said than done.”
“Not with your charm.”
Gabe hung up and smiled. When he and Neal had first met, neither had seen their friendship lasting so long. Why would they have? They’d had nothing in common except for being forced to work at the same youth center during the summer before their freshman year. Neal had been there because his father had wanted him to see how the other half lived and Gabe because his youth probation officer had thought it was a good idea. Meanwhile, Gabe’s best friend, Sam Cody, had been enjoying all summer had to offer. Gabe had been pissed and Neal had been doing his best to rebel against Stewart—while still showing up for work on time.
Gabe’s lips twisted on the memory. Oh, yeah, Neal had been quite the rebel.
At first Gabe had tolerated Neal hanging with him—the kid had money and money was handy—but eventually he’d come to trust Neal as much as he was able to trust anyone. Considered him as much of a friend as Sam, even though he never let the two of them hook up for any length of time. Sam didn’t understand Neal. Sam wanted to work him, exploit the rich kid. Gabe hadn’t allowed that to happen. He felt protective of Neal and, in a weird way, he’d learned something about life from the kid. Living with a foster family more concerned with getting a monthly stipend than actually parenting the moody teenage boy in their care, Gabe had done whatever he pleased in his off hours, while Neal had curfews and responsibilities. He couldn’t stay out all night. He had to study. He had dreams and aspirations that seemed very exotic and out of reach to Gabe. College. Grad school. A retirement plan.
Things Gabe never thought he’d have, but did, thanks to Stewart Widmeyer.
“I HAVE NO idea how Lacy got out,” Dani said as she helped Allie fold her winter clothes and put them in a plastic bin to haul off to school in Idaho. “Unless she dropped to her belly and crawled out under the bottom rail. The gate was latched. There wasn’t enough room to get a running start to jump. I’m mystified.”
“You’re just lucky she went to the neighbor’s instead of heading for the county road.” Allie held up a sweater, grimaced and put it back down again. “I can’t face this one. Want it?”
“No. And I’m aware I’m lucky,” Dani said drily. The donation pile was about five times larger than the folded clothing in the plastic bin.
“Do you think someone let her out?” Allie asked just a little casually as she folded a sweatshirt and put it into the bin.
“Why would someone let her out?” Dani asked, shocked at the question.
“No idea. It seems about as realistic as her crawling under the fence or jumping over it from a standstill.”
“Gus did go a little nuts just before I got into the shower yesterday.” The Pyrenees-border-collie mix raised his black-and-white head at the sound of his name, then laid it back down on his paws with a heavy sigh. Gus wasn’t exactly a ball of energy unless he was chasing a bunny, his chosen prey.
Allie stopped folding. “I don’t like this.”
“You aren’t talking about the sweatshirt, are you?”
“No.”
“Did you have trouble with...intruders when you lived here?” Dani asked reasonably, shaking open a black plastic bag.
“I had trouble named Kyle,” her sister retorted bitterly.
It took Dani a second to realize what her sister was getting at. “You think Kyle let the mare out?”
“Last time we talked he was pretty angry.”
“Why would he do something like that?”
“Because I taunted him about the fences and gates?”
Dani let out a sigh. “Kyle isn’t responsible for everything bad that happens here.”
“But he is responsible for a lot of it and if we sold the place, we wouldn’t have to put up with him.” Allie sat down on the edge of the bed, her expression intense as she said, “You shouldn’t have to deal with him alone while I’m at school.”
“I don’t think I’ll be dealing with him once he brings that tractor back.” Which he’d grudgingly promised to do the next day.
Dani sat down next to Allie, bunching the T-shirt she held into a loose ball. “I don’t want to sell.”
“Dad died here.”
“And sometimes I feel like he’s here with me,” Dani said as she started stuffing clothing into the bag.
Allie simply pressed her lips together and shook her head. “You don’t remember the bad times like I do.”
“Yeah. I do. But they affected me differently. I see them as something we got through.”
“And then I started them all over again by bringing my husband here.”
“You know...we all liked Kyle. A lot.” Allie glared at her. “In the beginning,” Dani amended. “What I’m trying to say is that we were all taken in by him.”
“Yeah.” Allie popped the lid onto the box. “But you didn’t spend as much time with him as I did. I dated him for two years and still didn’t see the real guy. I believed in him. Made excuses for him while he ran this place into the ground.”
“Would selling it honestly make you feel better? Or just make it so that you never had to come back here and be reminded of the past.”
“Does it really matter which?”
“I wish the place didn’t make you so unhappy.”
“I made a mistake moving back here. We should have gotten our own place. Then we could have sold, I could have paid the bastard off and he’d have left us all alone.” Allie gave Dani a weary look as they walked downstairs together, Allie carrying the box and Dani dragging the heavy bag. “I won’t make noise about selling the Lightning Creek as long as you and Jolie are happy here, but the instant things start to go sour, I say we slap this place on the market.”
“Jolie and I are in total agreement. We just want a chance to make a go of it.”
“And I don’t begrudge you that.” Allie opened the back hatch of the Subaru Forester and shoved her box in before turning to reach for the bag.
“I can take it to the donation box if you want,” Dani offered.
“No. I want the satisfaction of kissing my old life goodbye.” She hefted the bag and shoved it into the crowded cargo space, jamming it on top of the boxes.
“Have at it.”
Allie hugged her with one arm before heading to the driver’s side of the car. “Who knows,” she called over her shoulder, “maybe the ranch will treat you better than it treated me.”
“Mel did okay here.”
“She
