Second Chance Rancher. Brenda Minton
cleared his throat. “What about a three-month listing?”
Haven shrugged.
Dane glanced from his sister to the paper. A three month contract would give them the opportunity to sell. And the opportunity to make sure this was what they wanted.
“I think that would work. No signs. No listing it publicly. I don’t want our neighbors to know that the place is up for sale.”
“Discreet is my middle name. If I have buyers looking for a property that fits this description, I’ll call you.” Jeff pulled a briefcase out of his truck. “I have the paperwork we wrote up last week. I just need your signature.”
Dane accepted a pen and the contract, and after a deep breath and a prayer, he signed. Then Haven signed. It was done. Jeff shook their hands and left.
“I have to go. Issy and Lois are reading a book.” Haven glanced at her watch. “Lois is a gem.”
“I couldn’t do it without her,” Dane acknowledged. He started to walk away. “She’s going to be gone, what with her daughter having a baby. But Maria Palermo said she’d help out.”
“Maria is really good with her, Dane. Let her help.”
Let someone else into his daughter’s life. Yes, he knew that he needed to ease up a little. He had to trust people. He had to trust Issy. It was easy to say, but then he would remember how it had felt to hold his little girl at night while she cried for her mama. A mother who had walked away without a backward glance.
“Was that Lucy Palermo I saw sliding back into town?” Haven asked. He could hear the humor in her tone. Great that she thought it was amusing.
When a man put a woman at risk, he had a hard time recovering his sense of humor. He’d been too young to realize that their secret meetings would create such an uproar at the Palermo ranch. He hadn’t known how to handle it when she’d told him they were done, that she couldn’t see him anymore. After that she’d closed herself off from him and everyone else.
“Yeah, it was Lucy.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
He shrugged and managed a smile for his sister. “It’s okay. She’s here to take charge of Maria and the ranch.”
“She won’t stay long. She never does.”
No, she didn’t. He didn’t blame her.
“I’ve got to head to town and pick up some supplies I ordered from the feed store. Need anything?”
“No, nothing.” Haven glanced at her watch. “Pastor Matthews called. He’s putting together the groups that will help with the shelter renovation.”
“I’ll call him. Or stop by there. Tell Lois I won’t be gone long.”
The shelter. As he got in his truck he wondered if anyone had told Lucy what the new pastor had done with her father’s church.
Less than a half mile from his driveway he saw Lucy’s truck parked on the side of the road. She was in the ditch, pulling fence. She stopped, wiped her face with the bandanna tied around her neck and went back to work. She had to know he was there but she didn’t spare him a glance. He smiled. She’d always been so self-contained.
Except that summer thirteen years ago. It had all started when he saw her riding the back fence of the Palermo property. She was pretending to check fence but later she told him she’d just needed to get away from her dad so she’d offered to clean out the weeds along that fence. They’d been neighbors their whole lives but that summer something shifted. When he saw her on that horse, he saw a woman, not the little girl in raggedy clothes and pigtails he’d always known.
But she hadn’t been a woman. They’d both been kids. They hadn’t been mature enough to handle what they felt, or her home life.
He got out of his truck and joined her at the fence, pulling on gloves before grabbing the line of barbed wire she was stringing between new posts. She gave him a quick look but kept working.
“I told you I’d have a couple of my guys do this,” he said as they worked together.
“I told you I would do it myself.”
“Stubborn,” he said with a smile and some admiration.
“Yeah, you’ve said that before. So let’s not go back there.”
“Because you still won’t talk about it?” Suddenly he wished he’d taken her advice and let it go. There was no point in going back.
Lucy stopped working. She pulled off her gloves and shoved them in her pockets. “You were right. Let your guys fix this. I’ll cover the cost.”
She stomped away. He let her get a few feet ahead of him, then he followed. He didn’t really know when to quit. It was something his mom had been telling him for as long as he could remember.
“Lucy, wait.” He caught up with her on the shoulder of the road. “I’m sorry for pushing.”
“Good, so don’t do it again. I’m here to take care of my sister and to make things right on our ranch. I don’t have time for anything else. I don’t want anything else.”
That couldn’t be any clearer than the nose on his face. It was the same message she’d given him that long-ago summer.
“I understand.” He held out a gloved hand. She gave it a long look before accepting the gesture. “Friends?”
“Neighbors.” But she smiled as she said it.
Neighbors? He could handle that.
“How’s the bodyguard business?” he asked as they headed for their vehicles.
“Busy.” She folded her arms in front of herself. “Is this really what we’re going to do?”
“Safe conversation. Isn’t that what you want?” He should walk away. Because nothing felt safe with Lucy. But he kept going.
“Let’s stick to the weather.”
“Okay.” He glanced up at the blue sky. “I sure love spring but we need rain.”
She walked away from him but he saw a flash of a smile on her face. “I have to go.”
He debated telling her about the shelter—he didn’t want her to be blindsided. If she didn’t know about the church, she should.
“Lucy, they have a new pastor at the church. They’ve changed the name.”
She froze, her hand on the truck door. “Okay. Good to know.”
“It isn’t the same.” They both knew what that meant. Her dad had called it a church but it had been a cult. He’d controlled his flock, taken their money and left them empty and lost.
He’d done the most damage to his own family.
“I’m sure it’s not,” she answered.
“It’s a good place now. They’re starting a shelter for abused women.”
Women like the ones who had attended the church her father pastored. A church where men were encouraged to force their wives and children into submission.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said with a catch in her voice.
He started to reach for her but he knew she wouldn’t welcome his touch. The very last thing he needed to be doing was building a connection. She was still broken. He had his own life now. He had a daughter who needed his full attention and he didn’t have time for relationships that were destined not to end well.
“You should stop by and see what they’re doing,” he suggested. “It might be good for you, to see it in a new light.”
“I’ll think about it. But you don’t