“Yes, I do. I already have a lot of plans, for when I have the money and the time.” Kristin led the way up onto the wraparound porch and into the front room. “We’ve just unboxed the living-room things and still need curtains, but it’s starting to feel like home.”
Just minutes ago she and her son, Cody, had shoved their old leather couch and love seat into position, with the couch facing the fieldstone fireplace and the love seat at a right angle to it, flanked by oak end tables. A lacy white afghan over the back of the love seat covered the worst of the scuffs, and a pile of pillows on the couch covered some deep scratches.
Miranda brushed a hand across one of the stained glass lamps on the end tables, admiring the deep jewel tones. “These are so pretty. Family heirlooms?”
Kristin felt herself blush. “A consignment store in Austin, I’m afraid. There weren’t many things to pass down in my family.”
“Lovely all the same.” Miranda nodded in approval. “It’s great finding treasures like these and being able to save money while you’re at it.”
She moved over to a wall and peered at the thermostat. “Have you checked the heating system? The water and appliances? We sent a handyman out here to look at everything before you arrived this week, but I always want to make sure.”
“Perfect, far as I can tell.” Kristin bit her lip. “I owe you all so much. I never thought I’d be able to afford a place of my own. Not like this one…and especially not in my hometown.”
“Life comes full circle, doesn’t it?” Miranda smiled kindly. “The town is delighted to welcome young families to the area. The homesteading program is a two-way street, really. We offer people a chance for new beginnings. In turn, we bring in new life for our community and our schools. With your medical skills you’ll be a great asset here.”
“Can I offer you tea? Coffee? A soda?”
Kristin moved toward the kitchen, but Miranda shook her head. “I have to be going, but don’t forget those cookies.” She winked. “Best on the planet.”
“Thanks so much. I know we’ll love them.”
“If you catch her at a good moment, my mom might even share her secret recipe.” Miranda chuckled. “Is there anything you need before I go—any questions?”
“Not right now, I guess. The contract is pretty straightforward.” Kristin hesitated. “I love this isolated setting. The view is incredible, and the peace and quiet is wonderful. Neighbors would be fine, too, though. Will there be any more people coming out this way?”
“Eventually. We’ve got around twenty-five thousand acres to work with, but we don’t want to rush. Finding the right people is more important to us than just giving it all away.” She tapped a fingertip against her lips and thought for a moment. “You and your son are the third family to arrive, but we’ll have more arriving nearly every month for a while. Most of the parcels in this area are between twenty and a hundred acres. You share a property line with a remote part of a privately owned ranch, though, so that will help you maintain your privacy.”
Kristin grinned. “That’s perfect. I promise, I’ll meet every stipulation to the letter.”
“I’m not sure if you knew, but this place was called Cedar Grove Farm. The man who lived here before raised goats, had a few horses and did a little truck farming—vegetables and peaches, mostly.”
From the doorway leading to one of the main-floor bedrooms, Kristin caught a flash of movement. “Cody?”
He dutifully came back around the corner, all gangly nine-year-old shyness, the blush on his fair cheeks nearly matching his bright auburn hair. He held one hand behind his back.
Something to check on as soon as Miranda leaves. “This is Miranda Wright. She’s the mayor, and she heads up the committee that brought us here. Can you tell her thanks?”
He ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with either of them, mumbled something that might have been a thank-you, then raced around the corner.
“I’m sorry, he’s usually much—”
“No problem.” Miranda waved away the apology as she started out the door. “I’m sure this move has worn him out, and most little guys are shy with strangers, anyway. We’ll meet again soon.”
Kristin leaned a shoulder against the door frame and watched Miranda stride to her truck and drive away, feeling suddenly melancholy.
“New beginnings,” she said softly to herself. “Something I’ve needed for a long, long time.”
Though those new beginnings weren’t going to be entirely smooth. Cody had been acting out a lot more over the past few weeks. And her bank balance was close to zero.
On top of that, some people in town who’d started to welcome her, had stopped when she’d introduced herself. It was as if they’d recognized her, and their smiles had faded.
She’d been just a child when she and her mother had fled this town over twenty years ago, but her father had stayed…and obviously there were still people who remembered the Cantrell name.
And that, she realized with a heavy heart, could make living here more difficult than she’d imagined.
CODY GLARED at the TV in the corner of the living room, wishing he could throw the whole thing out the window.
There were a million places they could’ve moved to, but Mom had chosen this one—an old house surrounded by high, rocky hills in the middle of nowhere. A place where exactly one channel came in clearly, without a satellite dish, but only if a guy stood with a hand on the top of the TV and thumped it now and then.
What did kids do around here? No sidewalks. No playgrounds, unless you drove all the way into town, and that was a good ten miles. No neighbors with kids and dogs and tree houses. The only good thing about moving was that he’d gotten out of Mrs. Morgan’s class back in Austin. She’d been mean. Always blaming him for the whispering at the back of the class, or for the spitballs thrown at the kids in the front row. He’d had a time-out almost every day, and that totally stank.
At least his new teacher seemed nice. She smiled a lot, and came over to ask him if he needed help, because she said he’d have to catch up to everyone else. She smelled pretty good, too…not like Morgan, who must’ve taken a bath in perfume every morning and had breath worse than Ben’s old dog next door.
Cody listened to the thumping and scraping coming from upstairs, where Mom was unpacking more boxes and pushing furniture around, then he went out onto the porch and leaned over to brace his elbows on the railing. Dropping his chin into his hands, he stared out at the hills that seemed to roll on forever, clear over to where the sun was starting to drop lower in the sky.
There were supposed to be big snakes out here. Big, big rattlesnakes, and coyotes and even armadillos—like the ones in his favorite Jan Brett storybook. Maybe there was even a mama armadillo parading through the low cedar bushes and sagebrush right now, followed by a train of little armadillos.
Dad called armadillos “speed bumps” because you always saw them flattened along the Texas highways, but the possibility of seeing a live one sent Cody off the porch in two big leaps.
With a last glance over his shoulder at the house, he hopped over the low stone wall and jogged past Mom’s pickup, stopping to survey the possibilities. Where, exactly, did armadillos like to go?
To the right of the house he could see the tops of a big stand of trees growing past the next hill. They were probably those huge, shady old live oaks that Mom was always admiring, because she said they could be hundreds of years old.
Surely, with a hot sun overhead all day—even though it was almost the beginning of September—an armadillo would like a shady place to rest.
Grinning, he broke into a run.
NOT AGAIN. Kristin frantically raced through the house one more time, checking the closet and even beneath the beds.
Since the divorce, Cody had been unpredictable—clinging one minute, rebellious the next. He sometimes hid from her when he was upset, apparently finding some sort of satisfaction in crying quietly by himself and ignoring her pleas to come
out.
But this time, she sensed the emptiness of the house. Where could he have gone? The western sky was deepening from lavender into purple and indigo. The sun had set. And already, the chilly night air was settling in.
“Cody!” she called out, searching around the yard for any sign of him. In exasperation, she widened her search to include the old, empty barn and the small, one-car garage too narrow for her modern vehicle.
The lane leading out to the highway was empty, the powdery caliche limestone revealing only tire tracks. But Cody could’ve skirted the lane and gone across country on some adventure without regard for the temperature, approach of nightfall or the fact that he had absolutely no knowledge of the area.
And just within the boundaries of her own twenty acres, he could so easily be lost. Running, now, she shouted his name as she searched farther and farther from the house.
Only a distant owl returned her calls.
Her heart pounding, she slowly turned in a full circle, watching for any sort of movement.
Nothing.
With a cry of frustration, she ran back to the house to grab her cell phone and call for help. Did 911 even work out here? Surely there’d be local police, or a county sheriff, and maybe even a dog that tracked.
She lunged up the steps and breathlessly pawed through the packing materials on the kitchen counter until her fingers curled around the familiar shape of her cell phone.
She flipped it open to punch in the numbers, then stared in disbelief at the faint message blinking on the screen.
Low battery.
Her hand at her throat, she slumped against the counter, her lungs raw from the exertion. Then she hunted through the clutter again until she found her truck keys.
At a sharp knock at the door she froze. She was a woman alone in an unfamiliar, isolated place…though that barely registered.
I don’t have time for this! I’ve got to find my son.
She took a deep ragged breath, gripped her keys in one hand and hurried to the front window.
A big gray horse stood placidly in her yard, tied to the gate. A horse?
The front door opened with a crash, and Cody’s excited voice echoed through the house like a gift direct from God.
“Mom! Mom! I got a ride on a horse! And it was huge, and beautiful and the cowboy said I could ride again if you say it’s okay. Mom!”
Overwhelmed with relief, she turned away from the window, still gripping the curtain for support.
Cody barreled into her just as she caught sight of a tall stranger inside her front door, silhouetted against the lamplight of the living room. “I…I…” She closed her eyes and wrapped Cody in a tight hug until he wiggled free, then took a steadying breath and looked up to the door. “W-who are you?”
The man stepped into a pool of light, and she found herself staring into Ryan Gallagher’s eyes.
“How easily you seem to forget,” he said coolly. “At least you’re consistent.”
Cody anxiously tugged at her sleeve. “Please, Mom. He says I can have another ride. Please? You said we’d get horses when we moved, and this one is beautiful. Please, Mom!”
Kristin stared down at him, then shifted her attention back to Ryan. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”
“You city folks might let your kids run, but you can’t do that here. Not with a child who doesn’t know the area or how to get back home.” His tone was excessively patient, as if he was trying to explain something to a person with limited mental capacity. “Your boy was over a half mile into the Four Aces.”
“I’ve been searching for him everywhere. I just came inside to call for help.”
Ryan glanced at the TV, which was on and inexplicably now coming in clear as a bell. He raised a brow as he turned back to her, clearly imagining that she’d simply been sitting in here watching reruns. “If I hadn’t been riding this evening, Cody might’ve kept going in the wrong direction, in a remote pasture that holds several hundred unpredictable mother cows and calves. He could’ve been trampled, or developed hypothermia by later tonight.”
Kristin shuddered. “He is never to leave this property. He knows that.”
“We’ve also got hunting leases on that land. A careless hunter might see a sudden movement and shoot before thinking.” Ryan glanced down at the boy and paused. “Keep him home, and make sure you know where he is.”
His obvious assumption of negligence rankled for a split second, but he was right. She shouldn’t have let Cody out of her sight, and she could only feel gratitude and heartfelt relief that Ryan had come to his rescue.
“I can’t thank you enough for bringing Cody back,” she said quietly. “If there’s ever any way I can repay you—”
“Please, Mom,” Cody begged. “Can I ride again?”
Kristin gently took his beloved face in her hands. “The answer is no. Absolutely no. You ran off, and you never said a word. You left the yard, which is against the rules, and this nice man had to interrupt his evening to bring you back.”
She straightened and pointed to the stairs. “One hour, time-out. Now.”
His eyes filled with sudden tears, but he slowly trudged away, his head bowed, looking for all the world like someone headed for death row.
“I’m really sorry for all your trouble,” Kristin said, turning back to Ryan. “I promise—”
But he was already gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MOMENT KRISTIN opened the door of her aunt RaeJean’s beauty salon, she knew it was a mistake to stop by on a busy Saturday morning…especially with Cody in tow.
“Oh, my!” RaeJean Barker exclaimed, tossing aside her comb and brush. “Aren’t you just as cute as a sack full o’ puppies today?”
Cody cringed against Kristin’s side and tried to wiggle away, but RaeJean was faster.
She barreled up to him, gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze, then tapped under his chin with one crimson-tipped fingernail. “And aren’t them just the prettiest eyes? Just like your momma’s.” She winked at him as she pulled a shiny fifty-cent piece out of the pocket of her pink uniform jacket. Flipping it high in the air, she caught it and offered it on her outstretched palm. “You look like a cowboy in need of a Coke.”
He stared up at her, his mouth open, and Kristin prayed he wouldn’t comment on RaeJean’s flame-red curls or turquoise eye shadow. She was, undoubtedly, the most colorful person he’d ever seen.
“Can you say thanks?” Kristin prodded.
He mumbled something and dropped his gaze to his Nike runners, his ears pink.
RaeJean beamed her approval as she hiked a thumb toward the back of the salon. “Minifridge is back there. Or you can go to the vending machine next door, right in front of the saddle shop. They got more flavors, but it’s not near as cold.”
Cody nodded shyly, then shuffled across the room as if he were crossing enemy territory. No wonder.
Nothing much had changed here since Kristin’s childhood. Fluffy pink curtains hung at the windows, pink flamingo wallpaper still covered the walls. Ornate, gold-framed mirrors topped the two cluttered workstations, matching the heavy gold wall sconces and frames on the pictures of outdated hairstyles.
The explosion of baroque decorations and bawdy femininity, coupled with the sharp scents of bleach and perm chemicals, nearly took Kristin’s own breath away.
She glanced over the row of women settled under the six dryers at the back of the room, who were watching them with avid interest. Women who, when they walked out the door, would be wearing identical, tightly curled helmets reminiscent of the 1960s. Whatever the request, Rae-Jean always proceeded to do exactly what she thought best, and that was the one style she did for “women of a certain age.”
Which explained, unfortunately, the number of do-it-yourself haircuts in town and the exodus of the well-to-do to the upscale shops in San Antonio.
“Um…maybe Cody and I should stop back later. I thought you’d be closing about now.”
�
�Uh-uh. Had a full schedule this morning and Carlita didn’t show up—morning sickness, she says.” RaeJean lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “I figure she decided to sleep late and go off for the day with that fool husband of hers. Ain’t two ways about it, that girl is on her last chance at the Snip and Curl.”
“I think,” Kristin murmured, hiding a smile at the reverent tone RaeJean always used for the name of her shop, “that you were saying the same thing when I was in town for my daddy’s funeral going on two years ago.”
Her hands on her ample hips, RaeJean snorted. “Meant it then, and I mean it now.” Behind her, a timer buzzed, but she waved away the sound as if it were an annoying fly and fixed a stern eye on Kristin’s shoulder-length hair. “Now, what can I do for you? You need a cut? Some style?” She reached out and ran a hand through Kristin’s silky, straight strands that had defied a lifetime of effort to add curls, waves and even the tidiness of a smooth chignon. “A good perm and some color would brighten you right up. Need something more lively than just strawberry blond, I think.”
Cody’s eyes widened with obvious fascination as he came back in with a Coke and glanced between RaeJean’s bouffant, Technicolor Big Texas Hair, and Kristin’s own simple style.
“Um…not today. You’re really busy, and I need to run.” When RaeJean’s appraisal didn’t waiver, Kristin took a step back. “And I’m just a wash-and-wear sort of girl. Really.”
RaeJean cocked her head. “Was there something else? You need help out at that place of yours?” Her face brightened. “I’d be happy to give you some decorating advice. Curtains—wallpaper—you name it.”
Cody sidled next to Kristin and tugged anxiously on the back of her shirt, undoubtedly envisioning flamingos and ruffles at their rustic place in the country.
“I think we’re set on that score, but thanks for the offer.” Behind her, a silver bell tinkled over the door and someone stepped inside. Over her aunt’s shoulder, Kristin saw one of the customers impatiently drumming her fingernails on the arm of her dryer chair. “I do need to talk to you, though. I’ve tried and tried to reach Aunt Nora, but she doesn’t answer her phone, and I’m just afraid…” She glanced down at Cody. “Well, I just need to talk to her before she does anything…big.”
A Home in Hill Country (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 3
