Her Man On Three Rivers Ranch. Stella Bagwell

      After a few moments, the rugged beauty of the land began to soothe her jumpy nerves and before long she was gasping with delight. “Look, Blake, at the water hole! There’s a big herd of antelope. Aww—and all those babies! They’re beautiful!”

      He glanced at the wildlife. “Looks like this area has been blessed with a bit of rain. Grass has greened the slopes and given the antelope and deer plenty to eat.”

      She stared at the herd of animals until they were completely out of view, then looked over at him. “I have to admit that living in San Diego was nice. But I missed Arizona,” she said wistfully. “The desert and the saguaros. The rock bluffs and pine-covered mountains. And all the deer and antelope.”

      “You forgot to add the blistering heat and months without rain. Along with the rattlesnakes, horned lizards and javelina,” he added jokingly.

      She smiled. “Strange, isn’t it? That a person can get attached to such a rugged place.”

      “Hmm. It’s all I’ve ever known. So it doesn’t seem strange to me. I’d feel stifled if I had to live in a city.” He cast a curious glance in her direction. “Is that one of the reasons you decided to stay in Wickenburg after your father died? Because you missed this area?”

      She took a moment to think about his question. “I’ll be honest, Blake, twelve years ago when I left with Mom and my brother, I never expected to see the place again. I thought I’d never want to return to Arizona. You see, when we left Wickenburg, I had high hopes that my life would change. I desperately wanted to better myself. But my life made turns I never expected. And along the way I think I forgot that better doesn’t always equal happiness.”

      “No. Not always,” he quietly agreed.

      Emotions filled her throat and she tried to clear away the lump before she spoke. “This is probably going to sound terrible to you, but I dreaded coming back to Wickenburg. I dreaded seeing the place and seeing Dad. There were plenty of things I didn’t want to be reminded of. But when I walked into our old house and my father reached for my hand... I can’t explain it, but for the first time in years I felt truly at home.”