Roxanne Rustand - High Country Homecoming

Lifting yet another heavy cardboard box from the trunk of her car, she shouldered her computer bag and started up the rocky trail to her cabin for the fifth time.

At the sound of footsteps behind her, she hesitated for a split second, then kept walking. But she was no match for Devlin’s long stride.

“I can carry that box,” he said as he fell in beside her. “I’m heading up that direction anyway.”

“No need.” She sidestepped when he tried to take it.

He gave a low sound of exasperation. “Still independent. I guess you haven’t changed that much after all.”

Adjusting the awkward weight of the box in her arms, she shot a side glance at him. “Neither have you.”

But that wasn’t exactly true.

He hadn’t been this polite the last time she’d seen him. Or this tall, well-muscled and flat-out handsome.

Back then, he’d been a tall, gangly sixteen-year-old, with a shock of unruly dark hair and the most beautiful silver-blue eyes she’d ever seen—back then, or since. She’d been just eleven, her last summer here, and he’d been her first big, hopeless crush. His lethal combination of teen-idol looks and bad-boy charisma had the girls in town following him like a flock of besotted groupies.

She’d teased him about them just to see his cheeks go red, but she had no doubt that the local women were going to be mighty pleased to see him back on their home turf. If someone, somewhere, wasn’t already wearing his ring and planning wedding bells, it wouldn’t take long for one of the locals to nab him. And the sooner, the better, before he broke any more hearts.

He certainly wouldn’t be breaking hers.

As a child, she’d been his persistent shadow, but in return he’d relentlessly teased her. Only when no one was watching did she ever let herself cry. She understood his behavior now, from an adult perspective. What teenage boy wanted a little girl to be his ever-present tagalong? But the teasing had hurt. He’d made her feel self-conscious and unworthy, and she’d grown to hate her freckles and everything else about herself.

But far worse, he’d hung out with the bad boys in high school—wild parties, lots of booze. She knew it was true—she’d seen him out in the woods and behind the barns, drinking with that rowdy crowd. And that scared her to death.

With a dad like hers, even at eleven she’d known Devlin’s drinking was a terrible red flag—a lifetime, ironclad deal-breaker, no questions asked.

No matter how handsome or polite or charming he might be now, she was not looking for romance any longer, and especially not with someone who partied and got drunk with his friends.

At the cabin, he stepped in front of her to open the door wide.

“Well, have a good...” He stared at the pile of boxes in the middle of the floor and the mountain of grocery sacks on the counter. “You sure pack light.”

At the brief deepening of the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, she felt the impact of his old charm clear down to her toes. The local women weren’t going to be just pleased at his return; they were going to be over-the-moon ecstatic.

“ How long did you say you’re staying?”

Dropping the last box onto the stack, she pulled her laptop-case strap from her shoulder and laid the case on the kitchen table. “Three months. I had just enough money saved to stay here that long before I move on.”

“What sort of work did you do?”

“I was a secretary for...” she faltered, debating how much to reveal. “...a big investment firm, while putting myself through graduate school.”

That much was true, just not entirely complete. And it wasn’t like she was a criminal on the run—she’d been exonerated, after all. Even so, she’d already seen the expressions of doubt and accusation on the faces of acquaintances...people who’d wanted to believe the worst.

But Devlin had no interest in her. He surely wouldn’t think to try googling her on the internet, so it should be possible to simply keep her troubled past where it belonged. In the past.

He eyed her curiously. “What was your major?”

Mom had declared she was foolish to chase dreams that might never come true. When her own mother didn’t believe in her, was it ridiculous to think she could ever succeed? Would Devlin laugh if she told him about what she was doing?

“My major was Creative Writing,” she said. “That’s why I wanted to come out here. I wanted a peaceful, beautiful place to stay, where I could concentrate on my writing with no interruptions. Since I have such happy memories of Montana, this ranch seemed perfect.”

“And then where will you go?”

That was the hard part. Knowing Chloe’s situation, her sister had offered her a generous salary, and a chance for a fresh start. Far too generous an offer to refuse. But the thought of her future weighed on her shoulders like a mantle of iron.

She might not ever make much money with her writing, so she could hardly afford to turn down Jane’s offer, considering her legal debts. But it was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’ve got a property-management job waiting for me in Kansas City.”

He regarded her for a long moment. “You don’t exactly look thrilled about it.”

“It will be a blessing,” she said firmly. “I’ll need a job as soon as I leave. But until then, I will count myself fortunate to stay here once again.”

He seemed to consider that for a while, then sighed. “I expect Betty will be happy to see you.”

Chloe couldn’t help but smile at his less-than-gracious attitude. “I can’t wait to see her, either. After my mom took off, I used to pretend that she was my grandma. She still sends me birthday cards with invitations to come visit, but this is my first time back. When will the family be home?”

He was bent over the dead bolt on the door, checking it out. He didn’t answer.

He’d ignored some of her questions, and twice he hadn’t responded when she called out his name. She’d figured he was just being his usual distant self.

But now she wondered. Devlin had been physically wounded and probably had deeper, more-emotional wounds, as well. Who wouldn’t with all of the dangers he’d probably faced in battle?

Had he also ended up with hearing damage due to his military career?

It was entirely plausible, but prying personal information from him had always been a futile task. She waited until he looked up again. “When will the rest of your family be back?”

“A week from tomorrow.”

Sure enough, now she could see that he wasn’t just listening; he was trying to watch her speak. “Aren’t the twins in school?”

“Kindergarten, but they’re on spring break.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a fleeting, affectionate grin at the mention of the little girls. “They seemed pretty excited about Disneyland.”

“I can believe it. They’ll sure have a lot of days with Mickey.”

Devlin shrugged. “Not all of that time. They’re visiting their mom in San Diego, Jess is looking at some stallion prospects and Abby will be checking out a few colleges.”

“Who is Abby?”

“She was hired as a nanny last fall, and now she and Jess are engaged.”

“But she’s looking at colleges, so she’s leaving?”

“Considering online programs, I guess.”

“Good for her.” Chloe slid a knife through the shipping tape on the top of a cardboard box labeled Kitchenware and inspected the contents. Books.

She straightened and rested a hand at the small of her back. “You’ll have eight busy days ’til they get back, then. Are there ranch hands to do the chores?”

“Nope. I told Jess I could do it. Might as well earn my keep while I’m here.” He touched the brim of his Stetson and gave her a slight nod of farewell, then turned for the door. “‘Night.”