The second she felt his strong arms around her, Myka’s pulse began to race. That flicker of life took her by surprise. Unsettled by her reaction, she stepped back.
She stared at the ground for a moment, breathed deeply and looked back up at him. “At least Tanner was spared having to see what has happened to the community. Independence is in trouble.”
He acknowledged the real estate signs lining the street. “I’ve seen things like this on the news, but it’s different when it hits home.”
“IVA held the town together. Luxury—American Style.” Myka took another deep breath. “Now that IVA’s gone, the only way we’re going to survive is by reinventing ourselves.”
He smiled. “So you’re still an optimist?”
She shrugged. “What else can you do?”
“You’ll be staying here, then?”
“I’ll try to stick it out,” she said, “but right now Independence feels like a home with all the children gone. I keep hoping a new industry will move in. The plant is just sitting there, the buildings empty.”
“I passed by on the way in,” he said with a nod.
Her sheep began to gather along the north end of the pasture, which stopped at the front corner of the house. Here, the semi-rural neighborhood was still zoned for certain livestock. Joshua smiled and went over to the fence. They readily let him pet them. His touch was gentle and calmed the sheep even as they clustered around.
This was a side of Joshua few ever got to see, particularly back in the day.
“I feel as if I’ve stepped back in time,” he said. “You still have your Churro sheep. More head than ever, too, if I remember correctly.”
“You bet. They’ve allowed me to fend off the bill collectors. I spin and dye the wool and then sell the yarn on the internet through my store, Myka’s Wooly Dreams.”
“Now that’s the Myka I remember. You always had a knack for turning a bad situation around.”
“Life doesn’t give us much of a choice sometimes,” Myka said softly. “So what are your plans?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Not yet anyway. I need time to figure out my next move. I had to close my architectural firm. My partners and I couldn’t make it work. The downturn in housing hit our company hard. We hung on as long as we could, but in the end, we all knew what had to be done.”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I had heard about that. Every time Bertie visits her daughter Andrea in San Francisco she brings back the latest news.” She felt helpless and didn’t know what else to say about his career, so she changed the topic. “I gather you and Andrea remained good friends.”
He nodded. “She and I would get together for lunch when we could and catch up. It was good to see a familiar face from time to time.”
“And now, here we are,” Myka said.
“Looks like I’ll be fixing up Dad’s house and putting it on the market.” He stared straight out at the for sale signs and didn’t so much as blink. “If you hear of anyone who might be interested, let me know.”
“It’s really a buyer’s market right now,” she warned, even though she knew she didn’t have to.
“I’ll do what I can to spruce up the place and see how it goes.”
Life’s hard knocks appeared to have toughened him and that only added to the raw masculinity that was so much a part of Joshua.
She tore her gaze from his and walked back to her porch. She climbed the three steps.
“That’s one of my nicest memories of home—you spinning yarn out on the porch,” he said, walking to the porch rail.
“This is when I’m happiest. But my days here are numbered unless something more lucrative comes along. I’m a good bookkeeper—one of the last people IVA let go. Despite that, I haven’t been able to find anything in the area, not even over in Painted Canyon, and they’ve got that big mining operation just north of the city.”
“If I was still in business, I would have offered you a job,” he said.
“Running your own company was your dream even before college. It must have been tough walking away.”
Joshua looked out across the valley. “It was, and starting over is going to be even tougher. After you’ve had your own company and called the shots, it’s harder to work for someone else.”
She stood beside him with the porch rail between them. “We each got what we wanted, but we just couldn’t hold on to it.”
“Myka, I’m sorry life’s been so rough on you,” he said, brushing his knuckles across her cheek.
His unexpected touch startled her. As she saw herself reflected in his gaze, she stepped back. She didn’t want pity.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” she blurted. “Sometimes just talking to someone can make things easier.”
“Thanks,” he said. “It was good seeing you here today, Myka, but I better get busy.”
“Before you leave, I need to tell you about Bear,” she said, and explained about his father’s missing pet.
He shook his head. “This is the first time I’ve heard about Dad having a pet. I hope he’s okay, but I can’t keep a dog. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, or even where I’ll be living six months from now.”
“Then if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep him. Will you let me know if he comes back or if you see him? You can’t miss a dog that big. He’s really a sweetheart, so don’t let his appearance or his bark put you off.”
“It was Dad’s house. If he comes back and thinks I’m an intruder...”
“He won’t bite,” she said quickly. Then she added, “He might sit on you, though. He did that to Daniel Medeiros once. Just knocked him to the ground and kept him there until Adam came home. He’s not dangerous, but I should warn you, he does drool a lot.”
Joshua stared at her.
She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. A dog his size doesn’t sneak up on anyone. When he’s running, he sounds more like a pony than a dog, and you can hear him breathing ten feet away. If you see him, just call me—your dad kept my number beside the phone in the living room. Oh, and Bear can be bribed. Carry some dog treats with you. Your dad has a jar of them in the kitchen.”
“So now I’m a dog trainer?”
“Guess so,” she said. “Welcome home, Joshua.”
He laughed.
“If you need any help sorting, carrying or moving stuff, let me know,” she said, pointing to the van. “I figure you’ll want to haul a lot of your father’s things away.”
“The van’s full of stuff from my apartment in San Francisco. As far as Dad’s things, Dan’s coming over later and we’ll handle it.”
They walked back to the van together, and after he got inside and started the engine, he glanced at her through the open window. “Remember that blue sweater you made for me right before I left for college?”
She smiled. “Yeah. It was my first attempt at making something wearable.”
“I’ve still got it, and it’s as warm as ever.” Without waiting for her to answer, he drove forward, then backed into the next driveway down.
She watched him as he propped open the front door of the house, then began to carry in boxes from the van. Although