in the process.
Tomorrow, she told herself, is another day.
CHAPTER FOUR
DAWN ARRIVED LONG BEFORE GARRETT was ready for it, and so did his brother. When he stumbled out the back door of the ranch house, after a brief shower, there was Tate, already waiting in front of the barn. He’d saddled old Stranger, their dad’s roan, for himself, and a black gelding named Dark Moon for Garrett.
After flashing Garrett a grin, Tate swung up onto Stranger’s back and took an easy hold on the reins.
“I’d kill for coffee,” Garrett said, hauling himself onto Dark Moon, shifting around to get comfortable. He’d forgotten how hard a saddle could be, especially when the rider was less than thirty minutes from a warm, soft bed.
“It won’t come to that,” Tate assured him, still grinning. “But I know the feeling.” He turned, pulled a medium-sized Thermos bottle from one of his saddlebags and tossed it to Garrett. “Made it myself.”
Garrett chuckled. “I might have some just the same,” he said, unscrewing the cup-lid and then the plug. He poured a swig and sipped. “Not bad,” he allowed. “You wouldn’t happen to have a plate of bacon and eggs in the other side of those saddlebags, would you?”
Tate chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “We’d best get moving. Most of the crew is already on the range, ready to work.”
Garrett resealed the coffee jug, rode close to hand it back to Tate, watched as his brother stowed it away again.
He hadn’t had nearly enough java to jump-start his brain, but he supposed for the time being it would have to do.
Tate led the way through a series of corral gates, and by then the darkness was shot through with the first flimsy rays of sunshine. They crossed the landscape side by side, their horses at a gallop, and Garrett was surprised at how good he felt. How … right.
“You heard anything from our little brother lately?” Tate asked, slowing the roan as they neared the temporary camp, where a small bonfire burned. Cowboys and horses milled all around, raising up dust, and the cattle bawled out there in the thinning gloom as if they were plain dying of sorrow.
“No,” Garrett answered. God knew, he had troubles of his own, but he worried about Austin. Their kid brother had taken his time growing up, and then he’d nearly been killed riding a bull at a rodeo over in New Mexico. Coming that close to death would have made some people a mite more cautious, but the effect on Austin had been just the opposite. He was wilder than ever.
Tate reined in a little more, and so did Garrett. “I figure if we don’t get some word of him soon, we’ll have to go out looking for the damn fool.”
Garrett nodded, stood in the stirrups to stretch his legs. He’d be sore for the next few days, he supposed, but riding wasn’t a thing a man forgot how to do. His muscles would take a little time to remember, that was all. “I’ll do some checking,” he said.
“I’d appreciate it,” Tate answered.
A couple of the cowboys hailed them from up ahead, and the din and the dirt clouds increased with every stride their horses took toward the herd.
“Garrett?”
Garrett turned to his brother. “Are you going to jaw at me all day, Tate?” he joked. Of the three McKettrick brothers, Tate was normally the one least likely to run off at the mouth.
Tate grinned. “No,” he said. “But I’ve got one more thing to say.” He paused, adjusted the angle of his hat, pulling the brim down low over his forehead. “It’s good to have you back.”
With that, Tate nudged Stranger’s flanks with his boot heels, and the horse bounded ahead, leaving Garrett to catch up.
And since Garrett was out of practice when it came to cowboying, he was pretty much catching up all morning long.
WITH A FEW MINUTES TO GO before she had to be at school, Julie followed an impulse and drove by the cottage she’d been renting since her return to Blue River, when Calvin was just a baby. The exterminator’s giant tent still billowed around it like a big, putty-colored blob.
Watching the thing undulate from within, Julie didn’t immediately notice Suzanne Hillbrand, of Hillbrand Real Estate. Her Mercedes was parked nearby.
Wearing high heels, a pencil skirt and very big hair, Suzanne was examining the spiffy new For Sale sign out by the curb.
The shock of seeing that sign struck Julie like a slap across the face. She cranked the Caddie into Park and got out, slamming the door hard behind her.
“Well,” Suzanne trilled, beaming, “hello, Julie Remington!”
Suzanne’s outgoing personality wasn’t an affectation designed to sell properties; she’d always been that way. Even in kindergarten. The big hair only went back as far as high school, though.
“Hello, Suzanne,” Julie responded, not smiling. She indicated the sign with a motion of one hand. “Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”
“Why, of course I’m sure, darlin’!” Suzanne replied, with exhausting ebullience, shading her perfectly made-up eyes with one perfectly manicured hand. “It isn’t as if there’s a real estate boom on here in Blue River, after all. I’ve got this cottage and the old Arnette farm on the books, and that’s it.”
The flash of adrenaline-fueled annoyance that had propelled Julie from behind the wheel of her Cadillac dissipated in an instant. She bit down on her lower lip.
“I take it Louise didn’t tell you she was putting the place on the market?” Suzanne asked quietly.
“She might have tried,” Julie admitted, picturing her very efficient and quite elderly landlady. “I’m not sure she has my cell number, and I keep forgetting to check my voice mail.”
Suzanne’s smile came back full force. “We all know you and Libby and Paige came into some money a while back,” she said. “Things like that get around, of course. Well, here’s the perfect investment for you. Your very own cottage. Think how easy it would be. You wouldn’t even have to pack up and move!”
In spite of herself, Julie smiled. She’d always liked Suzanne, and the woman’s enthusiasm was catching. Plus, she’d often dreamed of buying the cottage—back when she didn’t have the means, especially.
“What’s the asking price?”
Suzanne named a figure that would nearly wipe out Julie’s considerable nest egg.
So much for enthusiasm.
“No way,” Julie said, backing up a step.
Suzanne stayed happy. “Louise is firm on the price,” she said. “I told her she wouldn’t get that much, considering the state the market’s in right now, but she’s not about to budge. The place is paid for, and she doesn’t need the money. All that works in your favor, of course, because you’ll probably have all kinds of time before it actually sells—to find somewhere else to live, I mean.”
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