy. Trying to find the peace he’d felt earlier when he’d listened to the pines and caught Shrimp.
They must have reached some kind of understanding, because Wade cleared his throat and turned to face him squarely. “The house on Marker Ranch is empty. Nora lives with her husband, Todd, on his property now. And I live here with my fiancée...” He paused and a smile lifted all the tension off his face. “I mean, my wife, Lori. Mandy’s sister. So there’s plenty of room for you to stay there.”
“But if there are any problems, you’ll have to go,” Nora added.
Relief, so sweet it choked him up again, shook his voice. “I understand. There won’t be any problems.”
“The thing is,” Wade continued, “I’m leaving on my honeymoon. Tonight. And Nora’s leaving tomorrow to do some work up near the Oregon border for a few weeks. So you’ll be on your own.”
Nora turned to Wade. “Todd will be around. He was going to take care of Marker Ranch anyway. He can keep an eye on Arch.”
It was humiliating to be spoken about in the third person. As someone who needed to be watched. But how could he blame them? They didn’t know him beyond their memories, and those memories sucked.
Mandy broke the awkward pause. “I’ll be here, next door, if he needs anything.”
She was so sweet. Somehow, when he’d caught that cake, he’d caught an ally along with it.
Wade shook his head. “We can’t ask that of you.” Distrust weighted every staccato syllable. It made sense. For all his little brother knew, he was a rapist, too.
“It’s not asking anything. We’re neighbors. I’m happy to help out.” The sharp note in Mandy’s voice surprised him. She might be sweet, but she was tough.
Nora looked surprised, too. She studied Mandy for a moment. “Are you sure?”
Mandy nodded. “He saved the wedding cake, you know. I almost dropped it. And I think he caught a stray donkey for me, as well.”
Nora’s stern expression softened at Mandy’s words. “You and your strays. Looks like you found another one today.”
Arch saw Mandy flush a little. “I’m just grateful she did,” he threw in, to cover her discomfort. “And I did find the donkey. It’s safe with the goat.”
“Thanks,” Mandy said, and the warmth in her eyes was a tonic.
It seemed to soothe Wade, too, because that worry was gone from his eyes. “I still have a few horses and my cattle grazing on the ranch. I’ll expect you to look after them. That way Todd won’t have to. And there are a lot of repairs to do. We’ll leave you a list.”
“I can fix stuff,” Arch told him. “I took machine shop, woodworking, metalwork—pretty much every class they offered while I was locked up. Otherwise I would have gone crazy. I even worked with livestock the last few years. The prison had a program. But not a full-scale cattle operation.”
Wade gave a wan smile. “Well, we’re not that yet. We’ve got a small herd and big plans.”
“Then I know I can do it.” He turned to Nora. “I’ll listen to your husband. I’ll get his advice if I have any questions. And I can ask...” He paused, strangely aware that it was the first time he was going to say her name. “Mandy. It will help to know I can turn to both of them with any concerns.”
He glanced at Mandy, noting the faint flush on her cheeks. There was some kind of connection between them. Or maybe not. After ten years locked away from women, he had no idea. But damn, she was beautiful. And her name had been honey on his tongue.
Nora’s brows drew in, schoolteacher serious. “We’re giving you the chance. It’s up to you to take it and run with it.”
“Thanks, truly.” Arch wished he could give her more reassurance. But nothing he could say would help. All he could do was not screw this up.
He turned to Wade, swallowing to clear the catch in his throat that just wouldn’t go away. “I’m sorry to interrupt your wedding. I had no idea you were getting married when I came here today. Congratulations.” He stepped back, giving them all space. “I don’t want you to miss any more of your party. I’ll just head on over to the ranch.”
Wade nodded. “The house isn’t great, but it’s livable. Nora and I fixed it up a little when we stayed there.”
Arch couldn’t help but smile at that. “Trust me, after prison it will be a palace.”
“I’ll come see you later tonight to make sure you’re settled,” Nora said.
“We leave a key on the beam above the kitchen door,” Wade added. “Just go on in and make yourself at home.”
Home. Marker Ranch had never been a safe haven. Funny that it felt like one now. “Thanks,” Arch muttered through the tightness in his throat. Maybe it was too much, but he had to say it. “I know sorry doesn’t fix anything, but I wish I’d been different. Been a better brother. Been an honest man. Prison gave me a lot of time to regret the way I was.”
Wade smiled faintly and reached out, bumping Arch’s shoulder with his knuckles. “Just don’t screw this up too badly.”
“I won’t.” Arch glanced at Mandy. “Thanks for helping me out today.”
“You’re welcome.” Her voice was everything gentle and warm. “Thanks for rescuing the cake.”
Arch nodded and stepped back, wanting to free them up to finish out the wedding. He watched as the three of them turned back to the reception. Nora took Wade’s hand in hers and put an arm around Mandy. They were a unit. Family. Friends.
Loneliness wrapped its cold hands around his insides.
But friendship and family had to be earned. Especially after you’d thrown it all away.
Arch turned to go, grateful that he had a place he could go. His feet ached from all the walking he’d done today, and it was still a couple of miles between Marker Ranch and this one, but he welcomed the pain. Each step on the dirt road was a reminder. He was free. He could walk fast, or slow, or he could run if he wanted, for the first time in a decade.
His heart lightened at the thought. He was free. His fifty-third day of freedom, and even when it had brought him this low—broke, unwanted and crawling home for help—he still cherished it beyond anything. He veered left at the driveway that would take him off Mandy’s ranch.
“Arch!”
He turned, surprised, and saw Mandy hurrying after him. In her hand was a paper plate piled high with an enormous slice of cake. He started back toward her, admiring how elegant she looked in that wine-colored dress.
“You saved it. You earned a slice.” She was a little out of breath, like she’d jogged, cake and all, to catch him.
Arch tried to remember the last time someone had reached out to show him a kindness like this—he couldn’t. The plate was heavy in his hand, she’d put so much cake on it. “You’re a good person.” He blurted it out like an awkward kid. He had no experience with generosity.
“I just made a whole lot of cake.” Her smile was fleeting but kind.
“Well, this will make the walk home a whole lot better.”
There was silence while they looked at each other. Total strangers who’d done each other a good deed today, and maybe found a small seed of friendship. He needed to let her get back to her sister’s wedding. “Nice to meet you, Mandy. Thanks for sticking up for me back there.”
“Of course.” She took a step back and waved. “Welcome home, Arch.”
It was more of a welcome than he’d ever, in his most wishful dreams, hoped to get. He watched her walk lightly back up the drive, her full skirt swaying right down to the tops of her pretty brown cowboy boots. She was much more than a fairy like Tinker Bell. She was a guardian angel. A vision from heaven.
He looked down at the plate she’d brought him. White cake, chocolate cake, a few different kinds of icing. The first mouthful was a revelation of sugar and cream. He closed his eyes and tried to absorb the flavors. To savor such a fine taste. She might have heaped his plate, but her kindness today was sweeter than any cake. And he would never, ever get enough of sweetness like that.
CHAPTER THREE (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3)
THE SKY WAS glowing sunset pink when Mandy stepped out of the barn to shake the crumbs off the last tablecloth. The wedding was over. Lori and Wade had been sent on their honeymoon in style, with just married scrawled across the rear window of Wade’s pickup and cans clanking along behind the bumper. Every last guest had been thanked and waved off. The food had been hauled back to the house and the dishes, too.
Mandy tossed the cloth onto the heap in the back of her truck and went inside to find her father. He was folding the rental tables and leaning them in neat stacks along the barn wall.
“I can ask one of the hands to finish those tomorrow, Daddy.”
Her dad tipped another table on its side. “I may not be ranching anymore, but I’m still able. Tracy’s got me going to the gym.”
His new wife bustled up, a round figure in bright clothing and dyed-red hair. When Mandy found out her dad was in love, she’d pictured someone more like her willowy, dreamy mom. Tracy couldn’t be more opposite. She reminded Mandy of a plump parrot. Even her voice was chirpy. “Let’s finish up, honey. We should get on the road to Reno.”
Mandy snuffed a flicker of resentment. They’d only flown in yesterday. She’d hoped for more time with her father. But Tracy was clearly in charge of their relationship.
“I guess you’re right.” Her dad’s voice echoed a little of Mandy’s gloom as he set the table on the stack. “I think I’m just having trouble accepting that one of my babies is married.”
“It’s wonderful,” Tracy cooed. “They’re happy. Just like we are.”
Mandy reached for a box of flower arrangements, walking them out to the truck to hide the emotion rolling over her. What was wrong with her? Her mom had died over a decade ago. Her dad had raised Mandy and Lori on his own and battled depression, as well. He deserved to be happy. She should be happy for him.
Her father and Tracy followed her out to the truck. “Today has made me want a party of our own, honey.” Tracy clung to her husband’s elbow. “Maybe we could have a reception? Since ours was only a courthouse wedding?” Her bright eyes flitted to Mandy. “You’d come celebrate with us, right?”
Florida. Mandy had never been. Flamingos, alligators and palm trees. That was how she imagined it. It all sounded good—except the alligators. “Of course.”
Her dad’s hand reached out to cover Mandy’s in familiar comfort. “And what about you? Anyone special in your life?”
Mandy had been ducking this question all day from well-meaning friends and relatives. “You know me, Daddy. I prefer quiet life here on the ranch. And no one’s come knocking on my door.”
His frown weighed on her. “You’re young. You should get out more.”
“I go out sometimes. But I’m busy. I have my chickens, my strays, the ranch and my baking business. There just aren’t enough hours in the day.”
Her dad squeezed her hand and let go. “Well, if you’re happy, then I am. But it’s not just about finding someone special. You should be following your dreams. Especially now that Lori is married. She and Wade will combine the ranches and run them just fine as one. But that’s not your dream, honey. It never was. You should find out what you really want to do.”
Her cheeks went hot. Did he really see her as that lost? “I am doing what I want to do.”
“That’s great.” He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “You know, if you want to open up a bakery in town, Benson sure could use one. Maybe I could help out with the initial costs. Or help you get a loan.”
Money, planning, decision making. It all loomed in a thick and impenetrable wall. Just like it did every time Mandy thought about opening a real bakery. Anxiety threaded through her, pulling tension, making knots. “Thank you.” She gave him a big hug, relishing his warm strength. “I’ll think about it.”
The weatherworn lines of her father’s face creased into a smile as he looked down at her. “You just say the word and I’ll do whatever I can.”
All the ways she’d missed him since he started his new life in Florida ached in her heart. She inhaled his familiar scent—pure comfort—and stepped back, looking around the barn before she started bawling like the little girl she felt like. “It’s hard to believe it, but I think we really are done here.”
“You did an incredible job.” Tracy fluttered her fingers toward the barn. “Everything looked gorgeous, and that cake was just out of this world. If you open a bakery, you’ll have people lined up for miles.”
Mandy laughed at that. “I don’t think we have enough people in the town of Benson to make a line much farther than the door, but thank you.”
Her dad glanced at his watch and Mandy’s heart dipped. “You have to get going, don’t you?”
“We do. Our flight is so early, we booked a hotel near the airport for tonight. I wish we could stay longer, but Tracy has to get back to the shop.”
“How’s that going?” Mandy had been so busy the past few days, she hadn’t even thought to ask.
“Oh, it’s amazing.” Tracy’s face lit under all her layers of makeup. “Busy. We get so many tourists on Sanibel Island, and they all want a piece of ocean decor to take home with them.”
“Sounds perfect.” It was hard to imagine her father, the tough rancher, selling seagull statues and shell-shaped ashtrays. More evidence that Mandy’s world had changed completely.
“You’re sure you’ll be okay running the ranch solo for a few weeks?”
Her father would stay to help her if she asked. And Mandy really wanted to ask. Not just ask, beg. But she couldn’t. He’d moved to Florida to get away from the ranch and the stress and the pain of losing his first wife. She couldn’t ask him to take all that on again, even for just three weeks.
“I’ll be just fine, Daddy. With Lori gone, it’s my one and only chance to boss the ranch hands around. It will be fun.”
His smile was what she needed. She didn’t want to be a burden to him anymore.
“If you say so, sweetie. But call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Will do, Daddy. Now let’s get you guys on the road before it gets too dark out there.”
Mandy walked them to their car, cherishing her father’s goodbye hugs, enduring Tracy’s lipstick kisses. She watched them bounce away down the drive in their tiny rental car, turn onto the main road and disappear. The high mountain peaks behind the ranch shone in the last light of the sun, the gold cast making them seem even more ethereal, more unreachable. Jim, the ranch manager, had finished up the feeding a while ago, and the ranch seemed especially quiet. It was just her and the whisper of evening wind in the pines.
She’d done it. She’d given Lori a lovely wedding. But without the adrenaline of party guests and tasks, the last remaining energy in her body evaporated. The two hours of sleep she’d had in the past twenty-four hours fizzed out. She stumbled to the truck, almost too tired to miss Lori or her dad. Almost too tired to feel the loneliness of the empty ranch and the mountain night. Almost too tired to feed the stray cats and Lori’s dog. Definitely too tired to think about the way life had moved one step farther today, leaving her here alone on the empty ranch.
* * *
DURING ALMOST A decade in prison, Arch had never once thought he’d come home to Marker Ranch. But here he was, standing in the gravel driveway in front of the saggy farmhouse, apprehension thickening the air and memories creeping across his skin.
There was the old wicker chair, still on the porch, where his dad used to sit in the evenings. He’d nurse the bottle of JD in his hands and deliver slurred lectures to Arch and his brother Blake, schooling them in the finer points of running a con, stealing a car, manufacturing meth.
Most parents taught their kids right from wrong. What kind of father groomed his sons to be criminals? Anger simmered and Arch exhaled, trying to let it go. It was old poison. And he couldn’t pass on all the blame. His dad might have offered him a toxic brew, but he’d chosen to drink it down.
“It’s weird coming back, isn’t it?”
Arch jumped straight out of his thought and turned to see Nora walking toward him. “You startled me. I didn’t see you pull up.”
“Sorry. I parked by the barn. I wanted to take a look at the cattle.” She walked past him and plopped down on the porch steps. She looked a lot more like the sister he remembered, with her party dress replaced by faded jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt.
She pointed to the duffel bag on the ground next to him. The sum total of all his possessions. He’d stashed it in the bushes outside Mandy’s ranch today, to avoid looking like the vagrant he really was. “Have you gone inside yet?”
He shook his head. “I took my time walking over. Then I went to see the horses and cattle. You and Wade have done a lot with this place.”
“The ranch, yes. This house, not so much,” Nora said. “Wade’s bedroom is the nicest. Lori made him fix it up when they were first together. The rest of it is still pretty shabby.”
“I was just standing here remembering it all. Growing up with Dad. How he’d sit on the porch and bully. He was a mean drunk.”
“And he was almost always drunk.” Nora glared at their dad’s old chair with narrowed eyes. “I should’ve burned that thing when Wade and I first moved back.”
“Maybe we can do it together.”
The glance she shot him was skeptical. “Were you telling the truth earlier? That you left him and Blake?”
“You think I made it all up?” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her his parole officer’s card. “Steve’s a good guy. You can call him if you want. He’d actually really like to talk with a family member.”
She took the card, and he watched her eyes flick quickly over the words. “Can I keep this?”
He nodded. “You can trust me on this one thing, if nothing else—I haven’t heard a word from Dad or Blake since I walked away. I figure they’re in Mexico, if they’re even still alive.”
“And now that you’re out, are you going to contact them?”
“No!” The thought had a foul taste. “I’m not going near them. And I’m not making their kinds of choices.”
“I want to believe you,” Nora said quietly. “But I don’t know you.”
“I get it. You know me as a bully. Someone who made your life miserable. I tried to pull you down with me. To get you to deal drugs at school.”
She nodded. “I’m not gonna lie, Arch. You were mean. You scared me.”
It was hard to speak through the mass of remorse rising in his throat. “It’s not an excuse, but I thought that was how a man was meant to be. Showing how tough I was and how little I cared. But now I know I was just weak.” He studied the fall of her long hair, half covering her face as she looked out over the driveway. “You were the strong one, Nora. You kept your head above it all. How did you do it? How did you stay out of Dad’s grip?”
She didn’t look at him. “I just knew I hated how he was. How you and Blake were. I didn’t want anything to do with any of it.”
“I wish I’d seen it like you did. After Mom ran off, I turned to Dad. I didn’t question that he was teaching me to hate, or guiding me to break the law. I became his puppet.”
“I’m glad you broke away from him.” Her voice was barely audible—like she felt all the emotion, too. She picked at the paint peeling off the step with a fingernail. “Ever since you showed up today, I’ve been trying to remember something good between us. Something that would make me feel okay about you coming home. And I actually remembered something.”
“You did?” He couldn’t think of anything he’d ever done that didn’t fill him with guilt.
“Remember how Dad would steal cattle on occasion?”
“I used to help him do it.” One more regret on his long list.
“Well, I remembered one time when Dad grabbed a couple of cows with young calves. He wanted to just shoot the little ones, because they were a hassle. I was really upset, and you stood up to him. You told him he shouldn’t do it. And then you helped me make a separate pen for them, way off in the corner of the ranch where Dad wouldn’t see them.”
There it was, one memory lit up in gold, while the rest were shrouded in gray gloom. “I remember that. I went out and got bottles so we could feed them.”
She finally looked at him and he could see her wistful smile, even in the deepening dusk. “And you and I fed them together, until they were bigger. And then one night, you borrowed a trailer and we drove three hours to take them back to the ranch they’d come from. You cut the wires and put them back in the pasture. And we mended the fence back up again and went home.”
“I remember,” he said, staring at her in wonder. “But I’d totally forgotten.”
“It’s nice to know there was something good between us.”
“I wish we had more memories like that. Believe me, I’ve gone over and over every wrong move I made. Everything I wish I’d done differently. I don’t know how many apologies to give, but they’re there if you want them.”
She was silent. Because what could apologies do to unravel all the hurt he’d caused? The weight of it was a boulder on his back.
Finally she spoke. “I don’t know if there’s much of a future between you and me. Maybe we can find some more memories like those calves, but there are some things I’m not sure can be repaired. I want you to know, though, that I think you were brave to turn yourself in. I realize it couldn’t have been an easy decision.”
“It was the only choice I had if I ever wanted to be free.” It was almost fully dark now. He pointed to the sky. “The first stars. One of the things I missed most in jail.”
“Ten years of no stars.” She looked up, too. “It’s hard to imagine.”
“Don’t try. It’s depressing. Life went on for everyone else. You and Wade did well for yourselves.”
Warmth and pride softened her tone. “I can’t believe he’s off on his honeymoon.”
“You raised him well,” Arch said. “You kept him on the right path.”
“I’m proud of him. He was a soldier, you know. He fought in Afghanistan.”
Arch whistled low. “I didn’t know. And what about you?”
“I’m a plant biologist. I consult on ranches, trying to help them use less water in the drought. And I work with my husband, Todd. We’re creating a sanctuary for wild horses.”
“You married a cowboy?”
She laughed. “I married an ex-activist who used to try to fix the world. Now he fixes engines and saves wild horses on the side.”
“He sounds complicated. He treats you well?” The words felt clumsy on his tongue. He wasn’t used to being brotherly.
The smile that broke across her face told him what he needed to know. “He’s a good guy. Really good. You’ll meet him tomorrow when he stops by.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He was lying. Todd obviously had a strong sense of justice. Which meant he’d probably want to kick Arch’s ass for the way he’d treated Nora when they were young. But Arch would just have to take it if Todd resorted to violence. No fighting was high up there on the list of rules he had to follow now that he was on parole.
Nora stood, pulling her keys out of her pocket. “Speaking of Todd, I need to get home.”
Arch nodded. “Thanks for coming by.”
She pulled a folded index card out from the back pocket of her jeans. “Here’s Todd’s number. Call him with any questions. And please take care of this place. Wade’s worked so hard on it.”
“I will.” Arch walked her to the barn, listening as Nora gave him instructions on how to use their account at the feed store. And then they were at her truck. She stuck out an awkward hand and he shook it once.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Good luck.” She climbed in behind the steering wheel, shut the door, gave a wave through the window and pulled a U-turn toward the driveway. Arch watched her go, leaning against the barn since his legs seemed to have gone boneless with relief.
Talking with Nora had been awkward. But it had gone better than he had any right to hope for.
He stayed there a few minutes, listening to the silence left in the wake of her truck. Silence laced with a touch of hope.
Autumn evenings lost their warmth quickly here in the mountains. After watching a few more stars emerge, Arch walked back to the house, grabbed his duffel bag and let himself in the kitchen door.
Inside he stopped, taking in the neatly scrubbed countertops, the faded linoleum. He moved on into the living room, recognizing the familiar furniture, the scarred, paneled walls, everything even older and more run-down than he remembered it. It was clean, though, which it had never been when they were young. Clean, but still a gut job.
A clock ticked in the hall. Other than that there was just thick, musty silence. For ten years he’d lived and slept with the sounds of hundreds of men clinging to him like dirt that he couldn’t wash off. He’d craved silence during nights surrounded by their moans and snores. But now the quiet closed over him and all the emptiness was almost overwhelming.
He was being an idiot. Quiet was just that. Quiet. He should be happy to finally have a chance to experience it. He’d get used to it—and to everything else about life after jail.
He didn’t feel ready to go upstairs, but exhaustion was hitting. He’d hitchhiked the past couple of days up from Los Angeles, sleeping rough. He needed a shower and bed.
He grabbed his duffel and climbed the rickety wooden stairs to face the past lurking in his childhood bedroom. The sagging mattress and the iron bed frame just as he’d left them. Beyond the bed, the window opened out over the porch roof. He’d climbed out of it just about every night when he was a kid, so ready to grow up fast and raise hell.
His bag landed on the bed with a hollow thump. He wished he could talk to the kid he’d been. Grip him by the belt and pull him back inside. Give him a good shaking and a glimpse into what his future would hold. Scare him straight.
Arch shook his head to clear the regret making his vision swim. No wishing could undo what had been done. No wishing could give him back the ten years he’d spent surviving behind bars. All he could do was leave that trouble-hungry boy in the past. All he could do was take what he’d learned and use it to finally become a man.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3)
WHEN MANDY TOLD Lori that she’d run their ranch, what she’d really meant was that Jim, the ranch manager, and Ethan, his second in command, would run the ranch. Her plan was to nod, smile and agree with whatever they said.
But instead, here she was, just twelve hours after Lori’s wedding, locked in her truck and surrounded by hulking cattle. Jim had thrown out his back last night and the doctor told him to stay home for a while. And Ethan’s mom had taken a fall and broken her hip, so he was on his way to the airport. He’d likely be gone for weeks.
Mandy smacked the steering wheel with the palm of her hand, cursing her employees and their personal crises. Robert’s wife had gone into labor this morning—almost a month early. Juan and Ely had both called in sick with a horrible stomach flu. And Terry, due to some kind of scheduling mix-up, was on vacation for the next few weeks.
All of their reasons for not being here this morning were completely legitimate, but they still meant that Mandy was alone in this truck, trying to calm the shaking in her legs and the slamming of her heart.
She was terrified of cattle. Terrified of any large animal. Heck, even the miniature donkey made her nervous.
She cracked her window to get some fresh air. No cattle approached. That was hopeful. Maybe if she rolled the window down all the way, then sat on it, then stood on it, she could climb over the roof of the cab to the truck bed. Her feet wouldn’t even touch the ground. She could toss the hay from there and never have to go near any cattle.
All it would take was a few simple steps. Unclip seat belt. Roll glass down. Put hands on window frame. Mandy leaned her head out, then her torso, getting ready to turn around so she could sit on the sill. A black steer just a couple of yards away raised its head and tilted huge ears in her direction. Mandy froze. Held her breath. Started to lower herself back into the cab. But the steer was curious and quick. It stuck its enormous nose in her face. Something slimy plastered her cheek.
“No!” Mandy fell back into the cab, scrambling to roll up the window, almost catching the steer’s nose in the process.
Skin cells recoiled from the slime on her face. She grabbed a bandanna off the passenger seat and scrubbed, trying to keep on breathing. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.
The familiar self-disgust set in. What was wrong with her? She was born and raised on a ranch. This shouldn’t be a big deal.
But it was. It had been for years. Ever since the day her mom died. Tears stung and Mandy swiped at them. When would all the fear stop?
A flicker of motion across the black backs of the cattle caught her eye. Dark hair under a brown cowboy hat. Long legs in faded jeans. Shoulders wide under his padded canvas jacket. Arch Hoffman.
He was standing on the rail of the fence, waving with both arms to get her attention. She rolled down the window. “Hey,” she called, knowing that it didn’t matter what she said. There was no way she was getting out of this situation without looking like an idiot.
“What’s going on?” He shouted the words, but it was still hard to hear him over the indignant mooing. The steers wanted breakfast, and they were confused and frustrated. Well, boys, welcome to the club. She’d been confused and frustrated for years now.
“Not much,” she called back in a lame attempt at nonchalance. “What’s up with you?”
She could see the confusion on Arch’s face even from this distance. He probably hadn’t been expecting small talk. “Um, not much. You need a little help there?”
She forced a breezy voice. “I’m okay...just need to get out of this truck and get feeding.”
“Oh.” He paused for a moment, as if trying to come up with the right words. “It’s just that...you fell into the cab.”
How long had he been there, watching her make a fool of herself? “Oh, ya know, just lost my balance for a minute.” It was almost impossible to sound casual while yelling over the ruckus of forty upset steers.
Arch jumped off the fence and Mandy lost sight of him. She had a tiny moment to hope that he’d decided she was fine and was gone on his way. Then she saw him swing up on the back of a big black gelding and guide it along the fence to the gate. Leaning gracefully from the saddle, he let himself into the pasture, closing the gate behind him.
Mandy reached for the door handle, but her hand was shaking so hard she couldn’t grasp it. She wanted to get out and face Arch while tossing hay out of the truck like a pro. But fear had its cold claws sunk in deep.
With a wave of his rope, Arch cleared the steers easily from his path. He took their place at her truck window, looking down at her from his relaxed perch in the saddle. “Do you want me to feed them?”
His voice was a balm of gentle concern that almost brought out the tears fizzing hot beneath her eyes. She felt her cheeks heat, too, and knew her usually pale skin had gone scarlet. She couldn’t answer. But she nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Just sit tight.”
She watched him in the side mirror as he guided his horse alongside the vehicle and leaned over, grabbing a few flakes of the hay she’d stacked there. He threw them to his right and several of the steers trotted toward the pile. Quickly he grabbed more hay and tossed it out behind the truck, creating another feeding area. Soon the pasture was littered with piles of hay surrounded by happy cattle. Mandy buried her face in her hands. He made it look so simple.
“All fed,” Arch called and brought his horse around to stand by her window again. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah, sure.” Her voice scraped over the words.
“I’ll open the gate. Why don’t you bring the truck outside the pasture and park it?”
Mandy nodded and turned on the engine in mindless obedience, glad he was in charge, because her brain was blank in the aftermath of panic.
Arch opened the gate and she bumped through it over the rough ground. She parked and watched Arch shut the gate in her rearview mirror. He rode so well. Slinging an easy leg over the horse’s back, he dismounted and led his horse toward her.
Dread tipped her stomach. He’d want an explanation. But what could she possibly say without sounding totally crazy?
She stared straight ahead, but he didn’t go away. She heard his footsteps crunching on the dry earth and then he was at her window, looking down at her with a mystified expression. “Mandy, are you all right? You’re so pale... Are you sick?”
She could only hold his gaze for a moment. There was too much mortifying worry in his eyes. “Not sick.” She ran her fingertips over the steering wheel in nervous zigzags, tracing the cord that wrapped the vinyl.
“Then?” he prompted.
She couldn’t spit out the humiliating truth. If she stared at the steering wheel hard enough, maybe it would keep her tears at bay.
Arch brought his hand to her arm, and she jumped at the touch. “Are you frightened?”
The truth, said out loud, was jarring. She yanked her arm away from his fingers. “No!” It was a shrill bleat of a lie, but she went with it. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night—too wound up after the wedding. When I got out of the truck to feed, I felt dizzy. That’s when you saw me fall back.”
His eyes were set deep beneath strong black brows. The skin around them creased with wear. Not smile lines. Hard-lived lines. When he searched her face, she knew he could see way too much. So she kept babbling. “I was just wondering if I should drive back out and feed them over the fence when you showed up. You saved me a lot of trouble and time.”
“But—”
“I’ve still got a lot of chores to do,” she interrupted. “I’m so glad you came along.”
“Mandy...” he tried again.
But she flashed him a plastic smile, desperate for space between them. “Boy, do I owe you! Yesterday you saved the cake, and today you salvaged my chore schedule.”
He was still intent on her, as if he could see right through her crazy. “What about the dizziness? Will you be okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll just drink some water,” she assured him. “And try to get more sleep.” Lying didn’t come naturally. A low ache was seeping through her skull. She put the truck in gear.
“Wait,” he said. “I came by to say thank you. For sticking up for me yesterday. For the cake, too.”
“Hey, it was no problem!” Since when did she talk like someone’s hearty uncle? “But really nice of you to come by and say so. You must be really busy. So I’ll let you get on with it. Thanks, Arch!” Mandy gave a vigorous wave, and he got the message and stepped back, that mystified look still on his face. She pressed the truck’s accelerator a little too hard and it jolted her forward, adding insult to awkwardness.
Mandy steered the pickup haphazardly away from the pasture. Adrenaline coursed as if she’d just barely escaped with her survival. It was embarrassing enough being afraid of everything. It would be worse if people found out. Especially Arch Hoffman. He’d spent ten years in jail and lived a life of crime before that. He’d probably never been frightened of anything in his life. Plus, he just looked so capable. Of anything.
Mandy parked by the barn and buried the heat of her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? When would she get over her fears? And why had she lied about them, again?
The answer was obvious. She was a coward. A coward with a bunch more livestock to feed. She’d have to run along the fence like a maniac, tossing hay over at different places as fast as she could. It was risky. The cattle might push each other against the barbed wire trying to get the hay.
Later today she’d call around and see if she could find temporary workers to help out on the ranch. For now, she’d just have to survive. She knew one thing for sure—there was no way she was going into a pasture with those scary, slobbery creatures again.
* * *
ARCH WATCHED MANDY’S truck swerve away in a cloud of dust. He’d thought they’d made a connection yesterday. That maybe they’d started some kind of friendship. He’d lain awake like a fool last night, reliving that moment when she’d brought him the cake. When she’d made him feel like he mattered.
As soon as he got done with his morning chores, he’d resolved to go find her, to thank her, to let her know what her kindness had meant. He’d ridden through the gate that separated their properties with high hopes. Of what he wasn’t sure. Maybe just more of what it felt like to be near her. Because she’d seen him as a real person, not just an ex-convict. Maybe because she was beautiful, and he wanted to see that beauty again.
But when he’d found her, none of that had been there. Except her beauty, of course. That wasn’t even dimmed by her pale skin, her worried eyes or the traces of dirt on her cheek. But the warmth, the sense that she cared, were all gone. Instead she’d almost run him over, trying to get away as fast as possible. Something had changed for her completely. But what?
It hit him like a blow to the sternum. She’d gone back to the wedding reception yesterday and talked with Nora and Wade about the bad he’d done. About what a heartless brother he’d been. That was what had changed. He couldn’t blame her for trying to avoid him. If he heard those stories, he’d hate that guy, too.
Anger rose, at himself, at his choices. Anger was his lifelong companion, the cartoon devil on his shoulder. In prison, there’d been a chaplain, Pastor Doug, who’d become Arch’s mentor and friend. Doug called anger the go-to emotion, because it was the first to show up. The pastor’s words rose from memory and settled him. Stop. Identify the feelings. All of them.
Arch took a deep breath and tried to make space in his mind. There was anger, always. But there was more. Frustration that his past was coloring every moment of the present. Disappointment that Mandy wasn’t looking at him the way she had yesterday. Shame that he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s regard. Fear that he never would be.
Losing the glimmer of hope she’d offered him felt big. Truth was, he’d been hanging on to it like a lifeline. But trying to get that hope from Mandy, or from anyone, was a big mistake. The only hope that mattered was the feeling deep inside him. That small, stubborn belief that he could be a better person.
He had to remake his life on his own. And standing around here feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to get him far.
Arch swung onto the big gelding. Funny, he didn’t even know the horse’s name. He’d seemed strong and calm. The best choice for a big guy like Arch. And they’d gotten along well so far.
He’d found a path that connected the two ranches via a big well at the top of both properties. He’d take that way home now. And along the way he’d try to put Mandy out of his thoughts.
Fall in the eastern Sierra brought cold mornings, even on sunny days. His breath was visible where the peaks cast their shadows. Arch focused on gratitude, for the chilly air in his lungs and the feel of the big horse under him. If there was a definition of freedom, it had to be this. Riding alone in the quiet of the autumn mountains. Granite boulders scattered everywhere, turning landscape into moonscape. Sagebrush clinging to the dry soil.
Arch leaned down and broke off a sprig, inhaling its earthy, rich scent. And something inside him broke open, his gratitude expanding in a warm, soaring feeling that lifted his shoulders and lightened his heart. The deepest relief. The purest joy. Elation. Because he was here in this beauty. He was home. He was free. And that miracle mattered, more than anything.
* * *
THE TRAIL WOUND lower into the deep valley that sheltered Marker Ranch. When the terrain leveled, Arch let the gelding break into a lope, loving the speed and the horse’s smooth gait. Eventually the trail became dirt road. They passed recently painted outbuildings. Mended fences. Arch slowed the horse to a walk near the newly repaired barn.
A dark blue pickup was parked alongside it. A man was leaning on the tailgate, waiting. The horse’s pace quickened, as if he recognized the visitor.
“You found trouble,” the man called.
Arch stopped the horse a few paces away. “Pardon me?”
The man stepped forward and rubbed the horse’s nose, and Arch caught a glimpse of a lean face under the brim of a worn brown felt hat. “Trouble. That’s this horse’s name.”
Arch couldn’t contain his laugh. “I always was good at finding trouble. Guess not much has changed. You must be Todd.”
“I sure am.” Todd ran a hand over Trouble’s neck and stepped back to take the big horse in. “He’s looking good.”
“He’s great to ride. I don’t know much about any of the horses. I just picked him because he’s big.”
“You picked well. He used to be wild, you know. Found him sweltering in a government corral about sixty miles south of here. He was angry as hell, so no one would adopt him. But with some time and patience, he came around.”
Arch swung his leg over Trouble’s back, his legs just a little wobbly when he hit the ground. His brother-in-law stuck his hand out and Arch took it, gratified by the firm grip. “Thanks for stopping by,” he said. “Good to meet you.”
Todd just nodded, assessing him the same as he’d done to the horse. Calm and observant. Then his glance went to Arch’s arm, where Trouble was trying to nibble at his sleeve. “Trouble likes you. So that’s a good sign.”
“He’s a good horse,” Arch said. “You did a fine job with him.”
“I gentled him, but your brother Wade trained him,” Todd said. “Trouble’s the second mustang he’s trained.”
His little brother trained wild horses. Arch was getting random pieces of the puzzle. If he put them together, maybe he could learn all he’d missed. “Well, I’ll have to compliment him, then.”
Todd gave the horse a gentle pat on the neck, but his voice was firm. “He’s put a lot of work into his horses. And into fixing up this ranch.”
“I know,” Arch told him.
“No, you don’t know, actually.” Todd stood up straighter. He wasn’t a huge guy. Tall, for sure, but still a couple of inches shorter than Arch, and lanky and lean. “You don’t know the work your brother and sister put in to clean this place up. It took months. It made them a little crazy. They’ve lived with snide comments and dirty looks because of the things you did. Things they had no part in.”
Todd didn’t need bulk and muscle. The guy was a ninja with words, cutting and slashing right to the point, leaving wounds salted with pure truth. The pain of it made Arch gruff. “You’re right. I was born and raised a complete asshole. When I got old enough, I continued that family tradition all on my own.”
“You’ve got no excuse?” Todd crossed his arms, waiting.
“Nope. I did stuff that is inexcusable. Look, Todd, I don’t have a list of reasons. I was who I was. The guy my dad taught me to be. I hate that guy, but I was that guy. In some ways I’ll never be rid of him.” The pain of it coiled in his guts.
“So what’s changed? Why should we trust you now?”
“I don’t have a good answer for that. One day I realized I didn’t want to be that guy anymore, so I turned myself in. Now I’m ready to be someone new. I’m not sure who that is, but I know he’ll be a better man than the first version.” He tried to think of a more eloquent way to put it. But all he found inside was raw regret. “That’s all I got.”
Todd looked at him thoughtfully. “I knew I’d like you,” he said.
“What?” If Todd had started speaking a foreign language, Arch wouldn’t have been more surprised.
“When Nora came back into the reception yesterday and told me you were back and that you’d turned yourself in, I knew I’d like you. I’m glad you don’t have excuses. If you did, you’d just be avoiding responsibility.”
Arch stared at his brother-in-law in shock. They were okay? Just like that? “I promised Nora and Wade they’d have nothing to regret by taking me in. I mean to keep that promise.”
“I think you do,” Todd said. “And I think you will. But if you don’t, I’ll have to kick you out. Got it?”
“Got it.” He’d never met anyone as straightforward as this. It was refreshing.
Todd ran a hand down Trouble’s neck. “He doesn’t seem too warm, and he’s definitely not tired. Let’s take a ride through the ranch. If you have any questions, maybe I can answer them.”
Arch nodded. “Sure. I have a lot of questions.”
“I’ll just go grab a horse, then.” Todd stepped into the tack room just inside the barn door and came back out with a halter and rope in hand.
“You need any help?” Arch called.
“Nah. I got it. I helped train them all, so it’s like visiting relatives.” Todd shot Arch a grin. “Only maybe not quite so complicated as that. Be right back.” He jogged down the lane that led to the pasture.
Arch led Trouble over to a trough by the barn wall so the gelding could grab a drink. Leaning on the big horse’s flank, he tried to take in his day so far. A roller coaster. He’d lost his connection with Mandy but gained a new one with Todd. Mandy had lost faith, but Todd might actually believe in him.
Pastor Doug had reminded him over and over again that freedom wasn’t some magical cure for everything. That it would be up and down, sometimes smooth and sometimes rough. That some people would accept him and some would turn their backs. It was only his first full day home, but Arch was seeing the truth of the pastor’s words.
He thought of Mandy driving away from him as fast as she could, and something in his chest ached. He knew he was lucky to have met Doug and to have learned so much from him. But sometimes he wished that his teacher wasn’t right quite so often.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u570cb75d-f2fe-516b-9985-916187f74fc3)
ARCH SIFTED THROUGH Wade’s collection of screws and bolts, all neatly labeled, none the size he needed. One of the gates was falling to pieces, and Todd had put the repair job at the top of Arch’s to-do list when they toured the ranch together yesterday. Arch picked up a half-inch bolt and studied it. Maybe he could make it work. But it was hard to focus, because he was still worried about Mandy.
His disappointment from yesterday had faded, and intuition had replaced emotion. Intuition deep down, telling him something was wrong. That it wasn’t just him she’d been fleeing in her truck yesterday. And with her on the ranch alone, it was easy to imagine what that something might be. Maybe a ranch hand was giving her trouble now that her sister and Wade were away. Or maybe she was ill and didn’t want to see a doctor for some reason.
But she’d made it clear that she didn’t want his help. So who should he tell? Todd was the obvious person. Arch set the bolt back in its compartment. He’d go to town. Stop by Todd’s repair shop and share his concerns about Mandy. Then he could get the right-size bolts from the hardware store, too.
Arch folded his list, shoved it in the pocket of his jeans and headed for the house. After a quick wash and a change of shirt, he grabbed the keys to Wade’s old pickup. And stopped, staring at them lying so innocent in his hand. He had no license. Getting out of jail meant starting from scratch.
His heart rate picked up a few extra beats. He shouldn’t be driving. He’d be breaking the law. Violating parole.
He went to the old rotary phone in the hallway and picked up the receiver. But there was no dial tone. Of course. No one had been living here lately. It made sense they’d turn off the service to save money.
He jangled the keys in his palm. Mandy might be in trouble. The buzz of worry drowned out his concerns. The road to town went through open country. Then he’d just have to make it a few blocks in town to Todd’s shop. It would be fine. It had to be.
In the truck, a few jarring stalls in first gear reminded Arch that he hadn’t driven in ten years. He took a couple of laps, steering the old Chevy around the barn and down the lane to the lower pastures before he three-point turned in jerky motions and headed toward the road.
Driving through open country was easy, but Todd’s repair shop was near downtown Benson, and each landmark Arch passed was an uncomfortable reminder of old mistakes.
First there was the bridge just outside town, where he and his adolescent buddies had smoked and made trouble. They’d throw nails in the road to pop tires, stupid stuff like that.
Then he passed the liquor store, where his underage bulk and bullying had made Mr. Howell so nervous, he’d sold him alcohol without an ID.
Almost to Todd’s shop, Arch caught a glimpse of the back lot behind the outdoor store. The place he’d beat the crap out of Will Barkley for just looking at Arch’s girlfriend Kit. Then left him bleeding in the dust.
Shame stole his senses. He pulled over. He lived with a dormant monster inside him. A punk-kid monster who’d thought nothing of hurting another person.
And Kit. He hadn’t thrown any punches at her, but he’d inflicted pain. The kind that came from walking away from a five-year relationship without even a goodbye. He’d told himself it was for her own good. If she didn’t know where he was, the police couldn’t pin anything on her. But the truth was, he could have called, or left a note. He’d been too much of a coward to face her sadness.
He looked around the deserted street, as if he might see Kit walking right by. But what was he thinking? She’d been fiery, determined to get the hell out of Benson and see the world. No way was she still around town. Which was good, because he didn’t know how he’d face her. One more relationship he’d destroyed. One more mess that I’m sorry could never clean up.
Arch swiped damp palms down his jeans. He had to stay in the present. Mandy might need help. That was the reality, what he needed to focus on. He put the truck back into gear and pulled carefully away from the curb. He could find a few hundred bad deeds to regret in this town. But that would have to wait for another day.
Todd’s shop appeared on his left. Arch avoided the gravel parking lot, pulling the truck to the curb instead. He’d have to face local folks sometime, but he’d rather not do it trying to remember how to park between other cars.
A man in a straw cowboy hat was slouching on a bench just outside the shop. He stood when he saw Arch crossing the street. And Arch’s blood curdled. Connor Purcell.
Arch’s hands coiled automatically. He willed them to straighten. They weren’t kids anymore, and fists wouldn’t help here.
Connor shifted to block the entrance to Todd’s shop. His Ken-doll looks were puffy around the edges now, but he had the same mean glint in his baby blues. “What the hell? Arch Hoffman?” He pulled a phone out of his pocket. “I guess I need to call the sheriff so he can finally arrest you.”
Arch stopped where he was. If he got too close, he might throw a punch, just for old times’ sake. Connor was the son of a rich rancher, and when they were kids he’d made it a point to taunt Arch at every turn, mocking his old clothes, his too-long hair, his poverty. He’d kept the insults coming until freshman year of high school, when Arch had grown about a foot and started working out. And broke Connor’s nose.
“Didn’t expect to run into you at a repair shop, Connor.” Arch kept his voice casual. “Didn’t realize you even used machines—don’t you worry that they’ll get your pretty hands dirty?”
Connor stared at him blankly. He’d never been one for complex thoughts. If there wasn’t a straightforward insult coming at him, he got a little stuck. Arch smiled at the thought, which evidently unnerved Connor further, because he muttered, “I’m calling the sheriff,” and pawed at his phone.
“Go ahead,” Arch offered mildly. “Have him come over. I’d like to meet him.”
Connor flopped back onto the bench with the phone to his ear, calling his bluff. Well, Arch had to make himself known to the sheriff sometime this week, so in a way Connor was helping him with that errand. Though he was glad he’d parked Wade’s truck across the street. He’d been an idiot to drive. But... Mandy. That same urgency gripped him. He stepped into the shop. “Todd, you here?” he called. “It’s Arch. Arch Hoffman.”
He heard the grinding of wheels across cement, as if Todd had been somewhere under the big tractor Arch could see in the back of the building. And then his brother-in-law emerged from the gloom of his shop, wiping his hands on a rag he pulled from his back pocket.
“Arch.” His friendly expression changed to concern when he saw Connor’s scowling face behind him. “Is there a problem here?”
“Connor’s upset about me being here in town. So he’s calling the sheriff.” Arch kept it matter-of-fact.
“Oh!” Todd looked at Connor, who was apparently on hold. “Arch is my brother-in-law. He’s welcome here.”
Connor shook his head. “You don’t know him. He’s nothing but trouble. He’s been hiding from the law down in Mexico. If he’s here, justice can finally be done.”
Arch smiled a little. He couldn’t help it. The universe must have a hell of a sense of humor to make Connor Purcell his Benson welcoming committee. “Hey, it’s okay,” he assured Todd, who was looking pretty uncomfortable. “When I first decided to come back here, I was afraid I’d get run right out of town. So this is good. You know what they say about facing your fears head-on.”
Todd’s lean face creased into smile lines. “You’re not worried?”
“I’m pretty sure my parole officer already gave the sheriff a heads-up that I’m here.” Arch glanced at Connor, who was spouting indignant words into his phone. “Look, can I talk to you about something? Privately?”
“Sure.” Todd led him across the parking lot, stopping out of Connor’s earshot.
Arch explained about Mandy’s behavior the day before. How it had been bothering him ever since. “In jail I learned to trust my gut when I felt like there was a problem. And something definitely wasn’t right with Mandy yesterday.”
Todd looked at him carefully. “Huh. Seems like she’d have called me if she needed anything. But if you’re worried like you say...” He trailed off. Shook his head. “I can’t go out there. Not now. I’ve got Connor breathing down my neck to get this tractor going again. The job’s taking longer than I thought it would, and he’s decided to stay put until I finish.” He glared at the rancher. “I guess he feels like I’d slack off without his imposing presence.”
Arch couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, he’s always been real helpful like that. He spent junior high gluing my locker shut and pouring soda on me at lunch.”
“I imagine you gave him a run for his money eventually,” Todd said.
“Well.” Arch grinned at the memory. “The tires on the fancy truck his daddy bought him for his sixteenth birthday had the strangest habit of going flat every Thursday like clockwork.” He shook his head in mock wonder. “It was the damnedest thing.”
Todd laughed and clapped him on the back. “I would have liked to see that.” Then he sobered. “Look, I’m gonna need you to go out there and check on Mandy. Can you do it? I doubt I’ll be out of here until feeding time tonight. My horses will get a late supper as it is.”
Arch recalled Mandy’s fake smiles and hasty retreat. “I don’t know if I can help. She doesn’t seem to like me very much.”
“Mandy?” Todd shook his head. “Nah. She’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”
“When I stopped by yesterday, she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
“Maybe you just make her a little nervous,” Todd said. “You’re a big guy, fresh out of prison, and let’s just say your reputation precedes you. As our friend the sheriff’s speedy arrival demonstrates.” He pointed to the patrol car pulling into the parking lot, lights flashing. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”
Todd walked toward the car and Arch fell into step next to him. “Just tell Mandy I sent you,” Todd went on. “And that you’re there to make sure she’s all right.”
“Will do.” Arch tried to ignore how much he wanted to see Mandy again. He didn’t expect her to smile at him like she had the day they met. But at least he’d find out if she was okay. It would be good to ease this worry that plagued him.
They were near the sheriff’s car now, and Arch swallowed hard. Those flashing lights set every cell in his body on edge.
“Deputy.” Todd shook hands with the man who stepped out of the car. “Thanks for coming by. Though I think you’ve been called out here for nothing. One of my customers was just a little concerned to see that my brother-in-law is back in town.”
The man looked straight at Arch, and Arch’s stomach turned. Patrick Norris. Connor’s best bud and partner in crime in high school. Now deputized.
“Well, look who’s crawled back to town.” The deputy’s voice was rich with menacing glee. He glanced at Connor, who was approaching eagerly. “He’s been giving you trouble?”
“No, he hasn’t.” Todd spoke before Connor could get a word in. “Connor got upset the moment Arch set foot on my property. But Arch has as much right to be here as any of us.”
Deputy Norris stuck out his chest enough to strain the buttons on his uniform. Arch could see the bully’s gleam in his eye. The deputy was loving this moment of power, and it was clear he was going to make the most of it. “With all due respect, Todd, you weren’t around back when Arch and his family wreaked havoc in this town. So I’ll ask you to step away while I deal with him.”
“With all due respect, Deputy, I won’t see a man illegally detained for crimes he’s already served his time for.” Todd stepped forward, a little in front of Arch.
The deputy’s pale little eyes shot back and forth between Todd and Arch. And to where Connor was standing a few feet farther back. “Where are you staying?” he asked.
“Out at Marker Ranch.”
“Humph. We’ll need to search it, then. Make sure you aren’t setting up any more drug labs out there.”
“You’re welcome to. Just come with a warrant.” Arch forced his voice to stay even. Searches were a part of parole, and he had to remember that the occasional property search was a hell of a lot better than prison. But the thought of Patrick Norris doing the searching made him uneasy.
“How’d you get here? To Benson?” The deputy pulled a little notebook and pencil from his pocket and wrote something on it.
“I caught rides from Los Angeles.”
“How’d you get to town today?”
There it was. His first mistake on parole. Possibly his only one, because Norris was looking for a reason to lock him up, and Arch had given him one by driving here. Cold sweat trickled down his back. He could lie like a coward. Or tell the truth and lose his freedom for sure.
“He rode the bike I loaned him,” Todd offered suddenly. “It’s parked around the back of the shop.”
“Humph.” The deputy eyed Arch. “Is that true, Hoffman?”
Arch stilled his features to mask the gratitude he felt for his brother-in-law. “Yup. That’s how I’ll travel, until I get my license back. My parole officer should have called your office already to fill you in on all that.”
“Parole officer, huh?” The deputy’s eyes went thoughtful in a way that chilled Arch’s bones. “I didn’t talk to him. But I know we have to be extra careful when we have an ex-convict around.” He pulled the handcuffs off his belt. “Considering that you’re a parolee, I’m sure you’ll understand why I need to put these on you while I give the office a call.”
“No, I don’t understand at all.” Arch eyed the cuffs with loathing. “I’m not causing any problems. Go call your office and see what my parole officer had to say. I’ll stay right here.”
“I’ll vouch for him,” Todd said.
But Deputy Norris had devolved into Patrick Norris, and Patrick couldn’t resist the chance to show his power. He shook his head. “I can’t be too careful. Arch knows the drill. Parolees are second-class citizens. Plus, you’ve spent plenty of time in cuffs, right, Arch? So it’s no big deal.” He waddled closer to Arch. “Turn around,” he ordered.
Hot bile convulsed up Arch’s throat and he was sure he’d be sick all over Patrick’s shiny brown shoes. Somehow he held it in.
“This is not okay.” Todd started forward. “It can’t be legal.”
“Just leave it.” Arch shoved the words out over the nasty taste in his mouth. The last thing he wanted was for his brother-in-law to get himself in trouble defending him. Todd had already lied to cover Arch’s mistake with the truck, and even that wouldn’t go over well with Nora. “Let Patrick get his rocks off. The sooner he has his fun, the sooner we can all get on with our day.”
He put his hands behind his back and offered them to Patrick. “Try not to get too excited, Patty. I’m assuming you and Connor usually reserve these kinds of games for your private time together.”
Connor came at him with fist raised, but Todd caught his arm before he made contact. “What...you need him cuffed so you can get up the guts to hit him? Back off, Connor.”
Connor brought his hand down reluctantly, settling for spitting on the ground near Arch’s feet instead.
The cuffs wrapped hard talons around Arch’s wrists.
Todd pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up. “I’m going to take a video of whatever the hell you two clowns try next. So just keep in mind that whatever happens here may go viral.”
Patrick gave Todd a look of fury, and Arch braced himself for what was sure to be a rough pat down. Anxiety and shame warred. The claustrophobic cuffs felt like they were snapped around his lungs as well as his wrists.
Patrick bent down to start his search at Arch’s ankles. Todd leaned right over his shoulder with his phone camera and started narrating. “Deputy Patrick Norris has cuffed an innocent man simply because he is on parole,” he intoned in a solemn voice. It sounded ridiculous, as Todd clearly meant it to be, and Arch’s stress was replaced by an overwhelming urge to laugh. Norris ran his hands up Arch’s legs and patted around, while Todd continued his narration. “Deputy Norris is now feeling the innocent man’s crotch.”
The breath Arch had been holding came out in a hoot of laughter, and Patrick dropped his hands and stood up, running his hands over the pockets of Arch’s jeans. “Empty your pockets!” he barked.
“The deputy is asking the man to empty his pockets,” Todd said.
“And I can’t,” Arch added. “Because I’ve been handcuffed.” His eyes met Todd’s and the two men burst out laughing.
Patrick shoved his hands into Arch’s pockets and brought out Arch’s car keys, holding them up triumphantly. “Ha! Explain these!”
“Deputy Norris has found a set of keys,” Todd proclaimed, his laughter breaking through his words. He brought his phone close to the deputy’s hand. “I am zooming in on his discovery.”
“Back off!” Patrick yelled, his voice sounding like the teenager Arch remembered.
“They’re my brother’s house keys,” Arch answered. Which was the partial truth.
The deputy set them on the ground and gave Arch a few more pats on his torso, Todd closely documenting each touch. “Satisfied with your little movie?” Patrick sneered when he’d finished. “Just what we need, a hippie activist in our town.”
“Sorry, Deputy.” Todd looked as if he was enjoying this entire exchange mightily. “But you’re stuck with me. We’ll just have to find a way to get along. Peace and rainbows and all that.”
Patrick shook his head and stomped over to the patrol car to call his office.
Arch stared at Todd in admiration. “What the hell, bro? I’d high-five you if I could.”
“This sucks.” Todd nodded toward Arch’s trapped hands. “But I’m saving this video. We’ll laugh about it for years to come.”
“You’ve been in these types of situations before,” Arch said.
“I was an environmental activist for a long time.” Todd dropped his voice low, glancing over to make sure neither Connor nor Patrick could hear. “I’ve been arrested a time or two for protests, things like that.”
“And my sister married you?” Arch knew that Nora had an understandable horror of anything unlawful.
“It took some convincing.” Todd smiled like a guy who really did believe in peace and rainbows. “She’s an amazing person.”
Deputy Norris was off his call and scribbling furiously in his notebook. Arch could tell he hadn’t gotten the information he’d hoped for. His face was puckered and red like he’d taken a shot of moonshine.
Arch leaned over so Todd could hear his whisper. “Keep that video camera ready. These guys are definitely carrying an old grudge. Maybe they finally figured out who was behind those Thursday flat tires.”
Todd gave him a wink and then took a couple of steps closer to Connor, who was lurking near his deputy buddy. “I’m sorry.” His voice mimicked polite apology. “But with the sheriff here today, I’m getting really behind schedule. So your tractor won’t be ready until tomorrow morning. You’ll have to come back and pick it up then.”
“But—”
Todd cut him off. “There are only so many minutes in a day, and you’ve used a bunch of them up with this bullshit.”
Connor stalked off to lean on his big pickup, parked near the door of the shop. He folded his arms and waited, obviously intent on seeing the end result of the chaos he’d caused.
Deputy Norris’s reluctance to end his big moment was evident in each step he took toward Arch. He clutched the handcuff keys like a toy he didn’t want to share. “My boss says he spoke with your parole officer. He knows you did your time. You’re clear, for now. He said to tell you that he’ll be checking in on you pretty often.”
Relief surged through Arch’s veins. He’d made a huge mistake driving here today. He wouldn’t make it again.
“So unlock the cuffs,” Todd urged. Arch tried to convey his gratitude in a glance. He wouldn’t beg, but he wanted the metal off him with a longing so deep it ached. They were a symbol of every sadistic creep he’d come across in jail. Creeps just like Patrick Norris. He couldn’t count the times he’d been tripped, hands cuffed and unable to catch his fall, by some pissed-off prison guard. This felt way too close to those dark times.
Arch turned, and Patrick unlocked the cuffs. “Better behave yourself, Hoffman, or I’ll be slapping these right back on.”
“I’m getting this all on video,” Todd reminded him.
Arch shoved his freed hands into his pockets, just to keep them under control.
“I think you’re out of line, Deputy,” Todd said. “And I mean to speak with the sheriff about what went on here today. Mike Davidson’s a good man, and he won’t be happy when I tell him how Arch was treated.”
The deputy looked uncomfortable, glancing over at his buddy. But Connor looked away, as if he’d had no part in all of this unpleasantness. It was kind of sad to see how the two men hadn’t changed. “He always did make you do his dirty work, Patrick.” Arch kept his voice quiet, so Connor wouldn’t hear. “I’m surprised you’re still content to be his lackey after all these years.”
“Shut up, Arch,” Patrick sneered, a high school kid again.
Arch gave up trying to reach the humanity in him. “If you’re finished, Todd and I have things we need to do.”
Todd stayed with Arch, watching as the deputy’s car and Connor’s oversize pickup rolled out of the lot. “Not the greatest homecoming.” He clapped a hand to Arch’s shoulder. “I apologize that happened at my shop.” Disgust dripped from Todd’s voice. “It’s obvious those two have it in for you.”
“Well, not for nothing. I did all I could to give them, and everyone else in this town, a hard time when I lived here. I don’t like their vigilante attitude, but I don’t blame them for seeing me as a menace.”
“But they have to realize that ten years in jail can change things,” Todd said.
“A lot of guys are changed for the worse by doing time. And the verdict is still out on me.” Arch’s voice shook even though he tried to hold it still. “I made my first big mistake, driving down here today. It’s my old attitude coming through. Thinking that whatever I want or need is above the law.”
“I don’t see it that way,” Todd said. “You drove here because you were worried about Mandy. To me that’s different. Nora has told me plenty of stories about you. But honestly, now that I’ve met you, it’s hard to connect you with that guy.”
“Oh, I’m him.” Arch felt the bitter taste of it in his mouth. “And he’s me. I live with that every day.”
“Well, maybe if someone I respected got upset about your return I’d have more understanding. But Connor—what an idiot. Throwing his money around like it will buy him anything. If I didn’t want to get his tractor off my property so badly, I’d take it to pieces and leave it for him to put back together. I don’t need his business enough to put up with him again.”
Unfamiliar emotion washed over Arch’s skin. “I wish I’d known you when I was younger,” he blurted out. “I could have used a friend like you.”
Todd’s answering nod was accompanied by a devil’s smile. “You might just change your mind. Because now that I covered for you with that bike story, you have to ride out of here on my bike. I’d bet a hundred bucks that Deputy Norris is waiting around the corner to catch you driving that old truck. You do know how to ride a bike, don’t you?”
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