by Jaclyn Hardy
“I’m good.” He pulled off his hat and smoothed out his hair. “I heard you’re singing at the celebration. Is that true?”
Rachel pushed down the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“I wish you would.” He tapped a couple of buttons on his computer and turned his attention back to her. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Actually, yes. I need to talk to Patrick.” She nodded toward the cells.
Sheriff Nelson frowned. “What do you want to talk to him for? He’s just a squatter we found inside the old mansion.”
Rachel laughed. “He’s not a squatter. That’s his house.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you even ask him?” Rachel rubbed her forehead. “Tom, that house has been in his family for generations. He has the deed to prove it.”
Tom stood and straightened his shirt. “Squatters’ll say whatever they can to get out of trouble. We figured it was just a story.”
“Yes, but that’s your job. You can’t arrest someone if you have evidence saying he owns the house.” Rachel held out her hand. “Keys.”
He sputtered as he reached for the keys. “No one’s going to get him out except me.”
“Fair enough.” Rachel followed him back to the cell and waited for Tom to open the door.
Patrick stood and stretched. He needed a shave, but the day-old scruff only made him more attractive. “Hey, Rachel. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“No kidding. What were you doing at the house? I thought you were heading to Twin Falls to get a hotel room.”
“I was going to, but then I went back to make sure we locked up before we left. The storm hit just as I pulled in. I wasn’t about to drive in it, so I just slept on the floor. Next thing I know, I’m being arrested for sleeping in my own house.”
“Why didn’t you show them the deed?”
“They wouldn’t let me. Something about how I could have been reaching for a gun instead.”
Rachel glared at Tom. “A gun? Seriously?”
“Now, hold on there. You know we have to be careful about things like that these days.” Tom opened the door wider. “Come on. We’ll get you out of here.”
Patrick left the cell and dropped the newspaper on a nearby table. “Any chance this can stay off my record?”
“Seeing as you didn’t actually do anything, there’s no reason we should fill out paperwork. Let’s get a copy of your deed so it’s on record.” Tom went into an office and came back with a box containing Patrick’s jacket and a few other things.
“I’ll have to bring it later. It’s in my car. You didn’t do anything to my car, did you? It’s a rental.”
“No, sir. It’s still out at the house. I was going to send a tow truck out later today.” Tom printed off a paper. “Now, just sign here and you’re free to go. Need a ride?”
Patrick glanced over at Rachel with his eyebrows raised.
“I can take him. It’s on my way back home anyway.” Rachel pulled out her keys. “Thanks again, sheriff. And next time, get some proof, okay?”
Patrick chuckled as they left the station. “You have him wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?”
“Yep. That’s the joy of being one of the only single ladies in town.” Rachel grinned. “Did you have breakfast?”
“A little. I’ll just grab something later.”
Rachel nodded toward a small diner on the corner. “Come on. My treat. You can’t miss the best pancakes in the state.”
The diner was owned by one of Rachel’s best friends, and it had a retro feel to it. Rachel waved to Evie and went to find a booth.
Rachel took a menu from behind the napkin holder and tapped on one of the pictures. “I suggest the pancake, eggs, and sausage with a mug of hot chocolate. Best thing on the menu, and you won’t have to eat for the rest of the day.”
“Sounds perfect.” Patrick went through the menu before putting it away. “So, what brings you to town?”
“Pie.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Pie?”
Rachel laughed. “Yes, we’re making pie for the market, and we ran out of ingredients.”
“Well, I have to say, I’m lucky you ran out. Otherwise, who knows how long I’d be stuck in jail?”
“Hours, maybe.” Rachel smiled up at the waitress. “Hey, Jamie. I’ll have a hot chocolate and eggs.”
“And you?” It was obvious Jamie found Patrick attractive by the way she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
“I’ll have the special. I hear it’s the best on the menu.” Patrick smiled up at her, a dimple showing in his right cheek. Rachel felt a flare of jealousy that she squashed down. It was just a smile. And it wasn’t like she owned him anyway.
Jamie beamed. “It really is. I’ll get your order right out to you.”
Rachel was grateful when Jamie finally walked away. “So, when are you supposed to head back? You mentioned you had to get things done, but not how quickly.”
“I’ll be here for a few weeks.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “A few weeks? You don’t have to work?”
“My partners pretty much kicked me out the door as soon as I asked for some time off. I had a lot of vacation built up, and they figured I should just use it all at once.”
“Are they always trying to get rid of you like that?”
Patrick laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Truth is, my dad passed away last week, and they figured I could use some time to mourn.”
Rachel set her hand on his to comfort him. “I’m so sorry, Patrick.”
“Thanks. That’s why I was going through his things and found the deed to this house. My mom told me I should check it out, so here I am.”
“Wow.” Rachel glanced out the window at everyone scurrying by with decorations. “So you’re not going to be with your mom for the Fourth? She won’t care?”
Patrick shrugged. “We don’t do much, really. I mean, we go see the fireworks, but otherwise, that’s it. We’re usually too busy with work.”
“That’s . . . sad. Sorry, we just make such a big deal about it here. I’m surprised.”
“Mom used to take me to parades when I was younger. Then I grew up and found other things to do.”
The food came just then. Rachel watched as Patrick took a bite and grinned when he closed his eyes and groaned.
“I told you they were amazing.”
“Fantastic.” Patrick pierced one of his pieces of sausage with a fork and held it out to Rachel. “Want some? You didn’t get any for yourself.”
“Thank you.” Rachel watched as he set it on her plate. She took a bite of her toast and thought back to when she’d come here with Blake. He’d complained about the food and flirted with the waitresses, but Rachel had just brushed it off as a typical guy thing. The more time she spent with Patrick, the more she realized how big of a jerk Blake really was.
Rachel pulled into the driveway of the old house and stared up at it as Patrick opened his door. She thought of getting out so she could tell him her plans, but she needed to get the groceries back to the house.
“Thanks again for the ride. You’ve been a lifesaver over the last few days.” Patrick opened his car door.
“Hey, Patrick? I was just thinking. You only have a few days before you have to head back. Do you just want to stay at the ranch? There’s space in the bunkhouse, and that way, you wouldn’t have to travel as far.” The words were out before Rachel could think. Had she really just invited him to stay at her house?
Patrick studied her face. “You sure about that?”
“Sure. It’s a fifteen-minute drive compared to the hour drive to town. And with your track record, it’s probably better to stick close.”
“You have a point.” Patrick nodded. “If it’s okay with your family, that would be great. I’ll be out there in a few hours. I want to get some cleaning done first.”
“Okay. You remember the
way?” Rachel hesitated again. Maybe she should just stay and help out.
“Just up the road. See you later.” He shut the door, and Rachel pulled away.
She hoped Mama wouldn’t care that she’d invited him. But there was space out in the bunkhouse, and he’d already proven he’d work, if needed. She smiled at the image of him darting out of the chicken pen with the rooster in hot pursuit.
The day was hot by the time she got back to the ranch. She was thankful she would be inside cooking instead of out in the heat. Not that it would be much cooler with the oven going late into the night.
None of her cousins were around when she walked inside, which meant they were off exploring. She’d have to remember to go on the horse ride she’d promised Dallin later that night. Maybe she’d wait until Patrick was back, and she could show him around as well. She knew exactly what route she’d take: up into the mountains where they could look down on Patrick’s property. If he could see the mansion the way she saw it, it was possible that he’d change his mind about his plans for it.
Patrick stretched his back. Dusting the fixtures had taken longer than he expected, and he’d had to sweep the floors yet again because of the dirt and cobwebs that fell from the lights. He grabbed his keys, ready to be done for the day. He double-checked all the windows to make sure they were closed—he’d opened several to air out the house and cool it down—then locked the front door and left.
Patrick climbed into his rental, thankful for the air-conditioning as he drove to the ranch. He wasn’t sure where to park, so he just pulled next to Rachel’s truck. The last time he’d been there, they went through the side door, but this time he went to the front. It was better to give a good impression—which would be easier if he wasn’t covered in dust from cleaning all day.
Rachel opened the door with a smile. She had flour on her cheeks and some in her hair. “Hey. Sorry. I was making pie. I need to get the next batch into the oven, and then I can show you where to take your things.”
“Sounds good.” He followed her inside and back to the kitchen. “Can I help?”
“I’m almost done, but thank you.” She put three pies in the oven and set the timer. “Okay, those are in. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
“That’s a lot of pie.” Patrick grabbed his bags from off the porch.
Rachel laughed. “This is only a fraction of the pies we’ve made. Mama has won awards for her pies.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged. “Mine are good, but I don’t have her touch.”
“I’m sure yours are amazing.” Patrick followed her out to the bunkhouse. He stopped and stared when Rachel opened the door. Several bunkbeds lined the room, with two dressers between each set. Some beds were obviously used, while a few others were bare. The modern fixtures and large screen TV at one end of the bunkhouse was a far cry from what he’d been expecting for a ranch. “Whoa.”
“It’s not much, but we like to make sure our employees have a place to stay. It’ll start filling up in the next few weeks as we get closer to the grain harvest, but for now, we have plenty of space.” Rachel went to a large closet and pulled out some sheets and a blanket. “Here you go. We can put you over here so you have a little more privacy.”
Patrick set his things down and took the sheets from Rachel. “This is great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She checked her watch. “I need to get back inside. You can stay here and rest or come with me.”
“I’ll be right in.” Patrick reached up and brushed the flour off her face, but froze when he realized what he was doing. “Sorry.”
She wiped her face with her hand. “Oh, man. I’m probably a mess. I can’t cook without ending up covered in flour.”
“Oh, speaking of which, where’s the shower? I haven’t had a chance to clean up since yesterday.” He’d changed the night before, but after spending a night in jail and then dusting, he was in dire need of a shower.
“It’s through those doors.” Rachel gestured toward the back. “Towels are in a cupboard in there.”
“Thanks.”
Rachel went to the door and opened it. “If you need anything else, you’ll know where to find me.”
After she left, Patrick went through his bag to find a change of clothes and his soap. The shower was hot and exactly what he needed.
He returned to the house and found Rachel washing dishes. She hummed softly and swayed to whatever song she was singing. Patrick pushed up his sleeves and moved next to her to help.
She jumped. “I didn’t realize you’d come back in. I’m almost done.”
Patrick took a cloth and the dish she was holding. “I can do this if you want. Go rest for a minute.”
Rachel hesitated. “You know, I’d argue, but my feet thank you.”
“I’m sure.” Patrick washed the dish and set it aside. “What was that song you were singing? I don’t recognize it.”
“It’s an old Irish tune my grandpa always sang to me. I didn’t realize I was singing out loud.”
“Well, it was more humming than singing, but it was nice. You have a great voice.”
“Thanks.” Rachel sat at the kitchen table.
Patrick looked over and caught her frown as she leaned back with her eyes closed. He washed the rest of the dishes in silence and then dried his hands. Rachel seemed to be asleep, so he slipped out of the kitchen into the hallway. Pictures lined the walls. Rachel was in most of them, accepting awards or on her horse.
“Oh, there you are. I didn’t mean to drift off.” Rachel stood in the doorway. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and walked over to him.
“You must have needed it.”
A car door slammed, and moments later, a boy came tearing into the house. “Rachel, you’re back. Can we ride a horse now?”
“Sure. Patrick, this is my cousin Dallin.”
“Nice to meet you, Dallin.”
Dallin just stared back.
“Want to come with us?” Rachel asked.
Patrick’s first reaction was to say no. He’d never been near a horse and wasn’t really looking forward to it now. But if it meant spending more time with Rachel . . . . “Sure. You’re going to have to teach me, though.”
Dallin’s eyes grew big. “You’ve never ridden a horse?”
“No. Have you?”
“Of course.” Dallin laughed. “I’ll meet you out there.”
Rachel looked up at Patrick. “If you want to hang out here instead, you can. I don’t want to drag you all over the place.”
“It’s fine. When in Rome, right? I’m on a ranch. I should learn to ride a horse. Besides, it sounds like fun.” Patrick looked down at the slacks and shirt he wore. “Do I need to change?”
Rachel stepped back and rubbed her chin. “You should be fine with what you’re wearing, although if you decide to move to Idaho, you’re going to need to get some new clothes to work outside.”
“You’re probably right.”
They walked out to the barn and met up with Dallin and a couple who had to be his parents. Rachel pulled a saddle off a rack and walked back to where a brown horse stood eating.
“We’ll have you start with Duke. He’s good with new riders.” Rachel set a pad and blanket over the horse’s back and then put the saddle on top of them. “I’ll do this for you the first time, but watch closely so you can do it next time.”
Rachel moved from one cinch to the other, making sure everything was tight and secure, then she patted Duke’s neck. She picked up the reins and handed them to Patrick.
He reached out slowly and jerked back when Duke’s head turned. “Whoa.”
“It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. I’m going to saddle my horse while you get comfortable around Duke. I don’t want to try helping you on until you’re a little less nervous.” Rachel left the stall, and Patrick stared at Duke.
What in the world was he doing here? Thinking he could ride a horse? Patrick let out a breath and reache
d out again to pet Duke. His hair was rough under Patrick’s hand. When Duke didn’t seem to mind him, Patrick took a step closer. He could do this. Surfing wasn’t exactly easy either, and he did that whenever he got the chance.
“Let’s go, Duke.” Patrick led him out of the stall, surprised that Duke actually listened to him. He found Rachel coming out of another stall leading her horse. He could see why she called him Old Blue, with his gray-and-white hair that had the slightest tint of blue.
“Dallin and the rest of his family are out there. Think you can do this?” Rachel smiled up at him.
Patrick laughed. “Ready or not, here we go.”
They met the others in the yard. Patrick watched as they each stepped into a stirrup and threw their other leg over the horse’s back. It was now or never. If it was true that horses could smell fear, he was in big trouble. He stepped into the stirrup and pushed up. His pants were a little tighter than he liked as he tried to get his leg over the saddle and he had step back down. Duke shied away from him as Patrick came back down. He heard a few giggles behind him. One thing was for sure, his pride would be knocked down a few notches by the time he left the ranch. He tried again, and this time he was able to get his leg over the horse. His pants strained, but at least he made it up.
“Yeah, we’re going shopping when we’re done today. That is, if you can walk by then.” Rachel slipped off her horse and ran back into the barn. She returned a minute later with a cowboy hat. “You’re going to want this. Unless you like sunburns.”
“Thank you.” He put it on. While it made him sweat, at least the sun was no longer beating down on him.
They started slow as they went through the field. Patrick was sure he was going to fall off at any moment, but as time went on, he relaxed. They hiked up into the hills behind the ranch. Patrick’s horse didn’t take much coaxing as it followed the others, leaving Patrick the opportunity to look around.
The land was breathtaking. Wheat and corn fields surrounded them, and a breeze gently rocked the trees. Dallin pointed out different flowers as they continued up the path. When they came to the picnic spot, Rachel stopped and slid off her horse.
