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The Rancher's Surrender. Jill Shalvis
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Автор произведения Jill Shalvis
Жанр Вестерны
Издательство HarperCollins
Twenty years later
In the dark night the mountains rose like giants. Three giants. And excitement ripped through Zoe so that she could barely contain herself as she parked.
“We’re here!” she cried, leaping out of the car first. Not because she was the oldest; she wasn’t. They were all close enough to the same age that it didn’t matter.
But Maddie-the-Worrywart had pretended to fall asleep in the back seat on the long ride from the airport, and Delia-the-Know-It-All still couldn’t believe what they’d done.
And Zoe was so thrilled to be at Triple M Ranch, she couldn’t stand it. Her dreams were about to come true, after a lifetime of uncertainty and nowhere to belong, she was home.
Everyone that mattered to her was in the car. And she wanted them to be as happy. “Come on, you two,” she whispered in the absolute darkness, her feet crunching in the dirt beneath her as she turned and peered back into the open rental car. “Let’s go.”
“It’s...black out there” came Maddie’s hushed reply. Her pale, sleepy face popped up from the back seat. Rumpled and tired as she was, her creamy skin glowed and her sable hair curled around her face, giving her the look of a precious china doll.
“Yes, night is usually pretty black,” Zoe agreed with a little laugh. “Come on.”
“Darker than Los Angeles,” Delia decided, speaking from the front passenger seat and peering out into the night. She flipped back a blond tress. “I can’t believe we’ve done this. I bet there’s not a Thai takeout within three hundred miles.”
“Well, it’s not every day we just inherit a ranch,” Zoe pointed out. “We couldn’t not come.”
“We could have waited for daylight.” The face that usually inspired grown men to beg for attention now creased in stubbornness, a look that Zoe knew all too well. Delia wasn’t budging for anything less than a shopping spree.
“Oh, and I suppose you have money for a hotel room.” Suddenly willing to stall, Zoe clung to the side of the car, because after all, her sisters were right...it was pretty dark.
And the fact that they were here at all, in the middle of the Idaho wilderness, one thousand miles away from their comforting city of Los Angeles, was mostly her fault
“We’ll be fine,” Maddie said, her voice quiet. “We’re together, that’s all that matters.”
“We could have stayed together at the airport hotel until morning,” Delia pointed out calmly. “Might have been a whole lot smarter than rushing out to the middle of the boondocks without even the moon for company. And I bet the hotel had a hot tub.”
If there was something Zoe had a hard time with, it was taking the blame, especially when she was in the wrong. Because their ranch supposedly came with two trucks, they had sold her car and Delia’s. Maddie hadn’t owned one. They’d flown into Boise from L.A., and then rented a car to take them to the ranch one hundred and fifty miles away, excited and hopeful about their future.
Zoe had always wanted a truck, but there hadn’t been much reason for one in L.A., not to mention cost. Because of that, her secret fantasy of driving a truck and owning a horse had never materialized.
Until now.
“You know we’re on a tight budget,” she said with more defense than was necessary, but she was out on a limb and couldn’t afford to fail. “And anyway, I don’t see the difference between arriving at our new property now or in the morning.”
“In the morning it would have been light.”
An owl hooted, or at least it sounded like an owl. Zoe hugged the car door to her side, glancing warily over her shoulder. Man, the night was noisy here. Water rushed nearby, which she knew to be the Salmon River. Crickets blared. She could hear the sound of trees rustling in the wind.
Something howled.
“What was that?” Maddie whispered in terror, their bickering forgotten as they reached for one another through the open window.
“A coyote?” Zoe guessed.
“Let’s hope coyotes don’t eat city women for dessert,” Delia said in her usual calm voice, but she squeezed Zoe’s hand so hard the bones cracked.
The goose bumps that rose on her flesh had nothing to do with the late spring cool air.
“Sounds different from Los Angeles,” Maddie whispered.
“Yeah,” Delia whispered back. She wasn’t a worrywart, but she wasn’t too tough to admit to a good, healthy fear. “Never thought I’d miss all the sirens.”
“At least the land is ours,” Zoe said. “Ours.”
“Supposedly ours.”
Zoe couldn’t blame Delia for the doubt. After all, the whole inheritance thing was a bit spooky, considering the twist of fate that had left them unsure as to which of the three of them had actually inherited. Which in turn was due to the fact that since all three of them had been born out of wedlock, with birth certificates void of a father’s name, not one of them knew any more about themselves except their mother’s maiden names.
But a woman, Constance Freeman, had located them just before her death last month. Through her private investigator, Cade McKnight, who had matched the dates of their arrival at the group home to the approximate date of Constance’s granddaughter’s disappearance, Constance had been convinced that either Zoe, Maddie or Delia had been her long-lost granddaughter. The one she’d been looking for over the past twenty years. It was enough to boggle Zoe’s mind. “We’ve come this far, right?”
“Right,” Maddie agreed. Both she and Zoe looked at Delia.
“Right,” Delia admitted warily.
“And we all agreed we wanted a new life together, no matter which of us is heir, right?” Zoe asked.
“Right”
“So stop whining.” That said, Zoe straightened and glared into the dark toward the house. “Let’s just do this. The faster we get inside, the faster we’ll be able to flip on every light in the place.”
“Good plan.” Delia hopped out, looking city chic in her black pantsuit. She held the seat back for Maddie, whose long floral dress caught on the door.
Zoe rolled her eyes heavenward. Her foster sisters were day and night, yet after hours and hours of traveling, they still looked incredibly beautiful. No one would ever guess that they were only one step ahead of the poverty line. That Delia designed and hand-sewed their clothes because that’s all they could afford. That they depended tightly on one another for security, and had for twenty-odd years.
Zoe glanced down at herself, even though she knew what she would see—secondhand jeans and a T-shirt. Her shoulder-length auburn hair, full of natural curls that were the bane of her existence, had rioted. Compared to her lovely sisters, she was a disheveled mess, but that was nothing new. She’d been the ugly duckling for longer than she cared to remember, though she rarely obsessed over it since it was her own fault. Makeup and hairstyles had never been as important to her as survival.
Delia moaned theatrically. “Oh Lord, have you ever seen such a black night? Where’s the flashing neon billboards? The floodlights? The—”
“Get over it, Delia. You’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“No kidding.”
Zoe flipped on her flashlight. Turning, she aimed it down the road they’d just come from. Road being relative, of course. From the airport in Boise they’d driven north for hours, to Riggins. There they’d gone west, down narrow curvy roads that had eventually turned to dirt. Zoe considered it a miracle they’d even made it. Her meager