by Hebby Roman
“You agreed, Mallory. You can’t back out now. And I’ve got another request. Ride with me over to the Pendleton Ranch.”
She grabbed a napkin from the basket her mom kept on the table and wiped her fingers. “Why?”
“I need to ride the fence line and see what kind of shape it’s in.”
“That’s trespassing.” Although, technically, she was now the owner, so it wasn’t. Still, the will would remain in probate for a while, so she’d likely not take ownership until January or February.
“Not if we stay on my side of the fence. The Triple C borders her property.”
“Why do I have to go?”
He shrugged. “Just trying to be hospitable.”
For the briefest second, she almost told him about the will, but she couldn’t think of one reason to confide in him.
“Yeah, okay,” she agreed. She should see the land that she now owned. The thought gave her a secret thrill.
“We trespassed when we were kids and didn’t get in trouble then.” He sat back, having finished his breakfast in record time.
His relaxed posture reminded her of those nights she’d spent tutoring him at this very table. She’d genuinely enjoyed being with him. His problem had never been his intellect but rather his focus, and she’d razzed him about it more than once.
“That didn’t make it right,” she said. “I’m a lawyer now. I can’t willingly break the law.”
“C’mon. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Buried under piles of papers at work,” she replied. But suddenly she was sick of her attitude. Carrigan was turning her into a sour puss, and in the end, that’s not how she wanted to be.
It was true that ever since she had seen him she’d had to contend with the familiar jolt that ignited every cell in her body. Side by side with that was the oppressive memory of his indifference toward her at the end of their friendship. But was that his fault? He couldn’t help it if he didn’t like her. He just liked her, in a nonspecific and friendly way. That was all. And he was trying to be nice now, trying to be her friend again. She needed to grow up and get over her school girl crush.
She popped the last of her toast in her mouth. “Fine. I’ll just let my mom know that I’m heading out to commit a Class 3 Misdemeanor, so she’s not surprised when the cops show up at her door.” She stood. “Get the horses ready and I’ll be right out.”
His voice trailed after her as she headed to the stairs. “If we go to jail, I’ll expect you to be my attorney.”
* * *
As Skye rode beside Carrigan, her horse, Sarge, seemed rather playful with Joe’s mount, a sorrel named Mr. Sunshine.
Since riding from The Quarter-Circle was too far with so much snow on the ground, Joe had decided they should load Sarge onto a horse trailer and bring him to the Triple C. When they arrived, Mrs. Carrigan had greeted her with a cup of coffee and a warm hug. While Joe got his and Skye’s horses ready for riding, Skye spent twenty minutes reminiscing with Annie Carrigan.
“Your mom hasn’t changed,” Skye said, pulling her cowboy hat lower against a gust of wind.
“Thanks for visiting with her. I think she really enjoyed seeing you.”
Joe twisted in the saddle and whistled. His two border collies, Ruby and Daisy, bounded through the snow.
Skye laughed. The crisp winter air combined with the powder blue sky put her into a festive mood. Soon there would be Christmas presents to open, church service to attend, and eggnog delights while watching “It’s A Wonderful Life.” She started singing “Jingle Bells” under her breath.
Two fluffy black-and-white tails swayed ahead of them as the dogs broke trail through the deep powder.
“Those two have so much energy,” she remarked.
“Luckily they sleep as well as they play. They’ll be passed out by seven p.m.”
Skye indulged herself watching Joe from the corner of her eye. He was a cowboy right out of a romance novel—broad shoulders and a chiseled face beneath the shadow of his black Stetson. His gloved hand held the reins with a casual demeanor, and he moved with Mr. Sunshine as one unit. Taken from a purely aesthetic view, he was simply beautiful to watch.
“They take after you, then,” she said.
“You think I’m in bed by seven p.m.?” White puffs of air came from his mouth as he spoke.
She allowed herself to smile. “No, I was referring to the playing hard part. Whatever happened to Penny Winston?”
“Beats me. I lost touch with everyone when I left.”
“True radio-silence, huh? I guess I shouldn’t be upset that you seemed to drop off the planet when your family moved north.” She was proud there was no hint of the hurt in her voice. “You sure did leave a string of broken hearts behind,” she added, letting Sarge pick his own path through the snowy field, since the terrain had become rocky and uneven.
“I think you’re overestimating me. I was never serious about any of those girls.”
Off to her right in the distance was the highway.
“We must be near The Peppermint Tree,” she said, scanning the tree line beyond for a tall Ponderosa Pine bowed over at the top. When she caught sight of it, she frowned. “Why is your fence on the other side of it?”
“Because it belongs to me.”
“What?”
He rode ahead, shutting down further conversation.
Mrs. Pendleton didn’t own The Peppermint Tree? That was strange, because the old lady had loved that tree for some reason, having her ranch hands decorate it every Christmas. She halted Sarge nearby, dismounted, and walked toward the locally famous tree. But there were no decorations adorning the branches. This was likely the first Christmas in decades that it wasn’t wearing its festive décor.
There had been times when snow would cling to its trunk in a pattern of stripes, as if there were heated coils insides, slanting in such a way as to look like a peppermint stick.
Stopping beside Joe, she removed her hat and craned her neck to look upward.
“Did you buy it?” she asked. “I can’t imagine Mrs. Pendleton ever selling it.”
He shook his head. “Nah. When I was in the process of purchasing the Triple C, a new survey was taken. The last one had been over a hundred years ago and true north had changed, thereby changing the property lines. The Peppermint Tree became mine.”
“Huh. Mrs. Pendleton must’ve been crushed.”
He sighed and adjusted his hat. “I’d describe it more as spitting mad. I think in her advanced years she’d lost her grip on reality.”
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that. She was so nice when we were kids. Do you mind me asking why you just didn’t give it back to her?”
“Yeah, you’re thinking I was being unreasonable to a senile little old lady.”
She raised her eyebrows in response.
“The property line changed at about a thirty-degree angle,” he said, “which sliced off this front corner, giving me The Peppermint Tree. But in the back, it cut right through Triple C land where the La Plata Springs was located.”
“She got the water?”
He nodded. “I didn’t really think I’d need it. There are other water sources on the property, but as it turns out, none this far west. And I was unable to tap into the water table anywhere around here. So, in the end, I really wanted access to that spring. I asked her for an easement, and in exchange I offered her full access to the tree.”
“But she said no?”
“She did. Then she slapped me with a lawsuit, fighting for both the spring and the tree.” He glanced around. “I’m not unreasonable, but she backed me into a corner. And then she died. So now I’m hoping to negotiate with the new owner, whoever that may be. You were close with her once. As near as I can tell, she had no children or immediate family. Would you have any idea who she left the property to?”
Yes. Me.
But the lawyer in Skye held back divulging this informat
ion. Until she could meet with Mrs. Pendleton’s attorney and assess the legal aspects of the situation, it was imprudent to discuss this with someone with whom she was likely to soon be engaged in litigation. And maybe Mrs. Pendleton had a good reason to hold onto the spring.
She offered a shrug as her answer and sought to change the subject. “According to my mom, she and my dad shared their first kiss here when they were young and newly in love. And you and I met here.”
“We did?”
“Well, we didn’t meet exactly. I was eight. Ollie was supposed to watch out for me, so naturally he went prowling in the woods, and I was forced to follow. Actually, I didn’t mind. I could’ve tattled and gotten him into trouble, but he let me tag along so I learned quickly to keep my mouth shut. I wanted to participate in his adventures. We’d heard so much about The Peppermint Tree and were naturally curious about it. When we got here, you were with three other boys.”
“Now I remember,” he said. “But who were the boys?”
“Stewie March, Henry Bennett, and Luke Greer.”
“How do you remember that?”
She smirked. “I’m blessed with a knack for remembering useless minutiae, but it comes in handy at my job. Those three boys started giving Ollie a hard time. I was shocked because I’d never seen my brother in an underdog position. He generally bossed me around any chance he got. I was a little afraid, so I hid.” She nodded toward the thick trunk. “The Peppermint Tree offered me a good hiding place. But you stepped in and protected Ollie. After that, you two started hanging out together. I remember thinking at the time that you were a very fair person, and it was my first inkling that I wanted to study law, to help the underdog. Aside from my dad, you were always the best boy I knew.”
When she caught him staring at her, it was clear she’d spilled too much. Dang it.
She started walking around The Peppermint Tree, avoiding his gaze.
“I was like every other boy growing up,” he said. “Sometimes good, sometimes bad.”
“And sometimes ugly?” she teased, disappearing behind the trunk. The Peppermint Tree had a wide girth, wider than what was normal for a pine tree.
She popped around the side suddenly. “Boo!”
Carrigan jumped. “What the hell.”
“Did you think I’d disappeared?” She grinned. “I used to do this to Ollie. One time, I convinced him that I’d gone to a secret place. I really had him going that this tree is steeped in magic.”
Carrigan’s gaze was on her again, watching, scrutinizing, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
No. No way was she falling for this again.
Stepping back, she broke eye contact. “We should get back to the horses.”
Then she fled.
Chapter Five
Skye put the finishing touches on her roast beef sandwich, adding sliced tomato, lettuce, onions, and Muenster cheese. She slathered mustard onto the bread and placed it atop the masterpiece, then cut it in two with a large butcher knife.
The front door opened and shut with a slam, and Ollie entered the kitchen, bundled into his work coat and still wearing his cowboy hat. He went straight to the fridge and started drinking directly from the milk jug.
Skye carried her plate and a glass of ice tea to the table, and said, “Does Mom know you break every house rule you can?”
He walked over to the table. Skye had just set the plate down when he snatched half her sandwich.
“Hey! That’s mine!” She tried to grab it back, but he took a big bite then held it away from her. “And your boots are still on,” she added. “I’m so telling on you.”
He kicked the chair out and sat. “What are you? Twelve?”
Skye grunted, grabbed a chip bag, and dropped into her seat. She spread a nice pile of salty potato chips onto her plate to make up for the missing part of her sandwich.
Her morning escapade with Carrigan had left her hungry, in more ways than one, but she was determined to be a grownup about it.
Beyond the kitchen window, the world had taken on a somber hue with overcast skies and the start of more snow falling. It was going to be difficult to get into town and find a dress. She bit into her sandwich and let her shoulders slump with a sigh.
“Why are you so glum?” Ollie asked.
“Do you think I’d look good in Mom’s wedding dress?”
He shrugged, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “How should I know?”
How had Ollie already finished his half of her sandwich?
“Haven’t you ever seen a photo of Mom and Dad on their wedding day?” she asked.
He shook his head as he chugged more milk.
“It’s hanging on the wall in the hallway,” she said, her voice rising in exasperation with each enunciated word.
“I never noticed.” He offered the jug to her.
She curled her lip in protest. “Gross.”
Suspicion overtook his gaze. “Are you getting married?”
“No. I need a dress for the Mistletoe Ball.”
“You’re going?”
“Yeah, with Carrigan.”
Ollie knocked his hat up an inch and stared at her, his silence all but crackling between them.
Skye frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His gaze softened. “I don’t profess to know anything about anything when it comes to your love life, but you sure moped around when Joe moved away years ago. Maybe you should steer clear of him.”
Ollie’s admission surprised her. She hadn’t realized anyone had noticed, least of all her brother.
“Thanks for your concern,” she said, “but this isn’t a real date. We’re just going as friends.”
He considered her explanation for a second, then said, “That’ll make Celeste happy, at least.”
“It will?”
“She’s kinda been trying to fix Carrigan up with her friend Tina.”
I knew it.
Skye drowned her sorrows by jamming a chip in her mouth. To shift the focus to a different topic, she asked, “When did you and Celeste start dating?”
“We’re talking about your love life, not mine.”
“So? She’s my best friend and you’re my brother. I have a right to know.”
He stood and carried the milk to the fridge. “I’m not talking about this. But you should call Celeste.”
“To ask her about you?”
He shook his head. “No. To tell her that you and Carrigan are just friends.”
Right. Because everyone should know about her non-romantic status with the man of her dreams, especially her oldest and dearest friend.
Ollie walked out of the kitchen, the front door opening and closing as he departed the house.
* * *
Skye held her cellphone to her ear. “Do you have a dress I can wear?”
Celeste answered with her own question. “Are you and Carrigan a thing?”
“No, of course not. Why do you ask?” Skye sat on her bed in her old upstairs room and looked out the window, watching the horses in the corral as they munched on hay.
“Because he just called me and said he was taking you tonight as his date,” Celeste said, her tone strained.
“I’m not his date. We’re just friends. He’s just being nice by taking me.”
“Really?” Celeste’s mood brightened. “Because I’ve been working the Tina angle for over a week now.”
“No worries, I’ve got no claim on Carrigan,” Skye said, trying to sound like she really meant it, but her belly did a full-on somersault in revolt.
Celeste sighed loudly, clearly relieved. “Okay, good. I’m glad to hear it. As for a dress, I doubt I can help you. You’re bustier than I am.”
“Is that shop on Main still open?” Skye scratched her head a little too vigorously, dislodging the messy bun that was holding her hair at bay.
“I know the one you mean. Hang on. Let me call them.”
“It’s closed because of weather,” she said. “Maybe the Ball will be canceled too?”
“It’s possible,” Skye conceded. That would keep her from being seen in public wearing her mother’s wedding dress, while arriving on the arm of Carrigan only to hand him off to Tina.
Man, how did her life manage to suck so much?
“You didn’t bring anything from Denver to wear?” Celeste asked.
“It didn’t cross my mind that I’d need a cocktail dress.”
“Why did you come early for the holidays?”
Skye needed to tell someone, so she decided to come clean. “Mrs. Pendleton’s attorney sent me a copy of her will.”
“Why?”
“Because she left me something.”
“Oh my gosh,” Celeste squealed. “Did she leave you her doll collection?”
Celeste’s response took Skye aback. She had no idea that her friend was so passionate about the display Mrs. Pendleton had kept in a glass case in her living room.
“No.” Skye dragged the word out. If the collection came with the property, she made an impulsive decision to give it to Celeste. “She left me her ranch.”
Several seconds of silence on the other end, then Celeste said, “The whole thing?”
“Yep.”
“What? Wow! Why would she do that?”
Skye switched her phone to her other ear. “I really don’t know. But I have a meeting with the attorney on Monday. That’s why I came home at the last minute.”
“What are you going to do? Sell it?”
“I don’t know. But don’t tell anyone for now. Okay?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“And speaking of secrets, when were you gonna tell me about you and Ollie?”
Celeste gave a nervous laugh. “Please don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure in the beginning how it was going to go, and I didn’t want to jinx it by talking about it. Believe me, if I thought you could help me with your bullheaded sibling, I would’ve let you know, but you’re more of a liability than an asset in this particular love connection.”
