Betsy Amant - The Rancher Next Door

He urged Nugget into a lope and rocked along with the familiar, comforting gait. He might be calloused from life, but he wasn’t totally hard-hearted.

Yet, anyway.

Chapter Two

“This box is marked bath towels, but it’s full of Christmas ornaments.” Ava held up a giant cupcake ornament. The pink-and-green icing sparkled under the light from the dusty ceiling fan overhead as it twirled from her finger.

Caley propped her favorite—and only—painting against the living room wall and strode across the matted carpet to peer inside Ava’s box. “You’re right. I must have mixed them up last time I packed. So I guess the box marked ornaments is full of—”

“Dish towels?” Ava supplied.

Caley grinned. “I was going to guess silverware.”

Ava snorted. “How often do you move, anyway?” She held a smaller box up for Caley to see how worn the bottom was. “Some of these boxes look...tired.”

That was putting it nicely. “Pretty often. I like to travel, keep things interesting.” More like keep from feeling too much, remembering. Regretting.

“That sounds like fun.” Ava nestled the cupcake ornament back into the tissue paper, and folded the box shut. “We hardly ever leave the ranch. I know Dad would never move anywhere.”

“What about vacations?” Caley found a box marked cleaning supplies and dug inside for a duster to clean the fan. She came up with a hammer instead, which she laid on the floor beside her beloved picture of a firefighter. She’d hang it later. “Do you and your dad ever take trips together?”

“We went to Dallas last year for a weekend, and he bought me some new shoes.” Ava closed the ornament box and set it gently against the far wall, out of the way.

Dallas? That was maybe four hours away. Not much of a vacation—especially considering Brady could get Ava shoes at Walmart one county over. No wonder Ava and her dad seemed so strained. Did he ever take time away from the ranch to just hang out with her?

But it really wasn’t Caley’s business—however much she wanted to make it so. Don’t get involved. You’re not going to be here long enough to make it count. Story of her life. But it was safer that way. The fewer people whose lives she impacted personally, the better off they were. She’d stick to saving lives via the anonymity of the fire department. The emotional connections she’d leave up to someone else.

“I’ve been asking for a trip to Disney World for my birthday next year, but Dad says he can’t leave the ranch for that long. Not even with Uncle Max here to help.” Ava tossed a red throw pillow onto the worn blue love seat and shrugged as though it didn’t matter.

But Caley knew from experience it did. Would things have been different between her and her own father growing up if he’d invested time in the little things after Mom left? Into the fun stuff that made memories? Instead, Caley grew up and had to go make her own memories alone. The first time she skydived, she’d been about ready to lose her breakfast inside the plane, but the thrill of the adventure to come pressed her forward. Why couldn’t her father have ever taken the opportunity to be spontaneous? To trust? To live?

He couldn’t do any of those things now, not from the Broken Bend graveyard twelve miles up the road. Regret rolled over in its familiar spot in her stomach. Her childhood might not have been ideal, but she still wished she had been given one more chance to redeem it.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late for her and Nonie.

“You must really like firefighters.” Ava lifted a decorative candle engraved with the Maltese cross from a box and wiggled it at Caley, shaking her from her negative track of thoughts. “First that giant picture, now this.”

“That’s because I am one.” She winked and set the candle on a shelf built above the TV stand.

“Awesome.” Ava stared at Caley with newfound respect.

She bit back a snort. Too bad adults weren’t as easily impressed with female firefighters.

Ava continued with her awestruck gaze. “Do you really put fires out and everything?”

“Yes, and help people who are hurt.” She took the lid off a flat storage bin and grinned at Ava. “Hey, I found the silverware.”

Ava scooted over to her and rummaged through the box. “And your alarm clock.” She giggled.

“Next move, I’ll be better organized.” Definitely couldn’t be worse. She hefted the box onto her hip and moved into the open kitchen to begin loading the drawers. “Why don’t you go plug the clock into the outlet by the mattress?” She didn’t own an actual bed; it was too complicated since she moved so often. A mattress on the floor with a pile of her grandmother’s old-fashioned quilts worked just as well, and the early memories those blankets stirred up kept her warmer than any down comforter could.

“You should definitely get more organized, but I hope you don’t move again soon.” Ava hesitated in the doorway separating Caley’s bedroom from the living room. She ducked her head a little, the expression in her eyes cautious, yet sincere. “You’re really fun.” She offered a slight smile before disappearing around the corner with the clock.

Caley’s hands stilled on the pile of silverware she’d been separating into the divider. She didn’t know how long she’d have to stay in Broken Bend, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good to get attached. Still, something about Ava drew her like a magnet—or maybe more like a mama duck to a duckling. She’d read enough self-help books over the years, though, to know that butting into Ava’s life in some pathetic effort to make up for her own childhood wouldn’t accomplish anything.

And as for Ava’s dad—well, Caley couldn’t think about that particular connection. Mama duckling was one thing, but the attraction she’d felt at first sight for Brady McCollough was certainly nothing to pursue. She’d do everyone a favor if she kept to herself and stayed as invisible as possible while she did her time in Broken Bend. Soon enough she’d be somewhere else, a distant memory of a fun neighbor Ava once had. Maybe she could leave some good behind her before she went.

But she was definitely going.

“Look what I found! Kitchen towels!” Ava rushed into the kitchen with a box labeled dishes in bold marker and grinned.

“Good job, detective. They can go in here.” Caley laughed as she pulled open a drawer, and Ava began filling it with the assortment of mismatched rags.

The younger girl paused and squinted, lips twitched to one side. “So do you think the box marked dishes will have bathroom towels in it?”

“You know what?” Caley shut the silverware drawer with her hip and wrapped one arm around Ava, joy filling her heart despite her earlier reservations. She squeezed Ava tight and grinned, determined not to let the inevitable spoil the moment. “I think you’re catching on.”

* * *

Brady knocked on Caley’s front door, then stepped back while he waited. Scooter pranced at his feet, shamelessly begging for a treat. Caley must have left him outside while they unpacked. From the holes the dog had already dug in the poor excuse for a flowerbed by the porch, that had probably been a good idea.

Loud laughter suddenly rang from inside the house, followed by a blast of country music. Brady frowned and knocked again. Mary would have supper ready any minute, and after the afternoon he had spent on the phone, scrambling to find a temporary babysitter, he was ready to sit, eat—and pray for mercy.

The door swung open, offering a rush of boot-scootin’ lyrics and Ava’s wide white grin. But her face morphed into panic as their eyes locked. “Dad! I was going to come home on time, I promise.” She looked at her wrist, but must have forgotten her watch, because her arm was bare. She rubbed the spot it should have rested and turned pleading eyes to him.