Jessica Keller - Home for Good

She sighed. If Ali could have her way, she’d stay on Denny’s back and ride off into the horizon like the heroes did in those Old West movies. No stress. No responsibilities.

“You’re better than any therapist money can buy. Know that, Denny?” His giant fuzz-covered ears swiveled like a radar to hear her better.

“What are we going to do, huh, bud?” Swinging out of the saddle, she stood beside him, tracing her fingers against the yellow-gold hair covering his withers. He nudged his forehead into her shoulder, and she laughed. “You know I have a carrot in my pocket, don’t you?” She pulled out the offering, giggling as his big lips grabbed the food. The warmth of his breath on her fingertips was as comforting as a loving mother’s arms.

What would she do about Tripp Phillips’s attention toward her? Ali rubbed her temples. She didn’t want that. Not with Tripp. Not with any man. Marriage? No, thank you. But she didn’t want to lose his friendship, either.

She walked away a few paces, then leaned against the trunk of the largest cottonwood. She slowly let her body slump to the ground. Cocking her knees, she looped her arms on them and looked out across the river as it rippled past. The scene felt familiar, and she instinctively turned and glanced up at the initials Jericho had carved there so many years ago. Funny, the things that could fill her heart with peace. The crudely chipped JF loves AS shouldn’t cause anything to stir in her, but it did nonetheless.

What was she going to do about that man?

Denny nickered, as if reminding her of her real purpose. “Thanks, bud.” She pulled the now crumpled warning letter from her back pocket and smoothed it over her thighs.

If you value what’s important to you, you’ll stay away from him. You’ve been warned.

No more threats had arrived. But that morning, Rider had reported that their fence line bore malicious damage. This time it caused one of the heifers to tumble to her death in the gully. Ali couldn’t afford to lose any of the stock so carelessly.

It had been alarming enough to find all the horses in the front yard yesterday morning, and she’d wasted hours catching them. One stall left unhitched, she could believe. But ten stalls unlocked and the barn door left wide open? No coincidence, especially since Ali had been the one to lock the barn last night. And, although she wouldn’t give fear lease enough to voice it, she thought she’d heard something outside the house while she lay in bed.

Nine years ago, I made a promise to protect you.

Startled by Jericho’s voice in her mind, she pushed it away and tried to focus on a solution. One he was not a part of. Wasn’t his presence the cause of all the problems anyway? The answer was simple—get rid of Jericho. If he left her alone, this magazine-gluing maniac would stop pestering her.

What Jericho had to say didn’t matter. It also didn’t matter that he’d showed up this morning on the steps with a giant bouquet of her favorite flower—he’d remembered about the daisies. Nor did it matter that, even now, he buried his biceps in grease, putting her truck’s engine back together. Nor that Chance’s eyes lit up at the sight of the man.

Ali looked at the sky to keep the wetness from trickling out of her eyes.

She shoved the letter again into her pocket and clicked her tongue to call Denny back to her side. Running a hand down his glossy muzzle, she leaned her forehead against his face.

“And it doesn’t matter that it still feels like my heart’s a hummingbird stuck in my rib cage each time I see him. Or that he really does seem changed. The ranch. Chance and Kate. Protecting them. That’s what’s most important, right?” Holding his bridle, she stepped away. His gentle eyes, fringed with thick black lashes, surveyed her for one long moment before blinking.

Climbing back into a saddle that felt more like home than any other place on God’s green earth, Ali gave Denny his head. He cantered across the field as if he knew she needed the easy back-and-forth rocking motion to cradle her lost hope one last time.

Jericho Freed needed to leave. For good.

* * *

Denny plunged his lips into the trough. “Go easy, big guy. No colic for you.”

“Hey, Mom!” Chance showed up at her elbow. He gave Denny’s thigh three solid pats.

“Hey there, Chance-man.” She ran a hand over her son’s hair that stuck up at all angles. “Where’s your aunt?”

Chance rolled his eyes and grabbed the edge of the trough. He used it as leverage and swung side to side. “She’s making rhubarb jam. Bor-ing. And I told her that, so she banished me from the kitchen.”

“Banished you, huh?”

“Yeah, but Jericho said he could use my help, and he showed me how to fix your truck. Then we changed the oil. Good thing I was there to hand him all the tools. Did you know how dirty your engine was, Mom? Major gross-out. Jericho had to use lots of rags just to see stuff.” His earnest little expression made Ali bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling at him.

She nodded solemnly. “That sounds serious.”

Handing him Denny’s lead, Chance fell into step beside her toward the corral. “And then he fixed a bunch of stuff on our truck.”

“A bunch?” Ali wrinkled her nose.

“Yes. You’re lucky he had so many tools in his car. He said—” Chance dropped his voice to imitate Jericho’s “—‘We’ve got to keep your mom safe. Got to fix all these things.’” Chance shrugged. “Then he did.”

Great. What was he trying to do, heap coals upon her head? He was supposed to leave, not make her truck purr.

“I know a secret, Mom. Jericho told me.”

Ali grabbed her son’s shoulder and clamped down. There was only one secret Jericho would have involving Chance. No. He wouldn’t—would he? “Secret?” she croaked.

“You have to promise you won’t tell him I told.”

“I promise. What is it?”

“I told Jericho that I like Samantha.”

Ali’s heart started beating again. “Oh, honey, you told me that months ago.”

“That’s not the secret.”

“What is, then?”

“Jericho said you were pretty.”

Ali rolled her eyes. “Secret’s out. He told me that, too.”

“But then I told him if he thinks that, he should marry you.”

“You didn’t!”

Chance gave two nods. “He said he liked that marrying part.”

She popped a hand on her hip. “And where is Mr. Jericho right now?”

“He had to clean up, so I told him to use the hose out back and not to go in the house because I knew you’d yell at him. Remember when Drover and I played in the puddle and then we went in the kitchen and you were so mad you turned red? I told Jericho about that, and he said he’d better take his chances with the cold hose.”

“He did, did he? Hey, can you do me a huge favor and find Rider for me? Let him know I need to talk to him about the fences.”

The ranch—and maybe Chance—were in danger. If Jericho wanted to keep them safe, he needed to leave them alone. That thought propelled her forward. Drover trotted beside her, banging into her leg as Ali rounded the back of the house.

* * *

Jericho crouched. With the hose pressed between his arm and side, water splashed out in front of him. He rubbed his grease-covered hands together under the stream.

The Silvers’ dog, Drover, pounced forward, snapping at the fountain. “Crazy dog. You’re going to get all wet.” Jericho laughed and backed up, right into someone. He peeked over his shoulder and spotted Ali, her eyes wide as the moon in surprise. Looking all cute and startled.

“Oh. Sorry.” He dropped the hose and it sprayed into the air like a geyser, soaking his jeans and shooting at Ali in the process.