Claire McEwen - Reunited With The Cowboy

Jace blew out a breath. “That doesn’t seem like a great idea. You could tell her you’d rather not.”

“Trust me, I tried. But there are new laws, and apparently listening to her is one of them.” But there was more. Maya wasn’t the only reason to lose it. “Then Trisha tonight...well, it felt almost like someone was trying to hurt Julie.” Caleb ran a hand through his hair, trying to bring his thoughts into some kind of order. “Coming home, being on the ranch, seeing Maya and now Trisha, it just brings it all back.”

“I get it,” Jace said quietly. “I really do. But you’ve got to find a way to keep the past from messing up the present.”

Caleb eyed this new, mature version of his friend. “Not too long ago you would have landed a punch or two yourself.”

“Not too long ago I didn’t have three kids to think about,” Jace countered. “I’ve had to change. Maybe it’s time you grew up too.”

The old sorrow knotted in Caleb’s stomach. “I kind of feel like I grew up a long time ago. But I skipped the fun part and went straight to being the bitter old guy hunched at the end of the bar.”

“You’ve got to get over the things that are eating at you. Adam isn’t going to let you off with a chat over breakfast if this kind of thing happens again. You’re not a Marine anymore. You can’t deal with your problems via combat.”

Jace was right. But sometimes it was hard to stop fighting, after he’d spent so many years doing just that.

Caleb looked over at Adam, still across the parking lot, talking to the other deputy. His old friend had locked him up once already, a few months ago, the day Caleb realized that his dad had stopped paying taxes and the state was about to take possession of the ranch. Caleb had gotten drunk and disorderly at Dex’s as he tried to absorb the news—that his beloved Bar D Ranch, which he’d held in his mind like a precious prize to claim once he’d finished his final tour, was about to slip out of his hands.

He’d never told Adam or Jace the reason for his binge that night. He was too ashamed of the poverty, the way that his family, once respected and influential in Shelter Creek, was about to lose the very ground beneath their feet. Instead he’d sobered up in the drunk tank and gone home to figure out how to save the ranch.

And he had. Sort of. He’d worked out a payment plan with the state that could save the Bar D, eventually. But making those payments was a challenge, especially when the ranch also needed so many repairs. So when a mountain lion had taken a couple of sheep last week, it had felt even more personal than it might have otherwise. Those sheep were Caleb’s only hope of income, his chance to get himself out of this financial mess.

Jace cleared his throat. “Want to see if we’re up at the pool table yet?”

Good old Jace. Knowing when to stop lecturing and have some fun. “Okay.” Caleb clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jace pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “I’ve got to be home in an hour. And you should go home then too.”

“Yes, Dad.” Caleb winced as Jace landed a punch to his shoulder. “Ouch. I thought you were a pacifist now.”

“Mostly. But as your friend, it’s still my duty to hit you when you’re being an idiot.”

“Then I guess you’ve got yourself a new punching bag.”

“You’ve got to grow up. I’m serious.”

“I’m grown. I promise.” Caleb followed Jace back into the bar, knowing his friend was right. Adam was right. He had to stop fighting. He had to stop drinking so much. But if he did, what would he have left?

Nothing but troubles he didn’t know how to solve and memories he didn’t want to face.

CHAPTER THREE

MAYA HEAVED HER backpack through Grandma’s front door, inhaling the scent of the lavender sachets Grandma put in every drawer. It was the same smell Maya had noticed when she’d first come to live here as a scared, sad five-year-old. Peace. Comfort. Safety.

Funny how Maya hadn’t noticed the lavender when she’d stopped by briefly on Monday. She’d been too busy trying to figure out how to get away from town again, as fast as possible.

She unlaced her dusty hiking boots and set them back outside on the porch before stepping inside and closing the front door behind her. “Grandma, are you here? I’m home!”

“In the living room!” Grandma Lillian’s voice was light with laughter, and suddenly the meaning of all the cars parked in front of the house sank in. It was Wednesday evening. Grandma’s book club was here. “Come on in and say hello to The Book Biddies,” Grandma called.

Glancing down at her dusty clothes and scraped-up legs, Maya winced. She needed a shower desperately after spending two nights and days on the trail. “I’m really dirty!” she called back.

“Ooh most people don’t admit that outright,” came a sardonic voice Maya didn’t recognize.

A roomful of giggles followed the quip. They must have busted out the drinks already. So many of Grandma’s stories about The Book Biddies involved alcohol, Maya teased her that they should change their name to The Booze Biddies.

“I’m going to shower first!” She made it to the first landing on the stairs before Grandma appeared at the bottom, hands fisted on her hips.

“Maya Burton, are you hiding from a bunch of old ladies?”

“No.” Her face heated. “But I’ve been camping for two nights. I need to get cleaned up.”

“Come say a quick hello. Everyone is so excited to see you. It’s been thirteen years.”

“Exactly. So can’t we wait twenty minutes more? I look terrible.”

“No one cares how you look. And we’re going to get into our book talk soon. Just come?”

Maya’s feet were reluctant weights as she stomped back down the stairs. “I’m probably covered in poison oak and ticks.”

“Then a few of my friends shouldn’t scare you.” Grandma folded her arms across her pink-flowered bosom and set her lips in the stubborn line Maya recognized as the ancestor to hers. “I know you’re anxious about being home again. But my book club is the perfect place to dip your toes in the water.”

“I’m not ready to dip my toes anywhere but the shower.”

“Don’t be silly,” Grandma said and turned around with the confidence that Maya would follow.

Which she did. This was Grandma asking, so she’d do what would make her happy. As she followed her grandmother down the hall, Maya noticed how light on her feet the older woman was. Grandma wore hip fake-leather leggings today, a top covered in pink flowers and sparkly flat shoes. She moved like a much younger woman. Why had she stopped traveling? Why hadn’t she wanted to come see Maya anymore?

Maya had assumed it was because her grandmother was slowing down physically. But she sure didn’t seem slow. She was practically skipping. And judging from the laughter in the next room, Grandma wasn’t lacking in friends. She didn’t seem lonely or depressed.

Just before they reached the living room, Maya paused, heart thumping against her ribs, the air suddenly thin. It was one thing accidentally running into Caleb; it was another to deliberately meet a bunch of people who all knew her past. Maya had never had to do it before. Leaving town so soon after the accident had given her a fresh start where no one knew her story. No one knew that her bad driving had killed her boyfriend’s sister, the town’s sweetheart, Julie Dunne.

Of course Maya knew. Shame and regret ate at the edges of even her best days, and devoured her entirely on others. But she’d never had to be around anyone, except Grandma Lillian, who also knew .

Her heart kicked up another notch, and Maya inhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm down.