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They’d reached a reasonable peace when Josie discovered she could help him if she distracted him with farming questions. When Everett thought she needed his help, he was far more gracious about accepting hers. She was having fun getting to know him, in fact. And he’d invited her to sell some of Hailey’s peaches at the Rough Hollow Orchards farm stand next weekend, insisting Hailey would want her to keep the money since she’d be doing all the picking herself.
Josie looked forward to that. And she didn’t feel like sharing her new friend with an outsider grandson who hadn’t been bothered to come home before now. She needed the peace this place offered to overcome a betrayal of trust that had left a significant dent in her confidence.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, focusing on the scents of a world washed clean around her so she could ignore the anxiety she felt about anyone imposing on the peaceful haven she’d found in Last Stand, Texas. She felt safe here.
She’d ignored her instincts the last time a stranger came calling—back in her old life, where her mother laughed at her for having too many “irrational fears.” She’d let herself be wooed by a handsome swindler who sweet-talked his way past her defenses, and painted a picture of a life for the two of them on the other side of the globe, where they would protect the whales, clean the waters, and make fish safe again. He hadn’t realized how thoroughly ready she’d been to escape her life in the first place, and the daily strain of working for her emotionally unstable mother.
But the money and the man both vanished the moment she’d clicked “send” at Western Union. The local news outlets who’d gotten wind of her folly all agreed she’d fallen for a classic con. Her naïveté had made for a handful of entertaining headlines in her Florida hometown. She was a cautionary tale now. A caretaker for three months because she had nothing left of her own.
Not even her job, since her mother had fired Josie from the work she’d done—for a pittance—since she was a teen, acting as property manager for the low-income housing building her mom had inherited from a relative. The job had always put Josie between a rock and a hard place with tenants who needed things fixed and a building owner who refused to invest a nickel in repairs. She’d wanted out of that position for years, and that had been the real reason she’d risked everything to trust the swindler. She’d seen the life he offered her as a better option. And when her mother realized how serious she’d been about leaving the job, all hell had broken loose.
In her tirade, her mom had threatened to turn Josie in for doing contracting work without a license. Grossly unfair, considering her mother had been the one who’d always told her to find a way to fix things herself if she wanted better conditions for the tenants. But Josie looked up the penalty for that kind of charge, and it could be serious.
Although right now, she was a world away from all that stress and anger. She’d bought a new cell phone and no one knew where to find her. She hoped, in time, the argument would blow over.
Sipping her cooling tea from the dark brown stoneware mug, she stroked Kungfu’s fur and reminded herself she was okay. Sure her bank account was empty, but she was free now. Away from the toxic relationship she had with her mom. On her own, she could experience perfect moments like this one—seated on a porch swing after a rainstorm, counting fireflies while the moon rose high.
Still, she hoped the universe didn’t test her any more this year. Because she really, really wasn’t ready to deal with a stranger showing up at the door.
*
Long past midnight,Cal slid his key into the back door of the old country farmhouse where he’d been raised. A house now occupied solely by his mother since she’d divorced his dad and vacated the over-the-top mansion Clint Ramsey had built after retiring from baseball. Like his siblings, Cal felt far more at home here, next door to his grandfather’s farm, on the property where Ramseys had lived since Last Stand became a town.
He’d driven straight to Last Stand from the airport in Houston once he’d made his mind up to come home after spending the last two weeks in Mexico. Only one of them sober.
Since he’d never been a drinker as a professional athlete, he’d felt entitled to all the tequila he could handle to toast the end of his career. He’d cleared waivers and remained unclaimed three weeks after he’d been designated for assignment. Barring a miracle, he was out of baseball for good. Now, stepping silently onto the braid rug inside the kitchen, he was just about to help himself to whatever leftovers were in his mother’s refrigerator when the barking started.
Deep-throated woofs mingled with high-pitched yaps. Nails scrambled on hardwood as the race was on to see who was at the door. Cal cursed himself for not remembering that his mother kept a pack of dogs around at all times. So much for not waking her.
Would any of the mutts remember him from the last time he’d visited her here? Two years ago, he guessed.
Probably not when he hadn’t recalled them either.
The pack descended the stairs and skidded around the corner, a little tornado of white fluff leading the way. Two excited Lab mixes galloped behind it. Relieved his mom hadn’t taken in any super protective guard breeds, he relaxed a fraction.
“Take it easy, guys,” Cal cautioned them, extending a hand for the bigger dogs to sniff while the little one alternated growling and jumping. “Put a sock in it and I’ll share whatever I find in the fridge.”
The Labs sat attentively the moment he reached for the handle of the stainless-steel refrigerator, their tails wagging in almost perfect synch. The fluff ball darted between his feet as if it wanted first peek at what was inside.
Perplexed at the almost completely bare shelves, Cal tugged open all the empty drawers and heard a floorboard creak overhead, not surprised the racket had woken his mom.
He stared at the quart of strawberries and bundle of asparagus, both clearly picked from her garden. He couldn’t recall a time in his life when he’d shown up at his mom’s house without a homemade pie or bread lurking somewhere. A leftover soup or pasta dish. A container of cookies in the freezer.
“Damn.” He scratched the littlest of the dogs on top of her furry head while the animal stood with her paws in the base of the barren wasteland masquerading as a fridge. “Either Mom’s been abducted by aliens or she’s selling this refrigerator.”
Tipping the door closed, he heard an ominous metallic click behind him, followed by a hoarse feminine voice.
“Turn around slowly,” a woman who was not his mom rasped. “And show me some identification or I’ll call the cops.”
Cal peered behind him while the dogs defected to the newcomer’s side.
Because there, standing behind him with an ancient .22 caliber rifle pointed at his chest and wearing his mother’s bathrobe, was a woman he’d never seen in his life. Dark hair stuck out from her head at all angles. She looked young and possibly hot, but his brain drew boundaries at anything wearing his mother’s robe.
Also, his grandfather’s hunting rifle deterred normal male thoughts.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, lifting his hands over his head since that felt like a more natural response to a gun in his face than digging for his ID.
Besides, the woman shook like a leaf as if she was the terrified one even though she was holding the weapon. He figured he’d better not make any startling moves or he’d end up with a hole in him. Possibly worse.
