by Leigh Riker
I can’t believe you’d just walk away from Emmie, Finn had said. Sierra had done enough damage to her daughter, and Annabelle didn’t want to add to that. For too long she’d seen Sierra as her champion, her protector, but if she’d been wrong about Sierra, what else was she wrong about? Stay, Emmie had begged her. So what if Annabelle wasn’t the most experienced person to parent that adorable little girl? She was learning, and she would get better. As Olivia had told her, We all learn by doing.
No one criticized Annabelle now in the house where she’d grown up or in the diner she now ran on her own. She even missed the diner this morning, the clang of pots and pans, the hiss of bacon frying, the cinnamon scent of fresh pumpkin pies, the daily sight of her regular customers coming in for breakfast, lunch or dinner and, often, conversation. The ladies from the library auxiliary, Nell and even Harry Barnes. She knew them all, cared about them, too, as she did her other friends.
You can travel the world, but unless you make peace with your parents, they’ll always control you, Finn had said. And he was right.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t leave Emmie. Or—if there was some way to make amends—Finn. Might as well admit it. She loved him.
* * *
FINN HAD TAKEN the red-eye from Chicago to Kansas City. There, in the airport parking lot, he’d picked up the new Dodge Ram he’d bought to haul hay and equipment at the farm then drove just above the speed limit toward Barren. As he blew past the town sign that read “Population 5,265. A good place to call home,” he decided to look for a used horse trailer. If he had to take Freckles or Brown to the vet, he didn’t want to call Logan, Sawyer or Grey every time. The realization that Grey had turned him into a cowboy of sorts didn’t make him flinch.
After bringing in The Brothers and Sanchez, Finn had asked himself some serious questions. Did he want to bury himself here, as Annabelle accused him of doing, remain focused on his past and the tragedy that had taken his family from him?
Through the court as well he would find the justice he’d sought for Caro and Alex at last, but that wouldn’t bring them back. He didn’t feel the sense of peace he’d hoped for in the wake of the raid. Would he spend the rest of his life becoming like his father, fixated on his job, keeping the people of Barren safe, while letting the rest of him wither away? Did he want to lose Annabelle and Emmie, as he had Caro and Alex?
He ached for every one of them, but could he love again? Marry a second time and have more children? He was getting way ahead of himself, but he envisioned a little girl with Annabelle’s rich brown hair, her clear brown-to-green eyes and the sweet smile that caught at his heart. Her generous spirit, and how he’d ached for her whenever, because she felt uncomfortable, Annabelle turned away to serve other people. The love he knew she felt for Emmie even when that went against her plans for her future.
Finn made the turn onto Main Street, sped two blocks to the corner of Cottonwood then pulled into a space in front of the diner. As he shut off the engine, his spirits plummeted. The red-and-white sign in the window had a new diagonal strip across it that read Sale Pending.
In his absence Annabelle had sold the diner—exactly what she’d been waiting for. Finn jumped out of the truck, jogged to the restaurant door and pulled it open. The early-bird crowd was finishing breakfast, and the rich aromas of Annabelle’s western omelet, bacon and sausage wafted through the warm, cozy space. People talked, laughed and clinked coffee mugs with each other. Well-worn Stetsons hung on the end posts of every booth, and at the large center table a group of ranchers seemed to be debating falling cattle prices. A few heads turned. Several pairs of eyes homed in on Finn. At the counter he saw Sawyer and Doc Baxter eating huge pieces of what looked like Annabelle’s huckleberry pie, cups of black coffee beside them. “Hey, Doc. Sawyer. A gathering of the local medical society?”
“We’re bachelors today.” Sawyer sipped his coffee. “Big women’s meeting in progress. Olivia got a new shipment of rugs from Kedar, and her local consortium is planning their Christmas fund-raiser for the cooperative over there. Doc’s wife is one of her helpers. They’re hoping to sell out for the holidays.”
“We don’t expect to see them until New Year’s,” Doc muttered, but his sharp blue eyes twinkled like Santa Claus. “You looking for someone, Sheriff?”
“Annabelle.” There was no use hiding his intent. Somehow, he would convince her they had a good thing going; he’d known that before he arrested Sanchez.
“You’re looking in the wrong place,” Doc said.
Finn hoped she was in the kitchen or her office. “What do you mean?”
Sawyer told him, “Yesterday was her last running the diner.” He added, making Finn’s heart sink toward his boots, “I imagine she’s already left town.”
* * *
ANNABELLE MADE A quick U-turn then headed back to the Circle H.
To her astonishment—and delight—Emmie was still looking out the storm door at the driveway, her melting Popsicle dripping down one arm, Finnie the lamb in the other. As soon as she spied Annabelle’s car, she dropped the Popsicle, pushed out onto the porch and flew down the steps shouting, “A-bel! Here I am!”
Annabelle stopped the car. In those few moments by the side of the road, she had missed Emmie until her heart did break. She shoved the gearshift into Park, switched off the engine then flung open her door. Annabelle hadn’t stopped crying since she’d avoided the rabbit. In a few running steps, with more tears streaming down her face, she had Emmie in her arms again. They clung to each other, Emmie’s arms around her neck, face buried in Annabelle’s jacket, the silk of Emmie’s hair against Annabelle’s lips. “Baby, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t go to school?”
“I don’t know,” she said around the hard lump in her throat that she couldn’t seem to swallow. “All I know is I couldn’t leave you. I’ll never leave you, Emmie. I promise. Wherever I go, you’ll come with me.” Somehow she would make that work for both of them.
Emmie raised her head. Her blue eyes met Annabelle’s. “I like it here. I like it at you house.” She held up her lamb. “Finnie does too.”
“We’ll think of something. Together.”
For another moment she envisioned the years ahead watching Emmie learn and grow, as Finn had said she should. Annabelle’s mother had been wrong; she could be a good parent. She would be, beginning now. Or had she started the night of Sierra’s accident?
She eased back, put her hands on Emmie’s narrow shoulders. “For now let’s go—”
“See Finn?”
Annabelle felt another wrenching sense of loss. “Maybe later.” If he came back from Chicago, if he let her into his life, but after their quarrel that was far from certain and she couldn’t tell Emmie. “Let’s go home. I’ll make lunch. Scrambled eggs,” she said. “We can play Chutes and Ladders all afternoon. What else would you like?”
Emmie grinned. “Read Janie?”
“Yes. Three times if you want.”
She clapped her hands, smeared with red Popsicle juice, then glanced toward the nearby barn. “I ride Freckles today—Blossom said—with Nick.” She paused. “But I go home with you.”
Annabelle took her hand and started for the porch. “We’ll get your things, tell Blossom. You can ride next time.”
To her surprise Emmie didn’t object. She skipped all the way to the steps then jumped up each one onto the porch. “I stay with you, A-bel!”
“Yes you will. Forever.” Annabelle finally swallowed. “You’re my little girl now.”
She was smiling through her tears when Blossom appeared in the doorway holding her baby. She looked down at Emmie then up at Annabelle. And grinned. Neither of them had to say a word.
But of course Emmie was chattering as the door opened and they stepped into the house. “What else I want,” she said, “is a doughnut.”
* * *
F
INN HAD LEFT the diner with his head down. Disappointment swamped him. He’d have to wait until Annabelle finished her course. At least that gave him time to plan what to say, but he felt as if he’d already lost her for good.
And where was Emmie staying while she was away? He put his truck in gear then drove by her house just in case, but, clearly, no one was there.
Finn headed next for Wilson Cattle. When his flight had landed in KC and he took his phone off airplane mode, he’d found a message on his voice mail from the judge on the Derek Moran case. The news wasn’t what he’d once hoped for. He was going to have to eat some crow.
Derek was no choirboy, and he’d stepped out of line often enough, but caught up in the loss of Caro and Alex, Finn had made Derek into a scapegoat. In his mind he’d confused him with Eduardo Sanchez, a far more dangerous character.
The chain saws, it turned out, had nothing to do with Derek. While Finn was gone his deputy had arrested Derek’s former roommate, Calvin Stern, who still lived—conveniently—in the apartment above Earl Morris’s hardware store. Finn hadn’t questioned his fingerprints being all over the place, but Calvin had taken the saws and tool chests hours before Derek showed up.
Finn found Derek in the barn talking to one of Grey’s horses. “C’mon, sweetheart. You don’t want to give me any trouble. Lift that pretty leg so I can see the problem.” The well-trained horse complied and Derek, bent over a hoof, said, “Picked up a stone, that’s all.” He reached up to stroke the horse’s side. “You’ll be ready to ride by tomorrow.”
His easy manner, his gentle tone, surprised Finn. “Derek?”
He spun around, his gaze immediately wary. “Thought you were out of town.”
Finn walked toward him, remembering the care Derek had taken to polish Olivia’s bridles, seeing the obvious affection he had for these horses. “Heard the news,” he said. “I suppose you did too. Judge says you’re in the clear.”
“Except for some community service, yeah. He thinks I’m ‘redeemable.’” Holding a hoof pick, Derek stooped to pry the stone from the horse’s foot. “I’m kind of busy, Sheriff. Grey’s in Farrier with Dusty to meet a shipper with some new cattle he bought, so I’m the boss till they get back.” His mouth twisted. “And no, I don’t plan to steal any cows. You come up with another charge?”
“No charge,” Finn said, clearing his throat. “I came to apologize. I’ve been too hard on you, Derek.” He thought of young Joey Foxworth and the boys’ club, and what Annabelle had said about helping Derek. “The only excuse I have is my own blind spot.” He looked at the ground. “We don’t know each other well, but I need to say this anyway. My family—” Finn broke off.
“—got killed in Chicago,” Derek said. “Yeah, I remember.”
“And I remember how you taunted me about that. Made me mad as could be when you even dared to mention Caro and Alex.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I reacted badly.” Finn ran a hand through his hair. “The Brothers and Sanchez—the gang that shot them—are in custody now, and the justice I wanted so badly for my family will finally come. But I’m sorry I let my hatred for those thugs spread to include you.”
“Huh.” Derek didn’t seem to know what to say. “Well, they’re off the streets now.”
“For a long time, I hope.” Finn felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from him. Still, he couldn’t let Derek completely off the hook. “I have to tell you, if it were up to me, I’d have pursued those rustling charges, but the court has made its decision. You got off easy this time.”
Derek straightened. He unhitched the horse from the cross ties then led it to a stall. He slid the door shut then turned. “I’m clean, Sheriff. My first mistake was coming with my brother Jared that night to this very ranch—where he died. I still can’t walk past that front porch without seeing the whole thing, but I’m working on it.”
Finn stared at him. This was a first, Derek taking responsibility for his actions. “I know what you mean. Grey says that, too.” He held out his hand. “Apology accepted?”
“Long as you don’t chase me down Main Street for showing off my truck.”
“If it’s against the law—”
Derek laughed. He took Finn’s extended hand. “Lighten up, Sheriff.”
“Finn,” he said. “As long as you stay on the right side of things, we’ll be fine.”
* * *
TO ANNABELLE’S RELIEF, as soon as she pulled up to Finn’s barn, she saw he was home. She’d heard from Sawyer and Doc that he’d returned, and after spending the afternoon with Emmie she couldn’t wait any longer to drive out to the farm. With his back to her, he stood in the barn aisle grooming the bay gelding. For a moment she sat watching the play of muscle in Finn’s broad shoulders and back, his lean but well-built frame, the glint of the late day sun off his dark hair.
“You’re back,” she said, getting out of the car.
With a brush in his hand, Finn turned and she saw his eyes light up. “This morning,” he said. “I stopped by the diner, but you were gone.” His gaze seemed to drink her in—or did she just want to think it did? A sleepy-looking Sarge loped around the corner of the barn, tail wagging, and Annabelle stooped to pat his head. “Logan drove him and the horses home,” Finn said. “I thought you were on your way to Phoenix.”
“I couldn’t go,” she said. “I mean, I can’t.” She told Finn about last night with Emmie. “How could I leave her, Finn? Even for ten days, never mind forever, no matter how well cared for she might be. It’s just as you said. I won’t have Emmie think I’m like Sierra, dumping her here and there to do my own thing.” She told him about her conversation with Elizabeth Barnes, the DNA test, her promise to provide support for Emmie if, indeed, Harry was her father.
“And he’d relinquish any other claim to Emmie?”
“Yes. Olivia’s sitter is with her now so I could come talk to you.”
He walked toward her, passing the grooming brush from one hand to the other.
“What about your course?”
“I had my priorities mixed up. I’ll take a course another time. When Emmie came to me, my life changed too. I’m keeping her, Finn.”
His gaze flickered. “What I hear, you’ve sold the diner.”
“To Jack Hancock. And I put the house on the market today. It’s not where I want to live. So, we’ll be moving, but I’m thinking...somewhere here in town.” Where she could at least see him.
With Sarge behind him, Finn wandered back into the barn, and for a moment Annabelle thought she’d been dismissed, and that, as she’d feared, Finn didn’t care what she did or where she went. She couldn’t blame him. Annabelle followed, pausing in the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to you, Finn. I truly can’t imagine losing everyone I loved as you did.”
“Not everyone,” he murmured.
Annabelle wasn’t sure what that meant. “How can I fault you for wanting to be left alone?”
“No, actually, that was what I needed to hear.” As he tacked up Brown, his movements sure and confident, Finn said, “I didn’t want to get close to anyone, Annabelle, but you made me see how wrong that was. So did Cooper—my partner—from his hospital bed.”
“Something happened in Chicago,” she guessed, a look of horror in her eyes.
Finn told her about the shooting. “I was able to join the task force there to round up The Brothers. I made the arrests with the help of Jimmy O’Neill and the other members of the force, but then I realized that wouldn’t be enough. I’m ready now,” he said, “to look at those mementos in my dresser drawer. Maybe—like I was with your closet—you’d like to be there for me.”
Annabelle blinked. The tears brimmed anyway, threatening to spill over. “Of course. That was something I needed to do and so do you. I’ll help with your storage unit too if you
want.” And settle for friendship if she had to.
“Good,” he said. “Because I’m not buried anymore, Annabelle—I’m alive. Let’s talk some more. You can ride double with me.”
Annabelle half smiled. “So you’re taking Grey’s advice?”
Finn flushed. “About ready to buy myself that hat,” he said, then led the bay past Annabelle out into the fading light. “It’ll be dark soon, but we have time for a short trip around these five acres. My little kingdom,” he added, his gaze sliding away from hers. “Funny, how getting on a horse really can cure whatever ails you.”
Despite her lack of experience with horses, Annabelle didn’t refuse. Finn helped her up into the saddle. He rode behind, his tanned arms around her. Annabelle gazed down at his hands loose on the reins, remembering how it had felt when he touched her. How she’d felt when he kissed her. They went through the new gate into the pasture with Sarge trotting along, having befriended Big Brown, then took a few laps around the fenced-in area while Annabelle tried to calm her nerves. There was no denying how good it was to have the horse under her, the sway of the gelding’s body in a slow walk then a lazy lope, to watch the setting sun across the meadow and hear the birds roosting for the night in the trees. Peaceful. She was no rider, but it seemed Finn had learned quite well. So could she—another, different adventure.
“Olivia’s a good teacher,” Finn said as the sky turned a deepening blue with gorgeous wisps of pale pink and the sun finally slipped below the horizon. “I’m not the best student, but I’m coming along. Maybe I ought to buy another horse.”
Annabelle’s pulse tripped. Did he mean— “For Emmie? She’s not ready, is she?”
