In The Rancher's Arms

“You don’t look as if you had a good trip to town. Did your sale fall through?” In addition to helping run the ranch, his brother was a talented saddlemaker. He was just beginning to build his business, but he’d recently made a nice sale to a guy from Dallas and had gone into town to meet his customer for delivery of the finished product.

“No, he paid me. Liked the saddle.”

“But?”

Ben glanced toward the house, as if to check that no one was within earshot. “Guy is a real estate agent with some big firm in Dallas. Turns out he represents a client looking to acquire ranch land in the area as an investment.”

“Lot of that going around.” In fact, the exorbitant prices being commanded for former family ranches was what was driving property taxes sky-high.

“Yeah, but it’s the ranch that he wants that’s the problem. The guy did some satellite imagery searches and decided he wants the Rocking Heart.”

The ranch that had been in their dad’s family for generations? That wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m guessing you told him it wasn’t for sale.”

“Yep. He said his client is persistent though and made an offer anyway.”

Neil held up his hand. “I don’t even want to know the amount because it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t think we should tell Mom and Dad? It would be their decision, after all.”

The very idea of selling this ranch, and to someone who was sure not to appreciate its history, caused a ball of disgust to form in Neil’s gut. “You know what their answer would be, so no.”

Ben nodded in agreement. “The pressure may mount, though. Heard the Websters are throwing in the towel and selling out.”

Neil’s heart sank at that news. He’d hoped the fellow ranching family they all knew well would be able to soldier on after their herd was hit hard by a pasture fire the summer before. On the heels of a higher tax bill and Mrs. Webster being in a car wreck last winter while Christmas shopping, it must have been too much.

The accumulation of bad luck drew his thoughts to the dead cow. “We’ll make it. Mom and Dad got us through worse times before.”

But as his parents were getting older, he was taking more of the responsibility of keeping things afloat on himself. It was a balancing act between being aware of the ranch’s finances and worrying himself into a premature ulcer about them. His mom told him that he worried too much, and maybe he did, but he couldn’t seem to help it. Keeping this ranch and family together was the most important thing in the world to him. And he’d do whatever was necessary to ensure he was successful.

* * *

ARDEN REALIZED SHE’D been on the verge of dozing off on the front porch when the phone inside the house rang. She blinked several times, trying to clear her foggy head, as she heard her mom answer the call.

“Nothing like a nap on the porch with a purring cat in your lap,” her dad said from where he sat in the other chair, reading the Blue Falls Gazette.

“I guess not.” She supposed basic biology had more to do with it. If she wasn’t getting enough sleep at night, her body was going to demand it some other time.

The headline at the top of the front page caught her attention. Water Plant to Get Upgrades. It seemed so normal, so benign, so unlike the types of stories she’d been covering the past several years as an international correspondent. And yet, she supposed it was important to the people of Blue Falls. And no one was likely to be kidnapped while working on a story like that.

“Still having trouble sleeping?” her dad asked.

“I’m fine.” She shifted her attention to where Lemondrop lay curled up on her lap. “This guy’s purrs would put anyone to sleep.”

Arden didn’t make eye contact with her dad. She suspected he knew the truth she refused to speak. She only hoped that if she continued to act as if it wasn’t a problem, he wouldn’t worry too much.

She stared toward the road when someone honked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her dad wave at Gideon Tharpe, one of her high school classmates. He’d grown up on a ranch in the most remote part of the county.

“He and his brother started opening their place up to birding tours. Every now and then I see buses head out that way.”

“Windy road to take a bus down.”

“Yeah. Evidently they’re on some migratory route for songbirds.”

The door opened, and Arden’s mom stepped out onto the porch.

“Who was on the phone, dear?”

Her mom placed her hand affectionately at the back of Arden’s dad’s head. “The mayor.”

Arden detected a slight hesitance in her mom’s voice and her movements as she slipped into another of the comfortable outdoor chairs.

“What did she want?” her dad asked.

Her mom lifted her gaze to Arden’s. “The town wants to honor Arden at the rodeo on Saturday night.”

“Honor me?” She hadn’t done anything but survive through pure luck. That hardly seemed worth special recognition, not like running into a burning building to save people or flying sick children to hospitals.

“They want to have a ceremony before the rodeo starts to welcome you home, sweetie. Everyone was so worried and sent up a lot of prayers for your safe return. They are all so glad you’re home safely.”

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea,” her dad said, echoing Arden’s thoughts.

How was she supposed to wade into a crowd, stand in front of them, when she’d already shown she was as jumpy as a cornered rabbit? But then the large numbers on those medical bills swam through her mind. Despite having insurance, her parents still owed more than they could possibly pay in a timely fashion. Arden didn’t have any choice but to get a job and help whittle down that debt. Maybe going to the rodeo was the first step. She had to get acclimated to being around people and noise and the rituals of everyday life again if she hoped to find employment. And maybe she could ask around while at the rodeo, see if there were any job openings in town.

Not that she had any experience other than journalism or a couple of summers serving up pizzas at Gia’s. Just the thought of all that interaction with people, the curious stares and whispered musings about what exactly she’d gone through was enough to make her want to throw up. But sometimes you had to power through whether you wanted to or not.

“It’s fine,” she said, evidently surprising her dad judging by the look he sent her way. “I’ll go.”

Her mom smiled with such relief that it made Arden want to cry.

“That’s wonderful. It’ll be good for you to go out, see some of your friends.”

Not everyone had left Blue Falls to travel around the world like she had, so Arden wondered how much she’d have in common with them now. Would she even be able to get through the evening without experiencing a horrible reaction like she had at the convenience store? And she doubted she’d be lucky enough to have someone handy to shield her this time.

Her thoughts shifted to Neil Hartley, how he’d seemed to know exactly what she’d needed in that moment. If she got the opportunity, she’d have to thank him for that.

“Are you sure?” her dad asked.

Before she could allow herself to chicken out, she nodded. Her anxiety hadn’t magically disappeared once she was surrounded by the comfort of home, so maybe it was going to take more work to rid herself of it. Maybe she had to do precisely the thing she didn’t want to—place herself out in the open, vulnerable, unable to watch every direction for potential threats.

Stop it! She screamed the words at herself in her head. She was no more likely to be attacked at the rodeo than the water treatment plant’s updates were of making national headlines.

But no matter how much she told herself that over the next few days, it didn’t alleviate the hard knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her middle. She hoped it was simply anticipatory anxiety, that it would go away once she arrived at the rodeo and saw some friendly faces. She tried to discount what had happened at the convenience store that first day. She’d been exhausted, jet-lagged, still getting used to not being a captive. Now that she’d had a few days of relative normalcy, surely she could manage to smile and make small talk for a couple of hours if it was in the pursuit of getting her life back on track. A new track, that was. Her days of globe-trotting to troubled hot spots were over. Someone else would have to fill that role.

Saturday afternoon, she sifted through the assortment of clothes her roommate had pulled together from Arden’s room in their shared apartment just outside DC. Jeans and the worn University of Texas T-shirt seemed a safe bet to blend in with the crowd. She didn’t have any boots, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Her feet were too sore from maneuvering the confines of her cage barefoot to wear anything that would rub against her skin that much. So the trusty, comfortable sandals it was.

“You ready, sweetie?” her mom asked when she paused at Arden’s open door.