He grinned crookedly. “Getting old and grouchy,” he said as he rode along beside her car. “But seeing you here sure brightened my day.”
“Well, thank you. It’s good be ho—here. I’ve missed it.”
His grin faded and he gave her a solemn nod. “Sure am sorry to hear about your mama, girl.”
She put her foot on the brake and the car rolled to a stop. “Thank you. It was a hard time.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that it was,” he said, pulling up on the mare’s reins. “She was a nice woman. She made cookies a time or two for my boy, Hunter. Gosh, he was a little cuss then.”
“I remember. I helped her, Mr. Ward.”
A sweet smile wrinkled his face. “Heck, you’re not fifteen anymore. You can call me Ward. Here comes Hunter now.”
He turned in his saddle just as a younger man approached on a horse. “He was just a kid when you left the ranch. He’s working here with me now and planning on going to Texas A & M in the fall.”
Sophia turned off the engine, and stepped out of the car. The sun beamed down with early afternoon intensity and she shielded her eyes as she gazed up to greet the young man. “So you’re little Hunter. It’s good to see you again.”
He took no offense yet straightened her out good-naturedly. “Not so little anymore, miss.”
No, he wasn’t. Hunter Halliday was taller than his dad and broader in the shoulders. “I can see that.”
“Are you fixin’ on moving in right now?” he asked.
“Yes, I was just on my way to the cottage.”
Ward looked at the boxes in the backseat of her car. “You need help? Hunter will help you unload.”
“Oh, well … I could use a hand, but if you’re busy—”
“I’m not busy at all,” Hunter said. “Mr. Slade sent me out to see if I can help.”
He did? Logan hadn’t seemed to care one bit that Sophia had to move all of her things into the cottage by herself. He hadn’t offered to help, the way a gentleman would, but then she really hadn’t expected much from him. “Then yes. I would appreciate your help.”
Ward tipped his hat. “Welcome home, Ms. Montrose.”
“Call me Sophia,” she said just before he turned his horse around.
“Will do,” he called over his shoulder.
Sophia smiled and got back into her car. “I’ll meet you at the cottage,” she said to Hunter.
Hunter took off and somehow managed to beat her there. He ground-tethered his horse and came forward to open the car door for her.
“You got here fast.”
He grinned. “I know a shortcut, miss.”
“Of course.” She was reminded of all the shortcuts she’d taken on horseback when she lived here. The paved roads weren’t always the quickest way from point A to point B. “And please, call me Sophia, too.”
He was already reaching into her backseat for a box.
“Sure thing.”
He came up with three boxes, stacking them and managing to keep them balanced as he walked to the door. Sophia put the key into the lock. Her heart hammered against her chest, and Hunter beat her to the words that were just forming on her lips.
“I bet it’s just the way you remembered it.”
She breathed out. “I hope so.”
She opened the door without fanfare and moved quietly into the cozy three-bedroom cottage. She glanced around, taking everything in with a quick scan. “It is just as I remembered it.”
Hunter glanced around. “I’ve always wondered what the place looked like on the inside. It’s sorta nice. Homey.”
“Yes,” Sophia agreed. She honestly hadn’t known what to expect after Logan informed her no one else had lived here since she and her mother left. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d wondered if he would deliberately let the place fall to ruin out of bitterness.
“Where would you like the boxes?” Hunter asked.
She walked into the master bedroom that was once her mother’s and forced away her sentimentality for Hunter’s sake. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. “In here, I think.”
He followed her, and then set the boxes on the floor by the long three-drawer dresser. Sunlight streamed inside and cast a golden glow on the room. “Wow, looks like a daisy patch in here.”
Sophia smiled. “My mother loved daisies. They were her favorite flower.” And the room, decorated with white eyelet curtains covered with teensy daisies and a bedspread of creams and buttercup yellows, depicted that love. “My mama liked things bright. That’s how she viewed the world.”
Hunter didn’t say anything about that. He finished unloading her car and she thanked him for his help. Once she was alone, she sat down on the bed. The curtains were crisp, the bedspread fluffy. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Everything was in good condition—too good to have been left uncared for all this time. Someone had made sure these things were well preserved. And she had a feeling that someone had been Randall Slade.
He was still taking care of her, even from the grave.
After half an hour of unpacking, the doorbell chimed. It was the same singsong melody that she’d remembered. Curious, she walked to the door and looked through the peephole. An older woman stood on the cottage threshold holding a lovely vase of pink roses and greenery.
Sophia opened the door.
“Ms. Montrose?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m Sophia Montrose.”
“I’m Ruth Polanski. I’ve come to welcome you to Sunset Lodge.”
Sophia shuddered. Ruth Polanski, the manager of the lodge? This was the woman she would have to let go. She wasn’t ready for this. She hadn’t had time to figure out a way to give the woman the bad news. If Logan sent her over here …
“Would you like to come inside?”
“Just for a minute,” the silver-haired woman said. “I’m off duty now and don’t want to impose. But I wanted to meet you and give you something to warm your home.” She handed Sophia the lovely flower-filled vase. “Welcome,” she said, her kind eyes crinkling with her smile.
Sophia held the vase in one hand and gestured for her to enter with the other. Her heart raced. She didn’t know if she could do this. And she wondered why Luke hadn’t mentioned having to fire an elderly woman in order to take her position as manager. Surely, her friend would have known the delicate position this placed her in. “Thank you. They are beautiful.”
