In The Rancher's Arms

“The news report I saw said at least some of them were killed during the rescue,” Sloane said.

Good riddance. Anyone who bought and sold other humans, including children, didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as decent people.

“I heard some of the city leaders want to honor her at the rodeo this weekend, give her a hero’s welcome home,” his mom said.

“That doesn’t seem like a very good idea.” When his mom and Sloane gave him eerily similar questioning looks, he said, “From what I saw, she’s not ready for that.”

“Well, her mother will no doubt run interference for her,” his mom said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Molly isn’t up for it either. She and Ken have been through so much the past several weeks.” She placed her hand on Sloane’s upper arm and gave Neil a look full of motherly love. “If something like that ever happened to one of my children, I’d lose my mind.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said, absolutely certain of his words. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You’d probably be on the first plane to wherever we were and you’d kick butt and take names.”

His mom laughed a little. “Now there’s a mental image. Well, go on, you two, scoot. I’m sure there’s something needs doing around here.”

He helped Sloane unload the new pup tents she was going to use for one of her camps for underprivileged kids. Sloane could seem no-nonsense sometimes, was definitely opinionated, but she had a soft spot for kids, especially ones who didn’t have much positivity in their lives. If she ever met someone, got married and had kids of her own, she’d be a great mom. She took after Diane Hartley in so many ways, even though they didn’t share one speck of DNA.

“What do you think happened to Arden?” she asked when they’d finished unloading and stood cooling off in the shade of a massive live oak tree.

A vision of the terrified look in Arden’s eyes before she’d attempted to hide it formed in his mind.

“Nothing good.”

* * *

ARDEN FELT LIKE a complete and utter fool as her mom drove them toward the house. She wanted to beat her fist against the passenger side door to release some of the anger over what her captors had done to her state of mind. She was not this person, one who damn near screamed bloody murder because someone dropped a coffeepot.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” her mom said.

“I know.” In fact, she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to worry her mother any more than she already had. At the moment she couldn’t even look at her mom. Though she heard the sympathy and concern in her mom’s voice, Arden knew if she saw it right now she wouldn’t be able to hold back tears.

When they popped over the hill that gave Arden her first view of her parents’ home, a lump rose in her throat. How many pitch-black nights had she slept in her cage imagining she was in the safe comfort of her childhood bedroom instead? It had seemed impossibly far away, but now it sat in front of her. The modest home, the elm tree that still held her tire swing, the little pond filled with ducks and flanked by a bench where she and her dad would sit and watch the ducks together.

And then she saw him, and she had to bite her lip to keep from making a twisted sound of relief and distress. When she’d found out a couple of days ago that her father had suffered a heart attack shortly after she’d been taken, she’d been swamped with the fear that she’d never see him again. Now there he sat in one of the rockers on the porch next to his sister, Emily.

He must have seen them at the same time because he and Emily stood, and he didn’t act like a man who’d had a heart attack as he left the porch and was halfway to her mom’s parking spot before her mom even got the car put into Park.

Arden’s legs shook as she stepped from the car, and she felt her tears demanding to be set free. Despite the shaky legs, she closed the distance between herself and her father with quick strides.

“My baby girl,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.

She finally lost the battle with her tears. “I’m so sorry, Dad.” The rush of emotions came out in great, gasping sobs.

Her dad continued to hold her close the same as he’d done when she was a child and someone had hurt her feelings or she’d had a bike wreck and scraped all the skin off her knees. Even though it felt so good to be held like that, she could tell he was weaker than she remembered. She should be supporting him, not the other way around, even though she was still weak herself from the weeks of captivity.

Arden stepped back and gripped his arms. “I’m so sorry I worried you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, honey.”

It was, and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure she never did anything to cause him harm again.

“You need to sit down, rest.”

Her father waved off her concern. “If I rest any more, I’m going to go crazy. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Not likely. In addition to being noticeably weaker, he was thinner and paler, as well. She started to insist he sit, but he smiled and gripped her hands with more of the strength with which she’d always associated him.

“I just want to look at my beautiful girl.”

“How about we go inside?” her aunt Emily said. “I bet you all are hungry.”

That was Emily from the time Arden could remember. If anyone was going through hard times of any sort, Emily was there to feed them.

Arden didn’t let go of her dad’s hand, but she allowed her aunt to give her a hug.

“We’re all so glad you’re safe,” Emily said next to her ear.

Arden offered her aunt a small smile as Emily stepped back. As her mom and Emily headed for the house, Arden turned to her dad. He reached up and wiped away the remnants of her tears then placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead.

“No more tears. You’re safe and you’re home. All is right with the world.”

That was only partially true. She knew from horrible experience that there was a lot very wrong with the world. But she couldn’t focus on that now, might not ever focus on it again. Instead, she slipped her arm around her father’s waist and accompanied him inside.

When they stepped through the door, Arden hadn’t taken two steps before she was greeted by another member of the family. Lemondrop, the family’s spoiled-rotten cat, twined himself in and around her ankles. Arden reached down and picked up the cat, running her fingers through his yellow fur.

“Hey, handsome.” She rubbed her nose against Lemondrop’s, and he began to purr loud enough to be heard in the next county.

“He tried to come with me to the airport this morning,” her mom said. “It was as if he knew where I was going.”

“Maybe he did,” her father said. “That cat is smarter than you think.”

It was a miracle Lemondrop had even lived. Arden had found him wet and emaciated on the side of the road when she was in high school. Dr. Franklin, the local vet, hadn’t held out a lot of hope for the kitten’s survival. Not one to give up, Arden had nursed little Lemondrop back to health and earned his undying devotion.

“You’d never know he was once a scrawny little kitten,” her mom said, echoing Arden’s thoughts.

Throughout the rest of the day, Arden somehow managed to make conversation with her family. They didn’t ask her anything about her captivity, though she knew they had to have a million questions. But she must be giving off an “I’m not ready to talk about it” vibe.

At one point, she curled up on the couch and dozed off with Lemondrop snuggled next to her. It was an unfortunate position for the cat when Arden jerked awake from a nightmare, sending him fleeing as if she’d turned into a fire-breathing monster.

By the time she and her parents finished eating dinner, filled alternately with light topics of conversation and tense silences, Arden was exhausted despite her nap.

“I’m going to go to bed,” she said.

“You need a good night’s sleep,” her mom said as she started to rise.

Arden held out her hand to stay her. “I’m fine. I’ll probably conk out before I hit the pillow.”

But despite being more tired than she’d ever imagined possible, she couldn’t go to sleep. Now that she was alone, her mind started spinning in circles, refusing to let her fall into oblivion. Images she’d held at bay since arriving home broke free to plague her. She shoved hard at them, forcefully replacing them with anything else she could latch on to—the time Lemondrop squared off against an opossum on the back porch, the framed copy of her first article from the high school paper, the time she’d been chased by an ostrich when it broke free of its pen at the county fair. Neil Hartley.

Her thoughts slowed and fixed on him, creating an odd calm within her. No doubt it was only a temporary reprieve from the memories that demanded space in her mind, but she’d take it even if she didn’t understand it. She didn’t really know him well. He was just the older brother of a classmate. And yet he’d known exactly what she’d needed in the convenience store that morning. She’d only made eye contact briefly, but it had been enough to realize he’d gotten even better-looking in the years that had passed. If she was the same woman she was even two months ago, she might try to get to know him better. But she wasn’t that person anymore.