High Country Homecoming

by Roxanne Rustand

  From across the table, Devlin saw tears shimmer in Darla’s eyes as she quietly reached over to hold her husband’s hand.

  “Thank you, Betty—and everyone,” Darla said, her voice wavering. “You probably can’t imagine what this means to me. And Don, too. If my daughter wasn’t with her dad this weekend, I know she would’ve loved to be here, as well.”

  Darla had to be a good twenty years younger than Don, if not more, and her platinum hair, heavy makeup and flashy sequined shirt were definitely a contrast to her ranch-weathered husband. But the look of love that passed between them was unmistakable.

  For all of their differences, they had something he would never have, Dev realized, feeling a twinge in his chest. He wondered if they knew just how blessed they were to have been able to make a good life together.

  Things didn’t always turn out that way.

  At church he’d been so acutely aware of Chloe sitting next to him that he’d had trouble focusing on the first hymn, though when Pastor Bob began his message he’d sat up a little straighter when the man’s gaze seemed to land on him for a moment before moving on.

  The Easter message had been about Christ’s death and resurrection, and the forgiveness of sins that offered life everlasting to those who believed.

  After the pastor spoke of the power of prayer in asking for forgiveness, he’d said that since Christ grants us grace and forgiveness, so too we must have the courage and strength to forgive each other and ourselves. And to continue to condemn ourselves for past mistakes was to deny the power of that forgiveness.

  How many times had he heard this message while sitting next to his brothers under the watchful eye of Grandma Betty? Yet this time the pastor’s rich, mellow voice seemed to strike home in a deeper way.

  Forgiveness.

  But was that even possible after all the ways he’d failed those he loved and the guilt that still consumed him?

  After all the times he’d prayed so hard for something, and his prayers hadn’t been answered, he’d begun to doubt God even listened to him. His prayers hadn’t saved Heather or Mom or Gina. They’d all died anyway.

  Yet Betty had never doubted, never questioned, he was sure of it. She held on to her faith like it was a beacon of hope that would never dim.

  Maybe someday, if he tried harder, he could have a faith like hers.

  * * *

  Dr. Wendel beckoned Devlin and Chloe back into the exam room, where Daisy was lying on a stainless steel table, with the older vet tech at her side.

  “I looked at her new X-rays, compared to the first set, and Daisy has done remarkably well for a dog that was so debilitated when she came in. The bone realignment is still in position and she’s healing as expected.”

  At the sheer delight on Chloe’s face, Devlin smiled. “What about the cast?”

  “I think it can come off in about five weeks or so, if her X-rays still look good.”

  “Dev has been really careful about limiting her activity.” Chloe stroked Daisy’s head. “How is her weight?”

  “Up almost eight pounds, which is excellent progress.” The vet scanned the information in Daisy’s chart on her iPad. “Since we had no old records on her, we had to start from scratch. Last time, we gave her a first rabies, plus all of the vaccinations she needed as an adult dog. Do you have any questions?”

  Develin and Chloe exchanged glances. “I don’t think so,” he said. “At least not right now.”

  “Have you had any responses to your posters about finding her?”

  Chloe shook her head. “Nope. But when my cell rings, I keep hoping it isn’t someone wanting her back.”

  “Well, one thing you might try is asking some older folks in town if they knew Leonard Farley or know someone else who might have,” Dr. Wendel mused. “Maybe one of them could help you identify the dog as his and put your minds at ease. I have an older client right after you who might be able to help. I think she has lived in the area for years.”

  Out in the waiting room, a silver-haired woman sat with some sort of fluffy dog in her lap. When Chloe and Devlin came out, she wrapped her arms around her little dog and gave Daisy a wary look.

  “What a sweet little dog you have,” Chloe said. “By any chance would you have known Leonard Farley or know someone who might have? He had a cabin up in the mountains and died a few years ago.”

  The woman shook her head, still keeping a firm grip on her dog. “No idea. You could ask at the post office, or maybe the bank.”

  At the bank, no one had heard of him. At the post office, the single clerk behind the counter appeared to be in her twenties and had never heard his name, either.

  Chloe sighed as they stepped back out onto the sidewalk and headed for Devlin’s SUV. “At least it was worth a shot—”

  The color drained from her face and her steps faltered, her eyes riveted on the Minnesota license plate of a white sedan. She scanned both sides of the vehicle. Then her gaze swept the sidewalks on both sides of Main Street.

  “Who are you looking for?” Mystified, Devlin looked at the car, then back at her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. No—not at all.”

  Which was totally implausible, given her sudden level of tension.

  “You’re sure?”

  With a quick shake of her head, she strode to the side of his SUV and climbed in as soon as he hit the lock button on his key fob.

  There had to be a lot of other things he didn’t know about her, even though they’d known each other long ago, he realized as he helped Daisy into the back of the SUV. Anything could have happened during the intervening years.

  And there was yet another question that had been simmering at the back of his mind since the day she’d arrived. Sure, she’d had a plausible explanation.

  But really, who would drive a thousand miles from Minneapolis just to hole up in a little cabin for months to write when there could’ve been hundreds of other options closer to home?

  He turned to face her after he got behind the wheel and started the engine. “Seriously, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is everything all right?”

  The worry in her eyes and that faint glimmer of a smile didn’t look very convincing. “I...I just saw a Minnesota plate on a car that looked like one an old friend had. But I’m sure it wasn’t the same car.”

  Right. The appearance of an “old friend” wouldn’t send her into a state of shock.

  And come to think of it, what was the real reason she’d seemed so wary of Lance? Because he was with the sheriff’s department? Yet the thought of Chloe ever having more than a parking ticket on her record was beyond imagination.

  He pulled out of his parking spot and headed down a few blocks to Miller’s Amish Market and Café. “Betty wanted me to pick up some things for her in here. Do you want to come in?”

  She shook her head. “It does look really interesting, but I’ll go when I have a lot more time to browse. I’ll just stay here with Daisy.”

  “Really?” He took another look at the large plate glass windows of the storefront, which were filled with stacks of colorful quilts, knitting yarn and all sorts of gifty-looking handcrafted doodads that had to be appealing to the local women and any tourists passing through. What woman would not be eager to go in there?

  Someone who didn’t want to accidently meet up with someone from her past, maybe, if Chloe’s reaction to that white car was any clue.

  After picking up Betty’s yarn, he drove on to the sheriff’s office, where he pulled to a stop once again. He looked over at Chloe and draped one hand over the wheel. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  She tucked a swath of her auburn hair behind her ear and fixed her gaze on a woman pushing a baby stroller down the sidewalk. “Not really. I’ll just wait out here if you’re going in.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
>
  Startled, she shot a glance at him. “Goodness, no.”

  “If you need help of any kind, you just need to say so.”

  “I don’t. Everything is fine, really.” But she didn’t meet his eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  This is for you, Grandma Lydia, Chloe whispered as she collected a stack of spiral notebooks filled with notes on her recipe experiments, opened up her laptop and fired it up.

  Rain drizzled down the windows, obscuring the beautiful view in every direction, making it a perfect day to work inside her cozy cabin, with a small, cheery fire crackling in the fireplace.

  She took a sip of cherry tea and contemplated the stack of empty boxes she’d brought out of the closets last night. She’d been on the verge of packing, but then stopped.

  The white car with Minnesota plates had startled her yesterday. Reminded her of just how vulnerable she still was.

  Even with the care she’d taken when she’d left Minneapolis, someone with good sleuthing skills could probably find her anywhere. And what then? She hoped she could count the people here as friends who would believe her.

  She’d done nothing wrong. Her expensive lawyers had represented her well. But a smarmy supermarket-tabloid reporter had all but driven her out of town anyway, with his lies and innuendos, and if he followed her here, he might follow her to Kansas City too, and then what?

  Holly had been kind to offer her a good job, but even she couldn’t be expected to accept having her company’s name dragged through the mud just to help out her sister.

  At the sound of a gentle knock, she spun around and peered through the little peephole in the door, then flung the door open. “Abby! My goodness. Come in!”

  “Sorry about the mess,” Abby said as she toed off her high rubber boots and hung her raincoat on the coatrack by the door, then dropped two shopping bags on the kitchen counter. “I just had to show you something— Oh.”

  Her eyes widened as she turned and took in the pile of boxes in the middle of the floor. “You aren’t leaving, are you? Please say you aren’t.”

  “No.” Chloe knew she would need to explain sooner or later, but hopefully not just yet. “I’m...uh...going to break down those boxes so they’ll lay flat and slide under the bed. They’re taking up too much room.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” Abby gave her a searching look. “I haven’t seen either you or Devlin around since Sunday, so I thought I’d come up and see if you’re all right. I hoped the two of you hadn’t had a big falling-out or something.”

  “That’s a little hard when you aren’t exactly an item in the first place,” Chloe said with a laugh. “I’m just here working, and since Jess is back to doing at least most of the chores, Devlin might be working on remodeling that cabin he’s in.”

  Abby’s brow furrowed. “Not an item, you say. Really?”

  “He’s not looking, and neither am I, which is perfect. We can just be friends for the time that I’m here, with no awkward complications.”

  “Hmm.”

  “It’s true.”

  “So, tell me—why isn’t he looking?’”

  “I gather that he had a girlfriend who passed away. I don’t know the circumstances or when, but I’m guessing that she must have been the love of his life, because he refuses to talk about her. Poor man.”

  “Okay, I can buy that. Unless it’s been like a decade ago, and then it’s just an excuse to not even try. But what about you—why aren’t you pursuing this opportunity? You’re lovely, smart and obviously talented—you could help him move on, right?”

  Chloe thought back over the romantic failures she’d been through. The last one, which had been by far the worst of all. Words failed her, and all she could do was shake her head.

  “Personally, I think you two are perfect together. So does Betty, and she knows the two of you better than I do.”

  Chloe drew in a pained breath as it all came back to her. Her phone call to the ranch in late March, inquiring about any rental cabins during April. Betty’s exuberant response—and her pure innocence when she said that the only brother at the ranch was Jess.

  If Betty hadn’t known about Devlin’s plans by March, she’d certainly have known about his arrival days before Chloe had arrived. And she hadn’t said a word.

  “That stinker,” Chloe exclaimed. “She knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “And no doubt she was trying to be a matchmaker. Which is unbelievably optimistic, given that Devlin despised me when I was little. Which, by the way, Betty knew. She constantly scolded him about being nicer, and it never helped a bit.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of Abby’s mouth. “Apparently you haven’t noticed the way he looks at you, then.”

  “Like I’m an alien, probably. That was one of his nicknames for me when I was ten. I think I graduated to Froggy when I was eleven.”

  “Actually, his gaze sort of follows you when you walk by, and it’s more of an ‘I can’t believe she’s this beautiful now’ look. And don’t be offended, but I see the way you look at him, too. And there is definitely something there, whether you want to admit it or not. It took me way too long to learn this lesson, but some things are far too precious to waste.”

  Chloe laughed. “You are going to be a wonderful mother to those twins. You’re already quite the storyteller. Bedtime will always be an adventure.”

  “I hope so. The longer I’m here, the more I love them. I can’t even believe how much. And Jess—he’s already the most wonderful daddy.” Abby seemed to glow with happiness from within, but then she grew somber. “When I think about what they went through when they were younger, it’s all I can do not to cry.”

  They both fell silent for a moment, and then Abby reach out for Chloe’s hand. “But I didn’t come here to be all teary-eyed, really. I came bearing gifts—some yummy leftovers from our big dinner yesterday—and I also wanted to ask your advice. Have you ever planned a shotgun wedding?”

  Chloe stared at her. “A what?”

  “Sorry.” Abby flapped a hand against her mouth and chuckled. “I meant a short-notice wedding—like in June.”

  “I haven’t, but I’d be glad to help...as long as I’m still here.”

  “It probably seems impulsive, since I just came back to the ranch last fall. But it isn’t, really,” Abby said earnestly, as she dumped one of the bags out onto the counter. She’d brought some bridal magazines and a ream of printouts from online bridal sites. “Jess and I dated through high school and college, and back then we’d assumed we would eventually get married. But we had a fight, broke up...and here we are, all these years later, finally getting things right.”

  “A happily-ever-after, after all.”

  “Exactly. And I really regret wasting all of those wonderful years.” A twinkle sparkled in Abby’s eyes as she gave Chloe a measuring look. “Something to think about, because time marches on, and you can never get it back.”

  She made it sound so simple. An easy decision, and then you could have a happily-ever-after, too.

  But Dev was clearly bound by deep wounds from the past and grief over a loved one. And she had learned the hard way that love didn’t last, trusting someone with your heart was a dangerous thing and one inadvertent mistake could lead to notoriety that never, ever went away.

  * * *

  Devlin pried off the last damp strip of wallpaper covered with garish pink and green salmon and stuffed it into a black plastic trash bag.

  He could not imagine his mother or grandma ever choosing something this awful for the bathroom of a cabin. The wife of a long-ago ranch hand maybe?

  Whoever it was, they’d used industrial-strength wallpaper paste, or maybe even household glue, and they’d even plastered the paper all over the ceiling. He’d been soaking and scraping it for two days, during spare moments between other projects, until hi
s bad shoulder ached and his neck muscles were in knots.

  Even with the paper finally off, thick swirls of petrified wallpaper paste still adhered to much of the wall surface.

  He filled a plastic spray bottle with warm water and vinegar and sprayed a section of the drywall, then began wiping it off a section he’d sprayed several minutes earlier.

  “How about you do this for a while and let me watch?” he called out to Daisy.

  She thumped her tail in happy acknowledgment, her large dark eyes never straying from him.

  He’d ordered a therapeutic memory-foam dog bed for her online, and she’d dragged it from the bedroom into the living area so she could rest in perfect comfort, while keeping a watchful eye on him throughout the whole process.

  As nonchalant as he’d been at the vet appointment on Monday, he agreed with Chloe.

  Maybe Daisy would love doing what she’d been bred for, but the thought of this sweet dog spending the rest of her life out in the elements, watching a flock of sheep, instead of staying at his side, made him hope that she would never be reclaimed by someone else.

  Chloe.

  He hadn’t seen her since Monday, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about her, either.

  Betty had sent up enough Easter leftovers to last him until tomorrow, so he’d stayed at his cabin ever since coming home from the vet clinic. He’d been working on a long list of the renovations he needed to complete before starting on the next cabin, though at this rate it might take until next Christmas.

  Maybe there’d been a perfectly good reason for Chloe’s reaction to that white car in town, just as she’d said. Maybe she didn’t care much for Lance because he’d teased her when he’d come to the ranch as a teenager. As Devlin recalled, the guy certainly hadn’t been very nice to his siblings, so that was possible.

  Assuming the worst—that she’d wanted to avoid a deputy because she was in trouble of some kind—must have been insulting, to say the least.

  He studied his progress and sighed. One small corner of one wall done, with more than three more walls to go.