LITMIR.BIZ

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mom had been something of a recluse until she passed away just after he’d turned fourteen. They’d moved from apartment to apartment, trailer house to trailer house, looking for ever-lower rent as the medical bills stacked up. They’d stayed in the Reno-Carson City area, but he’d changed schools every year or two and found it was easier to simply keep to himself. That way people didn’t ask questions, expect to be invited over. Things like that.

      When cancer had finally claimed his mom, he’d been sent to live with his father, who hadn’t wanted him in the first place. The last thing he’d wanted was the son who was a reminder of his brief relationship with a Reno cocktail waitress. He’d given Trace food and shelter, but his discomfort with the situation had been palpable, and Trace had found himself feeling even more alone than he had when he’d been in Reno. At least there he’d had his mom and a few acquaintances. That first summer in Oregon, he’d had no one—or at least he hadn’t until Ernest McClure had found him exploring on his property and had insisted that he come home and eat lunch with him and his wife, Josie, so that they could get to know “the new neighbor.”

      Trace had gone, more because he’d been caught trespassing than because he wanted to get to know anyone. Going with Ernest, however, had been the best accidental move of his life. In Ernest and Josie, he’d found pseudograndparents. Mentors. People who believed in his basic good—something he’d kind of wondered about.

      Thanks to their gentle influence—which later he discovered was more like velvet-covered steel—Trace started actively working to make something of himself, his life. He’d joined the school rodeo team, and made an effort to connect with other kids. It’d been painful at first, but as he made more friends, he gained confidence, and by the time he’d graduated, he’d learned to play the social game well. He may never have connected with his dad, but he’d done all right. And now he could effect easy conversation with the best of them...except with Annie Owen.

      He had no idea what was going on there.

      Trace gave a small snort as he closed the tack-room door and pushed the past out of his head. He didn’t need to worry about Annie or connecting because he probably wasn’t going to see her again. The future was his biggest concern.

      The future and the long day on the ranch that stretched out before him.

      * * *

      EVEN THOUGH ANNIE had worked at Annie Get Your Gun for over a year, she still felt like smiling when she walked through the door to start her day. It was a total accident that she shared a name with the store, but she liked being partnered up with Annie Oakley, who was the true namesake.

      There was something about the upscale yet funky Western boutique housed on the ground floor of a historic brick building that was both welcoming and inspiring. If she could afford it, she would happily decorate her entire house with the items sold at the boutique, but that wouldn’t be happening anytime in the near future. Her girls were growing like weeds and it seemed like she was spending her extra cash on new shoes or coats every couple of months. But a person needed a little pick-me-up every now and again, so she settled for buying the occasional small piece of bric-a-brac on payday and being thankful that she had a full-time job with benefits.

      In fact, it still amazed her that Danielle had offered her the job in the first place, since she and Grady had once been engaged and it hadn’t ended well. But Danielle was now married to a great guy, and Grady was engaged to Lex, a partner in the business. A convoluted state of affairs, but the end product was that Danielle and Grady were both blissfully happy and Annie had a job she loved.

      “You’re here early,” Danielle said as she walked into the back room carrying a vase of wilted roses.

      “The girls managed to get ready for school on time. I’ve worked up an incentive plan.”

      “Clever mom.” Danielle gave her kind of a goofy smile.

      “What?”

      She bit her lip then blurted, “I’m pregnant! I’m going to be a mom, too!”

      Annie gasped then reached out to hug Danielle, who was almost bouncing up and down with excitement. “When?”

      “January.”

      “And no morning sickness?” Danielle shook her head. “Lucky you,” Annie murmured. “I think I was sick for five months.”

      “Have I mentioned that I’m excited?” Danielle said. “I’ve been looking at Western baby stuff. A lot of it. You may have to rein me in so the store doesn’t become Annie Get Your Baby Gear.”

      Annie laughed. “I’ll do my best, but baby gear mania is like a sickness. Everything is so cute.”

      “I know.” Danielle opened the cooler and took out the bouquet of flowers stored inside and replaced the roses in the vase. She jerked her head toward the boutique. “I have more news.”

      Annie followed, waiting until Danielle had placed the flowers on the end of the tall counter where they transacted business. She nodded at the locked door on the west side of the room. “I negotiated with Great Granny and because they’re having trouble renting that little space after the Book Nook closed, she’s letting me have it for a song. I’m making a quilt room.” She walked over to the door and turned the old-fashioned key resting in the lock then pulled it open. The Book Nook had been vacant for almost as long as Annie had worked for the store, and the room was both musty and dusty.

      Danielle stood for a moment, studying the space. “Definitely some work ahead of us.” She glanced over at Annie. “If there is an us. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind putting in some overtime and helping me clean and paint this space. The cleaning we can do when we have downtime during the day, but the painting—I don’t want fumes, so I figured that could be done during the evening. Thus, the overtime.”

      “I’d just do it,” Annie said.

      “I don’t want you—”

      “You can buy me a drink sometime. After...” She patted her abdomen.

      “If you’re sure,” Danielle said, stepping farther into the room.

      “Totally sure.” Annie crossed over to the windows, which had brown paper covering them. “It’ll be nice to get this paper down.”

      “It was never meant to be up for so long,” Danielle agreed. “And it’ll be nice not being next to a vacant space.” She turned in a circle. “I’m going to hang the best quilts, put racks over there and see if I can score some dressers to display smaller items.”

      “I’ve been trying to make smaller items,” Annie said. “I don’t seem to have the knack.” But she wished she did. Lex made metal jewelry for the store, and Kelly, who’d worked there before Annie, still brought in her pottery pieces. Annie had nothing to contribute.

      “You know, I’m fine with you simply being a great associate.”

      Annie gave a soft snort. “I want a talent like everyone else.”

      “Maybe you’re really good with interior paint,” Danielle said with a wry smile.

      “I do sling a mean brush.” She did. The house she’d grown up in had been grim when she’d moved back home after Wes had left her. She and Grady had rented it out while she’d been in college and the renters hadn’t been all that careful with the place. It’d taken Annie a long time to brighten the house with paint and small touches, making headway whenever her budget allowed.

      “I was thinking Friday evening to paint? You can bring the girls.”

      Paint and her twins were usually an explosive combination. Annie lifted an eyebrow, thinking that Danielle had a learning curve ahead of her. “That sounds great and since its Friday, I think that would be a good night for the twins to spend the night with friends.”

      * * *

      THE DAYS PASSED SLOWLY. Trace saddled up every day, exercising each mare in turn and even giving the cranky old gelding, Snuff, a go. After the daily

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