“Nice try, Grady, but I’m not buying it.”
Riona “Rio” Hunter confidently shook her head as her older brother pulled a weathered suitcase out of her pickup truck and set it in the gravel at her booted feet. She gave him a serenely sweet smile, knowing his idea of welcoming her back to mountain country Arizona after a week’s absence at a spiritual retreat would be to try to get her riled. “Grandma Jo wouldn’t do something like that behind my back.”
And certainly not right when they’d gotten word of a potential opportunity for a much-needed financial boost. Tallington Associates, an events coordinating company, would soon be evaluating the family-run Hunter’s Hideaway that catered to outdoor enthusiasts as a possible recommended site for client gatherings. If all went as hoped, that contractor could be arranging bookings for years to come.
Grady shrugged. “Well, Grandma did do it. Like I said, Cashton Herrera interviewed several days ago, an offer was made and he’ll be back to sign on the dotted line sometime today.”
No way. She stared up at him. Was he telling the truth? Both he and their other brother, Luke, were masters at keeping a straight face when they wanted to. Although Rio had plans to leave the family business later that summer and return to college, Grandma wouldn’t hire someone without consulting her, would she? Rio’s reservation for the out-of-state getaway had been made months ago, and Grandma couldn’t wait one week for her to return?
Narrowing her eyes, she gave Grady a good-humored push. “Liar.”
With a laugh, he reached out to playfully tug on the ponytail draped over her shoulder. “I’m not lying, Rio. It’s a done deal. Ask her. Ask Mom and Dad. Cash arrives today to start as your assistant, then will step into full responsibility when you take off in August.”
He was serious.
Grandma Jo hired a man—who not only had a reputation like that of his father for settling scores with his fists, but had even done jail time for striking a woman—to work with Rio?
“So you’re telling me none of you voiced objections or bothered to call me so I could voice mine?” A pang of betrayal echoed in her heart. Knowing what they did regarding her past—and her intentions for the future—how could they be so insensitive? “You all know how I feel about men who hit.”
They weren’t real men.
Grady frowned, undoubtedly reminded of the distressing events at the conclusion of her freshman year at college. “Cash didn’t try to hide his county jail record on the application form. And you already know Grandma followed up with his references, including a deputy sheriff who’s been mentoring Cash for over three years and who personally doesn’t believe he hit his ex-wife.”
“But a judge and jury did believe it.” With a huff, Rio grabbed the handle of her wheeled suitcase, dragging it toward the porch steps of her parents’ cabin where, at twenty-one, she still resided. But not much longer, God willing.
Grady, swiftly blocking her way, reached down and relieved her of her luggage. “Come on now, calm down. You know Grandma Jo did this because she loves you and wants to give you the opportunity to chase your high-flying dreams.”
He made it sound as if they were a passing fancy with no more substance than a soap bubble. As if she were a cute kitten fruitlessly attempting to pounce on a flitting butterfly and would soon tire and lose interest.
“But why did Grandma have to do interviews while I was out of town? And despite our looking at several promising applications, she picked a man like Cash?” Rio jerked her suitcase away from her brother, suspecting Grandma Jo had her eye on Cash all along and moved swiftly to hire him while her granddaughter was absent.
“He has an impressive background with horses, as well as dude ranch experience. And he aced the interview.”
“But we both know,” she almost growled, “that Grandma has a rescuer complex. She’s big on second chances.”
That’s why she’d hired Cash’s father those many years ago, wasn’t it? And look how that turned out.
Rio abruptly shoved her suitcase back in her brother’s direction. “Here, please take this and my other stuff inside. Tell Mom I won’t be gone long, but I have to talk to Grandma.”
“You’re too late.” He had the nerve to smile. Clearly she’d lost the ally she thought she’d have in Grady.
“We’ll see about that.”
Ignoring his chuckle, she spun on her booted heel and headed for a shortcut through the tall-trunked ponderosa pines leading to the Hideaway’s main complex.
Cashton Herrera, of all people. As a skinny, dark-eyed boy six years her senior, he’d found it amusing to lock her in a utility closet when she was four years old—and that was just the beginning of his mischief at her expense. She was willing to concede that boys could be boys and grow up to be decent men. But jail time, well, that was an entirely different matter.
Up ahead through the trees she glimpsed the adjoining buildings that composed the heart of Hunter Enterprises—Hunter’s Hideaway. A family business for six generations if you included the offspring of her four siblings, Hunter’s Hideaway catered to hunters, horsemen, hikers and others who enjoyed spending time in the great outdoors.
Located not too far outside small-town Hunter Ridge, the property featured an inn, restaurant and general store. Guest cabins were scattered throughout a vast acreage that abutted National Forest Service property, and it was here that in addition to clerking, waiting tables and cleaning guest rooms, Rio managed seasonal trail and hay rides with assistance from a cousin and summer hires. But her cousin J.C., who she’d been counting on to take over for her when she headed back to college, had dashed off to chase his own rainbows.
So she was stuck here unless Cash proved capable of taking over her responsibilities. But even if he had the know-how to run the operation, how could she leave a man like him totally in charge? Hot tempers and ready fists wouldn’t mix well with horses, guests or staff. Knowing how she’d feel about the new hire, was this a ploy on Grandma’s part to keep her granddaughter from leaving?
As she stepped out from under the thick canopy of pine branches into a cloudless midmorning of the third week in May, she glimpsed a county sheriff’s department SUV off to the side of the parking lot. And gritted her teeth.
Deputy Braxton Turner leaned casually against the vehicle, shooting the breeze with her older brother Luke. Which tattletale told Brax she’d arrive home today? It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. He was a nice enough guy—the attention he focused on her not nearly as irksome as that