LITMIR.BIZ

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it off. Her plan, if she was able to go through with it, would ruin a lot of boys’ opportunity for a second chance, but that didn’t seem to bother her. Her latest stunt had been to try to pressure the Lone Star Cowboy League, who controlled the ranch, into giving her a large amount of money to prevent her going to court.

      Not a nice woman. “Can I help you?” he asked, stepping in front of her.

      “Sure, cowboy,” she said, raising her eyebrows and tossing back her brassy-blond hair.

      If that was supposed to have an effect on him, it didn’t work.

      Logan was another story. He stepped toward her with a winning smile. “Those cookies smell good!”

      “They are good,” she purred, squatting down in front of Logan and waving the plate in front of him.

      “Can I have one?” Logan started to reach for a cookie.

      Avery pulled the plate back. “Not so fast. Are you one of the, ah, troubled boys?”

      Logan looked up at Flint. “Am I, Dad?”

      “No.” He leveled a glare at Avery. “I can deliver those to the residents if you like.” After checking them for cyanide. Since when did Avery Culpepper give a hoot about the boys who lived here?

      “No, that’s all right,” she purred. “I’m sure you have all kinds of big, important things to do.” She shot him a challenging stare. “While you can.”

      So she was still bent on destroying the ranch. At least, that was how he interpreted her remark.

      Which made her gift of cookies seem like a ploy rather than a charitable gesture.

      “Come on, Logan.” He didn’t want his son anywhere near this woman.

      “But, Dad—”

      “Now.”

      “Listen to your daddy, little boy,” Avery said, dismissing Logan with a wave of her fancy pink-fingernailed hand.

      Logan trotted after Flint and, when he caught up, shot a resentful look back over his shoulder. “She didn’t even give me a cookie, Dad. And what’s ‘troubled’ mean?”

      “We’ll talk about it later. Nothing to worry about.”

      “She’s pretty, but I don’t like her.”

      “Neither do I.” None too soon for Logan to learn that “pretty” didn’t necessarily mean kind or worth getting to know. That it was actually, usually, something to watch out for. “Come on, you can play with Cowboy and the barn kittens while I finish working with the older boys.”

      * * *

      Lana pulled into the ranch house parking lot just in time to see Logan and Flint turn away from Avery Culpepper and head toward the barn.

      She got out of her car slowly, watching the pair. Flint had slowed his strides to match Logan’s, and Logan was obviously chattering a mile a minute.

      “Cute, aren’t they?” Avery Culpepper approached and nodded toward Flint and Logan, a catlike smile on her face. “Do you have a thing for the ranch manager?”

      Lana’s face heated. “No! Logan’s in my class at school—”

      “And he’s almost as cute as his daddy.” Avery frowned darkly. “Too bad Flint’s involved with that Lone Star Cowboy League.”

      Rumors of Avery’s beef with The League had circulated around church and school, but Lana didn’t know enough about it to take sides. “The league does a lot of good,” she said mildly.

      “So they claim.” The woman’s mouth twisted.

      “O-kaaay.” Lana didn’t know how to respond to that. “I’d better get to my tutoring. The boys are probably waiting.”

      Lana headed toward the ranch house, Avery falling into step beside her. Jagged thoughts pierced Lana’s contentment in the midst of a peaceful day. What had Avery and Flint been talking about? Was Avery interested in Flint?

      Was Flint interested in Avery? She didn’t seem like his type, but you never knew with men. Even those who seemed to hold admirable values could end up letting you down.

      Lana drew in a breath and looked skyward, centering herself. It didn’t really matter if Flint and Avery were interested in each other, because she, Lana, wasn’t going to get involved with any man. She’d tried and failed. She just wasn’t good at dating, love, relationships.

      It wasn’t in the cards for everyone, getting married. And she had plenty to do, and plenty to be thankful for, without being on the arm of a man.

      “So how are you liking life in Haven?” she asked Avery, determined to be cheerful.

      The woman laughed without humor. “It’s not what I’m used to.”

      “Oh?”

      “I’m more of a city girl. Grew up in Dallas.”

      Lana nodded. “I lived in Austin for a while, during college and for a couple years afterwards. It was fun to have so many choices about what to do.” Although Lana was perfectly content with a small town now. When one of her college teachers had recommended her for a job in the city of Dallas, she’d thanked him—but inside, she’d known she wouldn’t consider it.

      “Yeah, instead of sitting home all weekend, or going to the same two bars and seeing the same people.”

      Lana laughed. “I can relate. Well, not to the bars, but I sit at home too much.” She felt like she ought to propose they get together, but the truth was she didn’t feel very drawn to Avery. They probably didn’t have much in common.

      Still, the woman was new in town and seemed lonely.

      Inspiration hit. “Would you like to come to church with me next Sunday? I haven’t seen you there.”

      “Me? Church?” Avery looked sideways at her.

      “Sure! We have a very welcoming, warm congregation. It’s a great place to make friends.”

      Avery sighed dramatically. “Maybe church would be good for me. I’m... I’m just so sad lately.”

      “I’m sorry.” They’d reached the point where Lana needed to head toward the library, but instead, she turned to Avery. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

      “No. There’s nothing you can do.” Avery looked off into the distance, brushing her fingers under her eyes. “It’s just hard that I never got to know my grandfather. Maybe if I’d grown up here, I’d understand the people and feel more a part of things.”

      “That is sad.”

      Avery shrugged. “When you grow up in foster care, you learn how to make the best of things.”

      Sympathy twisted Lana’s heart. She’d had a warm, loving family herself—up until the accident—so she felt for people who hadn’t been so fortunate. “I really hope you’ll come to church on Sunday,” she said, patting Avery’s arm. “I’ll give you a ride.”

      At that minute, Marnie Binder came out of the main ranch house’s back door, letting the screen slam behind her. She approached Lana and Avery, stopped, and put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?” she asked Avery.

      “I thought I’d like to look around,” Avery said. “And look, I brought some cookies for the boys.”

      “We have plenty of cookies already,” Marnie said. “And if you want to look around, you need to take it up with Beatrice Brewster. She’s the ranch director.” Marnie turned and stomped back into the house.

      What was that about? In the months Lana had known Marnie, the woman had never been anything but kind to others.

      Avery looked annoyed. “What’s her problem? Can’t a

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