LITMIR.BIZ

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that he and the enigmatic runaway were meant to connect on that lonely back road.

      He and Sierra stared at each other for several seconds, until she finally broke the silence. “I don’t know.”

      “Aw, come on,” he pleaded, which was a big stretch for him. He made it a point never to want anything so badly he’d get down on his knees for it. But this was different. Every instinct he had was warning him that Bekah was in trouble and needed help. His help. “She stopped to take care of a hawk that dive-bombed her car and scared her half to death. You’ve seen for yourself how great she is with the animals.”

      “We’ve stretched our budget as far as it will go this year. I can’t pay her much more than nothing until January.”

      “I don’t think that’s an issue for her. She just needs a job.”

      “We don’t know anything about her. She could be in trouble, or running from the police or something.”

      The image of that fading bruise refused to leave him alone, and he frowned. “She’s definitely running from something, but my gut tells me it’s not the law.”

      “Are you kidding me? I’m supposed to hire someone for a sensitive job like this based on your gut?”

      She had a point, he had to admit, and knowing his family, they’d agree with her. Then a solution hit him. “I’ve got a buddy who works in the county sheriff’s office. I can have him run a background check on her, off the record. Would that make you feel better?”

      “I guess.”

      He could tell he had her on the ropes. Sierra was a caring soul with a generous heart, and he knew she felt genuine sympathy for their mysterious visitor. Now to knock her over the edge and get a full-on yes for his true plan. “One more thing.”

      “Here it comes,” she grumbled, glaring up at him. It was a good thing they were such solid friends, or he’d have been worried she might smack him. “What?”

      “Judging by the condition her car’s in, I’m pretty sure she needs a place to stay.”

      “Don’t look at me like that, Lancelot,” Sierra retorted crisply. “My studio apartment’s more like a closet with a futon in it.”

      “Okay, then I’ll ask Mom. I’m sure she can find a spot for Bekah at the house till we come up with something better.”

      “Like what?”

      Drew mulled the problem over for a minute, then grinned. “What about the old stable manager’s office out back? It’s got a bunk and its own bathroom, along with a small kitchen. I can get a mattress from Mom, and her old fridge is still on the service porch, just waiting to be donated.”

      “That room’s filthy, and no one’s used it in years.”

      “So it’s perfect. Bekah won’t be in anyone’s way, and she can have some privacy. Beyond that,” he added, going in for the kill, “she’ll be on-site all the time. Once she’s trained, she can take over the morning chores, and you won’t have to come in at the crack of dawn. Ever.”

      Glowering at his logic, Sierra opened her mouth to protest, then slowly closed it. She chewed on his proposal for a minute and finally relented with a sigh. “Okay, we’ll give her a try. After your friend checks her out,” she added, stabbing Drew’s chest with a finger for emphasis. “I’m responsible for this center and every one of the animals living here. I won’t risk all that because you’ve got a feeling about a girl.”

      “Like I told you,” he retorted, “it’s not that kind of feeling.”

      She gave him a long, dubious look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. As she went back into the rear shed to finish doling out breakfast, he put her irritating reaction out of his mind. Right now he had more important things to worry about.

      Pulling out his phone, he thumbed down to the number he needed and pressed Dial. A crisp, professional voice answered, and he grinned. “Harley? Is that you? You sound like some rich guy’s uptight butler.” That got him a less than charitable reply, and he chuckled. “Hey, I need a favor, unofficially. I don’t know—cover your monitor or something. Here’s what I need.”

      Once he explained, Harley put him on hold to do a quick search of some mystical police database that would at least reveal whether or not Bekah was on the most-wanted list. Subjected to an instrumental version of a creaky old ballad, Drew strolled around the lobby until Harley came back on the line. “Your girl’s clear as far as I can see. Not even a parking ticket.”

      “Awesome. Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

      “I’ll add it to the list,” his childhood friend assured him with a chuckle. “Take ’er easy.”

      “You, too.”

      Clicking his phone off as he walked through an unmarked door, he found Sierra measuring out antibiotics for some patient or another. She held up her index finger for him to wait, and when she was finished, she looked up at him. “I can tell by the delighted look on your face that you got the answer you wanted to hear.”

      “From what Harley could tell, Bekah’s record is clean as a whistle. I’m way overdue at the farm, but I’m gonna head out back and see how that old plumbing looks. I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome and step on your pretty little toes.”

      “Oh, you’re a real prince. You owe me one, Kinley boy.”

      Echoing what he’d told Harley, he shot back, “Just add it to the list.”

      “Don’t worry. I will.”

      * * *

      Bekah didn’t have a watch, but the sun was directly overhead when she and Sierra finally finished taking care of all the animals and their pens. Everything was clean, everyone had been fed and dosed, and at one o’clock they had a family coming in to take home the adorable black lab puppy they’d chosen to adopt. Not long after that, Sierra had told her, it would be time to do it all over again and get everyone tucked in for the night.

      Never a dull moment at the rescue center, Bekah thought with a grin. She loved it.

      “Okay, rookie,” Sierra announced briskly. “Lunchtime.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “There are laws in this state, and one of them says I can’t work you to death. Unless I feed you first,” she added with a wink. “Fortunately for you, it won’t be my cooking you have to stomach. Maggie Kinley’s the best cook in the county, and she’s always got room for one more. If you don’t mind walking over to the house, we can chat on the way.”

      That sounded promising, so Bekah agreed and quickly washed her hands at a nearby utility sink. Outside, a mild autumn breeze rustled through the trees behind the center, shaking more leaves loose to float lazily down to the ground.

      Leaving the cluster of barns where she’d spent her morning, she followed Sierra onto a dirt lane that wound through acres of white-fenced bluegrass with horses of every size and color peacefully grazing in the sunlight. At the other end she saw a rambling white farmhouse surrounded by well-tended gardens. With wide porches and baskets of flowers hanging along the roofline, it had a welcoming look that invited people to stop in and visit for a while.

      “You’ve done great today,” Sierra began in her brisk, efficient way. “I threw every job I could at you, and you handled them better than anyone I’ve ever seen. You’ve got a real way with animals.”

      Unaccustomed to being praised for simply doing as she’d been told, Bekah felt prouder than she had in a long time. She didn’t want to come across as being needy, though, so she kept her response simple. “Thank you.”

      Sierra gave her a sidelong glance and shook her head with a smile. “You’re welcome. I know you’ve only been with us part of a day, but were you serious about wanting something more permanent?”

      Excited

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