comments set her up to be. She’d sounded like a kind and caring woman, and her actions proved it. She didn’t just send letters to her husband, but also care packages filled with his favorite things. And she always sent along plenty for the other marines in his unit—a thoughtful gesture appreciated by all.
Suzie Kent was the real deal and Gordon had been a lucky man.
Tucker hadn’t been so lucky in love, before his stint in the marines or since. He’d been too in love with his career—this had been pointed out to him several times and it had been true. Driven to make a difference in the world was what he’d called it.
He wasn’t marriage material back then, still wasn’t. But he knew finding what Gordon and Suzie had found together wasn’t easy.
He’d been happy for Gordon, though, and drawn to look at Suzie’s pictures as often as Gordon wanted to show them. Everything was raw and harsh and brutal where they’d been, and looking into Suzie Kent’s sparkling eyes had made him feel that there was hope in this world.
That he was fighting for goodness to prevail.
Moments ago, Tucker had looked down and Suzie hadn’t been a photo any longer. She’d been real, and staring into her eyes, brutal reality had struck him like a bolt of lightning. Suzie Kent had once been full of life, fun and vivacious. Now she was sad and struggling to hide it.
Worry was etched into her expression and imprinted in the depths of her eyes. She seemed skittish, too, and uncertain.
And it was because of him.
If he’d died and Gordon had lived, she wouldn’t be having the trouble she was having with her son or her life.
And, as much as he wanted to help Abe, Tucker wanted just as much to bring back the girl in those photos.
He knew deep in his soul that Gordon would have wanted that.
And as he began the drive toward the ranch with Suzie following, Tucker vowed once more that he would not let his fallen friend down.
Chapter Two
Turmoil rolled in Suzie’s stomach like bad chicken salad as she followed Tucker down the country road. Pastures spread out on either side of the road, and yellow flowers were everywhere, carpeting the hillside in sunny yellow—goatweed, she knew, but pretty nonetheless.
When a majestic, wooden entrance came into view she knew this was Sunrise Ranch before she saw the name and before Tucker slowed and turned into the drive. Gordon had described everything perfectly.
In the distance, she could see the tops of the ranch buildings. She didn’t look at Abe, but she felt him straighten in his seat and bend forward slightly, as if to get a better view. Her heart squeezed tight with hope.
They topped the hill, and the ranch spread out before them.
“This is where your dad came to live about the age you are now,” she said, even though he already knew this. “He loved it here. I can see why.”
Abe had stopped talking much about Gordon over the past year. It was as if he were angry with him for not being around. She understood. She had her own anger issues to deal with.
“Your dad had described it just like this,” she said, loving the look of the place as she pulled to a halt beside Tucker at the rear of the large ranch house—a welcoming two-story house with an expansive back porch, inviting one to sit a spell overlooking the ranch compound. Out to the side of the house, an office and then a chow hall sat connected by porches and plank sidewalks. Small wooden signs swinging from the covered porches confirmed this, but she knew it from Gordon’s descriptions.
Directly across the white rock parking lot was an older, but extremely well-maintained red stable that he’d said was at least a hundred years old. Gordon had loved the stable—she could still hear the awe in his tone when he talked of the baby horses being born there.
Beside the stable was a massive silver barn with an arena and corral attached. And out in the distance sat another building with playground equipment behind it—this was the schoolhouse.
There were boys everywhere, it seemed. Some were in the arena with a few cattle, others were on horses, riding toward them across the pasture. No sooner had Suzie parked than it seemed their truck was surrounded.
Suzie could easily tell that the bright-eyed boys were all ages, the youngest seemed to be eight or nine but there were all heights and ages.
Surely one of these boys would be a good friend to Abe.
She was about to open her door, but a dark-headed kid who looked amazingly like a young Elvis pulled it open for her.
“Hi, ma’am. Welcome to Sunrise Ranch. I’m Tony.”
She could not help but smile. Not only from the fact that he did, indeed, sound like Elvis, but also because just the simple act of courtesy gave her another swift surge of hope. His eyes twinkled with goodwill and happiness—as her Abe’s once had. Please, God, let this be the answer.
She heard Abe’s door squeak open and glanced over her shoulder to see him getting out. Tucker was exiting his truck at the same time and said something to him as Abe closed his door. She turned back and smiled at Tony and the other boys, all talking at the same time.
“You done brung us another boy,” said a small, plump boy, who looked to be the youngest. He looked from her to Abe on the other side of the truck.
“You want us to show you how to rope?” one called to Abe.
“Are you going to live here?”
“Can you ride a horse?”
Questions bombarded them from all directions.
She laughed, not knowing who to answer first.
“Whoa, boys,” Tucker said, rounding the end of the truck with Abe. “Take it slow. This here is Abe. Yes, he’s going to be going to school with y’all. And yes, he’ll also need some help learning to ride and rope and work cows.”
Suzie watched as everyone started introducing themselves. It was going to take her forever to learn all of their names. She would remember Tony. He seemed to be close to Abe’s age.
Over the tops of their heads, her gaze met Tucker’s and her pulse kicked into a gallop. His deep blue eyes seemed to reach for her and she felt suddenly breathless. What was wrong with her? These were emotions of attraction.
And they had no place between her and Tucker McDermott.
No place at all.
Abruptly the office door opened, and a tall, straight-backed woman with a gray ponytail and a wide grin came striding outside—Ruby Ann McDermott. She was followed by Randolph McDermott. Both had come to Gordon’s funeral and stood beside her as if they were his family. They’d loved Gordon and he’d loved them, having considered them the family he’d never had since his parents abandoned him early in life. At the service, they’d given their condolences and offered to help her in any way they could. She’d refused their help at the time.
Randolph, a handsome man in his mid-fifties
