Lori took a shaky breath. No water. A rancher’s nightmare. Only she was awake. “Well, it is what it is. I’m calling a lawyer. It’s not right that Wade drilled up there.”
“Yeah, I sure wish he’d called me to help him out with that. But calling a lawyer won’t solve the problem. You both need water.”
“But he won’t shut down his well. Maybe a lawyer could make him.”
“But then how’s Wade gonna make it without water? I know you’re pissed at him, but do you really want to see the man ruined?” Bill paused, staring absently at her useless well. “You know, I think your only good solution is to work something out with Wade. Maybe a water sharing program. Use his well. It’s so close, we’d just have to run a line down the hill to your land and you’d be set. Of course you’d have to agree on the terms. How much water you each get, how to split any maintenance cost on the well, an irrigation schedule, all that.”
“What if he won’t share?”
Bill shot her a look of fatherly humor. “Wasn’t it you who trounced my boy Elliot on the high school debate team senior year?”
Lori smiled at the memory. “He was tough to beat.”
“But you did it with style. We were all impressed. So just use those skills. You’ll talk Wade into it.”
She remembered the stubborn set to Wade’s jaw yesterday. The steel determination in his eyes when he talked about the ranch. She didn’t share any of Bill’s confidence in her persuasive skills when it came to Wade.
And even if he said yes, would that be a good thing? Just seeing him yesterday had brought so much back. How alone she’d felt, away at college, a few weeks after he’d left her with his harsh words. When she’d found out she was pregnant.
Yesterday those memories had come back. And they’d made her cry, and she didn’t want to be that pathetic girl, crying over him. The girl who’d been so lost, she’d made a decision she’d regretted ever since. But yesterday afternoon, sobbing in her truck by the side of the road, that’s exactly who she’d been.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Bill. Maybe you can help me get some contacts and look into bringing water in?”
“I can. But it will cost you an arm and a leg. Look, I know Wade is a Hoffman. And that family was hard and mean and wrong in their ways. But Wade was never involved in much of their activities, and a lot of time has gone by since then. Plus, I heard that he’s served our country. It’s a shame our town hasn’t treated him better since he’s been back.”
Lori had never heard Bill talk so much. She just wished he’d decided to get loquacious about a different subject.
“All I’m saying, Lori, is that I think we’re all going to have to work together if our ranches are going to make it. We’ve all cut our herd size, but a lot of people are talking about selling out entirely. So if you don’t want to go bust, I think you and Wade should put your heads together and see what you can come up with.”
Lori wasn’t willing to put her head, or any other part of her body, together with Wade Hoffman. She’d made that mistake once already, with tragic results.
She watched Bill’s truck rattle slowly down the dirt road back toward the main barn. When he was out of sight, she leaned against the water tank and stared up at the austere cliffs above her, looking for answers in the way the light and shadow played across the sheer granite slabs. She loved these mountains. Had always felt so at home here. But with the drought, her sense of home had never seemed more tenuous. Families were leaving. Ranching was becoming more difficult than ever. What if she failed, too?
People depended on her. Especially her sister—sweet, quiet Mandy. Worry churned inside. If the ranch folded, Lori could go east and work for someone else. But what would Mandy do without the ranch? Her whole world was the ranch house, her kitchen, her pets.
Bill was right. Sinking thousands of dollars into drilling deeper for water was a gamble. And with so much to lose, Lori couldn’t afford to roll the dice. Trucking in water would bust her budget wide open. Which meant she’d just have to put on her big girl pants and head back over to Wade’s. And beg.
“YOU NEVER MENTIONED that Wade Hoffman was back.” The words escaped the moment Lori stepped into the coffee-scented kitchen. She hadn’t meant to say them. But dreams of Wade had haunted her all night.
Mandy’s big blue eyes went even wider. “I didn’t know he was back.”
“Well, he is.” Lori told her sister, “Right down the road, trying to get Marker Ranch up and running.”
“I had no idea.” Mandy went to the coffeepot and filled two mugs. She held one out. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.” Lori took the cup but couldn’t let the topic go. “But you’re the one who goes to town all the time. You do our shopping and you bake for people. You’re constantly trying to talk people into adopting some stray animal or another... How can you not have heard the juiciest piece of gossip to hit the town of Benson in years?”
Mandy sighed. “I don’t know... I guess I’m not one for gossip. You know me...” Mandy’s sentence trailed off, and she looked away, out the kitchen window.
Lori didn’t need her to finish the sentence because she knew how it ended. Mandy was quiet—living in her own world of sweet domesticity. She’d been that way ever since their mom had died, and when Lori tried to talk to her about it, she always got that same line. You know me... I’m just quiet.
Which wasn’t really true. Mandy hadn’t always been quiet. She’d been bubbly and happy, a typical adolescent girl. But Mandy had been with their mom riding in the mountains on the day she died. Mom’s horse had startled, rearing up and throwing her off sideways with her foot still caught in the stirrup. She’d been dragged. By the time Mandy caught the horse, it was too late. All these years later and that bubbly, happy girl had never come back.
But Mandy wasn’t unhappy. Just different. She spent her days concocting amazing things in the big farmhouse kitchen. Her baking was out of this world. Lori grabbed a muffin off the cooling rack and bit in. The cinnamon and walnuts were rich and a little tangy on her tongue. “Hey, if the ranch goes under, maybe you could open a bakery and support us. These are incredible.”
Mandy’s cheeks went pink. “They’re okay. I’m still working out the kinks in the recipe. But is it that bad with the ranch? Are we going under?”
Lori’s protective instincts kicked in. “We’re just fine. But if this drought doesn’t end soon, it’s going to get harder.”
“You’ll make it work,” Mandy assured her. “And if I can do anything to help, let me know.”
It was a generous offer. Mandy avoided most of the ranch animals, except for the chickens she raised in the gorgeous coop she’d coaxed their father into building. Those creatures lived in ridiculous luxury under her care.
Instead of ranch work, she’d taken on all the domestic chores—which suited Lori fine. Without Mandy, Lori would probably be eating baked beans out of a can—she was that clumsy in a kitchen. For her, cooking meant burning things, breaking things and always wishing she were outside in the fresh air with the horses and cattle.
Mandy went to the sink to wash her hands. Lori watched her adorable china doll of a sister, wondering if she should be worried about her. They’d both had to grow up fast. Their dad had been so devastated by his wife’s death that he could barely function. That’s when Mandy took over all the house chores so Lori could take on more responsibility around the ranch.
And as the years