Home Free

Mandy reached for the door handle, but her hand was shaking so hard she couldn’t grasp it. She wanted to get out and face Arch while tossing hay out of the truck like a pro. But fear had its cold claws sunk in deep.

With a wave of his rope, Arch cleared the steers easily from his path. He took their place at her truck window, looking down at her from his relaxed perch in the saddle. “Do you want me to feed them?”

His voice was a balm of gentle concern that almost brought out the tears fizzing hot beneath her eyes. She felt her cheeks heat, too, and knew her usually pale skin had gone scarlet. She couldn’t answer. But she nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Just sit tight.”

She watched him in the side mirror as he guided his horse alongside the vehicle and leaned over, grabbing a few flakes of the hay she’d stacked there. He threw them to his right and several of the steers trotted toward the pile. Quickly he grabbed more hay and tossed it out behind the truck, creating another feeding area. Soon the pasture was littered with piles of hay surrounded by happy cattle. Mandy buried her face in her hands. He made it look so simple.

“All fed,” Arch called and brought his horse around to stand by her window again. “Are you okay to drive?”

“Yeah, sure.” Her voice scraped over the words.

“I’ll open the gate. Why don’t you bring the truck outside the pasture and park it?”

Mandy nodded and turned on the engine in mindless obedience, glad he was in charge, because her brain was blank in the aftermath of panic.

Arch opened the gate and she bumped through it over the rough ground. She parked and watched Arch shut the gate in her rearview mirror. He rode so well. Slinging an easy leg over the horse’s back, he dismounted and led his horse toward her.

Dread tipped her stomach. He’d want an explanation. But what could she possibly say without sounding totally crazy?

She stared straight ahead, but he didn’t go away. She heard his footsteps crunching on the dry earth and then he was at her window, looking down at her with a mystified expression. “Mandy, are you all right? You’re so pale... Are you sick?”

She could only hold his gaze for a moment. There was too much mortifying worry in his eyes. “Not sick.” She ran her fingertips over the steering wheel in nervous zigzags, tracing the cord that wrapped the vinyl.

“Then?” he prompted.

She couldn’t spit out the humiliating truth. If she stared at the steering wheel hard enough, maybe it would keep her tears at bay.

Arch brought his hand to her arm, and she jumped at the touch. “Are you frightened?”

The truth, said out loud, was jarring. She yanked her arm away from his fingers. “No!” It was a shrill bleat of a lie, but she went with it. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night—too wound up after the wedding. When I got out of the truck to feed, I felt dizzy. That’s when you saw me fall back.”

His eyes were set deep beneath strong black brows. The skin around them creased with wear. Not smile lines. Hard-lived lines. When he searched her face, she knew he could see way too much. So she kept babbling. “I was just wondering if I should drive back out and feed them over the fence when you showed up. You saved me a lot of trouble and time.”

“But—”

“I’ve still got a lot of chores to do,” she interrupted. “I’m so glad you came along.”

“Mandy...” he tried again.

But she flashed him a plastic smile, desperate for space between them. “Boy, do I owe you! Yesterday you saved the cake, and today you salvaged my chore schedule.”

He was still intent on her, as if he could see right through her crazy. “What about the dizziness? Will you be okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll just drink some water,” she assured him. “And try to get more sleep.” Lying didn’t come naturally. A low ache was seeping through her skull. She put the truck in gear.

“Wait,” he said. “I came by to say thank you. For sticking up for me yesterday. For the cake, too.”

“Hey, it was no problem!” Since when did she talk like someone’s hearty uncle? “But really nice of you to come by and say so. You must be really busy. So I’ll let you get on with it. Thanks, Arch!” Mandy gave a vigorous wave, and he got the message and stepped back, that mystified look still on his face. She pressed the truck’s accelerator a little too hard and it jolted her forward, adding insult to awkwardness.

Mandy steered the pickup haphazardly away from the pasture. Adrenaline coursed as if she’d just barely escaped with her survival. It was embarrassing enough being afraid of everything. It would be worse if people found out. Especially Arch Hoffman. He’d spent ten years in jail and lived a life of crime before that. He’d probably never been frightened of anything in his life. Plus, he just looked so capable. Of anything.

Mandy parked by the barn and buried the heat of her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? When would she get over her fears? And why had she lied about them, again?

The answer was obvious. She was a coward. A coward with a bunch more livestock to feed. She’d have to run along the fence like a maniac, tossing hay over at different places as fast as she could. It was risky. The cattle might push each other against the barbed wire trying to get the hay.

Later today she’d call around and see if she could find temporary workers to help out on the ranch. For now, she’d just have to survive. She knew one thing for sure—there was no way she was going into a pasture with those scary, slobbery creatures again.

* * *

ARCH WATCHED MANDY’S truck swerve away in a cloud of dust. He’d thought they’d made a connection yesterday. That maybe they’d started some kind of friendship. He’d lain awake like a fool last night, reliving that moment when she’d brought him the cake. When she’d made him feel like he mattered.

As soon as he got done with his morning chores, he’d resolved to go find her, to thank her, to let her know what her kindness had meant. He’d ridden through the gate that separated their properties with high hopes. Of what he wasn’t sure. Maybe just more of what it felt like to be near her. Because she’d seen him as a real person, not just an ex-convict. Maybe because she was beautiful, and he wanted to see that beauty again.

But when he’d found her, none of that had been there. Except her beauty, of course. That wasn’t even dimmed by her pale skin, her worried eyes or the traces of dirt on her cheek. But the warmth, the sense that she cared, were all gone. Instead she’d almost run him over, trying to get away as fast as possible. Something had changed for her completely. But what?

It hit him like a blow to the sternum. She’d gone back to the wedding reception yesterday and talked with Nora and Wade about the bad he’d done. About what a heartless brother he’d been. That was what had changed. He couldn’t blame her for trying to avoid him. If he heard those stories, he’d hate that guy, too.

Anger rose, at himself, at his choices. Anger was his lifelong companion, the cartoon devil on his shoulder. In prison, there’d been a chaplain, Pastor Doug, who’d become Arch’s mentor and friend. Doug called anger the go-to emotion, because it was the first to show up. The pastor’s words rose from memory and settled him. Stop. Identify the feelings. All of them.

Arch took a deep breath and tried to make space in his mind. There was anger, always. But there was more. Frustration that his past was coloring every moment of the present. Disappointment that Mandy wasn’t looking at him the way she had yesterday. Shame that he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s regard. Fear that he never would be.

Losing the glimmer of hope she’d offered him felt big. Truth was, he’d been hanging on to it like a lifeline. But trying to get that hope from Mandy, or from anyone, was a big mistake. The only hope that mattered was the feeling deep inside him. That small, stubborn belief that he could be a better person.

He had to remake his life on his own. And standing around here feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to get him far.

Arch swung onto the big gelding. Funny, he didn’t even know the horse’s name. He’d seemed strong and calm. The best choice for a big guy like Arch. And they’d gotten along well so far.

He’d found a path that connected the two ranches via a big well at the top of both properties. He’d take that way home now. And along the way he’d try to put Mandy out of his thoughts.

Fall in the eastern Sierra brought cold mornings, even on sunny days. His breath was visible where the peaks cast their shadows. Arch focused on gratitude, for the chilly air in his lungs and the feel of the big horse under him. If there was a definition of freedom, it had to be this. Riding alone in the quiet of the autumn mountains. Granite boulders scattered everywhere, turning landscape into moonscape. Sagebrush clinging to the dry soil.

Arch leaned down and broke off a sprig, inhaling its earthy, rich scent. And something inside him broke open, his gratitude expanding in a warm, soaring feeling that lifted his shoulders and lightened his heart. The deepest relief. The purest joy. Elation. Because he was here in this beauty. He was home. He was free. And that miracle mattered, more than anything.

* * *

THE TRAIL WOUND lower into the deep valley that sheltered Marker Ranch. When the terrain leveled, Arch let the gelding break into a lope, loving the speed and the horse’s smooth gait. Eventually the trail became dirt road. They passed recently painted outbuildings. Mended fences. Arch slowed the horse to a walk near the newly repaired barn.

A dark blue pickup was parked alongside it. A man was leaning on the tailgate, waiting. The horse’s pace quickened, as if he recognized the visitor.

“You found trouble,” the man called.

Arch stopped the horse a few paces away. “Pardon me?”

The man stepped forward and rubbed the horse’s nose, and Arch caught a glimpse of a lean face under the brim of a worn brown felt hat. “Trouble. That’s this horse’s name.”

Arch couldn’t contain his laugh. “I always was good at finding trouble. Guess not much has changed. You must be Todd.”