the kitchen window. Fists clenched at her sides, she stomped toward the foreman’s trailer like a mad bull. The blond ponytail bobbed through the hole in the back of a hot-pink bill cap, and her white tennis shoes churned the ankle-high grass.
Ty leaned forward to watch, and a grin broke through his somber thoughts. Jiminy Christmas, that woman gave off sparks!
She bounded up the steps and stormed inside the trailer, ready to do battle in the name of family honor. Crazy woman. If only she knew the truth. But she and old Pete had tiptoed around each other’s feelings as long as he could remember. Each thought the other expected perfection, and perfection was damnably hard to live up to.
He wondered what they’d do if he went over there right now, sat down at the table and made them both listen to the truth. He couldn’t of course. Pete had made him promise.
“Just look at this place,” Kara muttered as she eyed the old trailer house with disdain. The once maroon paint had faded to a dull violet. The skirting was pushed in at one side. The front door sagged. Even the lilacs blooming by the steps needed pruning. And to think her father had exchanged his beloved ranch house for this decrepit-looking old trailer. If she hadn’t already been furious, the notion would have made her mad enough to spit nails.
Well, the trailer would have to do for both of them. Until she could figure out a way to get the ranch back from that smirking maniac, she had no choice but to stay on the premises. Who knew what madness Murdock might dream up if left to his own devices? Though she didn’t want to stay anywhere near the black-eyed devil, if she left now, Lane would never own what was rightfully his. And Ty Murdock would steal another piece of her life. She and her dad would do just fine in the trailer until this thing was settled, and Murdock was gone for good. Even at that she’d have to work quickly. Though Lane was in good hands with her roommate Marietta, Kara had no intention of staying away from her son more than a few days. Bringing him to the ranch near Murdock was out of the question.
Stomping up the wooden steps, Kara yanked at the storm door. It stuck. She yanked again, viciously this time, and when the door gave without warning, she found herself backing rapidly down the steps. Somehow she managed to hang on to the door handle and pull herself back onto the porch.
With a beleaguered sigh she opened the inner door and was greeted by the yeasty scent of homemade bread. Sally, whoever she was, had just gone up a notch in Kara’s estimation.
Inside the tiny, cramped trailer, Pete’s familiar old recliner was settled beneath the west window, and Pete was in it. Kara couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Her father looked as content as a cat in a sunny windowsill.
“Well, I see you got over your fit long enough to come eat.” Pete flexed his knees, popping the footrest back into the chair. “Hope you got that out of your system. A man don’t appreciate being took to task in front of another man.”
That insufferable pride. Kara shook her head, the guilt of embarrassing him stronger than her need to be right.
“I’m sorry, Dad. Ty Murdock just makes me so mad.”
“Always could make you madder or happier than any other human being around.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Uh-huh.” He scrubbed at his whiskers with one hand. “More reason for the two of you to get along now. Especially since he’s the new boss around here.” He held up one hand. “Now don’t start in on me. I won’t back down from a debt, and you know it.”
“I don’t understand you, Dad. How can you let a lifetime of hard work and memories go without a fight?”
“I’m not going to fuss with you about this, girl. Now, that’s the end of it.”
Kara clapped her lips together and fumed.
“Stop your stewing and come meet Sally.”
A gentle-faced woman with salt-and-pepper hair rounded the kitchen and stepped into the living area. A slight flush graced her plump cheeks, and the thought that she was obviously anxious about meeting Pete’s daughter caused no little speculation in Kara’s mind.
The two women exchanged greetings, then Kara said, “I do hope that bread is for lunch. My mouth has been watering since I opened the door.”
Sally smiled her appreciation. “As a matter-of-fact, lunch is ready. Come sit.”
As they settled at the table, the older couple looked at each other, their eyes holding for several seconds. Kara watched transfixed at the gentle expression on her father’s face. What was going on here?
Pete chose that moment to clear his throat. “Kara, honey, there’s something me and Sally want you to know.”
Unease tightened Kara’s chest. She watched the pair over the rim of her tea glass.
“The two of us…Sally and me…we’re keeping company.”
Keeping company? Did that mean what she thought it meant?
Before she could ask, Pete rose from his chair, circled the table and placed both hands on Sally’s shoulders. His fingers looked worn and gnarled against the flowered print of Sally’s cotton blouse.
“Sally’s been living here in the trailer and cooking for me over to the ranch. What with Ty taking over and all, well…”
Realization dawned. Sally and Pete were living together.
While she and her son were struggling through life, biding time until they could come home for good, her father had fallen in love. Part of her resented Sally for taking her mother’s place, and part of her was glad to see her father happy. Still, finding out that her father had a paramour was a shock. Worse yet, she couldn’t imagine asking Pete to let her stay in the cramped little trailer with him and his lady friend.
Another half hour passed before lunch was over and Kara found a reasonable excuse to exit the trailer. Thanks to Ty and her father, she had a lot of thinking to do, and the only place left to do it was the horse barn.
A long breezeway separated the two sides of the barn, stalls lining each side. In bad weather the breezeway could be closed off, but today, fresh spring air swept through, stirring the smell of horse and hay. Kara drew in the scent as if it were roses. A familiar equine head poked over the third stall and whinnied in greeting.
“Taffy.” Kara rubbed a hand over the velvety nose. A barrel racer, Taffy had been Kara’s faithful friend throughout her high school years.
Kara lifted the latch and slid inside the stall, automatically reaching for the currycomb hanging on the wall. With slow, steady strokes she groomed the animal, letting the rhythmic motion soothe her jangled nerves just as it always had.
“You’ve got a lot of tangles here,” she said, pulling the comb through the mare’s winter mane. “And so do I.”
Unfortunately, the mare’s tangles were more easily remedied than Kara’s. She couldn’t leave until this ownership fuss was settled, but there was no place for her to stay in the meantime.
The trailer was out, leaving only the house, the barn or the back seat of her car, none of which sounded too appealing. She’d come home fully expecting her old room to be ready and waiting as usual.
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