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Table of Contents
Synopsis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Laina Villeneuve
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Bella Books
Synopsis
Do you believe in destiny?
Guest-ranch manager Madison Carter certainly does. Abandoned as a small child, she knows little of her past but is convinced that uncovering it will lead her to healing and home. On a journey of self-discovery to the town where she was born she meets Lacey McAlpine. The self-assured, straight-talking entrepreneur Lacey is blessed with loving family and friends and has always shaped her own destiny—or so she believes.
The sparks fly almost immediately, but the women’s contrasting personalities and what Lacey perceives as Madison’s secretive nature keep them from igniting—just yet. Their friendship deepens to passionate romance, however, when Madison moves into town to open her own guest ranch—and begins to open up about herself.
A lock without a key, a box of childhood treasures and a scruffy white horse begin to illuminate Madison’s shadowed past. Despite her Miss-Fix-It attitude, Lacey will soon learn that it will take a little destiny to repair a broken soul.
Copyright © 2016 by Laina Villeneuve
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
First Bella Books Edition 2016
eBook released 2016
Editor: Cath Walker
Cover Designer: Judith Fellows
ISBN: 978-1-59493-510-7
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Other Bella Books by Laina Villeneuve
Take Only Pictures
The Right Thing Easy
Such Happiness as This
About the Author
Laina Villeneuve thought that growing up with more than a dozen cousins would prepare her for marrying into the Villeneuve family. She was wrong. Her entry into the fold was a call in the wee hours of the morning from the Easter Bunny and his assistant.
Acknowledgments
Just as I started getting to know these characters, my sister and I started having monthly dinners. Thanks Kat for always lying when I asked if I talked about the book too much. Belated thanks for helping me get the right music on my playlist for writing.
My family, both immediate and extended, has a gift for stories and for memory. Thanks for letting me capture some homes, holidays and car history we share.
Thanks again to Citrus colleagues, especially Dr. Salwak whose book Faith in the Family planted the seed that began this book. Professor Korn gave me great material for my auto technician. Dr. Peters, thank you for your thoughts on the presidents. Professor Woolum, thanks for your guidance on legal issues. Proffessora McGarry thank you for your insights on the story line and character development. Professor Eisel, get ready for lunch!
A huge thank-you to my fellow Bella writers who offered me advice on how to tighten up both style and story. Blayne Cooper, Rachel Gold and Jaime Clevenger, I’m so fortunate to have met you and been able to talk through stories with you.
Thanks again to my editor Cath Walker who has improved my vocabulary and helped me round off loose ends. The more I talk about editing and revising, the luckier I feel to have been paired with you.
My lovely wife continues to contribute to character and story development, but more importantly, puts up with super long phone conversations and hours spent emailing people to try to create the strongest story possible. I hope the final product is worth the times I slip away to write, revise and edit.
Thanks also to my readers. It means so much to me to know that my stories resonate with you. Few things beat hearing what you think of the finished product!
Dedication
For my mom
I got just the right one
Chapter One
Madison
“How’s Paradise?”
I groaned inwardly at the joke that never got old for anyone except me. One more reason I was glad I only lived in the small northern Californian town for two months of the year. “A fair bit drier than where you are, boss,” I responded. The news kept reporting the record snowfall in eastern Oregon where I managed Steve’s guest ranch the rest of the year. I wasn’t used to him calling during my time off, but I’d anticipated it with the weather. “Are you calling for reinforcements, or are you going to have to push opening day?”
“Yeah, about that.” He sighed heavily.
His tone made my stomach drop.
“Steve?” He had always begged me to come back. I had practical experience at almost any job on the ranch and wasn’t above pitching in at the corrals, in the kitchen, even with minor repairs, but I also had a degree in business management and ran the place more smoothly than anyone he’d ever had. He routinely took his own vacation while I was at the helm knowing that I ran the place exactly as he did.
“Timmy’s wife kicked him out for good.”
I’d worked with him before. Steve often pulled his brother-in-law in at the peak of the season when he needed an e
xtra hand. Like me, he could fill any role. Any role, my brain reminded me. He could take my role. “He’s going to be your manager?” I tried to sound neutral, but my throat had constricted making the words squeak.
“I don’t have a choice. He’s family. I have to help him out. You know we think the world of you. If you’re interested in one of the other jobs…”
“No.” I set down the heavy biography about Roosevelt’s and Taft’s presidencies I’d been reading when he called. I am a big-picture person. I do best when I have a lot to juggle. Put me on one task for a season, and I’d be knocking-my-head-against-the-barn bored in a week.
“I’d be happy to write you a letter…”
“Thanks,” I said, pressing three fingertips to my forehead. I fanned them from eyebrows to hairline in an attempt to center myself. “I’ll let you know if I need it.”
“Maybe—”
Pressing my head to my fingers again, I interrupted him. “Thanks for letting me know early.” I hit end and set down my phone. Eyes closed, I considered my next move. My savings put me in a position to be choosy about my next job, but the enormity of what was out there and how I would ever find it felt overwhelming. I suppose I was feeling the way people who are dumped feel. There’s that old saying about there being more fish in the sea, but I could never figure out how that’s supposed to help anyone figure out how to catch one of them. I didn’t have any experience dating, but I’d invested all I had in Steve’s business. And now I’d been cut loose.
I’d been with Steve long enough to feel like family. I’d thought he considered me family, but real family… Real families complicate everything.
“Madison, honey! You joining us for lunch?”
The smell of bacon hit me the same time as Ruth’s voice.
Knowing that she would have returned to the iron skillet on the stove, I descended the stairs to give my answer. “Of course,” I said, leaning against the lightweight door to the entry hall that could be shut, but never was. It had a simple gold turnlock that sent out a small circular tongue. I flicked it in and out as I looked out the window at the acres of ranch land where I’d lived most of my life.
I heard Bo at the back door, the distinct thud of his work boots before he closed it and then the run of water as he scrubbed up. He’d come into the kitchen still drying his hands with the hand towel, his thin hair askew from his felt Stetson and the quick scrub he gave his face. Ruth hated how he moved that towel. She wouldn’t be able to sit down to eat until she returned it to the hook by the sink.
“What’s wrong?” He rested his hand on mine.
“Nothing,” I said clicking the tongue back inside the door to leave it unlocked.
“Plenty to do out there if you’re restless in here,” he said, setting the towel down on the kitchen counter.
Ruth frowned at the towel. “Girl’s got a right to rest on her vacation.” I felt her blue eyes on me, but it was Bo who spoke.
“Just ’cause your body is still doesn’t mean your mind isn’t spinning.” He turned from Ruth to me. “You might as well spill it now before your mouth gets busy with lunch.”
I’d always found Ruth to be formal and reserved with me whereas Bo was intuitive to my emotional state. He’d do anything to see that I got what I wanted. That’s where the trouble was, I realized. I had to know what I wanted, and what most prominently rattled in my brain was scary. “Steve doesn’t need me back,” I said frankly as Ruth handed around plates with two pieces of toasted bread for us to turn into BLTs.
With the backs of her wrists, catlike in her movements, Ruth brushed tendrils of gray back from her stunned face. “Excuse me?”
“His brother-in-law needs the job.”
She bristled crisply as she made her sandwich. Bo stood mutely when she snatched his plate back without a word to load up his two pieces of bread. “At least he paid you well all those years. You’re not hurting for money until you find something else, are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Because if you’re not…”
“No. I’ve got some savings set aside. Now I have to figure out what it means”
“What it means?” Ruth wiped her hands on her apron before shoving Bo’s plate into his midsection, forcing him into motion. “Why wouldn’t it mean finding another place to manage?”
I delivered my sandwich to the table and returned to the stove to pour two coffees. I set the doctored one by my spot and a steaming black cup in front of Bo.
He nodded his thanks but sat with his forearms on the table on either side of his plate, making up his mind about what to say. “She doesn’t have to manage.” He turned his bright blue eyes on me. “You don’t. You could find your own place, be your own boss. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” he said, looking pointedly at me before he picked up his sandwich and took a bite big enough that he’d polish off the lot with five more.
As he chewed, Ruth sat with her hands on her lap, her sandwich untouched. “You want to buy a place? If you want your own place, stay here. We’re not getting any younger, you know, and we would love to have you here.”
“You two are still plenty young, and you’ve got all the help you need.” I bit into my sandwich and looked out the window at their ranch hand’s double-wide trailer. I spent a lot of time as a child right there watching out the window, waiting for him to come home. It mattered more to me when I was young and still wanted my father, but he never stopped working. I’d seen him fold a sandwich in half and tuck it in his breast pocket to eat in the saddle. Even when the ranch fed him, like when they did a branding party, he’d stand with his plate. When forced to sit, he inhaled his meal without a single comment and found any reason to excuse himself from the table.
I used to think that he was on the go to get away from me. As someone who had put in five years for an employer, I now considered the possibility that he worked all those hours to make himself indispensable. My father had given Bo and Ruth a good twenty years. I was pretty confident that they would always take care of him, but if they sold where would that put him, or us, if I accepted their offer?
“Madison’s in a position to explore her own dreams, not get stuck with a bunch of cattle,” Bo said.
“I would miss booking the trips and sharing a piece of beautiful country with people. I’m good with people,” I agreed. I’d always been better with people than Steve. Even though I’d never felt like I could truly call Bo and Ruth’s place home, or maybe because I always felt that edge of being a guest, I had a knack at making people feel at home on their vacation.
I’d never been entirely home, not where I lived, certainly not where I worked. Not for the first time, the home I didn’t really remember came to mind, the one in the background of the faded square pictures my father had from when we lived in Quincy.
My brown eyes rested on Ruth, the woman who raised me. If I’d been theirs, I would have had blue eyes. I hated how often that basic fact of biology reminded me that I was an outsider. With my average height, short brown hair and androgynous build, I was used to being overlooked. Ruth had kept her eye on me for most of my life. It wasn’t really fair to her that I didn’t think of the ranch as my home, but it wasn’t. It was a sanctuary, but it wasn’t mine. Suddenly, all I could think about was a place that could be.
“You should talk it over with Charlie,” Bo said.
I nodded, knowing he was right even though Bo and Ruth’s opinion was much more important to me.
Chapter Two
Madison
Hands deep in my coat pockets, I walked the fence line. If I were Charlie, I’d have brought tools in case I found some loose wire, but I wasn’t working anything but my mind. Steve’s call had opened the entire world to me, yet one property immediately spoke to me. I’d grown up listening to Charlie talk about the place he’d worked up in Quincy. For a while, he talked like he’d go back and make a go of it as owner instead of ranch hand, but over the years the dreams shifted to memories, and then he stopped
talking about them altogether.
During my business program at Chico State, I based every project on the property that had once been Hot Rocks Cattle Co. I ran numbers on how many head of cattle I’d need to sell to stay in the black and how long it would take to raise up the numbers, how much capital I’d need to wait out lean years, paying for feed and vaccinations before the cattle ever started earning their keep. I went as far as to find it listed, and month after month when I scrolled through the pictures online, I could hear it calling me. I’d considered telling Charlie about it, but I would have had to initiate the conversation, which has never been my strong suit. By the time I graduated, I was saddled with student loans, not the money to figure out whether my college degree could revitalize an old fallow ranch.
Working for Steve gave me more than the opportunity to pay down the loans and start a nest egg. He kept horses and cattle, but he invested in cabins to rent to guests who wanted a taste of ranch life. Over the years, he found a steadier income from the paying guests and invested in activities that attracted more customers—campfires and cattle runs, trail rides and roping lessons, anything to generate a little more cash.
Bo and Ruth ran a more traditional place, one very much like Hot Rocks, and though they were well-established, I watched them run their numbers in the months leading up to spring sales, always worried about whether they would make it through the winter. With a new door open in front of me, I spun the possibility of turning an old cattle ranch into something like the guest ranch I’d managed for Steve. It wasn’t listed anymore, but after sitting on the market for so many years, I crossed my fingers that they had simply taken it off, putting me in a good position to pitch an offer below their asking price.
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