Zachary Brandt wasn’t a coward.
Not usually.
He hovered behind a curtain at the picture window that looked out onto his front yard as Nadine Campbell drove her sporty little black car onto his ranch.
In rural Montana on the outskirts of small-town Rodeo, home of dusty, domestic, practical pickup trucks, Nadine scooted around the countryside in her spotless, foreign car.
He should be out on his porch in full view to greet her, not hiding here inside, building up his resolve.
She parked, adjusted her rearview mirror and fiddled with her makeup, the gesture speaking of insecurity he’d noted in the past.
Even way back in high school, before she’d left town for those eight or so years, she’d been self-conscious about her looks. Zach couldn’t imagine why, or what she was doing to makeup that was never less than perfect.
She smoothed her long, red hair, as glossy as glass. Nadine belonged in Rodeo about as much as a racehorse might, an elegant, refined filly among a bunch of stolid workhorses.
“Whatcha doin’, Dad?”
Zach startled. No wonder. He’d just been caught spying on a visitor rather than stepping outside to welcome her. He glanced over his shoulder. His twin sons stood in the living room doorway. They weren’t the only ones who’d caught him; Zach’s father had, too.
Dad raised an eyebrow. Ryan and Aiden watched him with Maria’s deep brown eyes and wide, full-lipped mouths. She might not have left Zach with much, but she’d given him these two treasures and for that he would always be grateful.
They stepped forward and crowded him at the window. Staring out at Nadine, Aiden whispered, “Pretty.”
Understatement. Nadine could give lessons in pretty to the Montana countryside, and Zach thought that was damned stunning.
“Who is she, Dad?” Ryan asked.
“Her name is Nadine Campbell, and she’s a reporter for the newspaper.”
“I saw her before in town,” Aiden said. “She’s got red hair.”
As red as red could be.
“What’s she doing here?” That was Ryan, as curious as ever.
“She’s going to interview me.”
Ryan looked up, not as far as he used to. His kids were growing too fast. Seven years old already. “What about? Our ranch?”
“Partly. She wants to talk about my paintings, but they wouldn’t exist without the ranch. Right?”
“Right,” Ryan answered. He’d heard it all from his dad before, about how his paintings were an outward expression of his love of his land. Then a knowing smile lit his face. “But you’re gonna get her to talk about the ranch!”
Zach ruffled his hair. “You’re too smart to be a kid. Are you an adult in disguise?”
Ryan pressed into his hand.
Zach’s quiet son, Aiden, stood in front of him, leaning back against his legs. Zach settled a hand on his shoulder.
Nadine’s car door opened. He didn’t want to be caught staring. “Come away from the window.” He tried to herd them from the room, but Dad stepped brazenly in front of the window with a mischievous smile hovering on his lips.
“Nadine Campbell.” Zach’s father pretended to think, but his eyes sparkled. “Hmm. Name sounds familiar.”
“Of course it’s familiar,” Zach snapped. “You know everyone in town.” His dad’s feigned ignorance didn’t fool him. The man knew who Nadine was. Did he realize what she used to mean to Zach?
Did he realize what she could still mean to him if Zach had his way?
Second chances rarely happened in real life. Sometimes a man had to grasp that second chance with both hands before it slipped away. A determined man did, at any rate. Zach had managed to spend years, long swathes of time, forgetting about Nadine, but here she was back on his ranch.
“I remember her from years ago before she left town,” Dad said.
Maybe Dad had known how Zach had felt. He could be intuitive...when it suited him.
“She stood out, back then,” Dad said.
“Pop, let’s go,” Zach insisted, trying to get his father to step away from the window. “Get away from there.”
Aiden shrugged off Zach’s hand on his shoulder and joined his grandfather at the window. Ryan did the same thing.
“She’s getting out of the car!” Ryan shouted.
“Modulate, Ryan,” Zach said.
“She’s got pretty shoes on,” Aiden whispered.
Aiden spoke too low. Ryan lived at full volume. If only Zach could even them out. On second thought, no. Each was perfect in his own way.
“Those shoes will get wrecked,” Pop said.
A thought occurred to Zach. “How come you remember her from when she was a teenager?”
His father pretended to look surprised. What game was he playing? “She came out here once with a bunch of kids when you were in high school, for some project or other.”
“Yes, she did.” Zach remembered that visit with vivid discomfort.
“She didn’t like the ranch,” Pop said, bringing back Zach’s disappointment.
It had hurt his teenage ego. The ranch