The Rancher's Secret Wife. Brenda Minton

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Myrna twisted to look at the building behind them. “What is it about this shop that interests you?”

      Cheyenne looked back at the shop. “I’m a beautician. I thought that someday I might rent a place like this and open a salon.”

      “In Dawson?” Myrna Cooper hummed for a minute. “Well, that’s something we could use. So why don’t you rent this building?”

      Cheyenne stood because it was time to go. “I don’t have the money. If I leave my number with you, could you pass it on to Reese?”

      “First, let’s take a look at this old barbershop. It was my uncle’s, you know.” Myrna reached in her purse and pulled out a key. “I happen to own it now.”

      Myrna stuck the key in the door, jiggled the handle and then pushed it open. “It’s a mite musty after being closed up for the past couple of years.”

      “I like the smell.” Cheyenne walked around the little rectangle building. It still had sinks, chairs—even a little room in the back and a bathroom. “But I can’t afford it.”

      Myrna ignored her. She sat down in one of the plastic chairs near the window and smiled big. “I used to come in here with my daddy when I was a little girl. Back then Dawson had more to offer. We had a grocery store, a bank and a post office.”

      “I bet it was a wonderful place to grow up.” Cheyenne smiled, but she had to sit down. Pain wrapped around her belly, and she breathed deep to get through it.

      “Are you okay?”

      “I’m fine, just a cramp.”

      “You’re sure?”

      She nodded and sat down in a chair near Myrna’s. “I’m sure. I have a couple of months to go before I’m due. These are just Braxton Hicks contractions.”

      Myrna patted her leg. “Take the shop, Cheyenne. It’s yours. I’ll get the water turned on and the electricity.”

      “I can’t. Myrna, I’m broke. Really, I can’t.”

      Myrna Cooper stood and beckoned for Cheyenne to join her. “I’m going to help you do this. Young women should have dreams. They should have options. I don’t know your relationship with my grandson, but I know if he could, he’d be the one here helping you. Until he can, you’ve got me.”

      “Oh, Myrna.” Cheyenne closed her eyes for a brief “pull it together” moment.

      Myrna touched her arm. “Let’s go home. You can get a good night’s rest, and tomorrow I think things will look better.”

      “‘Home’?”

      Myrna pursed her lips and widened her eyes. “My house, young lady. That’s what I mean by home. Stay the night or a few nights with me. And then we’ll see what we can do with this old barbershop.”

      Cheyenne considered saying no but her body ached. She was hungry and tired. To top it off, her car hadn’t been running right. For the last few hundred miles she’d worried she wouldn’t make it to Dawson. And where else could she go? Myrna Cooper seemed to be an answer to prayer.

      After a few days of rest, things would look different. Maybe she could take Myrna up on her offer. This shop could be the place to start her new life. But how would Reese feel about her settling in his hometown? That hadn’t been part of their bargain. He had never counted on her in his life for good—not even as a neighbor.

      * * *

      Reese sat on the front steps of his parents’ home, letting Adam MacKenzie tell him what a great opportunity it would be for him to work at Camp Hope and how great it would be for the kids who attended. Reese held out his hand to the dog that brushed against him, licking his arm.

      “Adam, I can barely help myself right now. I’m not sure how I could help kids who have been dealing with disabilities their entire lives. There are days that I’m pretty angry. I’m trying to be independent, but man, there are days. Try asking for help finding a pair of shoes. That’ll teach you what humility is. I’m a grown man, and I have to ask what shirt to wear.”

      “Reese, you’re honest. That’s what these kids need, not someone who puts on a smile and pretends every day is perfect but someone genuine who can admit he gets angry.”

      “I’m not sure. Not yet. When I can make it through a day on my own steam, maybe then. Right now I’m afraid the kids would be helping me more than I could help them.” He took the stick the dog pushed into his hand and gave it a fling.

      “Reese, these kids are always teaching me something. That’s part of the joy in this camp—what it does not just for them, but for us.”

      “I’ll think about it.”

      Adam stood, touched his shoulder and walked away. “Pray about it.”

      “Will do.”

      Reese sat on the steps until he heard the car door close and the engine start. He waved and Adam honked. He stood and turned to go back inside the house. The dog returned with the stick. Reese took it one last time and gave it a toss.

      “Hey, watch it.” His sister Heather let out a shriek. “I’m down here, you know.”

      He laughed a little and stopped on the top step. “Sorry. And no, I didn’t know. Are you going to town by any chance?”

      Heather joined him on the steps. “Yeah, actually. I had to drop some artwork off with Jackson, and now I’m heading back to town.”

      Their older brother had gotten married while Reese was gone, and his new wife was redecorating.

      “Yeah, but that would make more driving. You’d have to go in to Dawson, back out here and then home.”

      “Yeah, horrible, it might add six miles to my trip. Reese, I can drive you to town. Where do you want to go?”

      “Rumor has it that Gran has moved Cheyenne into the barbershop.”

      “Not a rumor.”

      He unfolded the white cane that hung from his wrist. “I need to find out what’s going on.”

      “Okay, let’s go.” She touched his arm. “How do you know her?”

      He walked next to her across the yard. “I met her in Vegas.”

      The answer bugged him. She was more than someone he’d met. She deserved better than that. Unfortunately he didn’t quite know how to give her better. He was still working on that. The situation between them would have been easy if he hadn’t been injured, if she hadn’t shown up in Dawson. The arrangement they’d made had seemed pretty cut and dried, until now.

      “She’s pretty.” Heather spoke softly.

      “Yeah, she is.”

      “She wears a wedding ring on a chain around her neck. Do you know her husband?”

      The question dug for more answers. Rather than giving them, he opened the passenger

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