Chapter One
It would be a miracle if this wedding didn’t end with a fistfight.
Noah Turner watched Carl Whitfield waltz with his new bride, Camila, alone on the temporary dance floor built in the front yard of the Whitfields’ new ranch. Surrounded by friends and family, it was clear they saw no one but each other. They deserved their happiness as far as Noah was concerned, but judging by the sour expression on his uncle Jed’s face—and the looks and attitudes of the rest of the Turners and Coopers present—not everyone wished Carl and Camila well.
Carl had made the mistake of living for three years on Cooper land, renting a cabin from them at Thorn Hill, their extensive ranch. Camila had rented a cabin on Turner land at the Flying W for just as long. As far as Noah’s uncle was concerned, Carl could be a Cooper himself, which made his marriage to Camila, an honorary Turner in Jed’s mind, insupportable.
It would be funny if everyone wasn’t taking it so damn seriously. Noah was keeping an especially close eye on his brother, Liam, who was glaring across the dance floor at Lance Cooper. Those two were apt to throw down whenever they met up. Noah wished they’d get over whatever had caused all that animosity between them, but the feud had stood between the Turners and Coopers for over a hundred years, and it obviously wasn’t going to end tonight.
Which made it impossible for him to ask Olivia Cooper to dance.
He wanted to, though. Badly enough it took all his strength to stay where he was.
Olivia looked beautiful tonight in a short, light-blue off-the-shoulder dress. Her long legs were encased in cowboy boots. Her blonde hair done up in a twist. She looked sassy and sexy, and Noah couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
No surprise: he could never look away when Olivia was around.
Everything had conspired to make this night a wonderful celebration for the newlyweds. The air was soft and warm. The evening sky glowed with an early June sunset. Stars were beginning to light up overhead one by one. The murmur of the other guests and the sweet melody of the string quartet provided a backdrop for the swaying couple. Noah wished he could relax and enjoy the occasion, but happy endings belonged to people like Carl and Camila, not people like him. Carl was a millionaire, and every inch of his new ranch oozed prosperity.
The Flying W didn’t look half as good these days. Noah’s family had fallen on hard times, and no matter how hard he worked, he couldn’t seem to get them out from under their bills. He envied Carl the partner he’d gained in this wedding, too. Camila wasn’t wealthy, but she had a good head on her shoulders, worked hard and obviously loved her new husband. What would it be like to have someone to share your life with? Someone on your side the way Camila seemed committed to Carl?
His own parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, and that’s when the fortunes of his family had turned. His mother had decamped to Ohio. His father died a few years back. Now Noah, the oldest of his siblings, was left in charge.
He was making a mess of the job. How could he expect any woman to want to be with him if he couldn’t get it together?
His gaze slid to Olivia again. She was talking with her great-aunt Virginia on the other side of the dance floor, a stern old woman with upright bearing who carried an old black umbrella wherever she went. It was in her hand now. It was closed, and she was using it like a cane, leaning on it for support. She looked frustrated—or maybe thwarted was a better word. She didn’t approve of this wedding any more than Noah’s uncle Jed did.
Olivia was far more animated, talking rapidly, gesturing at the dancing couple. Trying to convince her aunt of something. Noah sighed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his good jeans. Much as he was attracted to Olivia, if he married someday, it couldn’t be to her.
The Coopers had been his family’s enemies since 1882, when Ernestine Harris jilted Olivia’s great, great, great, great-grandfather, Slade Cooper, and married Noah’s great, great, great, great-grandfather, Zeke Turner, instead. The feud between their families had been renewed when Virginia and Jed had a falling out in their early twenties. Then there was the trouble thirteen years ago…
Noah didn’t like to think about that. He still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, except Olivia’s father, Dale, had landed in jail, and her mother, Enid, had taken her and her siblings to Idaho for nearly a decade, leaving them with her sister when she ran off with a man and settled in New Mexico.
His own mother, Mary, had left home soon after Dale was arrested. Sometimes the disintegration of his and Olivia’s families seemed linked in his mind, but it was only coincidence that it happened at the same time. Olivia’s dad didn’t live long enough to serve out his term. Noah’s own father, William, died soon after. Even though the family rivalry hadn’t caused this set of problems, the old feud was still in effect. His great-uncle Jed constantly bickered with Olivia’s great-aunt Virginia at the Prairie Garden assisted living facility where they both lived. His brother, Liam, got into fisticuffs with Olivia’s brother Lance with depressing regularity.
Thank goodness her sister, Tory, had decamped for Seattle years ago, or who knew what kind of arguments she’d have with his sister Stella. As for his youngest sister, Maya, who was near to Olivia’s age, she and Olivia pretended each other didn’t exist.
They were like Capulets and Montagues, Crips and Bloods… or, more apt, Hatfields and McCoys.
Which made it damn awkward he couldn’t seem to get Olivia off his mind these days.
What did she think about him?
Did she ever think about him at all?
Noah settled his hat more firmly on his head. Probably not. Hell, he’d caught Olivia breaking and entering into his own house just a couple of weeks ago. She wouldn’t do that if she liked him, would she?
He suppressed a smile. Actually, when he’d caught her she hadn’t been in too much of a hurry to get away. In fact, she’d almost let him drive her to the Spring Fling Fair, except his family had arrived and all hell had broken loose.
Maybe she did like him a little bit.
But that didn’t make their situation any better.
She clearly wasn’t pleased with whatever her great-aunt was saying now. Noah edged sideways to get a better look. Virginia stood tapping the ground with her umbrella, giving Olivia what-for. As Noah watched, Olivia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Noah wondered what had riled up those two.
Not that it took much to rile a Cooper.
“What do you think that’s about?” Maya appeared at his elbow and offered him a plate that held several kinds of dessert. Noah waved it off, and she shrugged, scooping up a bite of cake with her fork. Almost a foot shorter than him, with light brown hair and a pert nose, she stood on tiptoe to try to see. It was obvious she’d been watching the Coopers, too. She might ignore Olivia in public, but privately she seemed awfully interested in what Olivia got up to.
“Who knows?” He didn’t want Maya to catch on that he was awfully interested, too.
“Life would be a whole lot more peaceful if they hadn’t come back to town.” She stabbed her fork into the cake again.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
Noah thought fast. “Thorn Hill is their home, just like the Flying W is ours. Must have been hard enough for them to stay away as long as they did.”
What would Maya say if she knew who’d kept the lights on at Thorn Hill the whole time the Coopers were away? It sure had been a surprise to him when Lucas Maynard, the family’s solicitor, took him aside after his father’s death to explain the job his father had passed on to him. Noah still didn’t understand why William was caught up in Cooper affairs.
This wasn’t the time for that conversation, though. His father had wished to keep the arrangement a secret, and it was all done now—the Coopers were back at Thorn Hill, running it themselves. He’d keep his mouth shut and spend the rest of his life wondering what had happened thirteen years ago to make partners of two men who’d spent their lives on opposite sides of a family feud.
“You’re always so fair,” Maya chided him. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter what we think about it. They’re here now.”
“Yes, they are.” Noah wasn’t sure whether to thank God or curse Him for that. Olivia had gotten under his skin good these past few years, and he couldn’t shake her off. She kept him up nights. Kept him prowling the Dancing Boot, running errands with the hope of seeing her in town, riding down to their western pastures with the hopes of catching a glimpse of her across Pittance Creek.
He was acting like a teenager. Hell, he was certainly as frustrated as one.
“They’re going to win the Founder’s Prize, too, with that school renovation project they’re spearheading,” Maya said. “Them or the Washingtons, with their reforestation project on the edge of town. Wish we’d thought of that. I know Uncle Jed thinks we can run off with the Ridley property because we donated the high school a hundred years ago, but he’s wrong. I think we need to make a plan.”
Noah thought Jed was wrong, too. “What kind of plan?” The Ridley property was a huge, abandoned ranch that abutted the Flying W—and Thorn Hill. It straddled Pittance Creek. Whoever won the Founder’s Prize would take possession of that ranch—and control the flow of water to both the downstream ranches and beyond.
“A good one.”
Across the room, Olivia rolled her eyes at her aunt again and shook her head. Noah could almost read her lips as she spoke: “I’ll take care of it.”
Take care of what?
Virginia said something sharp back and walked away. Olivia scanned the crowd, her mouth tilting into a private smile. Then she turned and headed around the house toward the driveway.
What was she up to?
“I’ll think about it,” Noah told Maya. “Gotta go.”
“Go where? Noah!”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t look back, either. He couldn’t be seen trailing Olivia, so he made a wide arc through the crowd around the dance floor and waited until he’d turned the corner of the Whitfields’ large house before he broke into a run. He caught the red glow of taillights as Olivia backed out of her parking space and drove away. He dashed across the parking lot, hopped in his Ram pickup, and quickly followed.
Once out on the country highway, he hung back, not wanting to spook her, but Olivia kept a steady pace and drove in a straight line toward her destination. She must have thought she’d gotten away clean, or—more likely—she simply hadn’t given a thought to being followed. She was probably going home, he told himself, and here he was acting like a stalker. But something about that smile made him think she might have another plan….
Noah straightened when they got to the turnoff. If she wanted to go to her family’s ranch, she needed to turn left. Instead she went straight.
Toward the Flying W.
Noah shook his head as he followed her slowly, still hanging back. Just as he’d suspected: she was going to try to complete the robbery he’d foiled about a month ago. He’d caught her creeping into his house in the middle of the day, crossing to the living room and lifting their grandmother clock off the fireplace mantel—the one Ernestine had kept over a hundred years ago when she married Zeke instead of Slade.
Did Olivia really think she could steal it tonight?
Not if he could help it.
Noah knew why Olivia thought the clock belonged to the Coopers, and rationally he had to admit there was a case for it, but nothing about the relationship between the Coopers and Turners was rational. It never had been.
Back in 1882, the scandal had split the town, with most people taking the Coopers’ side, until Slade diverted Pittance Creek and left the Flying W without its water for an entire summer. In the end he saw reason—at the barrel of a loaded gun wielded by Zeke, some said—and Pittance Creek ran true to its course again.
Things hadn’t gone easy between the Coopers and Turners since then. And the Turners had never relinquished that clock—figuring it was payment for their trouble that long, dry summer.
In 1951, when his uncle Jed was courting Virginia Cooper, rumor had it he might return the clock to the Coopers when they married, but they never got that far. He stood Virginia up on the day of the Founder’s Ball and went with Maybelle Wright instead. Virginia refused to listen when he came to apologize the next day. They never dated again. Neither of them ever married, either. Jed kept the clock, and it remained with the Turners to this day.
Noah suspected Virginia had just ordered Olivia to steal it. He couldn’t blame Olivia for wanting to please her aunt, but there was a line.
He waited several minutes before turning in after her, but first he dimmed his headlights so as not to give his presence away. The moon had risen, and it gave off plenty of light to steer by. Besides, he knew this terrain like the back of his hand.
Which meant he shouldn’t slip up and fall for Olivia Cooper.
Except he already had.
He parked several hundred yards from the house on a bend in the driveway where trees and brush blocked his truck from view, then ran noiselessly the rest of the way until he could see the front door.
Like most folks in these parts, his family didn’t lock the place when they left. This was a small town. Everyone knew each other.
Maybe they’d better start.
The door was partway open, probably the better to slip out of if Olivia surprised someone at home. Noah knew there wasn’t anyone to surprise, however. They were all at the Whitfields’ wedding. He slipped inside as quietly as he could, took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness inside the unlit hall and held his breath.
There. In the living room.
He heard a footstep. A scraping sound of wood sliding over wood.
Olivia was taking the clock right now.
He stepped lightly to the entrance of the living room and eased around the corner.
Olivia’s slim, shapely form was lit by the moonlight sliding through the wide windows at the back of the house, framing her in front of the large fireplace. Her arms upraised, in the act of lifting down the clock, her every curve was evident. He couldn’t help feeling connected to Olivia, even while she was stealing his clock. She was trying to please her aunt, the same way he was always trying to do what was best for his family. Olivia deserved far more than she’d gotten from life, and he wished he could be the one to make up for all the difficulties she’d known.
He remembered the girl she’d once been before the latest round of trouble had torn apart their families. Olivia was five years younger than him, so they hadn’t been in high school together. She was just a cute preteen he used to stumble over in the stacks of the Chance Creek public library now and then when he was doing research for some high school class. He knew she volunteered there, but what he remembered most was her library cart half-full of the books she was supposed to reshelve, and Olivia sitting cross-legged on the ground, so buried in a novel she didn’t look up when he passed. Noah had been raised to think of Coopers as thieves and ne’er-do-wells—his great-uncle’s term for them. Some ne’er-do-well, he used to tell himself with a grin whenever he spotted Olivia like that. She was just a little girl.
Now she was grown up, and she was… stunning.
He still remembered the first time he’d bumped into her when she’d come back to town three years ago. He’d stopped at the hardware store to pick up a few things. Outside, a kid had a box full of puppies he was trying to give away to good homes. Noah had spotted an unfamiliar blonde crouching down by the box, picking up and cuddling first one and then another of the puppies, until she’d given each of them an equal amount of love. When she straightened and turned around, she’d been familiar, but he couldn’t place her face at first.
“You want to take a picture, cowboy?” she’d drawled at him.
Then he’d remembered.
“Olivia? Is that you?” he’d asked, too flummoxed to pretend he hadn’t been ogling her.
“It’s me.” She’d grinned at him, as if she wasn’t a Cooper and he wasn’t a Turner. As if they were merely a man and a woman—and were allowed to flirt.
He wasn’t allowed to flirt with Olivia Cooper, but he’d wanted to ever since. He wanted to pull her close. Touch those curves. Wanted to explore her body with his hands—his mouth—
He dragged his thoughts back to the present. Olivia’s family was about to steal the Founder’s Prize away from his. If the Coopers were allowed to take possession of the Ridley property, they’d control the creek. Which meant just like their forebears, they could divert the water and leave the Flying W dry.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Couldn’t let a Cooper steal their clock, either. Even a really cute Cooper.
Noah stepped into the living room. “Drop it!”
Olivia shrieked and nearly did so, just stopping the clock’s fall with a shove back onto the mantel. She whirled to face him. “Noah—what are you doing here?”
“It’s my house. What are you doing here?” He blocked the door so she couldn’t escape.
“Retrieving my clock.” Olivia squared her shoulders and turned back to gather it up again. “I’ll be out of your way in a jiffy.”
“Like hell.” Noah crossed the room and grabbed it.
Olivia held on. “Give it to me. Noah, I’m warning you—don’t try to stop me.”
“Warning me? What are you going to do?” He gripped the clock tighter and lifted it up, nearly pulling her off her feet.
Olivia tried to wrench it back out of his arms. “I swear to God, Noah. Don’t push me!”
“I’m not pushing you.” Quite the opposite; he was dragging her across the living room now, her high heels unable to get any leverage against the slippery hardwood floor.
She dug those heels in, though, yanked back, slipped, lost her grip on the clock—and her balance—and went down hard with another shriek. Something ripped as she fell.
Noah nearly dropped the damn clock. “You okay?” He set it on the mantel and reached to help Olivia up. That rip—it had to be fabric, right? Not a tendon tearing.
“I’m fine. Go away.” Olivia scrambled to her knees but refused to meet his eyes.
“Let me help.” He tried to take her hand, but she dodged him and managed to get to her feet on her own. She clutched the hem of her dress in one hand. Where a small slit used to expose an inch or two of her right thigh, now a much bigger tear exposed far more.
Noah’s gaze traced the path of that slit up her leg. Her skirt was barely decent now.
In a minute he wasn’t going to be decent, either.
He wrenched his gaze to her face, realized she’d seen him staring and shifted his stance. “We should get back to the wedding.”
“Like this?” Olivia pinched her lips together. “I don’t think so. This night is a bust.”
Not entirely, Noah thought. At least he’d gotten a few minutes alone with her. This close he could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Her full mouth enticed him, and her gray eyes made him want to keep her here all night. Ask her a million questions.
Kiss her.
Hell, he could kiss her now. Despite himself, he leaned in.
Olivia stiffened, but she didn’t move away. She seemed mesmerized by his approach. Waiting.
Watching him.
Noah moved closer still. They were alone. They’d witnessed a wedding. No one could blame them for letting the moment take over.
“Noah.” Olivia’s whisper felt somewhere between a warning and a plea.
He decided it was a plea. He closed the distance between them and brushed his mouth over hers.
So sweet.
So—
Noah jumped when something vibrated against his leg.
Olivia jumped, too, reached for the tiny blue purse hanging from an equally tiny strap over her shoulder and pulled out a phone. She sighed. “Hold that thought.” Turning her back, she answered the call. “Virginia? What’s wrong?”
Noah tried to get himself under control. He’d kissed a Cooper. And she’d let him. She’d told him to hold that thought when they were interrupted.
Did she want to pick up where they left off when she finished her call?
Noah ran a hand through his short hair. What the hell was he doing? He wasn’t supposed to kiss Olivia. Couldn’t get involved with an enemy.
Was it Olivia’s fault she’d been born into the wrong family, though? She wasn’t the one who—
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he slapped a hand over it, startled all over again. He pulled it out reluctantly. It was his uncle Jed calling.
“Jed, what’s up?”
“Get your ass over here, and get me out of this hellhole!” Jed shouted down the line.
“Hellhole? You still at the wedding?”
“Liam dropped me here at the Prairie Garden ten minutes ago. Took off back to the wedding like his ass was on fire.”
“Probably didn’t want to miss the fun.”
“Fun? Watching Camila betray us and marry that wannabe Cooper? More like getting stretched on the rack, if you ask me.”
“So what’s wrong now?” His uncle had moved to the assisted living facility several years back, and for the most part he liked it, especially since women outnumbered the men there. He hadn’t been doted on like that for years. He was able to call the shots, with a bevy of ladies oohing and aahing over his prowess. The only thing he disliked about the Prairie Garden was Virginia’s presence.
“I’ve been kicked out! Can you believe it? Kicked out when I pay damn good money to be here! I’ve got twenty-four hours to vacate my room.”
“That can’t be right.” Even if he’d misbehaved, wasn’t there a whole mediation process to go through?
“Kicked out!” Jed repeated. Noah heard a crash on the other end of the phone. Someone screeched. “Get out of my room, you harpy!” Jed shouted back.
“Virginia? Virginia, what’s going on?” Olivia cried behind Noah. “Who’s that shouting at you?”
Another crash. Jed hooted. “Nice try! You couldn’t hit the side of a barn!”
“Virginia, did you drop something?” Olivia cried, just as Noah hollered, “Jed, who’s throwing things at you?”
Olivia turned to face him, and Noah replayed in his mind what they’d both just said.
“Well, shit,” Noah told her. “Your great-aunt is beating up my great-uncle!”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around!”
Noah wasn’t sure about that at all. Virginia might be eighty-four, but she was a tough customer. “Jed’s been thrown out. He’s got to leave tomorrow.”
“I’ve got to leave tonight,” Jed hollered into his ear. “You come get me right now. I’m not spending another second in this swamp!”
By the sounds of it, Virginia was giving Olivia an earful, too. “She’s been kicked out as well,” Olivia confirmed. “Damn it, Noah—what did your uncle do to make this happen?”
“How do you know Jed started it? Maybe it was your aunt!”
“Who are you talking to?” Jed demanded.
Noah hung up on him. “Leave the clock where it is, and go get in your truck,” he told Olivia. “I’m going to lock up, and then I’ll follow you. We’d better sort this out.”
“Fine!” Olivia blew out a frustrated breath. “I’ll pick up my clock another day.” She followed him to the front door and waited on the stoop for him to lock it behind him.
Noah realized he’d just lost his moment alone with Olivia, which was far more important than who should own the damn clock. Who knew when he’d get another chance to be with her.
What the hell, he thought. Make hay while the sun shines. Or the moon, as it happened. He bent down, pulled Olivia in tight and kissed her.
Noah Turner had just kissed her—twice.
Olivia struggled to keep her eyes on the road as she drove to the Prairie Garden, all too aware that the handsome cowboy was following close behind her. Noah had been on her radar since she’d moved back to town. They’d had a couple of run-ins, and she enjoyed flirting with him. The fact that he was a Turner added a little zing to the back and forth. Still, she’d never thought things would go this far.
Never thought a man like Noah would even notice a woman like her.
Though, if pressed, she had to admit she was pretty sure she was his type. Noah was a practical guy, but when she got near him, he got a certain look in his eye. A look that told her he might abandon his careful way of thinking things through if it meant he got to be with her.
Like tonight.
She was pretty sure he’d made a conscious decision to throw caution to the wind when he kissed her, but Noah wasn’t one to let his emotions rule the day. That innate caution would return, and that would be the end of that.
Disappointment coursed through her at the thought, but that was the kind of day it had been, she reasoned. Virginia had been in high form since this morning, furious at Carl for betraying the Coopers and marrying Camila. She’d insisted Olivia steal the clock today, and Olivia had thought she had a good chance of managing it during the wedding reception. She’d meant to place it on the mantel at Thorn Hill and wait for everyone to come home and see it.
Thwarted again.
But Noah had kissed her.
God, he looked good today. His black jeans snug in all the right places. Dress shirt showcasing his strong body. Casual jacket making his shoulders look a mile wide. What would it be like to be with a man like that? Someone so secure with his standing? Someone who always did the right thing? Noah Turner was an upstanding citizen, respected in Chance Creek. A man who was going places.
If they were together, could she turn around the mess she always made of things? Break the pattern of bad luck that always kept her family down?
She glanced in the rearview mirror. Noah’s headlights bumped and flashed behind her as they traveled the old country highway.
She probably wouldn’t get the chance to find out.
Not only was Noah an upright, solid citizen, but he was a parole officer, too. She’d never broken the law herself—but her father’s time in prison tainted everyone in her family. Noah might have slipped up and stolen a kiss or two just now, but tomorrow he’d pretend it had never happened, and he’d be one more person to avoid when she went to town.
“Ready for this?” Noah asked when she met him at the front door of the Prairie Garden some minutes later.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” She hardly allowed herself to look at him. She had to stay strong. He’s your enemy, she told herself. Pull yourself together.
Inside, the receptionist looked about as unenthusiastic as Olivia felt.
“You come to get your crazy relatives?” she asked.
“You’re not supposed to talk about people that way,” Noah told her.
“If they really had psychological problems, I wouldn’t,” the receptionist retorted. “Your uncle and your aunt, however, are completely sane, which means they don’t have any business causing this kind of trouble. They’ve each had more than their share of warnings already. Get them out of here.”
“Warnings?” Olivia asked, surprised.
“First I’m hearing of it,” Noah said.
The receptionist shrugged. “You taking them or what?”
“That’s why we’re here.” Noah was clearly irritated, but Olivia couldn’t blame the woman for her bad attitude. Virginia was always cantankerous. She’d probably created her share of difficulties here.
They paced down the corridors, then split up, Olivia turning right, Noah going left.
“Good luck,” Noah said.
“Sure. You, too.” She waited for him to say something about that kiss. When he didn’t, she gave up and went to find her aunt, knocking twice on her door and calling out, “Virginia? You in there?”
“I’m here. For now.” Virginia was sitting on her throne, as Olivia liked to call the stiff, decorative chair her aunt had always favored. She liked it because sitting upright helped her back, but she looked for all the world like a diminutive queen sitting in state on the formal piece of furniture.
“What’s all this trouble you’re in?”
“It’s not my fault that man’s so touchy. Just told him he’d missed a spot or two when he was shaving today. You’d think I’d pointed out how ugly he is.”
“Virginia.” Olivia assumed she was talking about Jed Turner. Who else? Jed was the only person Virginia mentioned on a regular basis even though Olivia knew Virginia spoke to everyone else at the Prairie Garden. Interrogated them, more like it. Virginia liked to keep her finger on the pulse, and she terrorized all the other residents into coughing up their secrets.
“Called me an old bag,” Virginia complained. “Maybe I lost my temper after that.”
“I just bet you did.”
“Don’t get snippy with me, young lady. You aren’t any saint yourself, are you? All our family’s troubles start with you. Look at you, dressed like a harlot. You going out to make some money after taking me home?”
Olivia counted to ten. She didn’t need this tonight. “Virginia, pack a bag. I’m taking you to Thorn Hill for now. We’ll find you a new place tomorrow.”
“Oh no, you won’t. From now on I’ll stay at Thorn Hill, where I belong. And I’m not leaving here without my things. All of them. This place is chockablock with thieves.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“I don’t care what you think. Start packing. All of it.” Virginia waved a hand.
Olivia sighed. “We would need boxes—”
“I’ve got boxes.” The receptionist appeared as if by magic and handed over a stack. “I’ve got tape and a marker, too. You can label them. Pack her belongings. We can send the furniture later, if necessary.”
“You’re not keeping a stick of it!” Virginia called after her as the receptionist slipped away again.
It was going to be a long night, Olivia thought, but there was nothing for it but to get to work. Once Virginia’s mind was made up, there was little chance of changing it. “Pack your clothing in your suitcases,” she told her aunt. “I’ll get busy on the knickknacks.”
An hour later they’d barely made headway, but a stack of boxes was making it difficult to move around the small apartment. Olivia decided to haul them to her truck. It was getting late. The wedding should be winding down. When she was outside she’d call her brothers and get them to come and help.
Not for the first time, she envied Tory, who’d left all this behind and never looked back. Maybe she had the right idea…
Olivia picked up the box nearest the door and began the trek to the facility’s front door.
“Damn it, Jed, I’m doing the best I can,” she heard Noah yell when she was halfway there. He appeared around a corner hauling a large box. Maybe the receptionist had supplied him with a stack, too.
“Well, your best is pretty pathetic, isn’t it? What have you got to show for yourself? A man your age. No wife. No girlfriend, even. When are you going to grow up and settle down?”
Noah kept walking even as Jed pursued him, easily putting distance between himself and his uncle. He didn’t point out Jed had never married, either. When he got close to Olivia, he made a face she found all too easy to interpret. He was putting up with Jed, just like she was putting up with Virginia, because they were family and that’s what one did.
“That looks too heavy for you,” Noah murmured to her.
“I’ve got it,” she assured him. They both turned for the front door. The receptionist scuttled out from behind her desk and rushed to open it for them.
“That’s what I like to see,” she said. “Keep it going.”
“Jesus,” Noah muttered under his breath.
Olivia bit back a laugh. Outside, after the door swung closed behind them, they stopped, having left their respective relatives far enough behind to get a moment to themselves.
“Great night, huh?” Noah said, shifting the box in his arms.
“Pretty sweet,” she agreed sarcastically.
“Well, it was for a minute there. Olivia—”
Another truck pulled into the parking lot, followed by a second and then a third. Olivia watched helplessly as her brothers parked and made their way toward her, followed by the rest of Noah’s family. What would Noah have said if they hadn’t been interrupted? Was he actually interested in her?
Her oldest brother, Steel, strode over and grabbed the box from her arms. “Heard there was trouble with Virginia.”
“You got that right.” She followed him to his vehicle without another glance at Noah, figuring he’d understand and approve. No sense stirring up another fight between their clans; things were bad enough already. She wished they’d been able to finish their conversation, though. “She’s moving home. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Steel whistled. “Perfect.”
A commotion back at the door had them both swinging around. Steel cursed and dropped the box in the bed of his truck, then loped toward the building, where Jed and Virginia had exited and seemed to be coming to blows. Olivia stood back as Steel and Liam Turner managed to separate the octogenarians. Steel hustled Virginia to Olivia’s truck.
“Get her out of here,” he said.
“What about my things?” Virginia demanded.
“We’ll get them home, don’t you worry.” He tucked her into the truck and shut the door. “Seriously, Olivia. Take her straight home, and don’t let her cause any more problems tonight. Can you do that?”
Stung at his tone, she said, “Yeah, I can do that.”
Steel sighed. “Hell. Didn’t mean to take anything out on you. This is all we need, though. We were just making headway.”
Olivia knew what he meant. As soon as the Founder’s Prize had been announced at the Chance Creek Spring Fling Fair, Virginia had pounced and strong-armed Carl Whitfield into helping her fund a renovation and technological upgrade to Chance Creek High. The renovation was going to be fantastic. The old run-down building would be a high-tech palace by the time it was done and would feature a robotics program open to all its students to participate in. Carl had gotten donations from all kinds of major tech companies, and she was pretty sure he’d thrown in some of his own money to boot.
The Coopers’ fortunes had taken a turn in the town. Suddenly they weren’t just troublemakers. They were troublemakers who made a difference. Troublemakers who might just win that prize—and the Ridley property. If Virginia kept this up, though, soon enough they’d go back to just being trouble.
“Did you at least get my clock tonight?” Virginia demanded when Olivia got behind the wheel. “I told you it was the perfect time when everyone else was at the reception.”
“Noah followed me. Caught me in the act,” Olivia said matter-of-factly and braced herself for Virginia’s response.
“Huh. You probably blurted out all our secrets the minute he walked through the door. Never could hold your tongue.”
Count to ten. Count to ten, Olivia told herself. Every time she saw Virginia, her aunt managed to slip in a dig or two about the past. Repetition didn’t take away the sting, though. Nor the feeling her aunt was right.
“Your father would be alive, and your mother would still live in Chance Creek if—”
“Virginia!” Olivia exploded. Caught herself. “Virginia,” she started again in a calmer tone. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t push me tonight. I’m tired. I’ve had a long day. I’m liable to pull over and make you walk.”
“Ingrate.” Virginia crossed her arms and stared out the window, mercifully holding her tongue—for a minute. “What the hell happened to your dress?”
The next day Noah entered the house after his early chores to find Jed sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.
“Morning,” Noah said, eager to get past him and on with his business. He needed to leave for town in a minute.
“Morning, yourself. You seen this nonsense?” Jed ruffled the paper and began to read aloud. “‘Coopers to Bring Chance Creek High into the Twenty-First Century.’ What a load of baloney.”
“Can’t blame the school board for voting to accept their proposal. They’re going to update all the wiring and bring in high-tech equipment. Teach the kids computer programming and robotics. Things that’ll be useful to them.”
“Useful? Who needs computers? And those robots are just waiting to kill us. You know it’s true.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But if they’re coming after us, maybe it would be smart to train a passel of kids to stop them, don’t you think?”
Jed glared at him. “It’ll be funny right up to the minute one of those machines breaks you in half.”
“Whatever, Uncle Jed. I’ve got to get to work.” Noah crossed to the sink, poured himself a glass of water and took a long drink. Ranching was a dusty business, and there hadn’t been rain in weeks.
Jed snorted. “That’s what you’re calling your day job? Lotta work it takes to jaw for half an hour now and then with your criminal friends.”
“I’m not jawing. I’m supervising parolees. It’s an important job.” Not to mention somebody had to keep the Flying W afloat. “I help make sure they get a chance to reintegrate with society. Or do you think we should just kick them to the curb when they’ve served their time?”
Ironic, Noah thought, that he was rebuilding the Turners’ finances by helping people bounce back from their mistakes. His father’s decision to help the Coopers bounce back from the ones they’d made had helped drain their coffers in the first place.
Not that any of the Coopers showed a whit of gratitude for that.
Noah forced himself to take a deep breath. He was being unfair. As far as he knew, none of the Coopers were aware of what he’d done, and paying Thorn Hill’s bills for the few months it stood unoccupied during the years they were away really wasn’t the crux of the Flying W’s money problems. He’d made a few mistakes the first years he’d taken over the operation. He was trying to set that right.
“No one’s helping me with my life,” Jed declared.
“Are you serious?” Noah waited, but Jed didn’t qualify his statement, and Noah wondered why he’d bothered spending half the night moving Jed’s things home. He set the glass on the counter and readied to go.
“Hold up there,” Jed said. “I’ve got a job for you.”
“You just said—” Noah gave up. “What job?”
“If we let those Coopers get away with their plan, they’re going to win the Founder’s Prize, which means they’re going to leave us high and dry.”
“You said we’d win it just because we’re Turners. Because we built the high school in the first place, and because you served on the council all those years.”
“We should win the prize for what we’ve done. I’m not on the council anymore, though, and people these days have short memories. You need to think of something that outshines what the Coopers have done. Something to fix or build or… something.”
“Like what?”
“You figure that out. I don’t get around as fast as I used to. You’ll have to be my eyes and ears on the ground. Go into town, ask around. What do people need that they don’t have? That’s what we’ll build.”
“We don’t have a lot of extra cash—”
“Stop making excuses and get it done. Meanwhile, I’ll figure out our strategy for blocking the Coopers. A project as big as theirs can have all kinds of things happen.”
Noah checked the time on his phone. He was late and didn’t have time to argue, even though he didn’t like his great-uncle’s train of thought. “I’ll get back to you on that,” he promised Jed. “But only if you leave that school alone. If I figure out you’ve been interfering, there’ll be consequences.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.” Jed scowled. “Think fast. Those Coopers already have a big head start.”
Maybe Chance Creek needed a bigger jail, Noah thought as he headed for his truck. One with an extension on the back of it—housing for ornery relatives.
Fifteen minutes later he slid into one of the rear booths at Linda’s Diner, where he and Brandon Sykes could have a quiet chat. He liked to meet his clients in public rather than in his shared office at the sheriff’s department. It was less intimidating. Parolees were more likely to open up when you treated them like human beings.
Noah had only worked this job for a couple of years, and he was aware he had a lot to learn. Men—and women—leaving the system entered civilian life like farmed fish thrown into the ocean. They were often caught off guard by unexpected currents. Easy prey for the same predators who’d influenced their decisions before they were incarcerated. Jumpy. A little lost.
He’d learned he had to work fast to establish a connection with his clients before their other, less helpful friends and acquaintances established one first. He was amazed how often first-time offenders ended up back in prison within months—even weeks—of being released.
Brandon arrived on time, Noah was happy to note. He had high hopes for the twenty-five-year-old man who’d gone to jail for tampering with an ATM machine. Brandon had gotten drunk at a family barbecue one weekend and let an older cousin with a long history of bank robbery and other offenses convince him to help out with the job. Thankfully, Brandon broke off his relationship with his cousin when he went to jail. If he kept away from him, Noah thought the young man had a good chance of making something of himself. He was smart and seemed truly sorry for what he’d done—not like some habitual offenders who gloried in the lifestyle.
“Coffee?” Noah asked.
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Hi, Noah.” A waitress hustled up to their table.
“Hi, Christie. How’s it going?”
“Same as ever,” she answered with a smile. A cheerful brunette with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, she held up her notepad. “What can I get you?”
Noah placed their order, and she went off to fetch it. When he turned back, he noticed Brandon watching the waitress walk away.
“Any luck with your job hunt?” Noah prompted him.
Brandon shook his head ruefully. “I’ve applied to everything. No one ever calls me back. Why would they? They all know what I did.”
“You’ll find something. It takes patience.” Noah nudged the salt shaker until it lined up with the pepper shaker in the middle of the table. He picked up a packet of sugar substitute and added it to the line. He knew Brandon was going to have a rough time finding someone to hire him, but this was part of the process: he had to experience the search and the eventual success. Sooner or later some rancher would need an extra hand, and there would be Brandon, ready to help.
“Waiting around is driving me nuts. I need money. My folks don’t want me back home. I’m twenty-five, for God’s sake.”
“Lots of people live with their folks a lot longer than that. I did.” He wished his folks were still around to share the ranch now.
“Yeah, well, we’re not getting along.”
“Tell me about that.”
They paused while Christie delivered their coffee. “Anything else?” she asked.
“No, thanks,” Noah told her. He turned back to Brandon. “Well? What are you and your folks arguing about?”
“My mom’s always on me. Clean your room. Do your laundry. It’s like I’m a kid again.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Brandon scraped a hand over his face. “I don’t know—because I’m acting like one?”
“Are you?” Noah took a sip of coffee and noticed Christie hovering nearby. “We’re good,” he told her. She nodded and left. “Friend of yours?”
Brandon turned to see who he meant. Frowned. “Christie? I guess I know her from high school. She was a couple of years behind me. She’s grown up a bunch, though.” He shrugged.
Noah made a note to keep an eye on the situation. Christie wouldn’t be the first bored small-town girl to take on a project like Brandon to make life more interesting.
“So how can you act more like a grown-up?” he asked Brandon.
The other man sighed heavily. “Get a job and get my own place,” he growled. “Which I’m trying to do, but it’s not working.”
“How about seeing your parents as allies rather than as wardens, huh? Think about it.” Noah set his coffee cup down in line with the shakers. Added a fork to the lineup. “They’re your bridge to the community. Your parents are respected. They have jobs. They meet other people with jobs. People who might need new employees. You act like a kid at home, give them a hard time, throw your dirty clothes on the floor, leave your bed unmade… why would your folks recommend you to one of their friends?”
Brandon sighed again. “So I suck up to my parents.”
“You suck up to everybody,” Noah told him. “You never know where that next job is coming from. Every person in this restaurant, everyone on the street, everyone in the grocery store or at the movies—they’re all links in a chain to your next paycheck. Does that make sense?”
After a moment Brandon nodded. “Yeah, it actually does when you think about it that way. I don’t know why I’m being an ass to the folks,” he added.
“Are you going to those sessions I recommended?” There were casual group-therapy sessions for newly released offenders. He hoped Brandon would take advantage of them.
“Not yet,” Brandon admitted.
“Go to one,” Noah pressed him. “Look, there are all these pieces that have been laid out to help you. Pick them up and put them together to make yourself a new life. You owe it to yourself to try.”
“All right.”
“Action steps?” Noah prodded him. “I’ll see you in a week. What are we going to talk about?”
Brandon held up a finger. “I’m going to keep applying for every job I see.” He held up another. “Be nice to the folks.” Another finger. “Go to a stupid meeting.”
“What about exercise? You running?”
“You’re telling me to run?” For the first time Brandon cracked a smile. “I think that violates the terms of my parole, Noah.”
“Yeah, yeah, smart-ass. You know what I mean. Blow off some steam in a healthy way. You said you used to run back in high school. Get back to it. Set goals. Get healthy. Deal with the anger that builds up. You hear me?”
“Yeah, all right.”
“I like to jog,” Christie said, passing by again.
“Oh yeah?” Brandon sat back in his seat. “You never joined the track team in school.”
“Didn’t have time. Too busy working. With Dad not around…” She trailed off, but she didn’t need to explain. Noah knew Christie and her sister, Monica, had helped pay the bills when their dad took off. That was the thing about small towns, Noah thought. Everyone really did know everything. Or at least thought they did.
“I think we’ll take the bill, Christie,” he said, trying to derail what was happening. Knowing already he was too late. He’d have to have a private word with Christie and give her some advice. Brandon could turn a corner and spend the rest of his life on the straight and narrow path. Or he could take up where he’d left off and destroy her life along with his own if those two started dating.
“All right, I’m out of here,” Brandon said when they’d settled the bill. “Next week?”
“That’s right. Good luck,” Noah told him and watched him leave, not missing the smile Christie sent Brandon’s way when he passed her.
Hell. More trouble.
Christie veered off to greet a new set of customers, and Noah lifted his coffee cup to drain it. When he set it down again, Liam was taking a seat across from him.
“What’s up?” Liam asked.
“Just met with Brandon Sykes. What’s up with you?”
Liam took a menu from Christie when she came back but didn’t open it. “Coffee. Black. And a Danish. Something with strawberries in it.”
“Got it. Be back in a minute,” she told him and took the menu again.
“Killing time.” He chuckled. “Getting away from Uncle Jed, to tell the truth.”
“Yeah, he’s a handful.”
“What are we going to do about him?”
“What can we do?” Noah countered. He adjusted the fork to make his line straighter.
“If he stays, he’s going to try to run the place. He might not be able to ride anymore, but he can sure talk.”
“Let’s take it one day at a time for now,” Noah suggested. The truth was, he didn’t have any idea what to do either. Liam was right; Jed would soon grow bored on the ranch without the company he’d enjoyed in town. He didn’t know how to fix that.
“Hey, there’s Carl. Shouldn’t he be on his honeymoon?”
“I don’t think they went yet, actually,” Noah said. “Something about needing more time to plan a big trip. He and Camila spent a few weeks down in Mexico last month.”
“Yeah, heard about that. Who’s he with?”
Noah didn’t recognize the man sitting across from Carl, but he could take a guess. “That’s got to be the architect who’s working on the school. Look, he’s got plans. Let’s go check it out.”
“What about my Danish?”
Noah wasn’t worried about the Danish. Christie would track them down. He wanted to see what Carl was up to—and how hard it would be for his family to top it.
When he reached Carl’s booth, he didn’t wait for an invitation. He dropped into the seat beside the stranger. “Morning, Carl. How’s married life treating you?”
“It’s great so far. We’ve got big plans for the ranch.”
“Got a name for it yet?”
“We’re keeping the one it has. Laurel Heights. Suits us fine.”
“What’cha got here?” Liam put in, sitting next to Carl when Carl slid over on his seat and tapping the large pieces of paper spread over the table.
“Plans for the Chance Creek High upgrade.”
“Heard it’s going to be pretty high-tech,” Noah said.
“It is. We’ve been working with the teachers to figure out how best to support them during the upgrade and transition. I’m going to bring in a half-dozen experts later in the summer for intensive training programs for them, too. Next fall those kids are in a for a big surprise.”
“Sounds great.” It bothered Noah he couldn’t simply feel happy for the town that it was happening. But there was the Ridley property to think about. “Feels like Chance Creek itself is getting an upgrade.” He made a show of looking around. “Wonder what else is in store for this town?”
“There’s a lot to do,” the architect put in. “Name’s Henry Woodruff. From Billings.” He shook hands with Noah and Liam. “Little towns like this all over the United States are getting rough around the edges.”
“Maybe one thing will lead to another,” Carl said. “But I like the old buildings in town. I hope people don’t mess with those classic facades too much.”
“Some of them are great. Others… could use an update,” Henry said. “And some need downright repairs. The old grocery store for one. And that post office…” He shrugged sadly. “Beautiful building in its day. But the mortar between its stones is crumbling.”
Henry was right, Noah thought. The grocery store was kind of a mess. It was crammed into an old building that once had been a general store and retained the atmosphere of an old-timey trading post. But it had been added to haphazardly, and its rugged exterior had slipped from charming to shoddy. It could use a face-lift.
Maybe that should be their project.
“Can’t fix everything at once,” Carl was saying when he tuned into the conversation again.
“No, that’s right.” Noah stiffened when he saw Olivia and Lance Cooper walk in. He knew they must be here to meet with Carl and the architect, and knew, too, he needed to get Liam out of here before his brother started something with Lance. “Hey, we’d better go see what Jed’s getting up to,” he told Liam and stood up. “Thanks for showing us your plans, Carl.” He grabbed Liam’s arm and pulled his brother along with him.
“What’s the rush? I haven’t gotten my Danish!” Liam complained but narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of the Coopers.
“Keep moving,” Noah told him evenly. He signaled to Christie as they went. “Can we get that pastry to go?” he asked her. “Meet you on the street,” he said to Liam. Liam took the hint and went outside. Noah breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone, although he regretted missing the chance to speak with Olivia. When they passed, he met her gaze and nodded slightly. She nodded back, a tiny movement but one that sent his heart beating harder.
Noah found himself smiling as he paid the bill. Flirting with Olivia wasn’t smart, but it sure was fun.
At least something was going right, Olivia thought when the meeting with Carl and Henry was over. She might not have gotten a chance to chat with Noah, who had been leaving as she had arrived, but she had to hand it to Carl—he’d come through on his promise to help her family try to win the Founder’s Prize. Not for the first time, she wished the Ridley property had simply come up for sale and her family had the money to buy it fair and square. The Founder’s Prize wasn’t going to be awarded until October. It was early June. Far too much time for something to go wrong.
Outside Linda’s Diner, she said goodbye to the others and walked toward the grocery store to do her shopping. She stopped when someone called her name.
“Olivia!” Caroline Selwich hurried to catch up with her. “Hey, what’s the rush?’
“No rush, just running errands. Good to see you.”
“You, too. How’s your aunt? I heard there was quite a fuss at the Prairie Garden.”
“You’ve got that right.” Olivia filled her in as they walked together. Caroline knew all about Virginia. She was one of the first friends Olivia had made when she returned to Chance Creek. Caroline had grown up in Billings and moved here to take a position in the dentist’s office in town. She was friendly, kind and open-minded, and her presence in Chance Creek had done much to make life here bearable for Olivia. She wished they got to spend more time together, but Caroline’s boyfriend, Devon, demanded all her attention outside work hours. He was a loner. The kind of guy who liked a woman around and didn’t want to share her attention with friends. Olivia had never been to Caroline’s house and had only met Devon once or twice in town. She privately wondered what Caroline saw in the man, but it took all kinds, as her mother said.
“Are you free next Sunday for lunch?” Caroline asked when they reached the grocery store.
“Absolutely!” Olivia had learned to jump on any invitation Caroline made. She never knew when they’d get a chance to hang out, with Devon keeping her on such a short leash. “The usual place?”
“DelMonacos at noon,” Caroline said happily. “See you there.”
“See you.”
Steel appeared at her side almost as soon as Caroline left.
“What are you doing here?” Olivia asked him.
“Snacks for the road,” he said, holding up a bag of chips. “Meeting go good?”
“It went fine. You should have been there.”
“I’m heading out of town.”
Steel was always heading out of town these days, and he never answered her questions when she asked where he was going. “I talked to Virginia this morning,” he went on. He followed her as she filled a basket with the supplies she needed. He was tall, with short, iron-dark hair. She knew other people found him intimidating, and he’d been a pain in the ass as a kid, but now he seemed to have elected himself her personal protector.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Oh yeah? What about?” she asked lightly.
“She wants us to throw a party.”
“A party?” Olivia stopped short. “What kind of a party?”
“A big event. Her words, not mine. To shore up support for the school upgrade. Not everyone at the high school was on board with the renovations. Some people still aren’t. They think we’re rushing things. They might have a point.”
Olivia blinked at him. “Wait, you don’t think the school needs the upgrade?”
He shook his head. “It needs the upgrade: the issue is with the time frame. If we pushed it to next summer, everyone would have a lot more time to prepare for it. To be honest, the only logical reason to rush it like this—”
“Is to have it finished before the Founder’s Prize gets awarded,” Olivia finished for him.
“Right. Luckily Martin Fulsom bought the company that’s doing the renovation. That man loves to be in front of a camera. We’re going to throw him a party and give him all the attention he can handle.”
“How would that help?”
“When Fulsom gets in front of a camera, the nation watches,” Steel said. “It won’t take much prodding to get him to spout off about how great this project is going to be—and how fast he’s going to get it done.”
“And then everyone will be on board with the time frame.” Olivia nodded slowly. “Because the whole country will be watching to see how it turns out.”
“Exactly. So you’ll take care of the party?”
“Me?” Heck, she wouldn’t know where to start. Party wasn’t even the right word for what Virginia had in mind. Gala was more like it. None of the Coopers had any experience with galas.
Least of all her.
“Better get Carl to do that.”
“Carl’s busy.”
“What about Lance?”
“He’ll help, but he’s not a detail man. This… event… is going to take a lot of detail work.”
“What about you?”
“Me? Come on.”
She understood what he meant. Most of Chance Creek gave Steel a wide berth.
“So it’s me or no one, huh?” Was she supposed to feel gratified?
They paused at Steel’s truck. “That’s right, and I need you to take this seriously. Don’t flake out on me, okay?
“I’m not a flake—”
She just trusted the wrong people sometimes.
“I’ll take it seriously,” she told Steel. “I still think we’re in over our heads.”
“Then we’d better swim fast.”