The Rancher's Return. Karen Whiddon
“The bank didn’t want me back,” he said quietly. “And who could blame them? Not many people are willing to hire a felon, even though my murder conviction was overturned. The ranch brings in a nice income, which I supplement with my own business.”
“Which is?”
He found himself hesitating, not sure exactly why. He was proud of what he’d accomplished, and the way his orders had grown so much he’d had to hire a couple of guys to help him out, precutting forms in bulk. “I make custom bird feeders and birdhouses. I sell them from my website.”
“Really?” The surprised pleasure in her voice washed over him. “That’s amazing. You’ll have to show me the website later, assuming you have internet way out here.”
“We do. I purchased mobile Wi-Fi, so I’m never without internet access.” Slowing the truck down, he squinted into the darkness. “Brace yourself. We’re fixing to go off road.”
There—the fence post with the three boards nailed to it, making a small triangle, with a letter W in the middle. Putting on the brakes, he let his headlights point out the marker. “See that? Pyramid W Ranch.”
“W for Westbrook?”
He grinned, pleased. “Yep. Are you ready?”
At her nod, he turned the truck toward the gap in the fence. “Hang on.” The tires rattled as they crossed the metal crossing guard. “The road’s kind of rutted in places, so get ready to bounce.”
He’d barely gotten the last word out when they hit the first of many crevices. Once they were over, he turned to glance at her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” One hand gripped the door handle, the other the dashboard in front of her. “My teeth are clattering, but I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Because we’ve still got a ways to go.”
By the time they reached the turnoff that wound up the hill to his small ranch house, Kaitlyn appeared weary.
“We’re almost there,” he told her. “And my driveway is much better, I promise.”
She nodded. “Great.”
Finally, they crested the hill and his headlights illuminated the frame building. It was small, but he’d always found it homey, especially since he and Tim had come here often as kids to visit his uncle. He supposed the memories of his childhood here made the ranch feel more like home than anywhere else.
“Very nice,” Kaitlyn commented. “It looks like you keep it up well. Or do you have a ranch foreman or someone living there while you’re gone?”
“My ranch foreman has a mobile home on the other side of the property. I try to come out here at least once a month. Sometimes more.”
She turned and touched his arm, surprising him. “Are you sure no one in town knows about this place?”
“I have a friend or two,” he replied. “Brock McCauley and his wife Zoe. But they won’t say anything without checking with me first.”
“Zoe?” Kaitlyn appeared surprised. “Brock and Zoe finally got together?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t help but smile. “They’re among a handful of people who don’t treat me like a leper, as though serving time tainted me with poison.”
He knew he sounded bitter but he didn’t care.
“I’m sorry,” Kaitlyn said, touching him again. He had to force himself not to twist away.
“Come on.” Killing the engine, he left the headlights on so they could see the front door. “I’ll turn them off once I can get the porch light on.”
“You should get a motion-sensor light,” she said.
“I’d thought about that, except then any critter crossing my yard would activate it.”
“Good point.”
He got out and crossed around to her side, intending to open her door for her. The manners his mama had taught him ran deep, but Kaitlyn had already gotten out by the time he reached her.
“Come on,” he said, leading the way to the front door. “I’ve put in one of those locks where you just enter a code.” That said, he punched it in, waiting until the dead bolt had turned before pushing the door open and flicking the light switch to On.
“Here we go.” He couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. Inside were oak hardwood floors, with matching baseboards. The furniture looked comfortably worn, a sort of cowboy shabby chic.
“Wow.” She walked around the living room, examining the display of Western art he’d carefully displayed. “Nice.”
“Thank you.”
He showed her the guest room, which did double duty as his office, along with the hall bathroom. “It’s only a two-bedroom house. That couch makes out into a bed.”
She nodded, her expression pensive. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to freshen up and then turn in. It’s been a long day and it’s late. I’m exhausted.”
“I understand.” He pointed the way to his linen closet, where he kept extra towels as well as linens to make up the sofa sleeper. “If you’re thirsty or get hungry, help yourself to anything in the fridge. I keep it well stocked.”
Her tired smile underscored her earlier statement. “Thank you.”
He wasn’t sure how to reply, so he settled on a nod. A moment later, she quietly closed the door, shutting him out.
Which was good, he told himself, turning to head back to his kitchen. He needed to do some thinking so he could formulate some sort of plan.
Despite the prominent hump in the middle of the sofa bed, Kaitlyn slept deeply. More deeply than she had in a long time. She was free, and she’d finally taken charge of her destiny. If everything worked out, Alex would finally face justice and Reed’s name would be cleared once and for all.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds covering the window. She jumped up, turned the blinds to open, and peered outside, squinting into the brightness. She couldn’t see much, just a medium-sized, live oak tree.
Fine. She’d explore the ranch after she’d had a shower and breakfast.
Reed. Just the thought of him, broad-shouldered and muscular, had her heart skipping a beat. There was a new edginess to him that he didn’t have before, a darkness lurking in his eyes. Oddly enough, this only made him more attractive.
No, she reminded herself. Reed was part of the past, the past she wanted to forget. As soon as she was free, she planned to make a new future, as far away from Texas as she could get.
Later, with her hair still damp from the shower, wearing a clean T-shirt and jeans, she emerged from her room, following the tantalizing scent of coffee to the kitchen. Reed sat at the kitchen table, his laptop open before him. He looked up as she entered, and smiled absently.
His masculine confidence made him beautiful. Mesmerized, she froze. Only when she reminded herself to stop being foolish was she able to move forward. “The coffee smells wonderful.”
“I hope you like it strong.” He pointed to a cup he’d set out on the counter for her. “There’s some powdered creamer, too, and sugar if you need it.”
“I do and I do.” She took a deep breath and told herself to relax. Preparing her coffee helped, since the relatively normal act was something she’d had no control over for the past three years. If she got coffee, she’d had to drink it black, and Alex had seemed to delight in making it as bitter as possible.
Her