LITMIR.BIZ

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ornaments and other pretty items. The grocery store was to the right of Oregon’s. Lefty Mueller’s store, where he sold wooden Christmas carousels and other hand-carved art, was to the left. Kayla was a city girl but Martin’s Crossing held a certain appeal. But not long-term. Not for her.

      For some reason the thought invoked a melancholy that took her by surprise, sending a few tears trickling down her cheeks. She kept her gaze on the passing scenery and brushed away the tears.

      “Where do your parents live?” she asked, turning from the window and pulling her hair back from her face.

      “A few minutes out of town.” He kept driving, the radio playing country music and the open windows letting in warm summer air. “You okay?”

      “Of course.”

      He cleared his throat, then let out a heartfelt sigh. “You were crying.”

      “I wasn’t.”

      “I have sisters, I know tears of sadness, tears of frustration. All brands of tears.”

      “Okay, Mr. Tear Expert, why was I crying?”

      “I’m not sure of the exact reason, but if you want to talk...”

      “I’d rather not.”

      “Sometimes it helps,” he prodded.

      “Really? I don’t see you wearing your heart on your sleeve.”

      “No, I guess I don’t.”

      She stared out the open window, enjoying the humid breeze that lifted hair that had come loose. Outside the landscape was dark except for an occasional security light that flashed an orange glow across a lawn or outbuilding and the silvery light of a nearly full moon. Cattle were dark silhouettes grazing in the fields.

      They turned up a narrow, rutted driveway. Ahead she could see a two-story white farmhouse. The front-porch light was on. In the distance she could see the dark shapes that meant numerous outbuildings.

      “I hope you don’t mind the country.”

      “It isn’t my favorite.”

      He laughed a little. “Well, you’ll either sink or swim, sunshine.”

      Sunshine. She’d never had a nickname. She’d never been anyone’s sunshine. It didn’t mean anything to him. But it meant something to her. Something that she couldn’t quite define.

      Sunshine was definitely better than Cinderella.

      “Here we are. Home sweet home. I promise you, you’re in for a real experience. We are a pretty crazy bunch.”

      “I can handle it.”

      “I’m sure you can.” He got out of the truck, and she followed.

      He held her suitcase and handed her the smaller overnight bag that accompanied it. “Let’s get you settled.”

      “Don’t you live here?”

      He shook his head. “No. I bought a little RV. It’s hooked up to power over by the barn.”

      “But you’re going to be close by, right?” She felt as if he was suddenly drifting out of reach. She took a deep breath. He was practically a stranger. Not her lifeline.

      “I’ll be around more than you can stand. But I prefer my own space. I’m not much for company and big crowds. Believe me, you’re going to have your share of people. You’ll want solitude when you’re done with this month on the Wilder Ranch.”

      “Month?”

      He shrugged it off. “We aren’t sending you out on your own until we know who is behind the threats and the attack. Maybe it wasn’t the same guy.”

      “I kind of think it is.”

      She followed him up the steps and as they got to the front door, it opened. Standing on the other side of the screen door was a woman past middle age. Her dark hair was short and framed a classically beautiful face.

      “You must be Kayla,” the woman said, an almost imperceptible Hispanic accent, giving the words a soft lilt. “I’m Maria Wilder.”

      “Mrs. Wilder, thank you for letting me stay with you.”

      Boone’s mother laughed. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t met everyone.”

      Boone opened the door and motioned Kayla inside. She glanced back, worried he wouldn’t go in with her. But he did. The lifeline was intact.

      “I’m putting you upstairs in Boone’s old room. Janie is just down the hall from you with Essie and Allie. Michaela is across the hall. Jase and Lucas are on the other side of her. We’re downstairs if you need anything.”

      “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry for putting you out this way,” she started to explain.

      Maria Wilder waved a hand. “Don’t be silly. We don’t mind.”

      She led Kayla up the stairs to a bedroom that was small but bright and airy. A quilt covered the twin bed. A rocking chair nearby had another quilt folded over the arm. Braided rugs in soft spring colors were scattered on the wood floor.

      “It isn’t much but it’s clean. And most of Boone’s smelly past has been evicted. Shoes, clothes, high school uniforms that got shoved in corners and forgotten.” Maria Wilder turned down the blanket on the bed.

      “It’s perfect.”

      Boone’s mother gave her a quick hug. “Are you hungry?”

      “Prepare to be fattened up, Stanford.”

      His mother swatted at his arm. “Behave. No one likes to go to bed hungry. And young ladies don’t like to be told they need to be ‘fattened up.’”

      “I’m fine, but thank you. We grabbed fast food on our way.”

      Maria made a face. “Bah. Fast food isn’t real food.”

      “Really, I’m fine. But thank you. I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep.”

      Maria glanced at her watch. “You should go to bed now. Morning comes early around here.”

      Kayla covered a yawn. She agreed, it was bedtime. She looked at Boone, who was already heading for the door. The limp she’d noticed previously was more pronounced tonight.

      “Get some sleep and try not to worry.” He stopped just short of exiting.

      She nodded. Of course she wouldn’t worry. She was in a strange home with people she didn’t know. And someone she didn’t know wanted to harm her. What did she have to worry about?

      “Stanford?”

      She met the dark gaze of her protector.

      He smiled that easy smile of his. “Don’t worry.”

      Of course.

      “If you need anything,” Maria said, “don’t hesitate, just ask.”

      They left and she was alone. What she truly needed, they couldn’t give her. She didn’t even know how to put a name on the empty spaces in her heart. For several years she’d filled those spaces up with anger, with rebellion and a lifestyle that had worn her out physically and emotionally.

      She always wondered about the people who seemed emotionally whole and happy. How did they do it, find that happiness?

      Alone she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands splayed on the cottony softness of the quilt. On the stand next to the bed was a Bible. It was small, leather bound and worn. Her gaze wandered from that small book to the needlepoint picture on the wall with a Bible verse she’d heard most of her life. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

      The words were lovely and encouraging. But her heart still felt empty.

      *

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