Charlene Sands - The Secret Heir of Sunset Ranch

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Justin Slade.” She gave him a motherly kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I do believe this is the first time you’ve been in my bar legitimately.”

“Wasn’t old enough before I left for boot camp.”

“I know it, but you’ve been here dozens of times. I used to open the back room up for my son and the rest of you boys to play pool. You remember that, don’t you?”

He nodded, thinking back on that time. “I’ll never forget that trusty old pool table.” He’d lost his virginity on that pool table with Betsy Ann Stankowski when he was sixteen.

“I’m not hearing any of this,” the sheriff said, leaning way back in his chair.

Amber waved him off. “Robbie, don’t tell me you didn’t know about the boys coming here. You didn’t make any noise about it because your little sis would tag along with them sometimes, so don’t you get all high and mighty now. For pity’s sake, I never gave any of the kids liquor.”

The sheriff shrugged off her reprimand. “Who’s getting high and mighty? I’m here to buy Justin a drink. What’ll you have, boy? Want to try you some Nevada Punch?”

“Sure do.”

“It’s on the house,” Amber said. Then she pointed at the sheriff. “And your favorite iced coffee since you had the good sense to bring Justin in.”

“Thank you, kindly,” Justin said.

“You got a heart of gold, Amber Louise.” Robbie sent her a grin.

She lifted her brows at the sheriff dubiously before she turned to focus on Justin. “It’s the least I can do for you. Why, you’re a hero, saving five lives like you did. You make us all proud.”

Though he was uncomfortable with the praise she lavished on him, Justin thanked her. She meant well. Everyone meant well, but he didn’t want free drinks, or meals on the house, or reporters poking around Sunset Ranch, hoping to get an interview with the hometown hero.

What he wanted was time to adjust to being home.

Kat Grady had thrown a wrench into those plans, pronto.

Amber served the coffee to the sheriff and her specialty beer in a tall pilsner glass. Justin brought the glass to his lips and took a gulp of the dark, rich ale. “This is pretty good,” he said to the sheriff.

“Hits the spot, doesn’t it? So what are your plans now that you’re back home? Planning on working on the horse farm with your brothers?”

“Don’t rightly know yet. Those two have the ranch running smooth as silk.”

While overseas, he’d given it a lot of thought. He loved the land and raising horses, but when he’d returned home three days ago, he wasn’t sure where he fit in the well-oiled machine Sunset Ranch had become. Logan and Luke had been at it a long time, and they had the running of Sunset Ranch, the lucrative Slade horse farm, and Sunset Lodge, an upscale version of a dude ranch, down to a science. Sure, Justin could work with them but not out of necessity. They didn’t really need him.

And since Brett’s death, Justin had been bouncing something around in his head that wouldn’t roll away. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him.

But first, he had to deal with fatherhood.

He glanced at his watch. He had four more hours before his meeting with Kat.

“Well, if you’re of a mind at all for public service, let me toss this suggestion out at you,” the sheriff said. “There’s a county commissioner’s seat opening up next month. You’d be perfect for the job. Why, with your background, you’d have pull and influence enough to get a lot of things accomplished. Could do a lot of good for the citizens of Douglas County.”

Justin couldn’t believe his ears. “What?”

Sheriff Dunphy’s eyes shone bright as he nodded encouragement. “Jeff Washington, our county assessor, well…he and I were talking about the vacancy and the upcoming special election yesterday. Your name came up first thing.”

Justin began shaking his head. “I’ve been home three days, Robbie, and my name’s coming up for a special election?”

“Well, no, not exactly. Your name came up because we’ve got to clear a date on our calendar. The county’s planning on throwing a parade in your honor.”

Caught off guard, Justin felt the blood drain from his face. He kept his mouth from dropping open, just barely, as humbling astonishment rolled through his gut, making him ready to pop a few more antacids. “I…don’t know what to say. A parade?”

Wasn’t that sort of thing reserved for Olympic champions and, well…Santa?

The last thing Justin wanted was a parade. He didn’t deserve the adoration of the entire county. He’d barely made it home in one piece mentally, and the word hero was reserved for soldiers much braver than he’d ever been.

“Yes, we’re all excited about it. But it’s gonna take a while to pull it off. Douglas County wants to welcome their hero home in style. We’ve got three high school bands practicing, a news crew alerted and the county’s Women’s Association and the Boy Scouts working together to build you a float.”

Holy crap.

A thought flitted into his head and he turned a suspicious eye on the sheriff. “You didn’t just bump into me today, did you, Robbie?”

“Of course I did. I would never abuse my authority by having patrol cars give me your location or anything.” The sheriff’s wry smile said the exact opposite.

Robbie was a sly one, not as Gomer Pyle–ignorant as he had people believing.

Amber strolled over, carrying a tray with two dishes of fried chicken, potatoes and gravy. She set the plates down on the table and smiled at him. “Here you go, Justin. Meal’s on the house, too. It’s my way of saying thank you for your service to the country.”

Robbie Dunphy rubbed his hands together, peering at his plate with boyish glee. “Looks delicious, doesn’t it, Justin?”

Justin stared at the food for a second and then raised his eyes to Amber, who patiently waited for his approval. “Sure does, Amber. Thank you.”

“And while we’re eating,” Robbie said to Amber, “Justin’s gonna think about becoming Douglas County’s new district commissioner.”

“That’s wonderful. Well, you two take all the time you need.”

After Amber walked off, Justin finished his ale and leaned forward in his chair. “Robbie, I know you mean well, but I’m not ready to make any decisions about my future just yet. The one thing I do know is that I’m not a politician. No way. No how.”

He didn’t want a parade in his honor, either, but Justin couldn’t bring himself to call it off. There were already too many people involved. Douglas County had been good to the Slades over the years, and Justin wouldn’t insult the citizens by telling them he’d rather be face-to-face with a rattlesnake than sitting on a float, waving to people who’d come out to pay him tribute.

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It wasn’t until he pulled through the gates of Sunset Ranch that Justin’s muscles began to relax. Spirited mares and stallions dotted the pastures along the drive toward the house. The acreage was fertile here, the soil nurtured by runoff from the Sierra Nevadas and rain plentiful enough to keep the pastures green most of the year. Justin inhaled the scent of alfalfa and manure, of leather and earth, as he approached the one-story Slade house and parked the truck.

He’d always loved his childhood home and since returning he felt a greater appreciation for the freedoms and privileges life brought to him. He’d been in hellholes, seen danger and atrocity at its worst and survived, though not without some painful internal scars. The place he’d come from in the Middle East seemed far removed from life on Sunset Ranch.