by Irene Brand
Derek stood and brushed the dust off his clothes. “You’re living in a make-believe world, but I know there’s nothing I can do to stop you.” He wondered at his audacity in talking to Kennedy like that. After all, he’d only known her for a couple of days, and she owned the Circle Cross, where he’d spent the happiest years of his life. She had every right to fire him for meddling. But somehow he didn’t think that was going to happen, for already they were on a first-name basis and sharing confidences and opinions as if they’d known one another for years.
The return trip was largely made in silence. When he reached the road that would have taken them to the ranch, Derek said, “I’ll drive you into Valentine to get the things you need. It would take time for you to find a store, and if you’re determined to stay at Riverside, I need to turn on the water before dark. There’s a deep well that provides water, and we keep the pump turned off, but it’s available in case of a fire. I’ll need to make sure that the appliances are all working, too.”
“Thanks.”
Kennedy wondered if she was being stubborn to stay at Riverside when Derek was so set against it. She wished she could make him understand that with her father no longer living, the Circle Cross was her only tie to the past that hadn’t changed.
Chapter Four
Realizing that it was impossible for him to be irritated at her for long, when they drove into Valentine, Derek said, “Now that we’re here, you might as well take a quick look around town. Valentine is a progressive, friendly town. Its 2,800 residents won’t measure up to where you live in California, but we’re proud of it.” He turned left onto Main Street, and Kennedy was obviously interested in the wide streets, craft shops, and old brick buildings. Derek pointed to Young’s Western Wear on the left of the street. “If you’re going to stay around for a while, you may want to go into that store and buy some Western clothes. For a small town, you can find anything you need here.”
Kennedy’s luminous eyes widened in approval as they turned from Highway 20 onto the main street of town. A small smile of enchantment touched her lips as she reminisced. “When I was a child, Dad and Mother talked a lot about Valentine, and I’ll probably remember some of the places that were dear to them. Derek, I owe it to them to stay here for a while.”
“It’s sometimes called the Heart City, and you’ll eventually learn why.”
“Oh,” Kennedy exclaimed, “look at the beautiful facade of that building.”
“That’s the First National Bank of Valentine, where the Circle Cross accounts are. Those brick relief murals were created by Lincoln artist Jack Curran in the early 1990s. The top mural has running longhorn cattle to symbolize the movement of the cattle industry into the Sandhills. That smaller mural at the bottom tells about the first century of progress in Valentine. The inside of the building is cool, too. Be sure to go in and introduce yourself.” Derek turned onto a side street and parked in front of Scotty’s Ranchland Foods, where his mother shopped. He waited until she came out with a small bag of groceries.
“This is enough for overnight. I’ll have a better idea of what I need tomorrow,” she said.
“I’m glad you didn’t buy much. One night alone will be enough for you. You’ll either move into town or stay with Mom.” A look of unyielding determination crossed her face, and her green eyes flashed impatiently. “Wanna bet?”
“Nope. I never bet on a sure thing.”
A hint of anger flitted across Kennedy’s pale, beautiful face, but she bit her lip and remained silent as she climbed into the cab.
They stopped at ranch headquarters to pick up her car, and he asked his mother for a set of bed linens and some towels. He whistled for Wilson, and the dog jumped onto the front seat with Derek.
Kennedy waved to June and followed him as he drove toward Riverside. He carried in her luggage and put it in the downstairs bedroom. He puttered around for an hour or more, working on the water system, checking the plumbing in the bathroom, making sure the windows were locked, and helping her remove the slipcovers from all the furniture on the first floor. He helped her spread the sheets on the bed. He tested the big flashlight he’d picked up at the Circle Cross bunkhouse and laid it on the bedside stand.
Finally, with a resigned shrug of his shoulders, he said, “I’ve done all I can do.” He scribbled his cell phone and house phone numbers on a sheet of paper and gave it to her. “You’ve got your phone, so call if there’s the least hint of trouble. I don’t suppose I’ll sleep anyway.” After she gave Derek her cell phone number, Kennedy followed him to the door. “You worry too much. I’ll be all right.” Derek saw Wilson nosing around in the underbrush near the house. He whistled. The dog came running, and he directed Wilson to the porch.
“Stay!” he commanded, and although he whined, the dog dropped to the floor at Kennedy’s feet.
“I don’t need a watchdog,” she protested. “Besides, Wilson doesn’t like me.”
Ignoring her comment, Derek stepped off the porch and turned to look up at her standing in the doorway. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”
“I suppose so,” she admitted. “Dad told me more than once when I disagreed with him that, although I had been born a Blaine, I was Gabriel Morgan through and through.”
Smiling in spite of his concern, Derek noticed how much she did resemble her maternal grandfather. “I reckon there are worse things than being stubborn,” he said. He took a quick glance around the clearing, wondering if there was anything else he could do to protect her. He might as well leave, for he knew he couldn’t keep her from doing what she wanted to do. “I had a good time today.”
“So did I. Don’t worry, Derek. Everything will turn out all right.”
She watched him drive away. Derek stuck his hand out the window and waved just before he disappeared from view. When Kennedy knew he could no longer see her, she threw a kiss in his direction and walked into the empty house with Wilson at her heels.
Startled out of an uneasy sleep, Kennedy screamed and bolted out of bed with a shiver of panic. In the darkness of the room, she stubbed her toe on the bedpost and almost fell. Her body stiffened in shock when she realized what had caused her to wake up so abruptly.
Someone was in the bed with her! Her pulse beat erratically, and panic like she’d never known swept through her. With shaking hands she groped in the darkness for the large flashlight Derek had left. After she saw who had invaded her bedroom without waking her, she could use it as a weapon. How could she have slept so soundly that she hadn’t heard someone enter the bedroom? She doubted it was Derek, but who else had a key to the house?
Splaying the beam of light on the bed, her eyes widened in astonishment. She took a glance of utter disbelief before she gasped, “Wilson!” Lying on his side with his head on a pillow and his forepaws on the pillow slip, the dog snored softly. It would have been an amusing sight if she wasn’t so frightened. Kennedy picked up her pillow and threw it at the dog.
“Get off my bed, you mongrel!”
With a terrified howl, in one leap Wilson scampered off the bed and crawled under it. Kennedy swung the light in that direction and saw his reproachful eyes staring at her. Her legs were shaking so much that she couldn’t stand. She collapsed on the side of the bed. It had been a miserable night, for it seemed that every joint and beam in the old house creaked. As she lay awake, Kennedy thought of the past when her mother had come here as a bride. She had wondered in which of the upstairs rooms she’d been born. She had many questions about the past, but her restless night didn’t provide any answers. Her sleep had been troubled, and to wake up in terror was the last straw!
During her wakeful hours, she had conceded that Derek had been right. Her impulse to spend the night in the house was a mistake. More than once she’d considered calling him, but her obstinate Morgan pride kept her from admitting that she’d been wrong.
considered calling him, but her obstinate Morgan pride kept her from admitting that she’d been wrong.
Da
ylight was creeping into the room, and knowing that she wouldn’t go to sleep again, Kennedy shrugged into her long robe and slippers. As she started out of the room, Wilson, still under the bed, whined piteously.
“Well, come on,” she said. “But if you’re going to be my houseguest, we’re going to find some other place for you to spend the night.” Wilson crawled from under the bed and, with his belly almost scraping the floor, came toward her. She bent over and patted his head. He wagged his tail and barked joyfully. “Don’t get carried away,” she said with a grimace. “I’m still mad at you. Let’s eat breakfast.” Wilson sniffed disdainfully at the cold bread she gave him to eat. He took one bite of the bread, chewed it languidly, settled down on his haunches, and peered up at her with liquid, begging brown eyes.
The dog’s actions amused her, and she leaned over and scratched behind his ears. “Sorry! When I bought groceries, I didn’t know you were going to be foisted on me. And I’ve never had a dog, so I don’t know what they eat.”
She boiled water, made a cup of tea, and, not seeing a toaster, put butter on a slice of cold bread. She’d finished eating when the phone rang.
“Just checking to see if you were up,” Derek said cheerfully when she answered.
Smiling and wondering if her pleasure was obvious in her voice, she said, “Of course. Aren’t all ranchers supposed to get up bright and early?”
“Mom fixed your breakfast—I’ll bring it over right away.”
“I’ve just finished eating, so don’t bother.”
“You’re mighty independent all of a sudden,” he said, and Kennedy sensed that he was smiling. “At least I’ll bring something for Wilson.” Laughing, she said, “He’ll appreciate that. He turned up his nose at what I served him.”
“See you in a few.”
Kennedy hurried to the bedroom and changed quickly into the jeans and shirt she’d worn yesterday. She brushed her teeth and had just run a brush through her hair when she heard Derek’s truck approaching the house. With a yelp, Wilson hurried toward the door, his toenails clacking on the hardwood floor like hailstones on a tin roof. When Kennedy opened the door, he bounded out on the porch and down the steps to circle Derek. The dog barked excitedly, sniffing at the bag of dog food and a small basket, which Derek carried toward the house. Kennedy stepped out on the porch to greet him.
Derek’s eyes swept her face speculatively. She watched him through dark, lowered lashes, but her eyes were unfathomable. He had no idea whether she resented his visit.
“Good morning,” she said, holding the door open for him. Wilson tagged at their heels as they walked toward the kitchen. Derek glanced at the table with its meager food.
“I see you’re living high on the hog, all right.”
Without comment Kennedy found a bowl in the cabinet, watching while Derek filled it with dry food and put it on the back porch for Wilson.
He opened the basket and removed a foil cover from a plate that held a bowl of fresh fruit, a cinnamon roll, and a small bowl of oatmeal lavishly covered with brown sugar. Placing it on the table, he said, “Mom had an idea you wouldn’t want a rancher’s breakfast.”
“She’s right,” Kennedy said, as she got a fork and spoon from the cabinet and sat down to eat the food. “I haven’t found a coffeemaker yet, but you can make yourself a cup of tea.”
He shook his head and sat down opposite her.
“So, how was your night?” he asked, watching her closely. “Were you afraid?”
Smiling slightly, she said, “If you want the honest truth, I was terrified at the quietness, the darkness, and the strange surroundings.” Relieved, he said, “So you’ll stay with Mom or in a motel while you’re in Nebraska.” Her voice was firm and full of determination when she answered. “No. I’m going to stay right here and overcome my fears. If I’d gotten used to the area during daylight, I’d have been all right. I can study for the bar exams in Nebraska as well as at home, so I’ve decided to spend the summer here.” His heartbeat accelerated to know that she wouldn’t be leaving his life right away, but Derek shook his head. “But you said you were scared.”
“I was and probably will be again, but I intend to get over it.” She looked at him, as if pleading for understanding. “You see, it’s lonely at home, too. With Dad gone, our house seems so empty. Last night, as I looked through photo albums and saw pictures of him I’d never seen—from a few days old until he was a young man—I felt closer to him than I did in California. I know you think it’s just stubbornness, but, really, it isn’t. I believe I can deal better with his death here than at home. Can you understand?”
Her eyes seemed to ask for confirmation of what she wanted to do. “I think so,” he said slowly, “and I’ll help you any way I can. If staying here is that important to you, we’ll manage to keep you protected.”
“I don’t suppose I slept more than an hour all night, and I did a lot of thinking. While I’m here, I want to meet my cousins, Morgan cousins as well as the Blaines.
And I think I have some aunts and uncles on the Blaine side. Now that I have no close family, I want to get acquainted with my extended family.” With a grin, he said, “But not Grandpa Gabriel?”
She shook her head. “No, not even if he wanted to see me, which he won’t. I’m not proud of it, Derek, but I can’t forgive him for being so mean to my mother.” She stood up and looked out the window for a few minutes before she turned toward him with a small tentative smile. “You asked what you could do for me. I suppose more than anything, I need someone to understand why staying here is so important to me.” Somehow Derek had never expected to hear such a pleading note in her voice—he had judged Kennedy Blaine as a woman who had it all together. As he studied her face thoughtfully, he detected uncertainty and a need for belonging. He couldn’t think of anything more to his liking than to see Kennedy every day throughout the summer. But could he handle it? His sleep had been fitful the night before, and Kennedy’s soft but clear, velvety voice had provided a melodious background for his wakeful and slumbering thoughts.
Was he building up heartache for himself? He was halfway in love with her already, and that feeling was bound to increase every time he saw her. After avoiding women for years, why did he have to take an interest in Kennedy Blaine, a woman as far out of his reach as the sun and the moon? In order to get his emotions under control, Derek went to the back porch and turned Wilson outside, wondering how he could be Kennedy’s friend without ruining his own life.
“For what it’s worth,” he said when he reentered the room, “I completely understand why you want to connect with the past. It worries me considerably that I don’t know anything about my roots. I’ll do everything I can to help you. We don’t start the roundup for a few days, when I’ll be busy from daylight until after dark, so how can I help you until then?”
Still standing by the window, she said, “Just advise me. The first thing is to get the house fit to live in and put the grounds in some kind of order.”
“Mom can clean the house.”
She shook her head. “No, I was thinking more on the order of a cleaning service—several people who would come in and clean everything over several days. Is there anything like that in Valentine?”
“I don’t know about a cleaning service, but there are several women and men in Valentine who do domestic work. Mom will know more about it than I do. You
“I don’t know about a cleaning service, but there are several women and men in Valentine who do domestic work. Mom will know more about it than I do. You can ask her. What else?”
“How do I go about finding my cousins?” Kennedy asked.
“Smith Blaine will be the best one to tell you who your relatives are, although some of them attend church where Mom goes. You can go with her on Sunday, and she can introduce you.”
“Don’t you go to church?” Kennedy asked, remembering that he had taken no part in June’s family devotions.
“No, I outgrew church when I was a boy.”
She frowned at him, and from the smile she saw lurking in his eyes, she knew he was trying to ruffle her feathers. She ignored his remark.
“I need to take my rental car back to Omaha and rent a car locally to drive this summer,” Kennedy said. “If you don’t have time to take me, I’ll understand and can wait until Cousin Smith returns. He’s supposed to be back in a week or ten days, and I can ask him to help out with the car. I don’t think he’ll mind.” Derek walked into the hallway. “I’ll take you to turn in the car on Sunday afternoon, and I’ll mention the housecleaners to Mom. You can check with her later to see when they can come.” He hesitated at the door. “It depends on how fancy a car you want,” he said, “but I might have the answer to your transportation problem.”
“I drive a small two-door car at home. Dad made his money by being frugal—and he passed the habit on to me. I’m not hard to please.” When he threw a skeptical glance toward her, she smiled and added, “Not about cars, at least.”
He motioned for her to follow him, and when she stood by his side on the back porch, he pointed to a garage behind the house.
“Your grandfather’s car is still in there. I imagine it’s about twenty years old, but I don’t think it has much mileage on it. If you have a mechanic put it in shape, I imagine it would take you anywhere you want to go this summer.”
“Let’s look at it,” she said.
He took a ring of keys from his pocket, and when they got to the building, he held up the key marked Garage, which she recognized as her grandfather’s writing.
A knot formed in her throat when Derek opened the door. He removed a dusty tarp from the car to reveal a maroon four-door sedan. They walked around the car, and Kennedy noticed that two of the tires were flat. But the body of the car appeared to be in good condition.
He raised the hood and looked over the engine for several minutes. “I figure an oil change, some new tires, and a battery—just a general overhaul—would get the car in super shape. I can ask a mechanic in town to come out and look it over. He might be able to tow it into his garage for repairs.”