she didn’t want but had already accepted.
Caleb didn’t want to accept it. Because he was already torn, wanting her to stay away and wanting to see her again. Because she was Maya and no one had ever made him feel the way she had. Even now, here, arguing, he felt some part of himself wake up, like it had been sleeping all these years, dormant. Waiting.
Maya reached for her pack and swung it up onto her back in an effortless motion. Though how someone so tiny could carry that much gear was beyond him.
“I’m going to be hiking out here for the next couple of days. I’ll stop by your ranch later in the week to talk about your options. How about Thursday?”
“Thursday,” he repeated stupidly. Because the whole idea that he and Maya were standing on this trail, in the middle of the night, making plans, was surreal. He didn’t want plans, didn’t want her help, and he opened his mouth to tell her, but she was already talking.
“Until then try not to shoot any lions. If you need to scare them off, blow a whistle. Bang a few pots and pans. Spray water. Get creative.”
Before he could answer, she gave a little wave, like they’d just run into each other on the street or something. Then she walked off into the darkness as if it was perfectly normal for her to head out into wild places, by herself, at night.
Maybe it was. He didn’t know her anymore. Not at all.
Caleb listened to her footsteps until they faded to nothing and she became just another part of the ghostly moonlight. Like she hadn’t been real. Like she’d never been here at all.
Except she was real. And when she showed up at his ranch, there’d be no hiding the mess there. She’d see it all. The leaning fences, the overgrown fields, the ruined barns, the neglected house. The visible evidence that his family had shattered beyond repair, on the night Maya drove into a tree and killed his sister.
CALEB THREW A dollar tip on the bar and took a gulp of his second beer. Dex’s Alehouse was busy for a Tuesday night. The usual customers crowded around the beat-up dartboards and pool tables. Ranch hands, workers from the vineyards, mechanics and store clerks—the regular folks of Shelter Creek—all showed up here.
Most of the town’s wealthier residents would be over at the new craft brewpub, or one of the wine bars that had opened up in Shelter Creek over the last few years. Change was coming, courtesy of better roads and direct flights from Los Angeles to the nearby city of Santa Rosa. Ranch land was being plowed under for vineyards. Big tasting rooms and cute inns were drawing weekend tourist crowds.
If he could, Caleb would pick up the whole town and move it a few hundred miles north, away from all the tourists. He’d keep it small and simple, just the way it had always been. Dex always said that Caleb lived in the past, and maybe that was true. So far the present hadn’t shown him much to get excited about.
Except now Maya was back. Though that wasn’t exciting. It was so many feelings, he didn’t even have words for them all. The combination was irritating, like a horsefly that kept buzzing around his head no matter how many times he slapped it away.
Why the hell did she have to be so...so Maya? Even on a dark trail, with a huge backpack on her back, she’d been achingly familiar. The flashlight had caught her long brown hair, woven into braids, the way she used to wear it when they went riding or did stuff around the ranch. He’d seen the shadows below her cheekbones and the light in her eyes.
He’d thought he’d never have to see any of that again. Figured it was for the best. Whatever had been between them was in the past. Separated from the present by the massive chasm of his sister’s death in Maya’s car.
He’d raged at Maya after the accident. Raged and blamed and thrown his grief like grenades, destroying everything they’d had.
Still, somehow, last night on the trail, there’d been this thread, this connection. A tenuous glimmer of remembered love and shared pain that had linked them together.
He hadn’t felt linked to anyone since he’d said goodbye to the guys in his platoon and left for home. And even those connections had been different. Camaraderie. Teamwork. Friendship.
What he’d felt last night was far more confusing. A vague sense that, on some deep level, she knew him and he knew her. And even if what they knew about each other contained so much that was bad, it still made him feel less adrift.
He practically lifted his hand to swat that last thought away. Darn horsefly.
Where was Jace? He’d talked his buddy into meeting him here, hoping his old friend would lighten his dark mood. He needed the distraction. He couldn’t stand here thinking about Maya for another second.
Caleb pushed his way through the crowd and wrote his name on the chalkboard near the pool tables. Then he leaned on the wall to watch the play. A guy he didn’t recognize lined up his cue to take a shot. He was going for the eight ball, and no way was he going to make it. Caleb bit back the urge to help him out and watched him miss instead. Watched his friend clap him on the back in triumph and go on to win the game.
Winners and losers. Life had clearly defined boundaries about that. And Caleb knew which category he fit into. He’d tried to come to terms with losing everything. Tried to be okay with wanting nothing more than a clear deed for the ranch and a few beers at the end of the day.
Ever since he’d come home from Afghanistan, he’d tried to believe it was enough.
Glancing toward the door, Caleb spotted Jace heading for the bar, well-dressed as always, in dark jeans, polished boots and a plaid Western shirt. The former bull rider had been a total ladies’ man on the circuit, and he still dressed the part.
Glancing down at his own worn black T-shirt with the feed company logo chipped and faded across the chest, Caleb figured he had a ways to go in that department. Which was okay by him. Women wanted things he couldn’t give. Money. Stability. Fun.
There were a few empty tables, and maybe he should grab one, but Caleb was too wired to sit. He’d been fired up ever since he’d run into Maya last night.
She was coming by his ranch to give him advice on Thursday. That was rich. His townie ex-girlfriend had gone off to college to become an expert on ranching? She had the authority to tell him not to shoot the mountain lion that threatened his sheep?
He drained his beer. When he’d finished, Jace was just a few steps away. “You look like hell.”
Caleb set his empty down. “Glad to see you too. I wasn’t sure you’d get away from the rug rats tonight.” Jace was the brand-new foster parent for his nieces and nephew, and he had shadows under his eyes to prove it.
Jace smiled wearily. “I just hope they’re not tearing up the place. Carly said she’d get them to bed on time, but I have my doubts.”
“Well, from what you’ve told me, Carly is used to being responsible for the other kids.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.” Jace took a gulp from his beer, like he had to fortify himself just to think about his fifteen-year-old niece. “Teenage girls are scary.”
“Well,
