On the drive back to the ranch, Fort and Cori ironed out the specifics. Because he didn't want his election to be won on a lie, they decided she would leave him before then. It was unfortunate about the ring since that complicated matters. The plan was she would slip away quietly, and he would tell everyone she missed Texas too much. She thought she could leave her hometown, but found she couldn’t. Funny enough, until this moment, Cori would have believed that to be true. Her love for Brewster and nostalgia for home had kept her there for a decade trying to repair everything broken. Now, watching the mountains roll by, the purple and orange sky was stunning. It captivated her like an enchantress, and as Fort spoke, she found herself agreeing to everything. She was more interested in letting the beauty of the landscape wash over her.

Maybe when she was done helping Fort, she could explore more of the West. Pack up her beat-up old car and point it away from Brewster. Picturing it made the heavy weight that had sat upon her chest lift slightly. Sabrina was right. She should have gotten away a long time ago.

Fort and Cori also worked out a schedule of when they'd be seen together. Since conversation between them deteriorated quickly into bickering, in order to pull this off, they'd need to limit their time together. They would make sure they were seen in town often enough, but would feign an interest to be alone to avoid extended time together.

They arrived at the ranch moments before the sun slipped away for the day. Cori jumped out of the truck and took a hearty breath of air. Man, she loved the smell of a ranch. The mix of tooled leather, pine, spruce, and a tad manure. She closed her eyes and took in another deep inhalation. The scent was as familiar to her as her own. This was how she defined hearth and home.

“You have Angus?” She whiffed again and then opened her eyes. In Texas, his father had won and ran Hereford before he'd lost it all.

“Yeah, Ma's family has kept Angus for several generations.”

“No dairy?” she asked while checking the landscape and structures before her. “Wow, its breathtaking here.”

“I know. Makes ranching easy when you look at that everyday.” He gestured to the foothills. “We don't have dairy. All beef. Some goats and, of course, chickens.”

They stood in silence as the sun slipped away, leaving them engulfed in the dark blue of night. A light on the porch clicked on.

“Ma knows we’re here. Come on, let's get this over with.” He lifted her luggage from the truck bed then started toward the large one-story house.

“Wait,” Cori said, catching up with him. “Does you mom know the deal, or are we...you know...going to lie to her?” Ugh, she hated the thought. From what she remembered of Fort's mom, she was kind and soft-spoken. “You have to fill me in on what I should know.”

“Ma remarried. Boneta is her last name. I have a kid brother, Mathias.” He grinned that stupid grin people do when they talk about their loved ones. “But you can still call her Ms. Saira. All the kids do.”

Truthfully, Cori had often wished for Ms. Saira to be her mom instead of Barbie, who was obsessed with two things: to stop aging and for Cori to win Miss Junior Texas Pageant, the crème of the crop for pageants. Toward the end, any pageant would have done. Cori believed there was no way Barbie was ever pregnant and wondered if she was hatched from an egg, or the more likely scenario considering her parents, that they'd stolen her, and Cori had a real family out there missing her. Too bad she looked a lot like her father for the latter to have any merit.

“You sure you don't want to tell your mother?”

Fort paused. “Ma can't lie to save her life. Someone will ask her if she's excited or happy for us and she'll say yes, but her face will say it’s a lie. I hate to say this, but I think we're better off keeping her in the dark.”

Cori groaned.

“It's not my preference either. None of this is. I'd like to win the election based on my merit.” He left her standing in the driveway.

She ran up to him again. “Maybe before I leave I can explain everything to her?”

“Maybe, if that’s what you'd like. Let's take it day by day,” he said, tromping up the stairs.

Cori stopped short, admiring the house. From the welcome mat to the boots lying on the side by the door, it made her think of family. She said softly, “I think I would feel better if speaking to her was part of the plan.” She stood back and took it in.

It was a long rambler-style house, painted white with black trim. The front porch extended the length and offered seating for a perfect view to watch the sunset. Hanging baskets swung in the slight breeze with blue and yellow flowers spilling over their tops. She climbed the stairs and ran her hand over a rocking chair. She made it a high priority to watch the sun set tomorrow. Her family home was tall, made from gray brick, and not nearly as homey. It was still sitting empty, many of the windows broken.

Fort waited for her at the front door. “Off the kitchen we have a deck where you can watch the sunrise. If you're up early enough.” He pushed open the door, and Cori followed him in.

Inside the house was even more inviting. Gingham, overstuffed chairs with pillows made from ticking. Family pictures on tables and walls. Boots tossed by a closet and hats on a rack by the door. The lamp was on, giving the living room a yellow and inviting feel, as did the smell of sizzling beef and an assortment of spices and the singing that came from the kitchen.

“Ma,” Fort called down the hall as he placed Cori's bags by the door.

“I thought you all were going to stay in the yard forever,” Saira Boneta said.

Cori peeked over Fort’s shoulder. His mother, looking exactly like she had all those years ago in Brewster except for some gray in her hair, was coming down the hallway wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

“I hope you all are hungry. I put on the steaks.”

“I'm starved,” Cori said and came from around Fort.

Ms. Saira gasped. “Corinne Walters? Is that you?”

“Yes ma'am.” Cori blushed, half from pleasure that his mom remembered her and half from embarrassment at what Ms. Saira would most likely say next. Everything always came back to her father's crimes.

Ms. Saira tossed the towel over her shoulder and wrapped Cori in her arms. “You sure have grown into a beautiful woman. Look at you. You're stunning.” She stepped back, scanned Cori up and down, and then hugged her again.

Cori cheeks ignited with heat. She hadn't been expecting a compliment.

Ms. Saira continued, “Why ever did you keep this a secret, Fort?” She had held Cori's face between her hands while she addressed her son.

Fort looked between the two of them before saying, “Her dad is why. Wasn't sure it was a good idea.”

As if Cori wasn't already red-faced enough. Fort telling his mom he was embarrassed to be dating her was humiliating. Granted, they weren't really dating, but whatever. It implied she was desperate enough to be with a guy who didn't want to be seen with her.

“That's stupid,” Ms. Saira said. “Plain and simple. Now let's go eat.” She hustled them to the kitchen and went about finishing the meal.

She peppered Cori with questions about her mother, and after learning Cori still lived in Brewster, some about the small town and people as well. They ate, the conversation flowing. Cori and Fort sat across each other, and for as inviting as his mother was, a barrier sat bulky between Cori and Fort.

“You'll like Wolf Creek. I think the excessive heat of Texas has warped the minds of those in Brewster.” Ms. Saira laughed. “I'm glad to see it hasn't done that to you.” She squeezed Cori's hand, then tapped the ring on her finger. “Are we going to talk about this?”

Fort coughed on his after-dinner coffee. Cori stared down at the large stone. It was huge and sparkled from the kitchen light. Cori wasn't surprised at how well it fit. That was Sabrina; details were her forte.

“Um, well...” Cori searched for words, any that wouldn't be a lie.

“It's real simple, Ma. Cori and I want to be together. We're just not sure if it'll work, what with her still living in Brewster and me here. Then there's the history between our families. Why do you think we waited so long for her to come visit?”

His mother's eyes narrowed.

Cori figured she probably had a BS meter too, and wasn't buying it. “After my dad went to jail, we had to sell off everything to pay back any of what he took. Restitution. That's been my job all these years.” Fort sat forward suddenly, and she quickly cut her eyes to him, then back to his mother. “My dad hurt a lot of people and I, on some level, helped him do that. We haven't paid back near enough to right all the wrong. My past has made me slower to get involved. Fort's been patient and understanding, and though I want to be with him, I'm not in any rush.”

“What do you mean you helped him?” Ms. Saira asked.

“I didn't know I was helping. It was before high school, before I could even conceive of a parent taking advantage of their own child. What I thought was a normal chat with dad while we went for ice cream was actually his way of fleecing me for information. Kids talk, and I would repeat what I heard at school, thinking maybe my dad, the mayor, could help.” Cori gave a derisive laugh. “Little did I know.”

Ms. Saira took Cori's hand in hers. “That's not your fault. You deserve a life, child. A happy one. You'll never be able to fix everything that he did. At some point, you'll need to walk away.” She gave her hand a squeeze.

Cori blinked away the moisture gathering in her eyes. “Easier said than done.”

Ms. Saira took her in her arms and gave Cori a tight hug, rubbing her back in comfort. “While you're here, you need to promise to relax and have fun.”

“I can do that,” Cori said as they pulled apart. She stifled a yawn.

“Jeepers, Fort. Get this girl to bed. She's exhausted.” Ms. Saira brushed her thumb across Cori's cheek, wiping away a run-away tear before jumping up and shooing them from the kitchen. She hustled them down the hallway.

“I thought Cori could take the guest room,” Fort said while picking up her luggage.

Mrs. Saira waived dismissively. “Nonsense. The two of you are engaged. You've been dating for years. I'm not naive and have no problem if she stays with you. It'll make life easier for you, Fort. No unnecessary sneaking in or out.” She winked at them.

Cori made a strangled cry, but covered it with a cough.

“No need to be embarrassed, dear,” Ms. Saira said while opening the front door for Fort. She nudged him out and then Cori. “Have a good night,” she said and closed the door behind them.

Fort looked at the door, perplexed. “Ma isn't acting right.”

“You think? Maybe she's on to us,” Cori whispered.

Fort seemed to give her words some thought. “You might be right. Come on, we need to play this through.” He turned and tromped across the yard to the barn, not bothering to see if Cori was following. His place, a small apartment, was accessed by walking through the barn and sat at the rear of the structure.

He kicked open the door, then hit the light switch before dropping her bags by the door. She moved to stand in the center of the room.

“You live in a tiny house,” she said and did a three-sixty.

“What's a tiny house?” For him, he had everything he needed and didn't have to travel far to get it. A counter and sink with a two-burner hot plate made up his kitchen, and across from that was his bed. Ma had installed a curtain down the middle to separate the two spaces and give the bedroom privacy. Something he'd never needed. Until now, he supposed.

A love seat was in the middle of the room and faced the wall where a TV sat on an old iron sewing table turned entrainment stand. Because the floors were barn wood, thick woven carpets of various mismatching colors covered the area. For the first time, he saw the place through someone else's eyes. Yeah, it looked worn but homey, maybe a bit rustic. Possibly enough to put Cori off and keep her from getting attached. Ma fawning over her hadn't helped any.

“A tiny house is precisely this. They're all the rage. The only thing that's needed are wheels to tow it. And maybe minus the barn portion.”

“Does the smell bother you?” He'd long gotten acclimated, but he was told it could be overpowering. Poop had a way of doing that.

Cori beamed. “Nope. I like it actually. Weird, I know.”

Fort bit back a snarky retort. She was definitely a weirdo. “I'm not sure how you want to do this.” When he pointed to the bed, her eyes widened. He shifted his attention to the couch. Tiny indeed. “I suppose I could sleep there.” He'd have to hang his legs over the side, which would be uncomfortable as hell, but he didn't spend every night at home. Mentally going through his schedule, he figured he could reduce a few nights at home further by sleeping out on the prairie with the herd, and he could add sleeping at the station once or twice since he pulled late shifts. It wouldn't be odd to do so. OK, the couch might be doable.

“I'll take the couch.”

“If you insist,” Cori said and picked up her large suitcase.

As a kid, she'd been a pest worthy of an apocalypse. Always around and always had a snarky comment about what he was doing, whether it was breaking a horse, branding a cow, or whom he dated. Her dark hair had been long then, nearly to her backside, but she'd knot it up, tuck it under a hat, or braid it. The short style she now sported suited her. She'd always been a spitfire, but with her longer hair hadn't looked it. Now she did. She pushed up her glasses then swung the bag onto the bed.

“When did you start wearing glasses,” he asked.

“When my vision started to decline.”

“Is that why you stopped participating in beauty pageants?” He knew she’d hated them. They hadn't been her thing, but he couldn't resist a chance to tease her and pretend he thought vanity was why she quit.

She gave him a look that told him she thought he was stupid, stepped up to the curtain, and then jerked it across the room.

Dust went everywhere, and he took small pleasure in listening to her cough.

Fort wasn't sure what to do next. Fatigue helped him decide. He kicked off his boots, then hung his Stetson on the hook by the door. His hands were on the button of his jeans when she slid back the curtain with such force another dust cloud burst around them.

“Jeez, clean much?” She tossed him a pillow. There were two on his bed, and she managed to pick the one he liked best for herself. He caught the flat one and tossed it on the loveseat.

“I'm sorta busy, ya know. Working two jobs. Maybe you could make yourself useful and do it for me.” He went back to his jeans, undid them, and let them drop to the floor.

She rolled her eyes. “Don't hold your breath.” She tugged the curtain closed with less force this time.

Using an old Mexican blanket he got when he was in the Navy and his sleeping bag, Fort made a bed for the smallest person ever, which was not him.

Cori came from around the curtain and went into the bathroom. Her PJs were a T-shirt that reached her knees, and she looked like she could blow away in a strong wind. Or was in dire need of food. He thought back to how much she ate at dinner. A lot. He wondered what the last decade had been like for her. After using the restroom, he folded himself in half and tried to get comfortable on the loveseat. It was kinda hard with his knees higher than his ears and one of his shoulders hanging off the side.

“Dammit it all,” he mumbled and tried to shift, but there was no way to go.

“Shut it,” Cori called from the other side of the curtain.

“You shut it. You're not the one sleeping in a suitcase.”

He never saw her coming. One minute he was trying to balance and not fall of the couch and the next she was standing over him.

“Judas Priest,” he said.

She wasn't wearing her glasses. Her hair stuck up in one spot, likely from the pillow. Holy hell, Cori Walters was a knockout. She wasn't the overdone type. She was classic, and when she smiled, like she was right now, she sucked the breath right from his lungs, the feeling equal to a punch to the solar plexus.

A giggle escaped her.

“You think it's funny?” His arm ached and was tingly from hanging off the side.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Kinda. You do look like you're stuffed in a suitcase.” She hid her grin in her shoulder. When she turned back to him her smile was gone, though her lips twitched slightly. “I'm not heartless, Fort. I know we don't like each other, but I also know that working a ranch is hard, and if you don't get decent sleep, you'll be useless. I'm not going to be the cause of that. So”—she held up one finger—“I propose we share the bed. We have one thing going for us—the lack of physical attraction. So sharing shouldn't be a problem. We can build a barrier just as an extra precaution.”

She wasn't attracted to him? So she said. Back in the day he'd have argued that. Why else had she kept coming around?

“Are you really thinking it over?” she asked incredulously. Then changed to a teasing tone. “Is it because maybe you find me irresistible?”

“Hell, no,” he said. In one swift move, he vaulted over the couch and was on the bed in a flash, taking his pillow and blanket with him.

“Nope,” she said. “We have to do this feet to head. I'm less grossed out by your feet than your face.”

He sat up on his elbow and gave her a disbelieving look.

“Yes, I'm dead serious,” she said and swirled her finger in the air, telling him he needed to rotate.

“You're a lunatic. But then I already knew that. Runs in the family.” He flipped to the bottom of the bed and buried his face in the pillow.

“You say the town questions your commitment to them? Must see more of your father's flight tendencies in you than you counted on.” She slipped onto the bed. It barely dipped. He flipped over, an angry retort ready to spill from his lips when he saw her tiny feet. He would not let this small bit of chick get under his skin.

He flat-out refused. But that didn't stop him from counting the days until she left.