Claire McEwen - Home Free

Mandy tossed the cloth onto the heap in the back of her truck and went inside to find her father. He was folding the rental tables and leaning them in neat stacks along the barn wall.

“I can ask one of the hands to finish those tomorrow, Daddy.”

Her dad tipped another table on its side. “I may not be ranching anymore, but I’m still able. Tracy’s got me going to the gym.”

His new wife bustled up, a round figure in bright clothing and dyed-red hair. When Mandy found out her dad was in love, she’d pictured someone more like her willowy, dreamy mom. Tracy couldn’t be more opposite. She reminded Mandy of a plump parrot. Even her voice was chirpy. “Let’s finish up, honey. We should get on the road to Reno.”

Mandy snuffed a flicker of resentment. They’d only flown in yesterday. She’d hoped for more time with her father. But Tracy was clearly in charge of their relationship.

“I guess you’re right.” Her dad’s voice echoed a little of Mandy’s gloom as he set the table on the stack. “I think I’m just having trouble accepting that one of my babies is married.”

“It’s wonderful,” Tracy cooed. “They’re happy. Just like we are.”

Mandy reached for a box of flower arrangements, walking them out to the truck to hide the emotion rolling over her. What was wrong with her? Her mom had died over a decade ago. Her dad had raised Mandy and Lori on his own and battled depression, as well. He deserved to be happy. She should be happy for him.

Her father and Tracy followed her out to the truck. “Today has made me want a party of our own, honey.” Tracy clung to her husband’s elbow. “Maybe we could have a reception? Since ours was only a courthouse wedding?” Her bright eyes flitted to Mandy. “You’d come celebrate with us, right?”

Florida. Mandy had never been. Flamingos, alligators and palm trees. That was how she imagined it. It all sounded good—except the alligators. “Of course.”

Her dad’s hand reached out to cover Mandy’s in familiar comfort. “And what about you? Anyone special in your life?”

Mandy had been ducking this question all day from well-meaning friends and relatives. “You know me, Daddy. I prefer quiet life here on the ranch. And no one’s come knocking on my door.”

His frown weighed on her. “You’re young. You should get out more.”

“I go out sometimes. But I’m busy. I have my chickens, my strays, the ranch and my baking business. There just aren’t enough hours in the day.”

Her dad squeezed her hand and let go. “Well, if you’re happy, then I am. But it’s not just about finding someone special. You should be following your dreams. Especially now that Lori is married. She and Wade will combine the ranches and run them just fine as one. But that’s not your dream, honey. It never was. You should find out what you really want to do.”

Her cheeks went hot. Did he really see her as that lost? “I am doing what I want to do.”

“That’s great.” He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “You know, if you want to open up a bakery in town, Benson sure could use one. Maybe I could help out with the initial costs. Or help you get a loan.”

Money, planning, decision making. It all loomed in a thick and impenetrable wall. Just like it did every time Mandy thought about opening a real bakery. Anxiety threaded through her, pulling tension, making knots. “Thank you.” She gave him a big hug, relishing his warm strength. “I’ll think about it.”

The weatherworn lines of her father’s face creased into a smile as he looked down at her. “You just say the word and I’ll do whatever I can.”

All the ways she’d missed him since he started his new life in Florida ached in her heart. She inhaled his familiar scent—pure comfort—and stepped back, looking around the barn before she started bawling like the little girl she felt like. “It’s hard to believe it, but I think we really are done here.”

“You did an incredible job.” Tracy fluttered her fingers toward the barn. “Everything looked gorgeous, and that cake was just out of this world. If you open a bakery, you’ll have people lined up for miles.”

Mandy laughed at that. “I don’t think we have enough people in the town of Benson to make a line much farther than the door, but thank you.”

Her dad glanced at his watch and Mandy’s heart dipped. “You have to get going, don’t you?”

“We do. Our flight is so early, we booked a hotel near the airport for tonight. I wish we could stay longer, but Tracy has to get back to the shop.”

“How’s that going?” Mandy had been so busy the past few days, she hadn’t even thought to ask.

“Oh, it’s amazing.” Tracy’s face lit under all her layers of makeup. “Busy. We get so many tourists on Sanibel Island, and they all want a piece of ocean decor to take home with them.”

“Sounds perfect.” It was hard to imagine her father, the tough rancher, selling seagull statues and shell-shaped ashtrays. More evidence that Mandy’s world had changed completely.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay running the ranch solo for a few weeks?”

Her father would stay to help her if she asked. And Mandy really wanted to ask. Not just ask, beg. But she couldn’t. He’d moved to Florida to get away from the ranch and the stress and the pain of losing his first wife. She couldn’t ask him to take all that on again, even for just three weeks.

“I’ll be just fine, Daddy. With Lori gone, it’s my one and only chance to boss the ranch hands around. It will be fun.”

His smile was what she needed. She didn’t want to be a burden to him anymore.

“If you say so, sweetie. But call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do, Daddy. Now let’s get you guys on the road before it gets too dark out there.”

Mandy walked them to their car, cherishing her father’s goodbye hugs, enduring Tracy’s lipstick kisses. She watched them bounce away down the drive in their tiny rental car, turn onto the main road and disappear. The high mountain peaks behind the ranch shone in the last light of the sun, the gold cast making them seem even more ethereal, more unreachable. Jim, the ranch manager, had finished up the feeding a while ago, and the ranch seemed especially quiet. It was just her and the whisper of evening wind in the pines.

She’d done it. She’d given Lori a lovely wedding. But without the adrenaline of party guests and tasks, the last remaining energy in her body evaporated. The two hours of sleep she’d had in the past twenty-four hours fizzed out. She stumbled to the truck, almost too tired to miss Lori or her dad. Almost too tired to feel the loneliness of the empty ranch and the mountain night. Almost too tired to feed the stray cats and Lori’s dog. Definitely too tired to think about the way life had moved one step farther today, leaving her here alone on the empty ranch.

* * *

DURING ALMOST A decade in prison, Arch had never once thought he’d come home to Marker Ranch. But here he was, standing in the gravel driveway in front of the saggy farmhouse, apprehension thickening the air and memories creeping across his skin.

There was the old wicker chair, still on the porch, where his dad used to sit in the evenings. He’d nurse the bottle of JD in his hands and deliver slurred lectures to Arch and his brother Blake, schooling them in the finer points of running a con, stealing a car, manufacturing meth.

Most parents taught their kids right from wrong. What kind of father groomed his sons to be criminals? Anger simmered and Arch exhaled, trying to let it go. It was old poison. And he couldn’t pass on all the blame. His dad might have offered him a toxic brew, but he’d chosen to drink it down.

“It’s weird coming back, isn’t it?”