by Melissa Tagg
“I can’t picture it. Not in a million years.” Kate sat with both elbows propped atop the table, her husband’s arm draped casually around her. “You’re telling me my mother, the woman who for years insisted she couldn’t carry a tune, once got up in front of her entire high school and serenaded my dad?”
Sara tucked a flyaway strand of hair into the same purple silk scarf she’d worn this morning gypsy-style over her head. “Oh, she wasn’t lying about not being able to carry a tune. Flora used to mouth the National Anthem at basketball games because she was convinced actually attempting to sing the thing out loud was an affront to her country.”
Raegan pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her bare legs. Too chilly, really, for the cotton shorts and peasant blouse she wore. Goosebumps trailed her skin, but she didn’t care. Tonight, with its sliver of a moon, felt perfect. Her hungry heart couldn’t get enough of Sara’s recollections about Mom. She could stay out here all night.
Unlike Bear—who’d gone inside a good hour ago, carrying a sleeping Erin with Jamie straggling behind.
“But yes, your mom did serenade your dad,” Sara went on. “I’m surprised none of you have heard the story before now. I thought it’d go down in Maple Valley High lore.”
What was really surprising was the fact that none of them had ever heard Mom or Dad even mention Sara. Had there been some falling out? Maybe Raegan would ask Dad when he came home from Chicago on Saturday.
“So you’re moving back to Maple Valley for good?” Beckett asked now.
Sara nodded. “Yep. Denver’s been good to me for thirty years now, but the moment my father told me he might sell the ranch, I had this twinge. I knew it was time.”
J.J.’s Stables—Raegan rode her bike past the sign for the sprawling ranch all the time. J.J., who had to be well into his eighties if not closing in on ninety, always drove an old horse-pulled carriage in Maple Valley parades, offered horseback rides during town events, sleigh rides in the winter. She’d never realized he had a daughter. A daughter who, at age fifty-nine, had decided to leave Colorado, return to her hometown, and embark on a brand-new life. As Sara had explained earlier, she’d decided to bring her counseling career with her and meld her two loves by reviving her family’s rural property and offering animal therapy, horse camps, and other programs.
“Of course, now that I’m here and realizing how much work I have to do, I’m starting to question that twinge,” Sara said with a light laugh. “The house and stables are fine, but the cabins are practically falling down. They haven’t been used in decades.”
Raegan’s attention perked up. “Wait, do you need help? Do you need to hire somebody?”
Beckett gave Raegan a crooked smirk. “Do you really need a fourth job, Rae?”
“Not for me. For Bear.”
“Hey, I already said he could have a job at the restaurant.” Seth leaned forward to look toward Raegan.
“Yeah, but how many hours can you realistically give him?” Ava, Seth’s wife, piped in. “Without taking hours away from your other employees, I mean.”
“And besides, Bear’s an outdoor guy,” Raegan added. “He’d probably way rather work on restoring a few cabins than wait tables.” She glanced to Sara. “I mean, if you’re looking for someone.” Was she being too forward with a woman she’d just met today?
But Sara gave an appreciative nod. “There’s certainly more to do than I can handle on my own. Originally, I’d hoped to run a day camp later this summer, but when I realized how much work needs to be done, I sort of gave up on the idea, figured I’d have to wait until next summer. But if I had the right kind of help, maybe it could happen.”
“Bear is definitely the right kind of help.” Raegan straightened. “He’s the hardest worker I know.”
Beckett harrumphed. “Sort of feel like I should resent that.”
Kate lifted her nearly empty glass of iced tea, ice cubes clinking. “Me too. Writing books is super hard.” She flashed Raegan a knowing, playful look over the top of her glass. “But then, this is Bear she’s talking about. None of us could hope to compete.”
Raegan resisted the urge to narrow her eyes. Was this how it was going to be for the next two weeks, or three, or however many Bear stuck around? She really should have been better about concealing her hopeless infatuation with Bear years ago. She might have talked herself into getting over it, but clearly her siblings weren’t about to let it go.
Not that she minded the teasing—not really.
What bothered her was that constant, niggling sense that her siblings only saw her as the little sister with the silly crush and the part-time jobs usually held by high schoolers. The little sister who couldn’t quite grow up.
Maybe if they knew, if they understood . . .
Why she stayed. Why she couldn’t go. What had happened that time she tried.
She stood too abruptly. “I’m going to go find Bear. That is, if you’d really be interested in talking with him.”
Sara glanced around the table, as if picking up on more than the siblings’ jokey exchange. “Of course.”
Raegan escaped into the house and traipsed through the first floor, listening for footsteps overhead. Was Bear still tucking in the kids?
But the deep, drifting voice she heard didn’t come from the second floor. She stopped on the top step of the carpeted staircase that led down to the basement den.
“Rosa, I’m serious, this isn’t working. Jamie doesn’t want to be here. Erin’s having nightmares.”
Bear—apparently on the phone with his sister-in-law. She crept halfway down the stairs. Bear had seemed distracted all evening. But between mulling over her meeting with the mayor and trying to figure out where she’d seen Sara before, she’d had a crowded mind of her own.
But the frustration in Bear’s voice tugged at her now. “You’re not listening, Rosa. I don’t think—”
He cut off, apparently interrupted, the sound of his pacing reaching up to her.
Raegan chewed on her bottom lip. She probably shouldn’t stand here eavesdropping. She started to turn, but her foot caught on an abandoned shoe she hadn’t noticed on the step. She hobbled, grabbed for the stairway railing.
Too late. She thumped to the carpet, arms flailing, and half skidded, half rolled down the remaining stairs, landing in a heap on the floor, barely managing to hold in a groan.
Until she looked up. Saw Bear staring down at her, phone still at his ear. “Going to have to call you back, Rosa. Someone just dropped in.”
The groan escaped.
Bear crouched down in front of her. “Well, hey there.”
Were his eyes actually twinkling or had she hit her head too hard on the stairway wall? She shifted, wincing when she straightened her right leg. “Are you going to help me up or what?”
“Or what.” His gaze roved over her limbs, stopping at the rug burn on one bare knee. “Are you hurt?”
Try mortified. “I’m fine.”
“You landed on your ankle kind of weird.”
“I’m really okay.”
He ignored her, warm fingers brushing over her skin as he studied her ankle. “You might’ve sprained it.”
She pressed both hands to the carpeted stair behind her and started to stand, but the second she rose, the stab of pain in her ankle told her Bear might be right. Great, she was humiliated and injured.
“See? You should listen to the former paramedic. I might know what I’m talking about.”
She balanced her weight on her left foot, one hand clamped onto the railing. Shoot, her ankle really did throb. “That’s not very gentlemanly. Laughing at a girl when she’s hurt.”
“So you admit you’re hurt? And I’m not laughing.”
“You are. You’re just not showing it.”
“Well, I’m about to make up for it by being a perfect gentleman now.”
“What do you mean by—”
Before she could finish the question, he’d swept her off the
floor with one arm under her legs and the other around her back. “Bear!”
“What? I’m not about to make you hop up the stairs on a sprained ankle. We need to get some ice.”
“You don’t even know if it’s . . . I could’ve . . . you . . .” She couldn’t finish a single spinning thought. Not pressed this close to the man. Not when he smelled like mint and spice and felt as rock solid as a cement wall.
Bear started up the steps, and at the jostling movement, she instinctively clasped her hands around his neck. Mistake. Because it made him smile. Didn’t even matter that it was a smug smile. The effect was the same.
She looked away, training her attention anywhere—everywhere—but his face. The framed family photos on the wall. That stupid shoe she’d tripped over. The front door leading in from the porch up at the top of the stairs.
“This is so completely unnecessary.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I think you might just be showing off.”
His chest rumbled with his laughter. “Yes, Raegan. I’m carrying you up the stairs solely because I want you to see how strong I am. Next, I will fell a tree and then lift it over my head.” He stopped at the top of the steps. “Why were you coming down here, anyway?”
She made the blunder of looking at him again—right into those marble eyes with the dark lashes and the crinkles at the corners.
And in an instant, the quickening of her pulse eradicated every lie she’d ever told herself about being over Bear McKinley. She wasn’t over him. Probably never had been. She’d simply grown adept at ignoring her stubborn heart.
“I found you a job,” she finally managed to sputter.
“I already found myself a job. At Seth’s.”
“This is a better one. Working for Sara, fixing up some cabins. Right up your alley.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have to wear an apron. That’s a plus.” He stopped short of the landing. “I don’t know, though. With the kids, how can I think of taking a job—any job? Jamie wouldn’t even say goodnight to me when I put them to bed. I’m just waiting for Erin to wake up with another bad dream. Seriously, there’s a piece of me that wonders if I should be taking them back to Atlanta.”
Dread barged in. He’d just returned. He couldn’t leave again.
Get ahold of yourself, Walker. He didn’t come back for you.
“Bear—”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to stop dumping my problems on you.”
The man had no idea—did he?—how much she cared about him. If he did, he’d know she’d never resent having his problems dumped on her. She welcomed it, in fact. Probably too eagerly.
“Let’s talk about something else.” Bear climbed the last step. “Tell me about your morning with the mayor. What did he think of your mural idea?”
She’d spilled the idea to Bear over breakfast this morning while he’d wolfed down two bowls of cereal before she’d even finished her first cup of coffee. He’d seemed entirely at home in Dad’s kitchen—barefoot, clad in track pants and a plain tee. He’d been clear-eyed and the closest to peaceful she’d seen him since his arrival in town.
Footsteps thumped on the front porch now, keeping her from answering Bear’s question, and the front door swung open. “Honey, I’m home!”
“Dad?” Raegan’s attention jerked away from Bear.
Dad stopped on the welcome mat, garment bag slung over one arm, boisterous greeting fading as he looked from Raegan to Bear and back to Raegan again. “Huh. Am I intruding on something?”
Raegan squirmed in Bear’s arms until he set her down. “I fell—”
“I think her ankle—” Bear began at the same time.
“Dad’s home?” Kate’s squeal came from the living room. “I thought you weren’t returning ’til Saturday.”
“Had to come back early,” Dad explained, eyes still on Raegan and Bear. “There’s a last-day-of-school field trip at the depot tomorrow and Gary’s sick, so I’m covering.”
The sound of patio doors sliding, more footsteps, drifted in as they all turned to the activity now filling the first floor.
Until Dad’s sharp inhale sliced into the clatter. “Sara?”
Sara stood at the edge of the living room, eyes fastened on Dad. “Case. It’s so nice to—”
Dad’s bag thumped on the floor. “You shouldn’t be here.”
6
According to Raegan, last night Sara Jaminski had said the old cabins on her family’s ranch property needed a little TLC. But looking at them now, Bear had to think burning them down and starting from scratch might be the more expedient option.
He resisted the urge to pinch his nose, opting instead to hold his breath as he stepped into the fourth and final cabin.
He’d come out to the Jaminski ranch this morning mainly at Raegan’s urging. He had a feeling at this point she was less concerned with him landing a job with Sara and more hopeful he’d play detective and figure out why in the world her father had all but ordered the woman from his house last night.
Sara had taken the hint, leaving not five minutes after Case arrived.
“This one’s not quite as bad as the others,” Sara said as she followed him inside the cabin now. “No dead mice.”
Bear allowed himself a full inhale through his nose. What do you know? She’s right. No stench. No holes in the windows or busted ceiling beams.
But like the other three cabins he’d looked at in the past few minutes, this space was cluttered with trash—old mattresses piled along one wall, boxes strewn about the floor, blankets, dishes, metal cots rusted and broken. Sunlight streamed through dirty glass. It could take a week just to clear the cabins of junk. And then they’d need cleaning, painting, window and roof repairs . . .
“So what do you think?” Sara toed a ripped pillow, its feathers scattered about their feet. “Could we have the cabins ready by mid-July?”
Bear rubbed the back of his neck, the stuffy heat of the cabin causing him to sweat. Mid-July. A month and a half. Could he even commit to being in Iowa that long?
Where else do I have to go?
Besides, dirty as this work might be, it was preferable to bussing tables at The Red Door. There was something gratifying, even soothing, about manual labor. Much as he sometimes missed his short-lived paramedic career, working with his hands, putting his muscle to work had never failed him. His first job working roadside construction had allowed him to escape his parents’ dysfunctional home and move out on his own at age seventeen. It’d helped him pay his way through EMT training and then the paramedic program at a community college in Atlanta.
Then years later, after Atlanta, after incarceration, desperate to escape all over again, his willingness to sweat had served him well once more. Thanks to that prison chaplain’s Iowa connections, he’d had the opportunity to work his way up a building construction crew.
Bear gave the run-down cabin a second once-over. “I think I could make middle of July happen.”
“Really?”
“Have to be honest, though. I can’t work long hours right away. I’ve got my niece and nephew to look after. But after they go back to Atlanta . . .”
He couldn’t even finish the thought. Already the thought of returning Jamie and Erin to Atlanta grated on him. Those kids were laying claim to his heart—and fast.
And yet, the same frustration filled him now that had prompted him to call Rosa last night. Jamie was angry and hurting, and Bear didn’t know how to reach him. He’d tried all day yesterday—tried talking to him, tried coaxing him into shooting hoops or playing catch. No luck. And what Jamie had said at the restaurant that morning—about his mom not wanting him—Bear couldn’t stop replaying it.
Because he could’ve said those same words himself at that age. About his own mom, his dad, eventually his stepdad.
“Tell you what,” Sara said now, yanking his attention to the present. “I’d like to host a one-week horse camp in late summer if the cabins are ready in
time. Sort of a test run before going all out next year. I’ll pay you the same hourly wage I’m paying my full-time stable hand to get them in shape by July 15.” Sara started for the door. “You get them turned around by July 1, I’ll tack on a three-thousand-dollar bonus.”
Bear stopped in the cabin doorway. “Seriously?”
“I really want the work done.” Sara turned, smiling. “And I really don’t want to be the one to do it. Not when I’m trying to set up my counseling office at the same time.”
Three thousand dollars . . . above his regular wages. After the way he’d torn through his savings in Brazil, the amount sounded like a fortune. It’d more than pay for his EMT training and give him a nice head start on being able to support himself when he returned to Brazil.
If he returned to Brazil. He’d heard from John just this morning, a quick email assuring Bear that John hadn’t forgotten about him, that he still planned to recommend him for the community center position.
Bear followed Sara outside, thankful for the fresh air curling around him. The vibrant landscape spreading before them was a swell of green and gold—prairie grass and wildflowers swaying under the breath of the breeze, the land beneath stretching in an endless rise and fall of hilly plains.
No wonder Sara had said she missed this place. Between the rolling fields and the unending blue sky, she owned a piece of rustic paradise. If he were Sara, he would’ve come home to this place years ago.
Then again, maybe she’d had reasons for staying away. Heaven knew, Bear could understand that. Maybe Case Walker’s opposite-of-welcoming reaction upon seeing her had something to do with it.
At least there’d been one good thing about Case and Sara’s uncomfortable reunion last night. It’d taken Case’s attention off Bear, the fact that he’d been traipsing around the man’s house carrying his daughter.
And possibly having too good a time doing so.
He didn’t know what to do about that. Only knew Raegan better be icing that ankle again this morning, especially if she planned to amble around on it at that carnival tonight.