by Terri Reed
“Whatever you’re having is fine.”
She stuck a tea bag of his mother’s favorite chamomile in each cup. They waited for the water to boil.
“Faith, tell me about your family.”
Tilting her head to one side, she considered him for a moment. “What would you like to know?”
He wanted to know about her marriage. Did she still love her ex-husband? But he couldn’t put voice to the question. Instead, he shrugged as she handed him a mug. “Start with your parents.”
Taking a seat, she placed her steaming mug on the table and ran her finger over the rim. “My parents were—eccentric. Father loved to take pictures of everything he saw, and Mother loved to write about everything she saw. They made a good team. My grandparents thought their lifestyle was—well—that it was scandalous that they chose to spend their lives running around the world, sharing their experiences through pictures and articles. Grandfather wanted Father to take over for him. But Father would always say he had no head for business.”
“Did they publish their work?”
“Oh, yes. In several of Grandfather’s travel magazines. But they did it mostly for their own enjoyment.”
“Your grandfather was a publisher?” She’d said a great deal of money, he just hadn’t realized the scale she was talking about.
“Among other things. He always said media had the pulse of the nation. He’d started out with just a newspaper when he was a young man. He slowly worked his way to running half the newspapers, radio stations and television stations across the country.”
“He was very powerful.” And with that power came pressure. The pressure she was running from. He was beginning to get a clearer picture.
Faith nodded. “For a time.”
“What happened?”
“Grandmother said that he slowly lost interest. His health began to slip and he didn’t have Father’s interest so he began selling his assets.” She scoffed. “He was old school and didn’t believe women could run multimillion-dollar corporations.”
“So where did you fit in?”
She gave a small laugh. “When I was very small I went with my parents everywhere. I don’t remember it too much, but I have impressions of exotic places that surface occasionally. About the time I turned eight, my grandparents demanded my parents bring me home for some schooling. My parents, bless their souls, believed I would get a better education staying with them, but since my grandparents funded most of their trips, they had to do as they were told. So I was sent off to private school.”
“That must have been hard on you.”
“I suppose. But Mother and Father came home often to visit. They would bring all sorts of odd souvenirs from the places they went. As I grew older, I went through a period of resenting them, but I grew out of that. I’m just glad they were able to live their lives the way they wanted.”
The sadness in her voice made Luke’s hand tighten around his cup. “It wasn’t fair of your family to separate you from your parents.”
Faith glanced at him then quickly looked away. “I suppose not.”
“You said your parents died?”
She nodded. “A car accident. On my eleventh birthday, of all time. They—” Faith looked up at him with sad eyes. “They were on their way home to see me.”
Setting his mug down, he reached over and covered her white knuckles with his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” She stared down at their clasped hands. In a low whisper Luke heard her say, “I never got to say goodbye.”
Understanding her pain, Luke’s heart ached for her. “When I heard my father was dying, I was afraid I wouldn’t arrive home in time.”
She lifted her head. “But you did.”
“Yes, but there still wasn’t enough time to tell him everything I wanted to say.”
She nodded. “That’s how I felt when my grandfather died.” Tears rapidly filled her eyes. “I knew his death was coming but—I just wasn’t ready.” A tear spilled from her lashes and rolled down her cheek. “He’d had a heart attack five years earlier, after my grandmother passed on, that caused so much damage. He wouldn’t have surgery and slowly he got worse until finally his heart stopped.”
Luke stifled the urge to take her into his arms. He knew once he did he might never let go. “You were with him.”
A small, sad smile touched her lips. “Yes. I was the only one he couldn’t scare off. Grandfather was a prickly man on the outside but—I loved him a great deal.”
“Tell me about him.”
Faith moved restlessly, tucking and untucking her legs beneath her.
“Grandfather was—traditional.”
“Like in women are women and men are men?”
“Exactly.”
They shared a smile. “Did your grandfather believe in God?”
Her mouth twisted. “Oh, yes. He was definitely a God-fearing Christian.”
“And he taught you to fear God,” Luke stated gently.
“Yes, he did. He made sure that terror of God was deeply instilled.” She quickly added, “But I knew Grandfather loved me. He just had a hard time showing his affection.”
Luke ached for the little girl she’d been. Growing up without her parents, having her controlling grandfather warp her view of God. Faith deserved to be cherished and loved. “Fear of the Lord isn’t about terror. It’s about awe and respect. How can we love and obey a God we’re terrified of?”
Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “But isn’t that why people obey God? Because they are afraid He’ll strike them down if they don’t?”
“God strikes down those who oppose Him, but not before giving them a chance to come to Him. And He always gives second chances. He gives humans free will to choose. Follow Him and receive all the blessings He freely gives or turn away from Him to live without the blessings.”
She seemed to absorb his words, he wasn’t sure she believed him. “Thank you.”
He frowned. “For what?”
“For understanding. For giving me a job and a place to stay.”
Her hazel eyes were direct, without guile. He liked that about her. “You’re welcome.”
For a moment silence stretched between them as their gazes remained focused on each other. Not awkward, but active. Two people finding something of interest in the other. Luke liked looking at her, seeing the beauty within her made his heart beat harder.
She slightly raised one eyebrow, bringing an end to the intimacy of the moment. “What made you join the military?”
He gave a mirthless laugh. “I didn’t want to turn into my father.”
A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Why?”
Pride. He shrugged. “At eighteen, I guess I wanted a different, more adventurous life than my parents.”
“And did you find that life?”
With a nod, he answered, “Yes. I started—”
Brandy raced into the kitchen barking wildly, the hair at her nape raised. She skidded to a stop at the back door, her nails scraping on the tile. Her barks deep and guttural, frantic.
Faith scrambled out of the chair. “There was someone at the window.”
SEVEN
Heart pounding, Luke moved swiftly to the door and turned off the kitchen light, then turned on the outside porch light.
“Don’t go out there,” Faith pleaded.
His gaze searched the dark for the trespasser.
After a few moments, Brandy’s barks tapered off and she paced, the fur on the back of her neck still raised.
Faith, her complexion pasty white, stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her body shaking. He went to her and took her hands. “Do you remember what the man looked like?”
“I don’t know. I just saw a flash of movement.”
“Could it have been Reva?”
Her brow furrowed. “I suppose. But why would she—?”
“She was angry when she left.”
Faith looked unconvinced. “Should yo
u call the police?”
“Luke?” Dottie called from the top of the stairs.
“Here, Mom.” Luke moved into the entryway.
His mom stood on the landing, her robe hastily thrown on. “What’s got Brandy in such a twitter?”
“Someone was outside,” Luke replied.
“One of the hands? Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know, Mom.”
Faith touched his arm. “You go make your call. Dottie and I will be upstairs.”
He could see fear lurking in her hazel gaze. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She nodded and ascended the stairs and led Dottie back to her room.
Luke called the sheriff’s station. Thirty minutes later, Sheriff Bane and a young deputy arrived. After shaking hands with the sheriff and being introduced to Deputy Art Unger, Luke said, “Faith thought she saw someone at the kitchen window.”
He told him about his conversation with Reva.
“Nothing like a woman scorned. Let’s take a look.” The sheriff grabbed a long, black-handled flashlight from his car and walked around the back of the house. The bright beam revealed footprints in the snow beneath the window. Sheriff Bane shifted his weight on to one leg and hovered his other foot over a clear print. “I’d say a size eleven or twelve boot. Too big for Reva. These are pretty deep, so I’d say a heavy man.” He peered through the window. “Tall, too, to be able to see through this window.”
The young deputy scribbled notes on a small pad.
Sheriff Bane swung the beam along the ground. “Prints disappear on the gravel drive. Who else is on the property?”
“My foreman and the hands live in the four apartments above the stables.”
“Could it have been one of them?” the sheriff asked.
Shaking his head, Luke answered, “I don’t think so. Brandy wouldn’t have flipped out the way she did. Except—”
“Except?”
“I have two new hands, but Brandy knows them.”
“Let’s go see if they noticed anything or anyone lurking around,” Sheriff Bane said. “Art, take a post outside.”
Luke led the sheriff to the second-floor apartments in the bigger of the two barns. A light shone under the first door. At their knock, the door opened and Leo stood there in stocking feet. His frame was lean and lanky in jeans and a plaid shirt hanging open over a white T-shirt. His graying hair stuck up in tufts and his blue eyes regarded them sharply. “Hey, boss. What’s up?”
“Can we come in?” Luke asked.
Leo stepped back and held the door wide. Though sparse on furniture—a refrigerator, stove, a small dining table and lone chair, a recliner and TV—the tiny space was cluttered with trophies, saddles, plaques on the walls and stacks of magazines and newspapers.
Luke had been nearly twelve when his dad had hired Leo. He could still remember being in awe of the cowboy who’d come to live on the ranch. Leo had been a rodeo star in his youth and he had stories that had kept a boy entertained for days on end.
“Mind telling me what this visit is about?” Leo asked.
Luke explained the situation.
“I ain’t seen anyone around. I know the boys went to town tonight. Haven’t heard them return.” He shrugged. “That’s not to say they haven’t. I don’t hear so well these days.”
Luke hadn’t thought about how Leo’s health might be. Leo and his father hadn’t been that far apart in age. Now, Luke felt a twinge of concern for his foreman. Maybe soon it would be time to talk to him about retiring.
The sheriff asked Leo questions about the other hands.
“Charles has been on the ranch for about three years now, ever since his wife left him. The two new guys came highly recommended by the Krofters, a couple of ranches over.”
The sheriff took their names and then asked Leo to let Luke know if he saw anything out of the ordinary.
“Will do, Sheriff.” Leo clapped Luke on the back. “Don’t worry, boss. Nothing’s gonna happen that I don’t know about.”
As they turned to leave, the sheriff paused. “What size boot do you wear?”
Luke opened his mouth to protest, but froze when Leo replied.
“An eleven.”
No way would Luke believe Leo had been spying on them, and he said as much to the sheriff once the door closed.
“We can’t rule out anyone,” the sheriff replied as he moved down the hall to knock on the doors of the other three small apartments.
“Seems your hands are still out for the night. Do they do this often?”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t keep tabs on their personal time. I’ll talk to them tomorrow.”
“Good enough.” The sheriff and his deputy walked to their car. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open around town. And I’ll have a talk with Reva.” The sheriff opened the car door.
Relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with Reva himself, Luke replied, “That’d be great. Thanks.”
He watched the car disappear down the drive before heading back inside.
“Did they find anyone?”
He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Faith stood on the top landing. Her blond hair hung loosely over one of his mother’s old terry robes tied securely at the waist.
He shook his head. “No. Whoever was out there is gone.”
She stared at him a moment before inclining her head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” he said and watched her slip into her room. Then he grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and sat on the couch.
Brandy rose from her bed and nudged him with her nose before flopping down on the floor beside him. Within moments Brandy’s soft snore was the only sound in the house.
Quiet enough to let Luke’s mind wander to the beautiful blonde upstairs.
Reva May Scott hated country music. It was too depressing and too close to her life. But in a small town like Sisters, there wasn’t any escaping the soulful ballads and honky-tonk tunes played on the jukebox in the corner of the Rib Eye Bar and Grill.
She sat on a stool at the long wooden counter in the bar area of the restaurant, feeling conspicuous as a single woman among so many couples out for a good time on a Friday night. She lifted her martini glass and took a sip. The sweet and sour concoction hit her taste buds with a snap. She didn’t think the thing tasted that much like a Granny Smith apple, but the green color was sure pretty.
Especially on a dismal night like tonight.
It wasn’t the weather bringing her down. In fact, she rather liked the dry air, snow-covered ground and biting temperature of winter in central Oregon. Much better than the drizzling rain on the west side of the state.
No, tonight was dismal for a different reason.
All she’d ever wanted was to be a part of a family. To belong to someone who would love, honor and cherish her. Just like all the marriage vows of all the people whose weddings she’d gone to over the years.
Silly words. Silly sentiment. Still, she wanted it.
She took another drink, letting the tangy liquid slide down her throat and the vodka take the edge off her hurt at Luke’s rejection.
She’d had her heart set on Luke for so long she couldn’t remember when she didn’t love him. Oh, he’d never professed any sort of romantic feelings for her, but she’d kept believing that in time he’d come around, just like his father had said. She’d hoped if she was close enough, did enough, then one day Luke would vow to love, honor and cherish her and she’d finally belong.
But not now. Not with Faith in the picture.
Anger burned in her belly, fueled by the alcohol.
That private detective should have hauled Faith off after Reva told him she was on the ranch and not on her way to Alaska.
But no. The creep had just smiled and left town.
Something had to be done. It just wasn’t fair that this strange woman could come in and take Reva’s place in Luke’s life.
“Hey, beautifu
l, what are you doing sitting here all by your lonesome?”
Tensing at the unexpected intrusion, Reva slanted a glance toward the man who’d sidled up to the bar beside her. Recognizing him as one of the hands on the Campbell ranch, she relaxed. Not that she remembered the guy’s name. He was new and not Luke. “Hey, yourself. Where are your buddies?”
“Oh, they’ll be along. We each had stuff to do.” He inclined his head toward her near-empty glass. “Can I buy you another?”
She wasn’t stupid. A free drink was a free drink. “Why not?”
“Another for the lady and I’ll take a beer,” the man said as he sat on a stool.
“Thanks…uh. I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.”
His dark eyes danced with amusement. “That’s okay. I remember yours. Reva.”
She shrugged. His name wasn’t important. He wasn’t important. He wasn’t Luke.
She picked up the fresh drink the bartender had placed in front of her.
“So what are we celebrating?”
Reva shook her head. “We’re not.”
“I didn’t see you at the ranch today.”
She snorted. “And you won’t. Not while she’s there.”
He leaned closer. “You don’t like the new lady?”
“No.”
“You want her to disappear?”
Like a cloud of smoke. Poof. Gone. Reva giggled, the drink making her a bit woozy. “That’d be nice.”
His voice dipped low. “I can help you with that.”
“You can?” She leaned closer. “Tell me how.”
Sunday morning roared in with a heavy dumping of new snow and a drop in temperature. After a quick breakfast of toast and coffee, Faith dressed for church and met the Campbells in the living room. Luke had on a tie with his cotton oxford shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. He looked like the perfect gentleman rancher.
He helped his mother into her long down parka over her wool dress. Her black sensible shoes and thick tights made Faith worry that she’d dressed inappropriately. Her own tennis shoes, khaki pants and striped turtleneck were as dressy as she had.
“Here you go,” Luke said, now holding out the new parka he’d bought for her in town.