Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range by Danica Favorite (summer beach reads txt) 📕

the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. “You better believe it.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. The Ford chugged, mindless of the emotional state of its passengers. Over the various odors associated with automobiles, he caught the clean whiff of Mary’s scent. That tantalizing, exotic flavor that had so tormented him when he’d been stuck in bed.

Scowling, he leaned toward her. “You haven’t been just a housekeeper in years, little lady, so get used to the fact that you mean more to us than some woman doing the laundry. You’re special. And you know you could’ve left at any time, but you didn’t. Why not?”

“I—I don’t know.” Her eyes never left his face, studying him as though she wanted to read the depths of him.

Deliberately he held her gaze. “You’ve been afraid.”

She broke the visual standoff. “Perhaps. Can we go home now?”

He slammed the clutch down, and the Ford jumped forward. “Holding things inside isn’t healthy.” It struck him how alone she’d been for the past twelve years, how unnatural that aloneness must be. “Don’t you want to move on with your life? Maybe not get married, but form relationships? Time slips away too fast and you’ll be old before you know it.”

“I find your comments ironic. While you’ve been traipsing all over the world, I’ve built the friendships I want. It is you who has been alone. As for secrets...” Her voice trailed off.

“What?” he said, more harshly than he’d intended.

“I see the way you look at Josie. There is something you hide from, perhaps run from.” She shifted, and he felt that probing gaze again, digging, searching.

He gripped the wheel. “So we both have issues. I’m just worried you’ll never have a normal life. You’re young, smart and talented. You should use your skills to create a better life.” This was the moment he needed to tell her the truth. Why did he feel so badly over it?

“I’m selling the ranch,” he said quickly.

There was a sharp intake of breath as she absorbed that information.

“I’m going to make sure you’re well cared for,” he rushed on. His face felt so hot he could light a wildfire with his cheeks. “You could work for the new owners of the ranch. I noticed a small store for rent in town. Maybe you’d like to open a shop or something.” He chanced a look at her and his stomach flopped at the look on her face.

Expressionless and pale.

Why did she hold everything in? This was all his fault.

Jaw tight, he stared forward. “You hear me?”

“I hear you. I’ll pray and see what God wants me to do.”

“God? Really? And you think He’ll answer you?”

“You think He won’t?” she countered, and a new strength had entered her voice, challenging him, battling the belief that had helped him survive the loss of his wife and child.

“Experience has proved that when a man needs God, He doesn’t show up.”

“Perhaps you’ve measured God by the wrong experiences.”

His teeth ground. Sharp pain shot through his chest. Suddenly he was overwhelmingly angry, so enraged he wanted to spill everything that had happened, show her just how faithful this God of hers was. But a man didn’t talk about things like his wife and daughter dying in his arms. It didn’t feel right to share, even though the words pulsated on his tongue, straining to rip free of the cage he’d put them in.

“Lou,” she said quietly, “I don’t know what happened in your past, but you’re not the only one to have suffered pain.” A small catch in her voice caught on the word pain, leaving it hanging between them, a shattered sound in the noisy automobile.

In that moment, the anger drained out of him, leaving him tired and empty. He opened his mouth, rotating his jaw, trying to loosen what felt tighter than his trigger finger on a loaded gun.

He wanted to explain to Mary, even though she was the type who never nagged for explanations. She was the kind of woman who waited patiently, who didn’t press for what she wanted. It was both her strength and her flaw.

The road stretched before them, long and windy, the jagged horizon only hinting at what lay beyond.

“Sometimes it’s easier to blame God,” he finally said. Because she didn’t seem to blame Him for the things that had happened to her, which made him wonder why he did.

“True.”

He made to look at her, but a figure ahead on the left grabbed his attention.

“Lou, there’s a woman walking on the road.”

“I see her.” He steered to the right, passing her safely and at a distance. The woman’s silver-laced black hair streamed behind her and she wore the traditional garb of a Paiute.

Mary twisted in the seat, peering behind them.

“Stop,” she said.

He looked at her. “Now?”

“Yes, stop the car!”

He slowed, but before he’d fully stopped, she opened her door and scrambled out.

Mary darted across the rough road, the sun in her eyes as she raced toward her mother. “Mother,” she shouted.

Rose shuffled along, ignoring Mary, even when she skidded to a stop in front of her. She placed her hands on her mother’s shoulders, mindful of the fragile frame beneath her fingers. “Where are you going?”

“You should not be here,” her mother whispered. Her gaze landed somewhere behind Mary. Wind raked up the dusty road.

Mary squinted against the debris. “Come with me, to my home. It isn’t safe for you to walk these roads alone.”

“No.”

“Please, I can take care of you.”

“There is danger in these hills....” Rose’s voice trailed ominously.

A cold tremor shivered its way down Mary’s spine. Sometimes it seemed danger lurked everywhere. Running from it solved nothing.

And yet the vacancy of her mother’s gaze was alarming, to say the least. Frowning, Mary slid her hands away and tried to meet her mother’s eyes.

“Where are you going? I will take you.”

“He will find us.” Her mother’s shoulders began to shake, small ripples of movement almost lost in the dirt-laden breeze. Long strands of hair