Jeannie Watt - Crossing Nevada

“You can text her,” Zach said. Emma immediately headed off to the house. “But she may not get done with her class before the store closes,” Zach called after her.

“Wal-Mart doesn’t close,” Darcy said.

Zach kept forgetting that. “Well, once upon a time stores did close,” he said.

Darcy cocked her head. “And you remember those days? Man, Dad. You’re old.” Zach grinned as they walked toward the lawn where Lizzie’s bike lay on its side.

“Yeah, and I feel it every year.”

“Is that a gray hair there?” she asked.

“You should know,” Zach replied. “You probably put it there.”

“So how’d the pasture thing work out?” Darcy asked casually, hooking her thumbs in her front jeans pockets.

“What pasture thing?” Zach asked slowly.

“You know...the pasture across the road. The one the lady wouldn’t let you rent.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Tia was talking to Mrs. Bishop about it.”

“Did Beth Ann or Mrs. Bishop know you were there?”

Darcy shook her head. “If they know I’m there, then I don’t hear any good stuff.”

Lizzie came wobbling around the corner of the house before he could answer, perched on Darcy’s bike, the tips of her toes barely reaching the pedals. Benny the collie bounded alongside her.

“Don’t wave,” Zach said as her little hand lifted a few inches off the handlebar. She immediately clamped it back down as the bike wobbled dangerously. Both he and Darcy took a quick step forward, but Lizzie regained control and pedaled on, Benny right behind her. Zach hoped they had some Band-Aids on hand.

“She thinks she’s so cool now that she’s in the first grade,” Darcy said.

“Yeah. I don’t know anyone else who ever felt that way.”

“Come on, Dad. I was a serious student. Lizzie is all about having a good time.” Darcy’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses as she glanced sideways at her father. He shook his head and then picked up Lizzie’s bike from where it lay in the grass and tipped it upside down so he could take off the tire.

“I think this is beyond a patch kit,” Zach said. “We’ll have to get another tube.”

“Should I text Tia again?” Emma asked, having just stepped out onto the porch.

“No. I’ll get one when I go to town tomorrow.” He wasn’t going to have Beth Ann chasing all over Wesley looking for inner tubes when she no doubt had class work to do when she got home.

“But—” Emma started, only to be interrupted by her older sister.

“We can walk home,” Darcy said.

* * *

TESS FELL ASLEEP in the chair watching television, the sound turned down so low she practically had to read lips to understand the action. She hadn’t counted on sleeping at all—at least not until daybreak, which was the usual time she fell asleep. But despite the cowboy’s visit, despite the shower scare, she conked out sometime in the early-morning hours, only to be startled awake sometime after sunrise by the dogs scrambling to their feet and racing for the back door.

Tess tumbled out of the chair, tripping over the fleece blanket she’d been nestled under and going down hard on her knees. And then, during a brief lull in the canine uproar in the kitchen, she heard the girls’ voices.

This was ridiculous. There was no reason for those kids to cut across her property. It was, after all, hers.

She started for the back door, then stopped when she saw how far away the three girls were. She’d have to run after them if she wanted to warn them off and that smacked of crazy. She wanted to keep them off her property, not scare the daylights out of them...although that probably would keep them off her property. Something to consider.

She gripped the door frame and watched as they disappeared around a thicket of willows growing along the creek. No. She’d wait until they passed by again. From the time frame, it seemed logical that they were traveling to and from school. Yesterday they’d showed up around three. She’d make certain she wasn’t in the shower at that time and if they passed by again, well, the four of them would have a chat about the meaning of private property.

* * *

ZACH LEFT THE hospital clutching a sheaf of papers. No, the accounts manager would not decrease his payment amount temporarily—even if cow prices were down. They suggested he take out a loan. Well, that was a fine idea, except that he refused to put his land, the one thing he would be able to give the girls, up for collateral.

That had been a rough enough pill to swallow, but then, on the way out of the expensive new hospital addition that he was helping to pay for, Marcela James, the hospital administrator, had collared him. He thought for one brief happy moment that perhaps she’d heard about his visit to the accounting office and was there to offer a reprieve, but no. Instead she cheerfully told him that if he wanted to sell that forty-acre parcel her husband had once approached him about, they’d still be happy to buy it.

Zach had smiled and nodded while thinking, “When hell freezes over.”

Leave it to the Jameses to hit a guy when he was down. Zach was not parceling up his ranch. Not until he got backed into a tighter corner than he was in now—although the way things were going, that might be tomorrow.

He pressed his fist against his sternum, trying to ease the dull stress-induced ache. All he needed was to keel over from a heart attack. That’d help the girls a whole bunch.

Zach unlocked the truck, then pulled the list out of his jeans pocket and gave it a shake to straighten it out. Bike tire was at the top. Beneath that purple dye. Even though Beth Ann insisted that Lizzie was spoiled, and Zach did not disagree, Beth Ann had agreed to try to dye the coat. Lizzie understood that she might end up with a muddy gray mess, but she was willing to take the chance. Someday Zach would have a heart-to-heart and find out why his youngest daughter hated red.

* * *

BEFORE MOVING TO the boonies, Tess had had no inkling that the simple act of sanding wood, of doing something with her hands other than sketching, could be such a sanity saver. Usually the steady rhythm soothed her, but today she sanded for less than an hour before she decided to give it up for the day and investigate possible at-home careers. The non-scam kind.

It’d been a project she’d been putting off because she was afraid of reality—as in, there probably wasn’t anything she could do to make a living at home. Oh, there were jobs. Medical transcriptionist. Technical writer. Data entry. Phone surveyor. But nothing jumped out at her, mainly because she had no formal training beyond a high school diploma and an impressive modeling portfolio. She wasn’t qualified for a hell of a lot, except perhaps phone surveyor.

You have time to figure this out...

But how much time? Especially if she had to train for something. She still had nearly a hundred grand in her LLC account after buying the ranch; however, simple math indicated that if she spent only the bare minimum, she could last maybe eight years. And that was if she didn’t buy a newer car, had no increase in costs and was stingy with the electricity. Not exactly the way she wanted to live.

Ironically she’d given some thought to investigating second careers a few months ago. Almost ten years had passed since she’d been signed by the Dresden Modeling Agency, a near miracle which she credited to her unusual celadon-green eyes and the cheekbones she’d inherited from her Irish grandmother. Models didn’t necessarily have to disappear in their late twenties anymore, but some of Tess’s longtime associates had started losing work and she was not one to ignore warning signs. And then, amazingly, she’d made the short list for the Face of Savoy Cosmetics campaign and all thoughts of investigating a second career were put on hold while she waited for an answer.