He helped his mother up from the couch, and she followed him as he left the room with the paperwork in his hand.
“Did you find out anything about your sister?”
Baylor felt the sharpness of the pain in his mother’s voice and shook his head.
He stopped and hugged her. At times like this he wondered how she withstood the pressure of her life. He knew she’d take the blows for each of her children and grandchildren if she could.
KAYLEE HAD TRULY BELIEVED she had a shot this time. When tears she couldn’t stop filled her eyes, she steered the car off the road and shut off the engine. Crying on mountain roads didn’t seem all that smart.
The off-road parking spot had to have been put there for the view, so when the tears passed and since she had no idea what to do next, she viewed.
She stared out at scenery so stunning it almost made her brain hurt. Mountain peaks soared in the distance. The midafternoon sun danced in sparkles off the melting snow around her car. The tops of tall pine trees peeked out from the deep canyon beside the road, and water burbled down from the rock face that shot straight up on the other side of the car.
She shifted her gaze down to the lump where her lap used to be and put both hands on her swollen belly. “I am so sorry, my little peanut. Mommy had great hopes for this gig.”
She’d spend the night at the Easy Breezy Inn because she’d already paid for and used the room at the only motel in town. Tomorrow, she could head for her mother’s home in Wisconsin. Her mother always said “Anything I can do to help, dear” and always found a reason not to. If KayLee showed up on her doorstep, even her mother might take her in for a week or two until KayLee got a job.
And she’d get a job. She was actually a sane, competent person who was a bit emotional these days. She’d take a firm hold of herself and put things together so they made sense. She always had before and she’d do it again even if that meant leaning on her reluctant mother for a bit.
If her mother wasn’t in a hut on Bali or sharing a rustic villa in the south of France with a couple dozen hippie wannabes, several dogs and maybe her ex-husband.
She took out her mobile phone to see if she could find her mother.
“No bars.” She patted her belly. “It’s us two, baby, baby. As usual.”
The warm sunshine bathed her and relaxed her. She had only driven a few hours this morning to get to St. Adelbert from Missoula for the early afternoon appointment with the Doyle family, but she was so tired. She felt as if she had driven the entire route from Southern California in one day, from the old motel in Ocean-side to be exact.
The motel where she had taken refuge after losing her home was located right next to the junkyard, complete with rottweilers and across the street from the re-sale shop where she was lucky enough to find maternity clothes. She hadn’t been able to afford a motel in the fancy community of La Jolla, where she had shared a home with her husband.
Chad. Handsome. Crazy in a fun wild way. A genius. And why did he have to die without meeting his child? He might have been able to love their baby someday, even if he hadn’t been able to love the baby’s mother for a long time.
She leaned over the steering wheel, put her forehead on her clasped hands and closed her eyes against the hurt.
BAYLOR MOUNTED BLUE MOON, his American Paint Horse, and rode past the barn and deeper into the ranch, down the half-rutted, half-muddy road into the pine forest. He had read all the information gathered on K. L. Morgan and carefully reread the proposal she had left behind. He had spoken with family members individually about what they thought and why. He still had no clear idea of what to do, but he’d always found the best place on the ranch to think was on horseback.
He nudged Blue Moon forward and, when he came to the break in the trees, headed out onto the meadow and let his thoughts and the horse wander.
The Paint chose to meander down toward the stream, and Baylor’s mind came up with full, rosy pink lips below a straight nose, flanked by flushing high cheekbones and long dark blond hair, begging to be picked up and rubbed between finger and thumb.
Baylor fisted the hand that had started to act as if it were feeling her silky hair, and it would be silky.
There was scant room for debate. K. L. Morgan was sexy. Her round curves pressing against the blue dress had captivated him.
He did like the idea of having the buck-stops-here person in the valley overseeing the job full-time. If everything went well, she could have the project up and running in a couple of weeks and he could be gone from the valley sooner rather than later.
The opportunity he’d been offered overseeing several ranches outside of Denver, and outside of this confining corner of Montana, wasn’t going to keep forever. He could live in Denver and keep his Paint at one of the ranches he was overseeing.
He knew he never wanted to leave the ranch life completely behind. Ranching was what he lived and breathed. He couldn’t even imagine himself in a nine-to-five job, but the St. Adelbert Valley offered nothing new, nothing innovative, nothing to catch his interest. He’d wanted out for as long as he could remember.
And he could, without alerting or in some cases alarming his family, try to find Crystal.
J&J Holdings, LLC, had said they’d hold the position for him for sixty days. Nearly half of that time had already passed while they continued the search for someone willing and able to help them build the Shadow Range Eco Ranch at a price they might be able to afford.
The person or persons hired would alter the family homestead forever and ran the risk of destroying the way of life for many generations of Doyles. The decision of whom to hire could not be made on the basis of the looks or the need of the candidate.
With a kernel of an idea, he headed his Paint back toward the barn.
A SHARP RAP ON THE WINDOW beside KayLee’s head woke her, and—FCOL—she almost wet her pants. She snapped her head up to see a man in a sheriff’s uniform standing outside her car with one hand resting on his holstered gun.
No…no crying out loud or crying at all because now she was going to be thrown out of the county at gun-point for loitering and maybe even all the way out of the state, if the size of the sheriff determined how far he’d toss her.
Did they throw you out for loitering in Montana?
She tried desperately to clear her brain of the sleep fog and lowered her window.
“Ma’am. Are you okay?” The big man blocked the late afternoon sun so she didn’t have to squint at him.
Late afternoon! No wonder she needed to find a restroom so badly.
KayLee unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “I think I’m okay, Sheriff Potts,” she said, reading the name off his name tag.
She took inventory. She must have been asleep for at least a couple of hours.
“Ms. Morgan, there are some people looking for you.”
“You know who I am? Of course.” She at least still owned the car she drove.
He waited politely for her to wake up some more.
Wait… Some people? “Some people?” Oh, God. Chad’s creditors had found her. No. They had already taken everything they could. She was finished with them, at least that’s what her attorney had said. “Some people. Who?”
He smiled in at her. A smile was good. A confident smile.
“The Doyle family,” he said in a voice she figured could echo through the canyons if he wanted it to.
“Oh, them.” Her shoulders sagged, followed by her whole body. At least with the bill collectors it hadn’t been personal. With the Doyles it seemed very much so.
“Are