To Trust A Rancher. Debbi Rawlins
that’s fine. I appreciate the heads-up.” Her voice sounded remarkably calm considering she could barely breathe. “What did you tell him?”
“Just that you didn’t work here anymore and I didn’t know where you were. I hope that was okay.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” She knew Maureen was curious, but the restaurant was busy and Becca easily ended the call.
She pressed a hand to her roiling stomach. Did this mean Amy had gotten away and he was looking for her? He would assume Becca knew her whereabouts. But if Amy had escaped, wouldn’t she have called? She knew Becca was worried...
In a few steps, she had the envelope in her trembling hand. She glanced at Noah, still asleep, before she tore through the flap.
The letter was short, written in Amy’s scratchy handwriting. Moving to the doorway where the light was better, Becca started to read.
Her stomach lurched with each sentence, and she finished in a stupor.
She blinked, but the haze wouldn’t clear.
Amy had lied. About her father, her brother, the abuse. About everything. And she’d used those lies to get Becca to come with her to LA.
Anger overwhelmed every other emotion spinning uncontrollably inside her. Becca hadn’t wanted to leave. She’d enrolled in community college, paid for it herself with her savings. She’d found a part-time job that had accommodated her school schedule, and best of all, she could’ve done it all while staying with her grandparents.
A sob slipped past her lips and she quickly covered her mouth.
Oh, God, how she’d hurt them, the two people who’d loved her more than anything else in the world. Who would’ve moved mountains for her. And she’d done it all for nothing.
The disappointment in Grams’s eyes the day Becca had left still haunted her. It would always haunt her. All because Amy had lied out of complete and utter selfishness. And her dad and brother? The hatred that had burned in Becca’s gut when she’d thought Ryder had—
Another sob threatened. She turned away from the bedroom at the same time her cell rang. Noah lifted his head, rubbing his eyes.
She didn’t recognize the caller’s number. Maybe the burner phone she’d suggested to Amy?
Becca answered quickly.
“You have something that belongs to me, bitch.” Derek’s menacing voice came through loud and clear. “And I want him back.”
Blackfoot Falls had changed in the years since Becca had last been home. Lots of shops that had closed because of the poor economy were now open again, as well as new stores she didn’t recognize.
Someone had bought the old boardinghouse on the south side of town and turned it into a cute inn that kept the early-1900s feel intact. It would’ve been fun to stay there, but the new motel on the opposite end of town had larger rooms and was ten dollars cheaper. Since Becca had no idea how long they would be away, she needed to watch every penny.
After Derek’s call, she’d known she had to get out of town, and coming home was the most sensible option. Noah’s safety was her first concern while she waited for Amy to call. But if Amy didn’t, and that was a real possibility no matter how much Becca hoped otherwise, she needed a clear head to tackle the gut-wrenching decision that would change her and Noah’s life forever.
So she’d called her boss and pleaded for some personal leave due to a family emergency, which wasn’t a lie at all. She’d worried, though, about where they’d stay until she found out what was going on with her grandparents’ house. It was old to begin with, and being vacant for so long could mean it wasn’t move-in ready.
Becca was happy with her choice. Their second-floor room was clean and comfortable, the queen-size bed had a mauve and green comforter that matched the curtains. A small round table with two sturdy chairs stood near a window facing the Rockies. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed the mountains, and a sky that was actually blue.
It took her two trips to bring up their gear, three bags of ice and the cooler she’d packed with Noah’s snacks and drinks. Next on the list was a run to the Food Mart. After driving for sixteen hours, all she wanted was to curl up and sleep for a week. But they needed some reasonably healthy food they could eat in the room. Restaurant meals weren’t in her budget.
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Noah said, almost on cue as they stepped out into the corridor.
“I know, sweetie. We’re going to the store right now.” She pulled the door closed and tested the knob to make sure the lock had engaged.
“I’m hungry now,” he whined and took her hand.
“Would you like an apple?”
He made a face.
Becca smiled, knowing he was hoping for a cookie. “Guess you’re not that hungry then, huh?”
He started to pout, then saw the elevator. “Mommy, let’s ride that again.” His hand slipped out of hers and he raced ahead. “I’ll push the button.”
“Wait. You don’t know which—” Sighing, she caught up to him just as the doors slid open. Oh, well, they’d ride up first. She held onto his arm. “Noah, don’t touch the button until I tell you. And no more running inside. You know better.”
His sulkiness didn’t last long. He was too excited about their big ’venture. Becca had encouraged the idea to keep his spirits up. Sometimes, when her mind started wandering to bad places, she needed the illusion herself.
The grocery store was only a five-minute walk but she took the car. Inevitably she’d be running into people she knew, and there would be questions. Many, many questions. But she wasn’t prepared to be an open target yet.
She thought again about Amy’s family and the decision that had to be made. Becca felt sick every time she remembered the vile thoughts she’d harbored toward the Mitchells. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she sometimes wished she’d discover that Amy hadn’t lied back then and that her letter was the lie. Maybe now that her father had passed and Ryder was married, she’d felt it was all right to bring Noah to her mother.
No, that was panic talking. Becca didn’t want the lies she’d believed to be true at all.
She sighed. This trip would tell her a lot. She just hoped she was strong enough to make the hardest decision of her life.
* * *
RYDER TURNED INTO the parking lot of the Food Mart, not at all surprised that it was jam-packed. He’d tried to warn his mom. With Thanksgiving in three days, naturally the place would be a zoo. Why so many people waited until the last minute was one of life’s eternal mysteries.
“There’s a spot,” she said, pointing. “Three down from the entrance. It’s a good thing we brought my car. Your truck never could’ve squeezed in.”
Ryder didn’t comment. He hated driving the compact. It was too uncomfortable for someone over six feet, but since her stroke, he knew getting in and out of the car was easier on her. Since she didn’t drive anymore, he’d considered trading it in for a medium-size sedan. But she loved the old Ford, and even after two years, her doctor insisted that a great deal of her problems were psychosomatic.
The prognosis had nearly earned poor old Doc Heaton a whack from his patient’s cane. She’d even used a couple of words Ryder was surprised she knew. He and the doc didn’t talk about it anymore...at least not in her presence.
On occasion, Ryder suggested she try setting the cane aside for an hour, just to see how she fared. She always looked so hurt that her only son didn’t believe her.
After he helped her