There were spreadsheets. Lots of spreadsheets. Because he couldn’t help himself. Anything worth doing was absolutely worth doing right.
“It’s not going to mess with your campaign. She’s going to run her business, and you’ll take care of your business. While I increase some of my profits.”
“So how long do you think she’ll stay here?” Eli asked, hoping the answer was “not long.” She disturbed his sense of order. All of this did, but the fact that Sadie Miller was involved only made it more disturbing. And he did not need disturbing. Not right now. Not ever, really.
“She signed for five years.”
“Five years?” he and Kate spoke together again.
“Will you stop repeating my answers back to me in question form? Yes, five years. It’s going to take time to get a business going. There’s some updating that needs to be done on the house. She’s agreed to pay for it, and orchestrate it all.”
“You’re crazy. You’re going to let someone else, a stranger, live on our property for five years without even...meeting her first?” Eli asked.
“It’s over. It’s signed. I’m not discussing it any further,” Connor said.
Eli leaned back against the counter and took a long drink of his beer.
Kate shrugged. “It might be nice to have a woman around again.”
“She’s not going to be around,” Eli said. “She’s running a bed-and-breakfast, apparently. There’s a difference between that and her being around. This is a big property.”
“I was just saying. And maybe I’ll go visit her,” Kate mused.
“Eli’s right, Katie,” Connor said. “Everything is going to be kept separate.”
“That’s fine.” Kate picked at the top of her pizza. “But I do think it would be nice to bring her something. A housewarming something. Foodstuffs. Small-town hospitality in action and all.”
“Feel free to deliver foodstuffs,” Connor told her. “I don’t give a sh—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kate said. “You don’t. About anything. I get it. You’re a grumpy codger and you aren’t going to be sociable. Ever. Again. I won’t make you.”
“Good,” he said.
Kate turned to Eli, her brown eyes wide.
Eli put his hands up. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m not joining your small-town welcoming committee.”
“Fine. I’ll be the representative for this family. And try to prove we weren’t—” she took a bite of her pizza and spoke around a mouthful of cheese “—raised by fucking wolves.”
“Well, we’ll leave that up to you,” Eli said. “I have faith in you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m going to head home,” Eli said. “I’ll leave the pizza.”
That earned him a thanks from Kate and a grunt—no surprise—from Connor.
“I’ve got the afternoon off tomorrow,” Eli added, “so that means I’ll be by to help out. Do you have anything big going?”
“Not a lot. We have to tag the calves this weekend, though. Are you free?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be around for that.”
He was in law enforcement by choice, but he was a rancher by blood. He, Connor and Kate all did some local rodeo events now and then, too, though Kate was by far the most successful and was looking to turn pro when she got the chance.
Of course, the fact that he was either working for the county or working on the ranch was a big part of why he had no social life. But he didn’t really miss it. Unless he was horny. Then he kind of missed it.
“Great,” Connor said. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“See ya.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen, through the entryway and onto the porch. He stood for a minute and looked out at the property, and at the light in the distance. The light that was coming from the Catalog House.
Sadie Miller was in there. On a five-year lease. Damn it all, it didn’t get much more disrupting to his sense of order than that. Of course, the past couple of years had been one big, giant disruption for their family.
They all felt the loss of Jessie. And they all felt the hole that her death had carved into Connor. He wasn’t the same. He never would be.
But then, that was the way this place was. Or at least, that seemed to be the way love was for their family. You got it, you lost it.
It had started with the first generation of Garretts on this land. His great-great-grandfather had ordered that house and had it built. His great-great-grandmother had lived in it for only two years before getting pneumonia and dying.
Then there were his great-grandparents. His great-grandmother had died in childbirth, leaving her husband a shell of a man, barely capable of keeping the land going, and not entirely managing to keep track of his children. His grandfather had run off with a woman from town, leaving his grandmother to raise her kids alone. And then there were his parents.
Their mother had gone when Kate was a toddler. Off to God knew where. Somewhere warmer and sunnier. Somewhere with men in suits instead of spurs.
A place without needy kids and the smell of cows.
But it had left her husband to sink into a mire of alcoholism and despair.
It had left Connor to grow up at fifteen. And for Eli to follow right along with him.
And all that pain had started in the house that now sheltered Sadie Miller. It seemed fitting in some ways. Since she was a pain in his butt.
He walked down the steps to the driveway, then headed down the path that took him the back way to his house.
Sadie Miller wouldn’t be a problem, because he wouldn’t let her become one.
He was the law around here, after all.
CHAPTER THREE
SADIE WOULD VENTURE down into town today at some point. Grab some supplies. After she’d taken inventory, of course. She knew there were some tools in the shed, per the typed-up—and very brief—note Connor had left on the kitchen counter.
But until she had some clue about what sort of work she might need to do, the tools were fairly useless. She had some basic information on the minor flaws in the house, but there were other things she wanted to tackle.
Most of the place had the original wood paneling. Wainscoting that went halfway up the walls, which were painted a deep cream. The wooden detail was echoed on the ceiling, crossbeams forming a checkerboard over the plaster ceiling.
It looked like the crown molding in a few of the rooms had been replaced at some point, and it didn’t match. Which meant she was going to need to take it down, and then mount some new stuff.
That wasn’t a part of her original plan, but she had a little cushion for some surprises. And money set aside for some major projects, like the addition of a back deck. And since structural issues were Connor’s problem, she didn’t anticipate running into anything that would absolutely kill her budget.
Some people might call her a flake, but she was a well-educated flake with a basic understanding of money management.
She walked into the kitchen, and to the walk-in pantry that was larger than some bedrooms she’d had in her years of apartments. The solid wood shelves had a fine layer of dust over them. A mop and broom standing in the corner were the only residents, except for a few daddy longlegs hanging on the ceiling.
She made a mental note to take care of those guys later and walked back out into the kitchen, opening up cabinets that were mainly empty. There was one cabinet filled with mismatched teacups, and she counted that as a good find.
A quirky touch to add to the place. As inspiration went, it was a good place to start.
She wandered back through the dining room, which was nearly dominated by a large wooden table that was scarred from years of use. Refinishing that would go on her list of to-dos, but not for a while. She’d throw a tablecloth on it for now.
Out in the hall, the old wooden floor squeaked under her feet. Weirdly, she liked the sound. Liked the reminder of the age of the house.
The boards on the stairs were the same,
her fingertips leaving a light trail on the banister as they cut through the thin film of dust. The house had obviously been cleaned when the previous tenant had left; it had just been a couple of years since anyone had been back inside.
She walked down the hall and pushed open the doors to each of the four bedrooms. They all had gorgeous four-poster beds. They would need all-new linens and drapes, but she’d been expecting that. The two bedrooms on the backside of the house faced the thick, undeveloped forest, and the other two provided views of a bright green field, dotted with cows.
All the rooms needed blinds to block the light so guests could sleep as late as they liked, and do whatever they wanted with no privacy concerns.
Two rooms had private bathrooms, while two others had to share one in the hall—not ideal, but given the age of the house, that it was as well-appointed as it was was sort of a miracle.
All it would take was a bit of scrubbing, polishing and the addition of matching molding. Also, some knickknacks, new furniture and a carload of linens.
The shopping would be the fun part. She would try to keep it local so that the finished product reflected Copper Ridge. She was really getting into this whole concept of community.
For now, she was going to go and hunt for those tools Connor said were in the shed. What she would do with them was up for debate, but she had a kind of driving need to do whatever she could.
Sadie tromped down the steps and into the yard, the bark-laden ground soft beneath her tennis shoes, dew from the weeds flinging up onto her pant legs and sending a chill through her.
It wasn’t warm yet this morning, but the wind was still, the trees around her seeming to close in tight, sheltering her and her new house from the outside world.
She whistled, the sound echoing off the canopy of trees, adding to the feeling of isolation. She liked it. And even more than that, her guests would like it.
Well, they’d better, anyway, since she was committed to five years here. Claustrophobia’s icy fingers wound their way around her neck when the thought hit. Five years. In one place. In Copper Ridge, no less, the keeper of her hang-ups and other issues.
You’re confronting your past. It’s what you’d tell a patient to do.
Her inner voice was right. But her inner voice could go to hell. She wasn’t in the mood to confront things. She was just...trying to feel a little less wrong. A little less restless.
A little less like she was a rolling tumbleweed. Or a running-at-full-tilt tumbleweed.
She’d given so much advice that she’d never once followed. Facing fears, facing the old things that held power over a person. Going back to a point of trauma and seeing that it held no magical properties.
Well, she was following it now.
She zipped up her hoodie, fortifying herself against the general dampness that clung to the air, and walked down the path that should lead her to the shed.
An engine roar disturbed her silence, and she turned to see a black truck barreling down the long, secluded drive that led to her house.
She stopped and watched, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver. She failed, but she figured it was too grand an entrance for someone who wanted to Freddy Krueger her, so she was probably good.
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and headed back to where the truck had parked. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
The feminine voice that greeted her wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Neither was the petite brunette who dropped down from the driver’s side, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of Carhartts. Her braid flipped down over her shoulder as her boots hit the ground, and she looked up and smiled.
Sadie vaguely remembered that there was a female Garrett, but she’d never known her. Unsurprising, really, since this girl looked wholesome and shiny, and all the things Sadie had never been.
“Kate,” she said, extending her hand. “Kate Garrett. The sister.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sadie said, shaking the other woman’s hand.
“I didn’t want to drop by last night because I thought it would be rude, but I thought I’d stop in today just to say hi. And to ask what all your plans are.”
There was something wide-eyed and sweet about Kate, something that stood in contrast to her firm handshake and confident manner. She was strength, and openness, and for a moment, Sadie envied that. The bravery it must take.
“Well, I have plans to turn the house into a B and B that will hopefully be ready for guests in about a month and a half.” She put her hands on her hips and let out a long breath. “Enough time to get things arranged, and to settle in, hopefully.”
“If you need any help, or anything, I’m happy to give it. I work at the Farm and Garden, and I know a lot about plants, animals, general repair stuff.”
It stunned her, yet again, how nice people had been to her—exception being Eli—since she’d shown up. She’d imagined...she didn’t know. She’d turned Copper Ridge into such a dark place in her mind that she’d been sure people would all but greet her with torches and pitchforks. And yet, no one had.
Facing your demons, and finding out there aren’t quite as many as you thought?
“That’s really nice, but I don’t want to take any of your time,” Sadie said.
“Really, I don’t have a whole lot happening right now. Just work. And it’s very male around here, so it’s nice to have a more feminine influence.”
It occurred to her then that it was time to stop resisting connections. Five years, remember?
“If I need something, I’ll take you up on that,” she said. “You’ll be better company than a random hired hand.”
Kate laughed. “I try. What are you after today?”
“Trim. Light fixtures. I might look at new hardware for the cabinets.”
Kate wrinkled her nose, then looked at the house, and at Sadie’s car. “If you have renovation stuff to buy, you aren’t fitting it in there. Ten pounds of potatoes, five-pound sack. But if you want, you can come in with me and use my truck to make deliveries back to the property. You just need to be able to pick me up at closing time.”
Sadie hadn’t had a firm plan for the day, but she couldn’t deny that the use of a truck had a very high chance of coming in handy.
Her immediate gut response was to say no. Because accepting help meant the possibility of needing to pay someone back. Sadie was fine giving help, and expecting nothing in return. But she’d always been afraid of leaving town owing a debt.
But you’re staying here. At least for a while.
“Thank you, Kate,” she said. “That’s so nice of you. I would really appreciate your help.”
* * *
“WELL, SHIT,” CONNOR SAID, looking around the field. “I think we missed a calf.”
Eli straightened and wiped the sweat off his forehead. It hadn’t seemed too hot earlier, but now the sun was high in the sky, beating down on them. The middle of the field provided no shade, and the work they’d been doing wasn’t easy.
“You think?” he asked, looking around the field and spotting a red angus, one of the few reds who had ever popped up in their herd, who he knew full well had been ready to birth a while back. “Oh, yeah. She calved already.”
“And I don’t see baby. Which means she’s got him hidden somewhere, or he’s dead.”
“Dammit.” Eli tugged his T-shirt up over his head and mopped the sweat off his chest before chucking the shirt on the ground and getting up onto his horse. “Let’s go find him.”
Eli spurred his horse on. “Got her number?” he asked, meaning the identification number on the mother cow’s ear.
“Yeah, I know it.”
“I’m going to guess he’s under the trees somewhere.” Eli gestured to the back of the field that led toward the houses. It was still heavily wooded, providing the herd with a place to escape the weather.
Connor followed him, the horses’ hoofbeats the only sound as they galloped across the field. Eli kept an eye out for a carca
ss in the grass, but the absence of crows and buzzards had him feeling optimistic.
Death was a part of ranch life, but it wasn’t one he enjoyed.
Sure, they raised cattle for beef, but they took care of them. They had value to his family that ran deep. It was hard to explain to someone outside of the ranching community, but those in it understood the connection without him having to voice it.
Hell, with a job this demanding, you had to love all the elements of it, or you’d never choose to do it. It was really why he chose to do it only part-time. Maybe that made him a fair-weather cowboy, but he was okay with that.
He still got his job done. Both his jobs, in fact.
He tugged his horse’s reins and slowed her down when they got to the edge of the trees and Connor dismounted.
“Oh, great,” he said, looking back. “We got mama’s attention. But then, I guess that means we’re close.”
But the last thing they wanted was to be on a twelve-hundred-pound mother cow’s radar while they tried to run down her three-day-old calf and give him a piercing.
Eli got off his own horse and followed Connor under the trees. “Okay, Con,” he said, “make this fast because I don’t want to deal with mom cow’s attitude, all right?”
Then he saw it, spindly and wobbly, under the trees. Black as night, obviously not inheriting his mother’s coloring.
“Okay...” Eli said. “Let’s do this thing.”
Connor crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Get in there, part-time cowboy. You’re on shift.” He handed Eli the applicator, which was already clean and ready.
Eli took it, then flipped Connor his middle finger before wading into the foliage.
He looked over his shoulder. The mother cow was jogging now, heading toward them, not happy to see them getting closer to her baby. And they couldn’t blame her. But he needed to get the baby’s tag on so they could match him up with his mother later. Easy enough to figure it out now, but harder later in a field of black calves.
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