After her shower, Linx plucked Ginger from her doggy bed and changed the sheets and towels. She warmed up a wipe under the faucet and wiped the puppy’s bottom to stimulate her bladder and bowel movement. Normally, a mother dog would lick them and consume the results, but poor little Ginger was orphaned and had to sleep with a hot water bottle.

Linx fed her every two hours, making sure to smother her with plenty of attention, but she wasn’t a good enough substitute mom for the puppy, who cried and whined when uncomfortable.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Guilt swarmed Linx that she’d gone to satisfy her own physical desires while leaving little Ginger without comfort.

The puppy had already gained weight and her front feet were strong, pawing at Linx for affection. The little girl’s eyes were still closed, but she appeared to be peeking out of one eye.

Linx rubbed her face in the puppy’s downy fur, and the tip of the puppy’s tail wiggled.

“You love me, don’t you?” she crooned to the little red ball of fluff. “I don’t want to give you up, but you’ll have a better life with a little boy or little girl.”

After cleaning Ginger and drying her, Linx tucked her under her arm and fed her a bottle of puppy formula.

Tami had gone home already, and it was time for Linx to traipse up to the family ranch for their weekly Friday night fish fry.

Her cousin, Kevin, was a social media whiz and a photographer and videographer, working to set up a dude ranch with her brother, Chad. He’d promised to help her publicize the rescue center using Ginger as the star.

Linx tied a pretty pink bow around Ginger’s neck and tucked her into a small, padded carrier with a hot water bottle wrapped in a cloth diaper.

The little puppy squealed and snuggled up to the water bottle, her tummy full, for now.

On the way, Linx stopped by the town square and picked up Joey and Vivi, her younger twin sisters.

“Oh, she’s so precious,” Joey squealed as she got into the back seat. “May I hold her?”

“Go ahead. She loves to snuggle.” Linx pulled back the puppy’s blanket.

“I want her,” Vivi said, bouncing on her seat. “I could use a watchdog at the store.”

“I could have a diner dog,” Joey said. “We can share her.”

“Do you think there are other puppies like her?” Vivi asked. “Don’t they have larger litters?”

“Maybe this one was a runt, and they abandoned her.” Joey held the puppy close to her face. “I’m in love already.”

“Okay, you two, duke it out.” Linx laughed as she let Cedar lay her head on her thigh and started the ignition.

Linx drove down the switchbacks into the Sierra Valley, a high-altitude valley full of pasture-land and marshes. Her father had a hay farm where he bred horses and raised range-fed cattle and pasture-fed pigs.

Her mother, meanwhile, had run away twenty years ago when Linx was five years old, but all of her siblings, except for Becca who’d gone away to law school, still lived in the county.

Dear old Dad had miraculously held the family together, along with her grandmother who’d passed away six years ago.

Linx had grown up pretty much on her own on that ranch, hiding out in the wilderness and exploring all the back trails. While her older brothers helped their father, and Becca did the cooking and mothering, she had been left alone since Gran was busy tending to the twins.

She lowered the windows, letting the crisp breeze rattle into the SUV. Cedar left her lap and stuck her head out as they joggled down a country road, past antique barns and miles of grassland. The sun was setting over the majestic mountain peaks behind them, brushing the sky with grand purple and orange hues.

Like the gold still hidden in the hills, she was here to stay, and no city boy would ever drive her away.

* * *

“How are my girls?” Linx’s father took off his hat and clambered through the farmhouse door. He was as rugged and handsome as ever, even though his hair was gray all the way through and his blue eyes crinkled from working outside in the sun.

“Look at Linx’s puppy,” Vivi said, holding up Ginger who squealed and pawed at the air.

“Your mom would have loved her.” Dad cupped his big hands to receive the puppy. “She had a thing for red hair—thought it brought good luck.”

Mom had been gone twenty years, and Dad still spoke about her as if she were right around the corner. While other men would have gotten angry and forgotten about a runaway wife, good old Joe Colson would only look at the positive—how their mother, Minx, was a free spirit, and how she had to follow her muse, and how talented and creative she was.

Oh, she was beautiful enough in her day to wrap their father, good old Joe Colson, around her pinkie, and enchant him to the extent that he gave her free rein to express herself: erecting large metallic sculptures made of railway spikes, rusted cast iron skillets, nuts, bolts, and whatever pieces of metal she could scavenge from the junkyard, combine it with animal bones, skin, leather, and feathers, and call it art.

But taking care of and disciplining children? Cooking and cleaning? No, thank you. If it weren’t for their dear departed grandmother, the Colson kids would all have been delinquents—with Linx the worst one of all.

“Let me see that little runt.” Kevin, who was the mayor’s son, pointed his phone camera at the sisters. Behind him, her brother Chad grinned and asked, “Think that dog’s part Australian shepherd? I want me a red one, for good luck.”

“You and your red for good luck superstitions.” Linx shook her head. Why was everyone so hung up on what their mom believed? Was Linx the only one who hated their mother for abandoning them?

Linx had been five when it happened, and the only thing she could remember was her mother’s flaming dyed red hair and the colorful tie-dyed sunburst shirts she used to wear. There had been no hugs, no cookie bakes, no kissing owies, or any of the other motherly things she saw on TV.

Nope, Tami’s mother had been more doting on Linx than her own, and as the years went by and she saw how other mothers sacrificed their time and energy for their children, she began to understand why her mother, the free and artistic spirit, had to run away from seven demanding children.

She, too, would have been a horrible mother.

“Are Todd and Scott going to make it tonight?” Dad asked after Kevin finished taking pictures and videos of Ginger from all angles.

“Todd’s on his way, but Scott’s on duty,” Joey replied. “Becca’s on a case in San Francisco, and Uncle Chip has a meeting at the Sixty Miners.”

Her position at the diner made her the central switchboard when it came to information around town, with Vivi not far behind at the general store selling everything from groceries and hardware to flowers and craft supplies.

“Chad and Kevin took a bunch of tourists out fishing and caught a whole load of trout,” Dad said. “We got them all dipped and fried up already.”

Since Becca was absent, Linx took the seat opposite her father at the end of the table where a mother traditionally sat. Tonight, she was the eldest female of the bunch.

After Dad said grace, everyone passed the fish and salad around the table. Dad asked Joey how business was and went over kitchen safety with her, while Vivi was all over Chad and Kevin about the tourist activities and what items she should stock for the summer

Todd rushed in halfway through dinner, looking harried and overworked. He slung his jacket across the empty chair next to Linx and served himself a large portion of fish and chips.

“Busy day?” Linx asked. “What happened? A rash of lockouts? Or did you catch Tami speeding through the town again?”

Todd grunted and chewed his food slowly, his cheeks reddening at the mention of Tami.

“Come on, spit it out,” Linx teased. “Tami was on her way to the Sixty Miners Saloon. Did you meet her there for Happy Hour? Is that why you’re late?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I caught Grady Hart speeding around Dead Man’s curve. Gave him a big fat ticket.”

“And that made you late? Couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.” Linx studied her brother’s flushed face. A light sheen of sweat dampened his forehead as he chewed his food.

“That man’s a menace.” Todd thumped his water glass on the tabletop. “I don’t want that playboy within fifty feet of any of my sisters.”

“He doesn’t bother me,” Linx said, wondering what crawled up her brother’s craw.

“Have you forgotten the pain he put you through?”

“I’m a big girl,” Linx said. “It’s over and done with, and I want to move on.”

“How the heck are you going to move on when he’s a walking reminder?” Todd set his fork down with a thump. “I heard he was flirting with Joey at the diner. Does that not concern you?”

“Then keep him out of the diner,” Linx retorted. “And while you’re at it, he should stay away from Vivi, too.”

She hadn’t told her family the identity of the man who’d gotten her pregnant, but somehow, in the past few months, they all seemed to have figured it out—with Todd being the most belligerent. Could Tami have slipped up?

“I’ll let him know the general store is off limits too, all except Friday evening when Vivi and Joey are here,” Todd plowed on, oblivious to her sarcasm. “Him being around town has started the gossip mill going. You know what they’re saying about him and your friend, Salem?”

“They were jump partners. No big deal.” Linx kept her voice steady as she stirred dressing into her salad.

“Is that all you think it was?” Todd said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Paul thinks Grady caused her death. Apparently, he whispered something in her ear right before her fatal jump. He says Salem was pregnant and he suspects Grady was the father.”

“That man must have holes in his condoms,” Linx said, before a cold sliver of fear slithered down her spine. “What do you think he said to her?”

Todd’s eyes darkened. “Maybe he accused her of lying. Maybe he said he wasn’t taking responsibility. In any case, it messed up Salem’s concentration and she ended up drifting into the fire.”

Linx crumpled a napkin in her fist. “That’s horrible. Poor Salem.”

“Right. He has to be stopped,” Todd said. “I don’t care if he knocks up all the women in California, he’s not touching my town and my sisters. You call me anytime if he gives you any trouble. You hear?”

“He’s not giving me trouble,” Linx said. “Besides, he’ll roll his stone out of here soon. The less attention we pay him, the sooner he’ll be gone.”

“I’m not so sure.” Todd scratched his five o’clock stubble. “I did some patrolling and he’s cleared the mess from his plot of land. Ordered building materials.”

“He’s rebuilding?” Linx felt a mixture of hope and despair war inside of her.

“Maybe he’s flipping it to sell, you know, increase the value and sell it to one of those San Francisco millionaires.” Todd shrugged as he stuffed another filet in his wide mouth. “Yesterday he called Scott and had him inspect the burnt foundation. Claims the fire started on the back porch.”

“Back porch? How? It usually starts on the roof—you know where a burning ember lands.” Linx’s mouth went dry. “Are you saying it was arson?”

“Scott thinks it was. It’s been years and many rainstorms have gone by, but he remembers inspecting the ruins and thinking it could have been arson.”

“Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“Grady was out of the country, and no one filed a complaint.” Todd shrugged. “We had a rash of fires back then, so it kind of got lost in the shuffle.”

“It’s happening again.” Joey looked up from her phone, her face ashen. “Scott just texted. The Hart cabin up near the creek is on fire.”