The Ranch She Left Behind. Kathleen O'Brien

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but it suited Penny. It put pink in her cheeks and blue in her eyes.

      Or had that impulsive ice-cream kiss done those things?

      It didn’t matter. She was happy, and she was comfortable in her own skin, her own clothes, for the first time in a long time. She didn’t even care that she had worn no makeup—she rarely did—or that her ponytail had been torn to shreds by the wind through the windows.

      She was ready.

      She pulled into Bell River and drove around back, to the little parking lot. But that was full, so she rounded the house on the other side, till she reached the front. She parked near the new fountain, and then, without thinking much about it, walked all the way to the back again, so that she could enter by the kitchen door.

      Her aversion to the front foyer hadn’t ever subsided, and she wasn’t going to add that to today’s list of hurdles she needed to clear.

      â€œPenny?”

      She had climbed halfway up toward the back porch steps when she heard Rowena’s voice, equal parts shock and delight. “Pea, is it really you?”

      Penny smiled as Ro came rushing through the door, her arms still full of linens she’d obviously been folding. Rowena had always been an uncorked bottle of raw emotion. The difference, now that she’d found true love here in Bell River, was that the emotion bubbling out of her was happiness, not anger.

      â€œWhat on earth are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?” She draped an unfolded sheet across her shoulder like a toga, freeing her arms for hugging. The sheet was warm, straight from the dryer, and smelled sweet and clean.

      â€œI’m sorry,” Penny said. “I wanted to surprise you, so—”

      â€œI’m surprised, all right!” Rowena laughed. “Look at you! You look fantastic!” She smoothed the sleeve of Penny’s dress affectionately, with that big-sister pride, and Penny grinned as if she’d just gotten an A on something important. “But darn it. We’ve got every single room rented out through September. If I’d known you were coming...”

      Rowena frowned, her green eyes fiercely focused on solving the problem immediately. “Let’s see—”

      â€œIt’s okay, Ro.” Penny took a breath. “You see, I’m not—”

      â€œNaw, don’t worry.” Rowena grinned, tucked her hand under Penny’s elbow and led her toward the house. “We’ll think of something. We’ll kick Alec out of his room if we have to. He’s in the doghouse anyhow, for sneaking out last night, and—”

      â€œI did not sneak out! I left a note!” As if out of nowhere, Alec suddenly bounded up the stairs behind them. “Hi, Penny! You can have my room if you want, but I did not sneak out!”

      Penny turned, hardly recognizing the mud ball she saw rushing toward her. Rowena’s new stepson, ten-year-old Alec Garwood, was ordinarily a twinkling, ridiculously handsome four-foot-three hunk of pure mischief. Today, though...

      Today Alec’s clothes and cowboy boots were black, his hands were silver, and his face and hair were gray. At first glance he looked like a statue, but Penny realized quickly that he was covered in mud from head to toe—his thick blond thatch sticking out like a witch’s broom, and his white teeth and blue eyes gleaming from his gray face like jewels embedded in a cave wall.

      He hugged Penny as if everything were perfectly normal, though, and seemed shocked when Rowena cried out in a mixture of laughter and horror. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re going to ruin Pea’s pretty dress!”

      â€œWhy?” Alec reared back, insulted. Then he glanced down at his hands. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Trouble was chasing a duck. I had to stop him. He’s even dirtier than I am.”

      â€œGreat.” Rowena rolled her eyes—but there was no real anger in her voice. From the start, Rowena had doted on this rascally little boy. “That dog’s not coming in the house until he’s clean. And neither are you.” She poked the tip of her index finger onto the center of Alec’s head, and twirled it to signal that he should turn around. “Barn hose. Now.”

      Alec smiled, showing those diamond teeth and cracking the drying mud around his lips. He never minded being scolded, which was a good thing, since he seemed chronically to be in trouble.

      â€œSee you later, Penny,” he said, waving a filthy hand, dislodging gobbets of mud, which then rained onto the porch. “If you use my room, be careful. Definitely don’t open the jar under the bed, okay?”

      â€œOh, my dear Lord.” Rowena laughed out loud. “Scat, you disgusting creature!”

      They both watched the boy trot away, whistling merrily and calling for his dog. He passed Barton James, the general manager Ro had hired last year, and the two high-fived each other. Barton never so much as blinked at the mud that caked the boy.

      â€œPenny!” Barton bounded up the stairs, apparently as delighted to see Penny as if they were best buddies, when actually she’d met him only a couple of times.

      But everyone loved Barton, and Barton loved everyone. She accepted his hug without reservation—laughing when he had to slip his guitar around to his back to make room. How he managed to get so much accomplished, and yet always be strumming some tune on that old thing, no one could ever understand.

      â€œGood thing you’re here,” he said merrily. “I’ve just about got the older two Wright gals married off, and I was wondering who I’d matchmake next.”

      Penny laughed. “Not me,” she assured him. “I’ve sworn off men for an entire year.”

      He frowned, as if she’d said she ate little green Martians for lunch. “Poppycock,” he said. “A year? At your age? Can’t be done.”

      â€œBarton, not everyone is as romantic as you are.” Rowena shook her head. “Hey, see if you can find Bree, okay? Let her know Penny’s come home!”

      â€œDone,” he said. He kissed Penny one more time, then held her at arm’s length, appraising her. “I’m thinking an older man. Not old like me. I wish. But a few years older than you, maybe. Seen the world. Would know how to treat a lady.”

      â€œBarton.” Rowena gave him The Look.

      â€œOkay, okay,” he said, grinning, and then he sauntered off, swinging his guitar back to the front.

      Rowena turned to Penny with a smile. “Sorry about that. He really is such a darling old man. But he can be a bit much sometimes.”

      â€œI love him,” Penny said honestly. Barton was obviously a treasure—the perfect general manager for the ranch. Not only was he a charmer who immediately won over every female guest, he was also a former dude ranch owner himself and knew everything. More than once, he’d kept the neophyte Wright women from making terrible mistakes.

      As

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