Kitabı oku: «A Rancher To Trust»
Searching for forgiveness...and a future.
Suddenly a husband...and a father?
This bachelor is ready to claim his instant family.
After learning his ex-wife isn’t so ex after all, rebel turned rancher Dan Whitlock is determined to prove he’s a changed man…but Bailey Quinn is just as set on finally ending their marriage. When tragedy makes Dan the guardian of little orphaned twins, he and Bailey are drawn back together. But can she forgive the past and open her heart to the family she’s always wanted?
LAUREL BLOUNT lives on a small farm in Middle Georgia with her husband, David, their four children, a milk cow, dairy goats, assorted chickens, an enormous dog, three spoiled cats and one extremely bossy goose with boundary issues. She divides her time between farm chores, homeschooling and writing, and she’s happiest with a cup of steaming tea at her elbow and a good book in her hand.
Also By Laurel Blount
A Family for the Farmer
A Baby for the Minister
Hometown Hope
A Rancher to Trust
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
A Rancher to Trust
Laurel Blount

www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-0-008-90075-5
A RANCHER TO TRUST
© 2019 Laurel Blount
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Text to speech
“I should have called. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, Dan.” One corner of Bailey’s mouth tipped up in a smile. “At least you came back this time.”
He drew in a slow breath. “I did. But I’ve brought along a good many responsibilities that I didn’t have when we talked before.”
Bailey’s gaze drifted back to the slumbering baby in her arms. “You sure have. And they’re beautiful, Dan. Just beautiful.”
True, but the twins were only part of what he’d been talking about—and honestly, not the part that worried him, at least not where Bailey was concerned. He’d known Bailey wouldn’t blink about taking on a pair of orphaned twins. She was that kind of woman—the best kind, strong and sure and good.
“Everything’s different now except for one thing. I still care about you, Bailey. I still want to see if we can work things out.” He paused. “You say you were going to sign these papers because you thought that’s what I wanted. It isn’t, not by a long shot. But the question is, what do you want?”
Dear Reader,
Hi! I want to thank you for taking this trip back to Pine Valley, Georgia, with me. How I have loved each visit to this sweet small town!
This particular story has been in the back of my mind ever since Bailey Quinn strolled into the barn in my first-ever Love Inspired novel A Family for the Farmer. I knew right away that a woman as feisty and full of personality as Bailey Quinn deserved her very own happily ever after! And who better to bring that to pass than Dan Whitlock, Abel Whitlock’s prodigal brother—and Bailey’s biggest secret? But of course, secrets and small towns just don’t mix. And to make things even more complicated—while Bailey and Dan struggle to make sense of their crazy situation, Dan finds himself entrusted with a set of infant twins. What results is a story about faith and forgiveness, first loves and long-overdue second chances. I hope you enjoy it!
I’m always busy writing so hopefully we’ll be taking another trip together soon! In the meantime, don’t be a stranger! You can find me at my website, laurelblountbooks.com—and while you’re there don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter! I send one out every month, full of news, recipes and giveaways! You can also drop me an email at laurelblountwrites@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you!
Warmest wishes,
Laurel Blount
Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.
—2 Corinthians 5:17
For Leigh M. Hall, my wild and crazy sister—and my first and truest friend.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Introduction
Dear Reader
Bible Verse
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Extract
About the Publisher
Chapter One
As Dan Whitlock pulled his pickup to a stop in the middle of the quiet Oklahoma cemetery, his cell phone buzzed against his chest for the third time. He fished it out of his shirt pocket and checked the screen. Sure enough, he had two missed calls and a text from rancher Colton McAllister.
Call me.
Dan looked out the truck window at the snowy cemetery and weighed his options. He’d planned to get this private errand over and done with before he touched base with Colt, but the new boss of the Bar M Ranch wasn’t known for his patience. Might as well go ahead and call him back. Then maybe Dan could tend to his personal business in peace.
Colt answered the phone on the first ring. “About time.”
“I was driving. Sorry, Colt, but my advice is pass on these heifers. They look a lot better on paper than they do in person. I know how bad you want to get in on the Shadow Lady bloodline, but trust me, these aren’t your girls.”
Colt made an irritated noise. “I should have figured as much. Price was too good. I’ll start looking in a higher dollar range and see what I can find.”
The Bar M didn’t have that kind of money to play around with right now. Dan started to argue but thought better of it.
Not my call, he reminded himself, not anymore. As the elderly Gordon McAllister’s foreman, Dan had overseen the day-to-day ranch operations. But now that Colt’s grandfather had passed on, Colt had shifted from being Dan’s friend to being Dan’s boss. The younger McAllister preferred to handle things on his own.
“Anyway,” Colt said, “I appreciate you taking a look. You about ready to head home?”
Dan’s gaze drifted back to the scattered gravestones, sparkling icily in the brittle January sunlight. “Yeah, shortly. I have something I need to do first.”
“No rush on this end. Take your time.”
Dan could barely hear his friend’s muffled words over the whistle of the Wyoming wind and the sound of cattle lowing. Colt probably had his phone clenched between his chin and his shoulder, which meant his hands were busy with something else.
“You out choring? I thought you were supposed to be helping Angie take care of those new twins of yours.”
“I’m fixing that section of fence in the south pasture. I was going stir-crazy in the house, so Angie finally shooed me outside. Oh yeah. She said you had a phone call yesterday.”
“Who from?”
“Some girl, Angie said. She wanted to talk to you, wouldn’t say why. Angie thought it might be something important, though, because the number came up Pine Valley, Georgia. Isn’t that your hometown?”
Dan tightened his grip on the phone. “This girl. She give Angie a name?”
“Yeah. Bailey somebody, I think it was.”
Bailey. Dan’s skin prickled in a way that had nothing to do with the sharp air finding its way into the truck cab. “Bailey Quinn?”
“That sounds right.” Something in his tone must have alerted Colt, because his friend added, “You sound like you just took a punch in the gut. Who’s this Bailey girl to you?”
Dan didn’t answer. He stared through the fogged windshield at a nearby tombstone, darkened with age, the name barely visible.
Who was Bailey to him?
At one point in his life—everything.
Now? She was a memory so full of regret that the pain could reach across more than a decade of time and stop his heart cold. And she definitely wasn’t somebody he wanted to talk about. Not with Colt.
Not with anyone.
After a second or two of silence, Colt went on, “Angie told her you weren’t here, and she left a number. Said she needed to talk to you, please, as soon as possible. Nice-sounding girl, Angie said.”
“Text me the number.” He tried not to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “Did Bailey say anything else?”
“Not that Angie mentioned. Is this girl one of your folks, Dan? Because if you want to go back to Georgia and see about her, you go ahead. You’re not needed here, so there’s no reason for you to hurry back.”
“Well, that’s never a good thing to hear from an employer.”
Colt made a frustrated noise. “You know what I mean. And you also know I don’t think of you as an employee. You’re family to me and Angie, just like you were to Grandpa. Maybe your last name isn’t McAllister, but you’re one of us, just the same.”
You’re one of us. High praise from one of the most clannish families in all of Wyoming. “You going mushy on me, Colt?”
“If I am, it’s not my fault. It’s the twins. Nobody’s sleeping around here, and there’s way too much crying.”
“They’re cute little stinkers, though.” That was an understatement. Dan’s honorary niece and nephew were so adorable they could make any man hungry to have a couple kids of his own.
“Yeah, they’re cute, all right. That’s how they suck you in. Trust me, Dan. This parenting-twins stuff is harder than ranching any day. No wonder I’m going soft. It’s enough to send any man around the bend. I’ll get Angie to text you that number. And listen, if you’ve got some kind of trouble brewing back home, you head there without a second thought, okay? We can manage until you get back.”
“Thanks, Colt.” Dan disconnected the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. He sat in the chilling truck cab, thinking hard.
So after all these years, Bailey Quinn had called him.
Her face came into his mind as clearly as if he’d seen her yesterday. Eyes such a rich, dark shade of brown that you could only make out her pupils if you were close enough to kiss her. He recalled the soft curve of her cheek and the sassy way she’d tilt her head when she was teasing you—which, Bailey being Bailey, was most of the time.
Years back, not long after hiring on at the Bar M, Dan had been out checking a fence line on a June morning. A pretty, dark-feathered bird perched on a strand of barbed wire had cocked its head at him in just the same way. Pain had ricocheted out of nowhere with such force that his knees had almost buckled under him.
And that was just a dumb bird.
Even though the phone hadn’t vibrated, he took it back out of his pocket and squinted at the screen. Nothing. Likely it would take Angie McAllister a while to get around to texting him Bailey’s number. Colt’s wife had her hands full wrangling their three-week-old babies, Josie and Finn.
In the meantime, Dan might as well do what he’d come here to do.
He turned the sound up on his phone so he wouldn’t miss the text, got out of the truck and threaded his way through the graveyard, his boots crunching in the snow. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for.
“Hey, there, Gordon.” Dan removed his brown Stetson and then reached down and brushed the mounded snow from the top of his old boss’s tombstone.
Gordon Finnley McAllister. The name was engraved deeply into solid gray granite Colt had chosen for his grandfather’s memorial stone. It was one of the few decisions the new rancher had made that Dan hadn’t privately second-guessed. Granite was a good fit for the stubborn old man he’d known.
Gordon McAllister’s mind and body had been toughened by the wild land he loved, but the old rancher’s heart had been shaped by the Lord he’d followed faithfully—and gentled by the wife who lay slumbering beside him now. Josephine Andrews McAllister had always missed her Oklahoma home, so Gordon had buried her here, among her people. And when his time came, he’d asked to be laid beside her instead of in his beloved Wyoming. That request had shocked a lot of people back in Broken Bow, given how passionately the old man had loved the family ranch.
It hadn’t shocked Dan at all. He knew Gordon had loved his Josephine more.
Dan cleared his throat. “Colt wanted me to take a look at some heifers a couple towns over, so I thought...while I was in the neighborhood.” This felt awkward. But he forced himself to keep on going. “Colt’s doing you proud, Gordon. He’s got the makings of a solid rancher. Not as good as you, not yet. But one day he will be. I’ve stayed on to help get him started, like I promised you I would. But he’s just about got his feet under him now, and I’m thinking...” Dan fought the lump that had risen up in his throat. This was hard. “I’m thinking maybe it’s getting time for me to up stakes and move along. That’s why I came by. To let you know. And to bring you something.”
He fished a brass token from his coat pocket. It gleamed dully in the palm of his hand. “This is the chip I got from my support group when I was one year sober. You came to see me get it, eleven years ago this March. Getting through that first year without a drink was the first thing I’d done right in a long time, and one of the toughest. I’d never have managed it without you and that church you kept dragging me to. I’ve carried this thing with me ever since, but now I’m leaving it here with you.” Dan gently placed the token on top of the grave marker. “I came here to thank you, Gordon McAllister, for taking me in and forgiving me when I didn’t deserve it. I’ll owe you a debt for the rest of my life, and me leaving the Bar M won’t change that any. If Colt or Angie or those great-grandkids of yours ever need my help, I’ll be there for them. No matter what. You’ve got my word on that.”
He stood there for a long moment, his hand covering the token, the cold of the stone seeping into his fingers. Finally he lifted his hand and cleared his throat.
“That’s all I needed to say, I guess. I’d best be getting along. Rest good, Gordon, here with your Josephine. You’ve earned it.”
Then Dan settled his Stetson back on his head and started back toward the truck.
His phone chirped loudly just as he was settling into the seat. Angie had sent him a number, followed by, Colt says you go on to Georgia if you need to. Don’t worry about us.
He wasn’t worried about the McAllisters. Colt could run the Bar M just fine without Dan’s help, even with a pair of brand-new babies thrown into the bargain.
But Dan had never planned to go back to Pine Valley, Georgia. He had his reasons for that, reasons that still tore him up when he allowed himself to think about them.
Which was why he didn’t allow it.
Then again, if Bailey Quinn had reached out to him after what he’d done, after all these years...she must need something.
Something big.
He recalled something Gordon used to say when they’d hit a snag in their work. “Sometimes you gotta go back a few fence posts, son, and fix a crooked one before you can go forward. Ain’t no fun, but it’s the right thing to do. Every man makes his share of mistakes, but they ain’t nothing to be ashamed of unless you leave ’em standing.”
Dan had left some pretty busted-up fence posts standing back in Pine Valley. He should have done what he could to fix them a long time ago, but he’d kept putting it off. It was no easy thing, going back to the place where you’d behaved the worst, facing up to what you’d done before you found your feet and your faith.
He was at a turning point right now. He was about to strike out on his own again, away from the shelter of the Bar M and the McAllisters. He needed all his fence posts as straight as he could get them, and it looked like God had just handed Dan an opportunity to get that done.
Whether he liked it or not.
Lord, what do You want me to do here?
Dan knew the answer almost before he’d finished the question. The things he’d done and the people he’d hurt—like Bailey Quinn—deserved a lot more from him than a phone call. It was long past time for him to face up to them and make whatever amends he could.
Dan looked back down at his phone and slowly typed out a reply.
Headed to Georgia. Tell Colt to text me if he needs anything.
Then he hit Send, dropped the phone on the seat and shoved the truck into first gear.

“Lucy Ball, drop that right now!” Bailey Quinn jogged around the corner of her old clapboard farmhouse, trying to keep the mischievous Jersey calf in sight. “You’ll choke!”
The long-legged red calf tossed her head and flexed her jaw, crackling the plastic of the stolen water bottle she held clenched in her teeth. She was having fun, and she was in no hurry for this game to be over.
The calf loped by the chicken coop, making the young Barred Rock pullets flutter and cluck, before slowing to a stop by the open barn door. Bailey halted, too, just at the corner of the back porch, her heart pounding.
“That’s right,” she murmured coaxingly. “Go in there, where I might have a shot at cornering you!”
The valuable calf had been a farm-warming present from her friends Abel and Emily Whitlock.
Abel had shaken his head ruefully when Bailey thanked him. “Let’s see how you feel in a year or so. I know you’ve been wanting a milk cow, but they’re a sight more work than most people realize. They’ve got to be milked rain or shine, whether you’re sick or not, Christmas Day same as any other. Then there’s the milk you’ll have to deal with. A good milker will give you gallons a day. That’s a lot for one person to deal with. And you can’t sell raw milk at that store of yours, not unless you get state certified, and that’s near about more trouble and expense than it’s worth.”
Bailey had only laughed. She didn’t care if owning a milk cow was going to be a lot of work. In fact, she was counting on it.
Now that her organic grocery store was well established, she’d been hungry for a new challenge. She missed the invigorating struggle of building up a fledgling business. Working hard was what made her feel alive. And the tougher the work, the more Bailey liked it.
Given how this was going, that was a good thing. The minute she’d seen the calf’s fluffy red topknot, Bailey had christened her Lucille Ball after the iconic redheaded television star, and Lucy seemed determined to live up to her name. A day didn’t go by that the animal didn’t find some kind of trouble to get into. She was cute as could be, but right now Bailey almost wished Emily and Abel had given her a toaster.
Lucy blinked her long-lashed brown eyes at the barn doorway for a second or two. She gave her head another sassy shake, making the water slosh noisily inside the bottle. Then to Bailey’s dismay, the calf kicked her heels and started off again, heading back toward the front yard.
Bailey blew out a sigh. “I do not have time for this today,” she informed her squawking chickens as she stalked past them.
She really didn’t, but she fought a smile as she spoke. Yes, she had a lot to do, but she wasn’t complaining. This crazy overload was exactly the tonic she’d needed.
It wasn’t just the store. She’d been feeling restless for about a year now, ever since bookstore owner Anna Delaney had married Hoyt Bradley. Since then, Anna and Hoyt had welcomed their first baby together. Another friend, pastor’s wife Natalie Stone, was expecting her second child in a few months. And Emily Whitlock had not one but two sets of twins to take care of, in addition to managing the local coffee shop.
Bailey was over-the-moon happy for them all, but lately she’d felt her usual zest for life ebbing a bit. Okay. A lot. It was just that, compared to all the exciting and meaningful stuff going on with her friends, Bailey’s life had seemed a little...
Boring.
Well, not anymore. Not since she’d gone to that informational meeting about foster parenting hosted by Anna’s bookstore, Turn the Page.
Bailey had only gone to help Anna with the refreshments and to support Jillian Marshall, the local social worker who was giving the presentation. Bailey had never expected to walk out of there with a packet of paperwork clutched in her hand and a new dream burning in her heart.
But she had. The pictures of those little faces had stirred up a dream she’d given up on a long time ago. As the “surprise” only child of older parents, Bailey had longed for brothers and sisters. She’d promised herself that someday she’d raise a big, rambunctious family of her own—preferably on a farm with plenty of animals and homegrown vegetables.
At the time, of course, she’d assumed she’d share that life with...somebody special.
That part hadn’t worked out the way she’d hoped. But according to Jillian, single women could be foster moms. That nugget of information was a game changer. Bailey could build her dream family all by herself by giving a loving home to kids who needed one.
And since she couldn’t do that in a cramped apartment, Bailey’s first order of business had been sinking all her savings into a down payment on the biggest house with the largest acreage she could afford. Which also happened to be a really old house that needed an awful lot of work.
Jillian had shaken her head when Bailey had given her a tour. “Honey, I hate to tell you, but this place is going to have to be overhauled from top to bottom if you want to pass the home-study safety inspection.”
Bailey hadn’t flinched, even though her bank account was anemic now. “No problem. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll find a way to do it.”
“Well, for starters, you’re going to have to put a fence around that pond there. Bodies of water have to be fenced off. It’s a rule.”
When Abel had heard about that, he’d trucked over some extra fencing material he’d had on hand. Bailey had argued, but all she’d gotten was a lecture on looking gift horses in their mouths.
So fencing was today’s project. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going well, even without the impromptu calf chases. So far, she’d gotten exactly three fence posts in, and she’d been at it for an hour and a half. She definitely had her work cut out for her.
But first she had to catch that ridiculous calf. The question was, how?
As she walked by the barn, an idea struck her. She ducked inside and scooped a small amount of grain into a bucket.
When she rounded the side of the house, she saw Lucy standing in the front yard, nosing the water bottle along the ground. When the calf heard Bailey approaching, the animal picked up her stolen toy and tensed, ready to scamper off again.
“See what I have?” Bailey rattled the bucket.
The calf took three curious steps in her direction and halted. Bailey shook the grain again. That did it. Lucy dropped the bottle and trotted in Bailey’s direction. Bailey backed up slowly, leading the calf toward the barn and jiggling her bucket enticingly with every step.
Five minutes later, Bailey was latching the big wooden doors behind her and dusting off her hands.
One problem solved, fifty bazillion to go. And she had no idea how she was going to manage most of them.
But, she reminded herself, Jacob Stone’s last sermon had been all about how God often called ill-equipped people to do His work. “If you feel like what you’re being called to do is impossible but is something the world needs, you’re probably on the right track,” the minister had said. “Just focus on doing what you can and trust Him for the rest of it. And always be prepared for Him to work things out differently than you might expect.”
Well, Bailey couldn’t wait to see what God was going to do with her situation, and if He wanted to tuck some surprises in along the way, that was fine by her. After a year of feeling purposeless and bored, this excitement was a welcome change.
On her way across the yard, she stooped and picked up Lucy’s discarded plastic bottle. Returning to her fence, she stashed the slobbery container next to the last post she’d managed to get in and pulled on her work gloves. She hefted up her new post-hole diggers and focused on the spot she’d marked for the next post. Raising the heavy diggers as high as she could, she rammed them downward, biting into the soft brown soil.
She’d clamped out three more skimpy scoops of dirt when she heard the sound of a vehicle crunching up her rutted driveway. She turned to see a silver Ford pickup nosing its way toward her.
Just what she didn’t need right now. Company. Oh well. Maybe it was a friend she could draft into helping her get this fence up while they visited.
Bailey’s eyes narrowed as she got a better look at the truck. She knew pretty much everybody’s vehicle around here, but she didn’t recognize this one. It was a newer model, but it had the dings and scrapes of a work truck. She squinted, but the afternoon sun was glaring off the windshield. All she could tell about the driver was that he was wearing a cowboy hat.
Definitely not from around here, then.
Curious now, she studied the approaching vehicle, stripping off her canvas gloves and dropping them on the ground. Who could this cowboy be, and what was he doing way out here?
Only one way to find out. The truck rolled to a stop, and Bailey headed toward it. The driver unfolded himself from the cab when she was about half the way across the yard. He was tall and lean, but there was a muscular set to his shoulders. Too bad she didn’t know him. This guy could probably set a fence post in no time.
“Hey, there,” she called in a friendly voice. “You lost?”
The man had been scanning her place, but he turned his head toward her when she spoke. When he did, more than fifteen years of Bailey’s life crumbled away, leaving her face-to-face with a part of her past she’d tried very hard to forget.
Dan Whitlock.
Bailey stumbled to a halt, not quite believing her eyes. But it was true. After all these years, Dan was standing in her driveway.
For the past couple of days, ever since she’d dialed the Wyoming number she’d found on the internet, Bailey had been jumping every time her phone rang. She’d wondered if Dan would even call her back—and how she’d handle it if he did.
But he hadn’t called her back. He’d shown up in person.
She had absolutely no idea what to do right now.
He touched the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.” The voice was definitely Dan’s, but the gentle drawl of the deep South had been melded with something else, something stronger and brisker. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but a fellow back in town told me I might find a girl named Bailey Quinn up this way. Would you happen to know where she lives?”
Bailey had to swallow twice before she could speak. “It’s me,” she managed finally. “Dan, it’s me.”
“Bailey?” As Dan moved toward her, she saw that his voice wasn’t the only thing that had changed. He walked with the rolling gait of a man accustomed to spending a good portion of his day on horseback, and he limped a little on his left leg.
As he came close, he pulled the hat off his head. Not everything about him had changed. His hair was still the same dark mahogany, its waves pressed flat against his head. The same greenish-brown eyes skimmed over her, head to toe, before meeting her own.
He looked every bit as dumbfounded as she felt.
“It is you! Man, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you at first. You look so...different.” His eyes dropped to the teeth that had endured five long years of belated braces to correct her overbite.
Now that he was standing right in front of her, the memories Dan had jarred loose felt even more overwhelming. Her heart was thudding so hard it actually hurt.
Bailey took a deep breath. Settle down, she told herself firmly. You can handle this.
She could. She didn’t just look different. She was different. The night Dan had left her had marked the lowest point in her life. But after a few weeks of wallowing in self-pity, she’d washed her tear-splotched face and decided enough was enough.
Over the next few months, she’d toned up, given up sugar, ditched her glasses for contacts and straightened her crooked teeth. And while everybody else raved over how different she looked, Bailey knew the really important changes had happened on the inside.
She stood on her own two feet now, and she trusted her head a lot more than she trusted her heart. She’d learned those lessons the hard way, and she couldn’t afford to forget them, no matter who pulled up in her driveway.
She forced a shrug. “It’s been a long time, Dan. People change.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “I guess they do.”
An awkward silence fell between them. Finally, Bailey raised an eyebrow. “Well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I guess we can move on to the main event. Why are you here, Dan?”
“You called me.”
“I called you,” Bailey repeated. He made it sound so simple, as if the two of them facing each other after all this time wasn’t the most complicated thing that had ever happened in her entire life. Her jangled nerves found that ridiculously funny. She tried her best to swallow her laugh, but it just came out through her nose in a strangled snort. “And instead of—I don’t know—calling me back, you decided to drive all the way here from Wyoming?”
“I wasn’t in Wyoming. I was in Oklahoma tending to some business. Not that it would have mattered.” He drew in a long breath. “I’d have driven here from Alaska, if that’s where I’d been. You and I both know that I owe you that much. At least.”
“Maybe you do.” Bailey saw no point in skirting the truth. “But I gave up on collecting that debt a long time ago.”
He didn’t flinch. “I figured. That’s how I knew this had to be about something important. You’d never have called me otherwise. It’s true, what you said a minute ago. People do change. I’ve changed. I don’t expect you to take my word on that, but it’s why I’m here. So just tell me what you need from me. If there’s any way I can give it to you, it’s yours. No questions asked.”
Bailey’s knees had started wobbling, and that irritated her. The unfairness of this whole situation irritated her. She wasn’t supposed to be standing two feet away from Dan while they had this conversation. All of this was supposed to happen over the phone, and that would have been plenty tough enough, thank you very much.
She wasn’t prepared for this.
But she should have been. She, of all people, should have known that Dan Whitlock had a knack for sending a person’s well-crafted plans spinning sideways.
She clamped her hands together, digging her short fingernails into her palms. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Dan. Because the truth is, you’re right. There is something I need from you.”
“Okay.” His eyes never left hers. “Name it.”
“A divorce.”
Chapter Two
He couldn’t have heard that right. “A what?”
“A divorce,” Bailey repeated.
“But we’re not still...” He stalled out, searching her face. “I mean, didn’t you...?” He watched as a flush heated Bailey’s cheeks. “Bailey, are you telling me we’re still married?”
“Yes.” There was a little muscle twitching in her cheek, but she held her ground. “I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised. You were there.”
“But that was years ago.” He stopped and shook his head. “I figured you’d have dealt with it, had it annulled or whatever people do. In fact, I was pretty sure that was the first thing you’d have done after I...left.”
The flush in Bailey’s cheeks deepened. “Better late than never.”
Dan searched his mind for something to say, but he came up with nothing. “Maybe I was a little quick on the trigger with that no-questions-asked thing. Is there someplace we could sit down while we talk this over?”
Bailey hesitated then nodded reluctantly. “We can sit on the porch if you want, but there’s really not much to talk about. The whole thing should be very straightforward.”
Straightforward wasn’t the word Dan would have picked. He’d been trampled by bulls and walked away feeling more clearheaded than he felt right now.
All these years, he’d been married to Bailey Quinn? It was more than he could take in. The feelings he’d kept corralled in the deepest part of his heart were stampeding in fifty different directions. The dust was going to have to settle some before he could make sense of all of this.
He hadn’t even wrapped his mind around the fact that the woman standing in front of him was really Bailey. She looked so different from the girl he remembered.
Back in high school she’d carried a few extra pounds that softened her figure, and her front teeth had been a little crooked. She’d always worn a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that had slid to the end of her nose about every five minutes. She was forever pushing them back up with an impatient finger, and he was forever plucking them off so that he could steal a kiss.
All those things had just made Bailey cuter.
He could think of a lot of words to describe Bailey now, but cute wasn’t one of them. This new Bailey was lean and fit, with perfectly straight teeth and a don’t-mess-with-me way of looking straight at you.
She was beautiful, sure. No man alive would dispute that. But it was a whole different kind of beauty than he remembered.
Now this woman he barely recognized was telling him she was his wife?
The man he’d spoken to back in town had told him Bailey had just bought this place. The closer Dan and Bailey got to the farmhouse, the more he wondered why. Bailey had her work cut out for her, all right. The house had good bones, but it needed lot of repairs.
There were no chairs on the porch, so he settled carefully on the splintered steps. After an awkward pause, Bailey joined him. She positioned herself against the sagging wooden handrail, leaving a generous space between them. The shadow of the overhanging roof blocked the thin warmth of the January sun, but the sudden chill Dan felt had little to do with the weather.
In the old days Bailey would have cuddled close to him, settling her head in the gap between his shoulder and his neck. He could still remember exactly how that had made him feel at nineteen. Fiercely protective and defiantly happy, at a time in his life when happiness had been pretty hard to come by.
Now the very same girl was treating him like a stranger. He’d earned the coolness in those beautiful brown eyes, every bit of it.
But, man, oh man. The pain of seeing it there was almost more than he could stand.
Dan cleared his throat. “Okay. First off, how is this even possible?”
Bailey cocked her eyebrows. “We eloped, Dan. To Tennessee, remember?”
Yeah, he remembered. He’d just gotten dinged by the county sheriff for underage drinking again, and Bailey’s long-suffering parents had handed down an ultimatum. If he wanted to attend church with them, fine. That much they’d allow, although they didn’t sound too enthusiastic about the idea. But they made it clear that their daughter wasn’t to spend any more time alone with him. He wouldn’t be allowed to drive Bailey anywhere or take her out to dinner. It was plain enough that Mr. and Mrs. Quinn were more than ready to put a stop to a relationship they’d never really approved of in the first place.
The idea of being separated from Bailey had sent Dan into a tailspin. She was the one good thing in his out-of-control life, the only person in the whole town who hadn’t heard his last name and shied away from him. But her parents, along with everybody else in Pine Valley, seemed sure that he and Abel would turn out to be drunks and thieves, just like their dad and uncles had been, and their granddad before that.
And deep down, he’d been scared that—in his case, anyway—they were dead right. At nineteen, his drinking was already starting to get away from him, and he’d tangled with the law a few times. Nothing big, not yet. But without Bailey in his life...well, he’d known exactly what that would mean for him.
He’d self-destruct fast.
The fear had made him desperate and angry—and selfish. So selfish that one moonlit June night, he’d sweet-talked the eighteen-year-old girl he loved into leaving her parents’ tidy brick home and running away with him.
He’d never forgive himself for that.
Bailey was still waiting for his answer. He swallowed. “I know we were married. But we haven’t laid eyes on each other in years.”
Bailey gave a frustrated laugh. “A marriage certificate doesn’t have an expiration date, Dan. It’s not a jug of milk.”
“Well, no. But after I...” He stopped short.
“Ran off and left me at that awful motel in Kentucky?” Bailey’s eyes hardened as she finished his sentence. “You thought that made the marriage evaporate? Well, it didn’t.”
He winced. “You’ve got every right to be mad, Bailey. I deserve that for talking you into the whole elopement idea and then leaving you to clean up the mess all by yourself. I knew you’d have to do things. Fill out papers and all that. I’d always assumed that’s what you did.”
“Trust me, I wish I had taken care of it back then, but I didn’t. So we have to deal with it now. Let’s stay focused on that.”
“Hold on a minute.” He studied Bailey. That muscle was jumping in her cheek again, and there was a tenseness about her body that he recognized with the instinct of a man who’d spent most of his last decade moving cattle. She wanted to bolt. Something about this conversation was spooking her.
“Dan—” she started off again, but he interrupted, intent on circling back to the territory that was puzzling him.
“I’m sorry. I sure don’t have any right to question how you handled things, but this just isn’t making any sense to me. Your parents couldn’t even stand the idea of me being your boyfriend. Me being your husband? That must have sent them straight into orbit. Mind you, looking back I can’t say as I blame them. How come they didn’t take you to file the paperwork five minutes after you got back home?” He couldn’t think of a single reason they wouldn’t have.
Bailey sighed, but she met his eyes squarely. “Because I never told them we got married.”
Okay. Except for that.
“You didn’t...what do you mean you never told them?”
“I didn’t tell anybody.” She looked away and continued in a rush, “Look, none of that really matters now, does it? We were young, and we made a mistake. I didn’t call you to rehash the past. I called you because I’m ready to move on with my life, and there are certain things I can’t do until we get this settled.”
Certain things. The confused feelings swooping around in Dan’s chest turned to stone and dropped heavily into the pit of his stomach.
So that’s what this was about. Bailey had fallen in love with another guy—probably wanted to get married. But she couldn’t, not while she was still legally bound to Dan.

When Dan didn’t respond, Bailey glanced at him. His expression had changed. The sun creases in the corners of his eyes had deepened, and his jaw was set. He looked tired.
And a little sad.
He caught her eye. “I get what you’re saying about leaving the past behind. No man who’s made the kind of mistakes I’ve made would argue with you. But before we do, I’d like to give you an overdue apology. If you’ll let me.”
He was holding his hat in his hands, running the brim slowly around in a circle. He watched her face, waiting to see if she was willing to hear him out.
She wasn’t. She was holding herself together by a thread, and this wasn’t a road she wanted to go down right now.
“You don’t need to apologize, Dan. I’ll admit it hurt when you walked out on me, but in time I realized that even if you’d come back that night, things couldn’t have worked out any differently in the long run. We never should have gotten married in the first place.”
“And that’s completely on me. I never should have talked you into it. But, Bailey, back then I was so in love with you. I was scared to death I was going to lose you, and—”
“Please. Just stop.” Bailey stood. She’d had just about all she could take. “This isn’t all on you, Dan. It’s not like you kidnapped me. I let you talk me into eloping. And honestly, I was such a pushover, you could’ve talked me into just about anything. The way I see it, I’m just as much to blame as you are, and I take full responsibility for my own mistake. Now, I appreciate you driving all this way, but it really wasn’t necessary. Once the divorce papers are drawn up, I’ll just need your notarized signature, and it’ll be a done deal.”
“All right.” He had stayed seated and was looking up at her, his expression carefully blank. “I’ll make sure you get it.”
“Thanks.” Bailey reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper and a pen. “Write down your email address, and I’ll be in touch. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to work.” She hesitated awkwardly, unsure what she should say or do next. How exactly did you end a conversation like this with some kind of dignity? She had no idea.
Finally, she reached out a hand and laid it gently on his bicep. It felt like touching a sun-warmed rock. “Goodbye, Dan.”
She turned away and headed across the yard to the unfinished fence. Leaning over, she snagged the work gloves she’d dropped on the ground...what? Twenty minutes ago, maybe?
It felt like a lifetime.
Her hands were shaking so much that she had a hard time getting her fingers into the right slots. When the gloves were finally on, she reached for the post-hole diggers. As she jammed them back into the hole she’d begun, she heard the boards of the porch steps creak.
Okay, good. Dan was leaving. She held her breath, waiting to hear his truck door open and close.
“Bailey.” He spoke from so close behind her that she jumped like a startled deer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you. But...what you said back there. You were wrong. I did come back.”
She flashed him an irritated glance. “What are you talking about?”
“I drove around for a few hours. Did some drinking.” His fingers were clenched down so hard on the weathered brim of his hat that his knuckles were white. “But then I came back to the motel room. It was about three thirty in the morning, and you were curled up asleep on the bed with wadded-up tissues all around you. You’d been crying—hard—and you almost never cried. I’d done that to you on our wedding day, because I’d fought with you about driving back to Pine Valley and facing up to your parents.”
“Dan, like I said, there’s no point in—”
He cut her off. “I told you I wanted to go west, start fresh someplace new, just the two of us. But the truth was, I was just a coward. I was scared if we went back to Georgia, your parents would talk you into getting out of the marriage. Why wouldn’t they? I was a nineteen-year-old boy with a pretty serious drinking problem, a bad reputation and zero skills that would help me land a job. And standing there looking down at you, I knew they were right. I was going to ruin your life.”
He stopped. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with conviction. “I don’t think I ever sobered up as fast in my life as I did that night. And yeah, I left you there. It was the hardest thing I ever did. I’m really sorry I hurt you, but when I think about some of the things that happened to me after that, some of the places I ended up before I finally got myself turned around... Well, I can only thank the good Lord that I didn’t hurt you even worse.”
Bailey stared at him, the post-hole diggers still clenched in her hands. What was she supposed to say to that?
After a second or two, he cleared his throat. “About this divorce thing. Lawyers can get pricey. I’d like to cover the cost.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“I know you’re not. But I want to, just the same. How long will it take get it all settled?”
Bailey blinked and swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I’ll have to meet with the lawyer and see how soon he can draw up the papers. Did you leave me your email?”
“I wrote it down.” He offered her the scrap of paper she’d left behind on the porch step. She took it, careful not to brush his fingers with hers, and tucked it back into the breast pocket of her shirt.
“Okay. I’ll be in touch once I know more.”
“Would it speed things up any if I stayed in Pine Valley until the papers are ready?”
Bailey bit her lip. He wanted to stick around town? The idea made her uneasy. “That’s not necessary. Besides, you’ve probably got things you need to tend to back home.”
“Nothing more important than this. I came here to do whatever I could to set things right, Bailey. I can stay for as long as you need me to.”
“Like I said, all I need is your signature, and we can handle that long-distance.” She hesitated, but in the end she couldn’t resist adding, “But if you’re serious about setting things straight around here, you should stop by and make your peace with your brother before you leave.”
Dan flinched. “Abel still lives around here?”
“He does, but not at the old cabin. He lives on Goosefeather Farm with his wife and kids now. He married Emily Elliott a few years ago.”
“Is that so? He always was crazy about Emily, but he never figured she’d look twice at him. And he’s ended up with Mrs. Sadie’s farm to boot. He loved that place.” Dan’s wary expression softened. “Isn’t that something? Well, I’m glad it all worked out for him.”
Bailey hesitated, but the sadness in Dan’s eyes and her long-standing friendship with Abel overrode her reluctance to meddle. “You should stop and see them, Dan. It would mean the world to Abel.”
Dan shook his head absently, his eyes lingering on the semicircle of pines crowding the edge of the sparkling pond. “I doubt that. But maybe I will. I came here to face up to the messes I left behind. If Abel wants to take a swing at me, it’s no more than I deserve.”
“I think Abel might surprise you. But if you don’t mind, could you keep our situation quiet? I wasn’t kidding before when I said I didn’t tell anybody about our marriage. Abel doesn’t know, either, and since it’s all about to be over and done with anyway, I don’t see much point in telling him about it now.”
“I don’t imagine I’ll be on Abel’s property long enough to do a whole lot of talking, so don’t worry yourself. He won’t hear about it from me.”
Bailey nodded. “Thanks. If there’s nothing else, I really do need to get this fence up.”
“Need some help? Because I could—”
“No.” She cut off the offer quickly. “I’ll manage. But thanks.”
“All right, then. I’ll leave you be.” He settled his cowboy hat back on his head. His eyes were instantly shadowed, but she could feel them on her face, studying her. “I’ll be seeing you, I reckon.”
Her heart jolted at the idea. “Like I said, I’ll be in touch once I’ve heard back from the lawyer.” She stuck out her gloved hand. “I know things are—different between us now. But I’m glad to see you’re doing so well, Dan. I truly am.”
He took her hand and held it gently for a second or two. Even through the roughness of the glove, she could feel the strong warmth of his fingers. “It’s good seeing you, too, Bailey. Doing so well.”
Flustered, she nodded. She pulled her hand free and turned back toward the fence line.
“Be careful.” He spoke quietly behind her just as she jammed the diggers into the dirt. “Set those posts in good and straight. Take it from me, it’s a lot of trouble trying to fix up the crooked ones later.”
Once Dan’s pickup had rumbled out of the driveway, Bailey sucked in a long, deep breath and bent to rest her head on the wooden handles of the post-hole diggers. She stood that way for several long minutes until her heartbeat slowed back down to something closer to normal.
Then she straightened up, wiped her eyes briskly on her sleeve and went back to work.
Chapter Three
Later that afternoon Dan clenched his jaw as he turned into the long gravel driveway leading to Goosefeather Farm. It was taking every ounce of his willpower to keep the truck pointed toward his brother’s new home.
This probably wasn’t a good idea, going out to see Abel right now. Dan was reeling from his talk with Bailey. Just seeing her again would’ve been hard enough, but discovering he was still married to her?
He hadn’t been ready for that—or for finding out she’d fallen for some other guy.
That part probably shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it had, given the circumstances. But it had thrown him some, and maybe he should’ve taken some time to lick his wounds before signing up for a third punch in the gut.
Still, he’d come to Pine Valley to mend what fences he could—not that his plan was working out all that well. Bailey had been polite enough, but it was plain that all she wanted was to see the back of him. He couldn’t blame her for that.
His brother would likely feel the same. On the positive side, no matter what Abel said or did, it couldn’t hurt him any worse than seeing Bailey had.
Dan reached the end of the winding driveway and studied the view through his windshield. Goosefeather Farm had prospered under Abel. The old white house looked snug and well kept, flanked by rolling pastures, green with a winter crop of rye grass. Even the big barn sported a fresh coat of dark red paint.
Dan wasn’t surprised. Abel had always done his best to take good care of whatever ended up on his plate, including his ornery younger brother. As a young teenager, Dan hadn’t much appreciated Abel’s fumbling attempts to fill their drunken father’s shoes. In fact, he’d fought Abel every inch of the way, and he’d followed that up by leaving town without so much as a goodbye.
Dan sat for a minute as the winter sun beat through his windshield. Abel had every reason to bear a grudge, and most likely this wasn’t going to go well. It didn’t matter. His brother was long overdue for this apology, whether he was willing to accept it or not.
One thing was for sure. Dan had better get what old Gordon used to call “prayed up” before getting out of this truck. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.
God, help me face up to my brother and tell him I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused him. And no matter what he says or how mad he gets, help me to remember that he’s got every right to feel that way. Amen.
When Dan lifted his head, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Abel had stepped to the wide doorway of the barn and was looking in Dan’s direction.
Unlike Bailey, Abel hadn’t changed much. He was still lean and tall, a muscled scarecrow with a shock of black hair. He was wiping his fingers on a greasy rag as he squinted at the truck. Dan wasn’t surprised that he’d caught his brother working. Abel had never been one to sit idle.
Abel tossed up a hand in a friendly greeting and started across the yard. Dan felt sweat break out under the brim of his hat, but he switched the truck off and pushed open the door. Drawing in a deep breath of air that smelled richly of cows and hay, he walked around the front of the truck and faced his brother for the first time in over fifteen years.
“Hey, there!” The familiarity of his brother’s deep voice hit Dan hard in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t usually see Wyoming plates around here. What can I do for you?”
Dan cleared his throat. “Abel, it’s—”
Those two words were as far as he got. Abel froze. Then he flung the greasy rag to the side, and before Dan realized what was happening, he was tackled in a hug that made his ribs howl in protest. Abel’s voice spoke roughly in his ear.
“Danny, it’s really you! You’re finally home! Thank You, God! Thank You!”
Abel must have been working on a piece of farm machinery, because the odor of diesel fuel was coming off him in waves so strong that Dan’s eyes watered.
Although it could be that the fumes weren’t the only reason for that.
Dan swallowed the lump in his throat, put his arms awkwardly around his brother and hugged him back. “It’s good to see you, too, Abel.”
“Good’s not even close to being a big enough word for this.” Abel pulled back to look him in the eye, but his older brother kept a firm grip on Dan’s upper arms, as if he were afraid to let go. “I’ve been praying for this for so long, I’d just about given up on God ever answering me. But here you are!”
Dan had been braced for a chewing out, maybe even for a punch in the nose. He deserved both of them for running off like he had, for sending no word back for so long.
He hadn’t expected this kind of welcome, and he didn’t know what to say. Except...
“Abel, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Nope.” Abel grabbed him again in another bear hug, this time knocking the Stetson clean off Dan’s head. “I’m not listening to any apologies. You’re home, and that’s all that matters to me.”
“Abel?” A feminine voice called from the direction of the house. “Is everything all right?”
Dan looked over Abel’s shoulder. A slender woman with masses of light hair falling around her shoulders was standing on the steps of the farmhouse. Twin toddlers with Abel’s black hair peeked shyly from behind her skirt.
“Better than all right, Emily!” Abel’s voice shook as he answered his wife. “Danny’s come home!”
“Oh, Abel! That’s wonderful! Well, don’t keep him all to yourself! Come on into the kitchen, Danny! I just took some fresh bread out of the oven.” She beckoned enthusiastically and then turned, taking her children’s hands and leading them back into the house.
“I don’t want to butt in—” Dan ducked down to rescue his hat, and when he straightened up, Abel flung one arm around his younger brother’s shoulders and began herding him toward the house.
“’Course you’re coming in! I’ve got kids for you to meet, Uncle Danny! I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing since you left town.” Abel led the way across a screened side porch and opened a door, ushering Dan inside.
The farmhouse kitchen closed around him with as much warmth as his brother’s unexpected hug. The room was clean and bright, with red-checkered curtains and flowers blooming cheerfully on a sunny windowsill. Two golden-brown loaves of bread were cooling on the counter, and children’s toys littered the floor.
Before Dan knew what was happening, he was settled in a chair at the big oval table. A thick slice of bread sat in front of him, homemade butter melting into golden streams across its top. Emily set a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow before turning to pour cups of milk for the twins.
The toddlers were staring at him owlishly. The boy had Abel’s blue eyes, but the girl had inherited her mother’s green ones.
Keeping one wary eye fixed on Dan, the little girl flickered pleading fingers at her father, who immediately gathered her gently onto his knees. The boy stood his ground, watching the stranger closely, one thumb stuck in his mouth.
“That’s your uncle Danny,” Abel told them. “Dan, this little sweetheart is our Lily, and the fine-looking fellow over there is Luke. They just turned two back in December.”
“Hi.” The kids were cute as they could be. What must it be like, Dan wondered, to have a wife you loved and a home like this? Nice, he reckoned. “You’ve got yourself a fine family, Abel.”
“And this isn’t all of it.” Abel grinned up at his wife. “There’s two more of us. Paul and Phoebe are visiting their nana Lois for the afternoon. I sure hate they’re missing this, but I suppose you’ll meet them soon enough.”
“Four kids.” Not only was Dan an uncle, he was an uncle four times over. It was a lot to take in, and he felt a twinge of envy. If things had been different, if he and Bailey had stayed together, maybe they’d have kids by now, too. “That’s really something.”
“Well, Phoebe and Paul came along with Emily when I married her, so I got a triple blessing there. You have any kids, Danny?”
“No. I’m not—” Married. That’s what he’d started to say, but that wasn’t true. “I’m not as blessed as you are,” he finished awkwardly.
“Well now, don’t give up hope. Sometimes God works things out slow, but He always gets the job done in His good time. The fact that you’re sitting here at my table today is proof enough of that. I sure have a lot to thank Him for. You mind if I go ahead and get started on that now? We generally say grace before we eat, but if it bothers you—”
“Nope.” As off balance as he felt right now, Dan’s answer came fast and sure. “The Lord’s seen me through some hard times, Abel. I wouldn’t be sitting here in front of you it hadn’t been for Him and the good people He set in my path. So you go right ahead.”
Joy sparkled in Abel’s eyes. “That’s real good to hear, Danny. Come on, kids, let’s pray.”
Dan closed his eyes and listened to his brother’s deep voice. “Lord, I thank You for bringing my brother home to me. And please forgive me for all those times I got kinda short with You about how long it was taking. I should’ve known You were up to something bigger than I could think to ask You for. You’ve not only brought Danny back, You’ve brought him back knowing You. That’s a double gift, and now I’m grateful You took Your time. I surely am.”
Dan felt a little hand come to rest on top of his. Startled, he opened his eyes. Luke had edged closer, and he was gripping Dan’s thumb in one chubby fist. The toddler had his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his face puckered in concentration.
Dan quickly followed suit, doing his best to refocus his attention on his brother’s brief prayer.
“Amen,” Abel finished, and Luke’s eyes popped open.
“Amen,” the little boy echoed cheerfully. He loosened his grasp on Dan’s finger and then reached out to cautiously touch the Stetson Dan had placed on the table.
Dan grinned as he studied his nephew. Cowboy hats drew little boys as sure as flowers drew honeybees.
What would it be like to have a son like this little fellow? Somebody to teach and love and look after? He’d probably never know, and most likely that was a good thing. Abel was prime father material, no doubt about it. Dan not so much.
Still. It might have been kind of nice.
“Let’s not get Uncle Danny’s hat all sticky, Lukey,” his mother said. Emily flashed an apologetic smile at Dan. “He had that thumb in some jam just a second ago.”
“That’s all right.” Dan picked the hat up and settled it on his nephew’s head. It swallowed the little boy, making his parents chuckle. Luke poked the brim up with one hand and grinned from under it with such cheeky joy that Dan’s heart gave another strangely painful twist.
“Now then,” Abel said, reaching for the mason jar of homemade strawberry jam his wife had placed on the table. He scooted it in Dan’s direction. “Spread some of this on that bread there and let’s get ourselves all caught up.”
An hour later, there were only crumbs on the plates, and Emily had refilled Dan’s coffee cup for the third time. Abel leaned back in his chair and shook his head.
“So my baby brother’s a rancher now. The Bar M. I sure would like to see that place. I’m such a homebody, I’ve never been farther west than Alabama myself.”
“I’d love to have you come out west for a visit, Abel, but the truth is, I may not be at the Bar M much longer.”
“Why not? You don’t get along with this new Colt fellow?”
Dan shook his head. “It’s not that. Colt McAllister’s a good man, and we’ve been friends for years. But he doesn’t need the same kind of foreman his grandpa did. Mr. Gordon was in his seventies when I hired on, and he’d had two heart attacks. It’s different with Colt. Colt’s young and healthy, and he likes to handle things himself instead of relying on an employee. Nothing wrong with that. I’d be that way myself, probably.”
Abel nodded. “But it’s tough to step back when you’ve been the one running the show. Is that it?”
“Something like that, I reckon. Colt will put in a good word for me, and folks trust the McAllisters. I shouldn’t have much trouble hiring on someplace else, once I put out the word that I’m looking.” Dan darted an uneasy look at his brother’s face. “It’s not pride, Abel. I’ve always known my place. It’s just—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Abel interrupted him. “I can see for myself how it is. You’ve grown too big for the space this Colt fellow can give you. That’s all. You need to find yourself a place where you can flex your muscles a little. A place of your own, maybe.” His brother’s eyes lit up. “I’d sure be happy if you settled down somewhere close to Pine Valley.”
“Not likely. I never fit here the way you do, Abel. You know that.”
“Seems to me you’ve changed a good bit since you’ve been away, Danny. Could be you’d fit in here better than you think. But I reckon that’s something you’ll need to find out for yourself. Either way, you won’t be leaving right away, I hope. You can stay on a few days, at least, can’t you?”
Dan hesitated, but then he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I could.” He owed Abel that much, and maybe by then the divorce papers would be ready to sign. Then he could put Pine Valley in his rearview mirror with a clear conscience.
“Good! You can bunk up at the old cabin. I use the workshop behind it for my wood-carving business, but other than that the place has been standing empty since Emily and I got married.”
The cabin? Dan shook his head quickly. “I don’t want to put you to any bother.”
“It’s no bother, and that cabin’s as much yours as it is mine, Danny.”
Maybe so, but Dan would just as soon never lay eyes on that place again. The memories associated with the cabin where he’d grown up weren’t good ones. But that’s what this whole visit was about, wasn’t it? Facing up to the past he’d been running away from.
All of it. Whether he liked it or not.
“All right, if you’re sure I won’t be troubling you any. Thanks.” Dan shot a wary glance at the staircase. Emily had disappeared up that way a few minutes ago with the twins in tow, saying she was going to settle them down for a nap. It was quiet up there now, so Emily might be coming back down soon.
If Dan was going to ask the question burning a hole in his gut, now would probably be the best time. “Hey, Abel? How’s Bailey Quinn doing these days?”
“Bailey? She’s doing all right. She’ll be happy to hear you’re back in town. After you left, she nearly pestered the life out of me, wanting to know if I’d heard anything from you. She seemed to miss you something fierce. The two of you were pretty sweet on each other back in high school, weren’t you?”
They were edging into the danger zone. “Yeah.” There was no use for it. He had to know. “So who’s Bailey sweet on these days?”
“Nobody.” Abel’s answer came instantly. “Hang on. I’ll get a key to the cabin for you.” Abel stood and went to rummage in a drawer.
“You sure about that? About Bailey, I mean?”
“Dead sure.” Abel shot him a thoughtful glance. “Now that I come to think of it, she’s never shown interest in any fellow since you two were hanging around together. Not once in all these years, at least as far as I can remember. You aren’t looking to stir up the embers of that old campfire, are you?”
“No.” Dan toyed with handle of his coffee cup. “Way too much water under the bridge for that. Just curious, is all.” He spoke evenly, but it took some effort. “A smart, pretty woman like Bailey Quinn...seems strange that she hasn’t settled on somebody.”
“Not so strange. Bailey’s got an independent streak a mile wide, and she keeps herself too busy for dating. She’s never happy unless she’s got herself neck-deep in some project. The more hopeless it is, the better she likes it. Come to think of it,” Abel added with a wink, “that could explain why she took you on.”
Probably more truth in that little joke than Abel realized. “What’s she got going on nowadays?”
“For the past few years she’s been all about that grocery store of hers. She’s finally got it up and running, but now she’s bought herself the Perrys’ old farm to fix up. That place is in such bad shape, it’s going to take a passel of time and hard work, so it’s right up Bailey’s alley.” Abel shrugged and resumed shuffling items around in the drawer.
“What would a single woman want with a broken-down farm?”
“Well, Bailey’s real softhearted about little ones, and she never got around to having a family of her own. Emily tells me that once Bailey gets the house fixed up, she’s looking into being a foster mom. She’s aiming to take in some kids who’ve had a hard time and give them a good home.”
“Is that a fact?” Dan’s heart stirred. That sounded like Bailey.
“Yes. It’s going to take some doing. She told Emily they just about count the fillings in your teeth before they’ll let you into the program. They check out your background and do a safety inspection, all that stuff. That farmhouse is going to need a lot of overhauling before it’ll pass muster. I plan on helping her as much as I can, but between the twins, the farm and my carving business, I don’t have much free time these days. Here it is!” Abel withdrew a key from the drawer and tossed it to Dan. “This’ll open the front and back doors, and it’s yours to keep. The cabin will be waiting for you to use whenever you feel like it.”
“That’s good of you, Abel.” Dan weighed the key in his hand as he mulled over what Abel had told him.
So that’s why Bailey had finally decided to deal with their situation. She needed a clear ending to their marriage so she could be approved to take in some foster kids.
Plenty of years had come and gone since Bailey had first caught his eye, but one thing hadn’t changed. This woman he’d hurt so badly was still one of the nicest people he’d ever met.
Over the years, his regrets about Bailey had dogged him, aching off and on like the knee he’d busted during an ill-advised bull-riding experiment. He’d like to be shed of that pain and guilt. As he’d driven here, he’d found himself hoping Bailey needed a favor, something really big. Something he could do for her so he could leave Pine Valley feeling as if he’d made up for at least some of the pain he’d caused her.
Something a lot more than just a signature on divorce papers.
And from what Abel had just told him, Bailey did need help—a lot of it. She had no intention of asking Dan for it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the offer.
“Dan?”
Belatedly he realized Abel had been talking to him. “Sorry. I zoned out there for a minute. What?”
“I was just saying, you should run by and see Bailey while you’re in town. Tomorrow, maybe. She’s always at that store of hers by eight thirty. You could surprise her.”
“I might do that.”
Abel chuckled. “That’ll be something, won’t it? You walking right in after all these years? Bailey’s a hard girl to fluster, but that ought to do it. I can just see her face!”
Dan managed a tight smile. He could, too.
In fact, for the last few hours he hadn’t been able to see much of anything else.

At eight o’clock the next morning, Bailey was in her store on her hands and knees chasing a rolling tangerine.
“Gotcha!” she muttered as her fingers closed around the runaway fruit. Then, “Ow!”
She’d absentmindedly lifted her head too soon, butting hard against the underside of the wooden table. She carefully backed the rest of the way out, before sitting up to massage her throbbing head.
This was getting ridiculous. Seeing Dan yesterday had really rattled her. So far this morning she’d broken a jar of spaghetti sauce, spilled her coffee on a stack of mail and dropped three pieces of fruit. She hadn’t even opened the store yet, and she already wanted to go home.
“You okay?” a male voice called from her storeroom.
Oh, brother. “I’m fine!” Bailey answered quickly.
Lyle York, hands down her least favorite delivery man, poked his greasy head through the storeroom doorway.
“You sure? I could come help you if you want.”
“No, thanks.” Bailey spoke firmly as she got to her feet. “Everything’s under control.”
“Why don’t you come help me unload this fruit then? It’d go a lot faster if we worked together.” He winked suggestively. “It’d be a lot more fun, too.”
Ick. Bailey suppressed a shudder. “Sorry. You’ll have to handle it by yourself. I’m busy.”
Lyle’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t look so busy to me, but fine. Be that way.”
As the deliveryman sulked back into the storeroom, Bailey placed the rescued tangerine with the others in the tempting basket she’d angled on her front table. Just as she reached into the cardboard box for another one, a loud crash came from her storage room.
“Whoops,” Lyle called, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Sorry. That crate slipped right out of my hands.”
Bailey ground her teeth and stayed silent. Lyle was a pain in the neck, and his efforts to flirt with her were getting more and more annoying. If he wasn’t the grandson of the most reliable citrus supplier she’d ever found, she wouldn’t have put up with him this long. The man just kept getting pushier, and soon she was going to have to set him back on his heels, no matter how that impacted her fruit deliveries.
But she wasn’t feeling up to having that confrontation today. When Dan Whitlock had shown up yesterday afternoon, he’d thrown her so far off balance that she still felt unsteady.
After Dan had left, she’d tried to keep working on the fence, but after a frustrating hour, she’d abandoned the project. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t do anything but think about Dan, replaying every snippet of their short conversation over and over again.
It was infuriating. This wasn’t who she was, not anymore. The Bailey Quinn who’d been irresistibly drawn to creamy chocolate, greasy French fries and equally bad-for-you guys was long gone. The new and improved Bailey made smart decisions. She ate more kale, exercised faithfully three times a week and preferred do-it-yourself projects to guys with broody eyes, stubborn jaws...and cowboy hats.
It was just that Dan’s visit had come at the worst possible time. She’d been feeling restless for a while now. For years she’d poured herself into Bailey’s, and now the store was finally flourishing. She was proud of what she’d accomplished, but she needed a new challenge to tackle.
That shouldn’t be a problem. According to Jillian, there were plenty of kids needing foster homes—kids who’d suck up every ounce of restless energy Bailey had. All Bailey had to do was get her mistake of a marriage taken care of and find some way to afford the necessary repairs around the farmhouse. Granted, that last part had her stymied, but she’d figure something out. She always did.
But she couldn’t afford to get distracted.
Bailey pushed Dan to the back of her mind and returned her focus to the job at hand. Freshly in from Florida, these tangerines would add a nice splash of color to the front of her store. More importantly, they were organically grown and chock-full of vitamin C. In midwinter, these little gems were worth their weight in gold, but maybe she’d run a nice sale on them as a treat for her customers.
If so, she might need to make a bigger display, because they’d be likely to sell out quickly. She had several matching baskets in the storeroom, but she had no intention of venturing back there until after Lyle left. Maybe there was a stray basket stowed behind the checkout counter.
While she was rummaging, there was a knock on the door. Annoyed, Bailey glanced up at the old library clock ticking on the back wall. It wasn’t time to open yet, but she’d go ahead and unlock the door. Folks frequently needed to zip in and grab a few things on their way to work, and she had to keep her customers happy.
Bailey took a deep breath and forced a smile—which lasted until the moment she saw who was waiting outside on the sidewalk.
What was Dan doing here? Her pulse sped up, and Bailey bit down sharply on the tender inside of her lower lip.
This couldn’t be good.
She rounded the wooden counter, crossed briskly to the door and unlatched it. It took a minute—the lock was always tricky. Although she deliberately kept her eyes focused on the fussy mechanism, she was very aware of Dan standing just on the other side of the glass. In spite of her better judgment, she looked up and met his eyes as she slid the bolt free.
He was looking right at her, so close that his breath misted the glass between them. For a second, their eyes locked, and her heart gave a painful thump. She looked away and jerked the door open, too flustered to bother with courtesy.
“What are you doing here, Dan?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her tone. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry. It’s just... I’m really busy right now.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I heard you’re doing really good with this place.” As Dan’s eyes left hers to skim the store, Bailey felt a little of her confidence return in spite of her skittering nerves.
Bailey’s was as close to perfect as she could make it. The store’s trademark decor was an eclectic mix of old and new, and she’d chosen each feature with care. She’d replaced the broken antique lights with retro recreations, and she’d splurged on the best heating and air unit she could afford. But she’d restored the wide pine floorboards, even though replacing them would have been cheaper. She’d even paid extra to have them refinished in a way that had showcased their interesting scarring.
She’d spent happy weekends combing estate sales and antique stores for the primitive cabinets lining the walls. The jams and sauces displayed on their shelves were made using her own unique recipes, and she’d designed the brick-red logo on their labels herself. Everything in this space bore her personal touch—literally. She’d spent a few weeks three summers ago with oddly colored fingers after chalk painting the farmhouse tables she used to showcase baskets of fresh fruit and vegetables.
She missed those days. Fixing up a store was a lot more fun than running one.
“It looks like something out of a magazine.” Dan had pulled his hat off his head and was running it around in his hands again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you from your work. I just wanted you to know that after I left your place, I went by to see Abel.”
“Did you?” In spite of her irritation, Bailey was curious. “How’d that go?”
“Better than I deserved.” Dan’s surprisingly humble answer came back without hesitation. Like that cowboy hat he kept playing with, this humility was something new.
Which meant Bailey wasn’t quite sure how to respond to it.
“Your brother’s a good man.”
“He is that. He invited me to stay in the old cabin for a few days. Spend some time getting to know his family and all. No—” Dan held up a hand when Bailey opened her mouth. “Don’t worry. Abel thinks I’ve come back just to see him, and I haven’t told him any different. I’m not planning to cause you any trouble. In fact, I think I’ve come up with a way I could be some help to you, if you’ll let me.”
“Help?” Bailey wrinkled her forehead. “What kind of help are you talking about?”
“That’s going to take a little explaining, and I expect you’ll have customers coming along shortly. Why don’t you drive out to the cabin this evening for a few minutes? That way we can talk things over, just you and me.”
Just you and me. The thrill she felt at Dan’s words only made Bailey’s inner alarm system clang louder. Bad idea, spending time alone with this man, any way you sliced it.
But oh, she wanted to. She wanted to go to that cabin so much it almost scared her. She wanted to sit down and listen to whatever Dan wanted to say. She wanted to look at him, to remind herself of past moments that she’d be far better off forgetting.
This wasn’t good. The man had been in town less than twenty-four hours, and she was already flip-flopping like a hooked sunfish.
“Fruit’s unloaded, Bailey.” Lyle poked his head back through the doorway. “Now how about being a sweetheart and fixing me some coffee before I head out? I got more deliveries up around Atlanta. That traffic’s killer, and I need to be alert.”
Bailey threw him an irritated look. She’d offered Lyle a cup of coffee exactly once, when he’d used fatigue as an excuse for banging his truck into the concrete loading dock at the rear of the store. He’d taken the opportunity to sit too close to her and make skeevy comments about how great her hair smelled. She didn’t have the time or energy for Lyle’s nonsense this morning.
“Sorry. I don’t have any coffee made. You could stop by the church coffee shop and get some if you want. They should be open by now. Drive safe, and give your grandpa my best.”
Lyle’s expression darkened. He darted a wary glance at Dan. “Before I leave, you better at least come back here and take a look at how I got this fruit stacked up. You know how picky you are about that, and besides, we haven’t had any chance to talk since I got here.”
Bailey frowned, but before she could reply, Dan cut in.
“I believe the lady said you could go.” His voice was calm, but there was a steely undertone in it that made the hairs on the back of Bailey’s neck tickle, the way they did when lightning was about to strike.
Lyle opened his mouth to protest, but then his narrowed eyes scanned Dan from head to toe. The pace of the delivery man’s gum chewing picked up nervously, and he held up both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hold your horses there, Tex. I don’t see how this is any of your business, but fine. Have it your way, Bailey, but you better not go complaining to Pops if you end up having to move those heavy crates around by yourself. I’ll stop back by on my way home in a couple of days and see if you got any additions to your order. Maybe by then you’ll be in a better mood.”
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