Josie Shepherd pulled up in front of the main barn at the Shepherd’s Creek Equestrian Complex. The only reason she’d relented on her promise to never return to Hidden Valley, the small town nestled in the Colorado mountains where she’d grown up, was because her cousin Abigail had begged her. Even then, she’d skipped the memorial service and was only here for the will reading she’d been told she had to attend.
She got out of the car and adjusted her skirt. For a moment, she regretted her decision to wear a dress and heels, but what was done was done. Another outfit might have been more practical, but she wanted no trace of the old Josie here. It was bad enough having to face the memories. She was a new woman now, and she lived life her way, wore the clothes she wanted to wear and wasn’t going to let this place change that, even for a moment.
She’d no sooner started for the barn when a familiar voice greeted her.
“Junior. I mean, Josie.”
Her appearance hadn’t been the only thing Josie had changed upon leaving. Her father had always wanted a son, and when it was clear a daughter was all he was going to get, he’d named her after himself. She’d grown up as Junior, and it wasn’t until she left this place that she’d been able to carve out her own identity.
Abigail. Josie smiled at her cousin, grateful to begin the visit with a friendly face. Most of the people here, she didn’t want to see or talk to.
Abigail strode toward her and gave her a big hug. It felt awkward at first, but then Josie leaned into the embrace. Abigail was the only one Josie still talked to, and not very often. Abigail had been like a big sister/surrogate mother to her growing up, since Josie’s own mom had passed away in childbirth, and none of Josie’s problems with her father were Abigail’s fault.
When Abigail released her, she said, “We missed you at the memorial service.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to come.”
The disappointed expression on Abigail’s face was the exact same one she’d often given Josie during her teenage years. “I know, but I’d hoped you would’ve changed your mind.”
Even though they’d already had this conversation on the phone, Abigail’s gentle rebuke stung. Abigail, of all people, should have understood how difficult this was for her. When Josie left, her father told her she was dead to him. He had been the one to send back everything to her unopened.
Now that he was dead, was she just supposed to forget all that?
Josie shook her head. “Coming here is hard enough for me. Let’s get the papers signed and over with.”
Abigail looked at her like she wanted to say something else but then stopped and stared in the other direction. Josie turned to see what Abigail had been looking at.
Brady King. The other reason she’d left. Brady had always told her he’d stand beside her to help her stand up to her father. That had been a lie.
She hated that he still looked good. Hated that her heart still skipped a beat, even though she had a million reasons why it was completely inappropriate.
And one of them, the biggest one, was right beside him.
The teenage girl walking next to him.
All those years ago, when Maddie Antere claimed to be carrying Brady’s baby, Josie had wanted to believe it was a lie, just like all the other things Maddie used to lie about. But apparently, Maddie had been telling the truth. Brady had confirmed it long ago, but it wasn’t until now, seeing the man she’d once thought she was going to marry, and his daughter, that it really hit her. Her throat tightened, and as much as she’d told herself throughout the years that she was completely over Brady, she hadn’t expected to feel so much pain at seeing him again.
The pain intensified as Maddie, the teen’s mother, walked up to Brady and put her arm around him. Though Abigail had told Josie that Brady never married Maddie, they clearly still had a close relationship. It surprised Josie to once again feel a pang of jealousy when she saw them together.
“You should have told me they were going to be here,” Josie told Abigail under her breath.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come if I did.”
Her unapologetic tone reminded Josie of how bad the whole betrayal had been.
Her father might have told others that Josie was his world, but if that had been true, why had he been okay with Brady’s infidelity? Worse, her father had given Brady a job so he would have a way to support Maddie and their baby.
No, that wasn’t the worst. Brady had known how bad her relationship with her father was, so on top of being unfaithful to her with her worst enemy, he’d gone to work for the very man they’d planned on leaving behind when starting their new lives.
Brady had chosen the people who’d hurt her the most.
Josie took a deep breath. It didn’t matter now. That was in the past. Her father had wanted a dramatic will reading, so here she was.
She’d be facing almost every person who’d ever hurt her, except her father. And Abigail, the only reason she’d been willing to come.
Fighting the desire to get back in her car and drive away, she walked into the barn, to the small conference room in the office area, taking in the familiar faces. They were all staring at her, as she knew they would, considering she hadn’t been back for fifteen years. Though everyone looked a bit older, it seemed none of them had changed—just her, she supposed.
“Junior.” Hal Evans, who had been her father’s best friend, greeted her warmly, as if her absence had been a mere vacation.
“What are you going to do with the stables?” he asked. “It’ll be so good, having you back. Your father always wanted you to run this place.”
“I’m not staying,” she said. “I only came as a courtesy to Abigail, who said she needed me here. But I’ll be headed back home when this is over.”
Hal looked at her funny. “But this is your home. Who will run the stables if you don’t?”
Josie shook her head. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. It’s not my problem.”
“You would say that,” Maddie said, entering the room. “That’s always been what’s wrong with you. You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself.”
Of course that would be Maddie’s response. Josie had spent her entire childhood being tormented by Maddie. Maddie had always strived to undermine Josie, making her life miserable and doing everything she could to one-up her.
But surely, after fifteen years, Maddie had been able to let it go. After all, Maddie had won.
“What does it matter to you?” Josie asked. “You should be happy I’m not staying. You’ve gotten everything you wanted in life, so why can’t you forget whatever childish feud we had?”
The flash in Maddie’s eyes told Josie that the other woman was spoiling for a fight. Brady put his hand on Maddie’s arm. “Let it go.”
Brady turned his attention back to Josie. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said. “I know you two had your differences, but it’s a loss nonetheless.”
Josie shrugged, trying not to let Brady’s comment about them having their differences sting so much. If only her issues with her father were as simple as “having their differences.” No, her problems with her father were far deeper than that. He’d never complimented her when she excelled and he’d berated her when she erred. He’d pushed her into a life she didn’t plan on pursuing and turned a deaf ear when she talked about the future she really cared about. She’d wanted to get out of the stables and this town as soon as she could. The old Brady knew better. How had she loved this man so much when he’d clearly not loved her at all?
“My father hasn’t been part of my life for fifteen years,” Josie said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same level of grief as the rest of you. It’s probably not appropriate that I be here, except Abigail insisted.”
The edges of Brady’s eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. “We were all hoping that the two of you would resolve your problems. I’m sure it must be difficult to have lost him without any closure.”
Josie fought the urge to roll her eyes. First of all, Brady had no right trying to comfort her. They weren’t boyfriend/girlfriend anymore, and they certainly weren’t even friends. Secondly, none of these people could pretend to understand her emotions about her father’s death. She didn’t need closure. She had received plenty of therapy for that. All Josie needed was to get whatever show this was over with and get back to her life.
Still, as she looked around the room at all the red-rimmed eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to say something that would offend any of them.
“I think we’re all dealing with it as best as we can,” she said, giving Brady a small smile.
He came at her like he was going to try to hug her, and she quickly stepped away. What right did he have to think that she’d welcome a hug from him?
And yet, part of her craved it. Until he’d betrayed her, the safest place had always been in his arms. Why, after all this time, could he still have an impact on her?
He gestured at an empty chair. “You should take a seat. It looks like we were the last people to arrive, and I’m sure everyone is eager to get started.”
Even though it was the fake politeness of a man who no longer knew her, it still hurt for him to act like nothing had happened between them. If their time together had meant anything to him, he’d know just how hard this was for her.
The worst part was, she shouldn’t have cared so much about Brady and his reactions. How could she feel any sense of attachment to the man who’d betrayed her with her worst enemy?
As soon as Josie found a seat, Albert Maitland, who had been the family attorney and a close friend of her father’s since before Josie had been born, cleared his throat. As he read through the will, Josie tried not to roll her eyes at the way her father had nickel-and-dimed everything. Though he’d given Abigail the house—with an odd provision that she only owned the dwelling itself—the other gifts were small potatoes. A hundred dollars here, a hundred dollars there—it hardly seemed worth the time and expense of going through probate to give everyone their share. Everyone else in the room seemed gratified that he’d remembered them enough to provide them with even such a small bequest.
If anything, this proved just how much Josie didn’t belong here. All these people thought her father was a wonderful hero of a man, and all Josie could remember was how badly he treated her.
“‘The remainder of my estate,’” Albert said, “‘including the stables, all of our property, all of my other assets, all the animals, all of the items contained within the barns and house and all other outbuildings, as well as any remaining cash in my account, I leave to my daughter, Joseph Stephen Shepherd Junior.’”
Josie felt sick. With all the insulting bequests, she’d been expecting a slap in the face where he’d say what a horrible daughter she’d been and how she deserved absolutely nothing and wasn’t worthy of the name. But this—this was almost worse. He’d given her everything. She looked over at Abigail, who was silently crying. The tears running down her cousin’s face made Josie’s heart hurt. Her father had given Abigail the house, but Josie had been given the power over it. Abigail hadn’t even been given the contents of the house, just the building and not the land upon which it sat.
And in a flash of insight, Josie knew. She understood. This was her father’s way of forcing her to come back. Big Joe had known that Josie would not throw her cousin out on the street. She wasn’t going to take anything from any of these people, who had worked so hard.
“What if I don’t accept?” Josie said. “These people all deserve it far more than I do, and it’s not fair that he left me everything. I want them all to have it. How do you distribute it between the rest of them?”
Surely, this would take away some of the angry stares directed at her.
Albert scratched his head but didn’t look surprised by her question. “Then everything will be sold and donated to charity. Big Joe’s wish was for you to take responsibility for the stables.”
Josie couldn’t bear to look at her cousin. Abigail had devoted her life to the stables, and it was incredibly unfair that Josie benefited over her.
“What if I sell it?” Josie asked. “Is there anything in the will preventing me from selling?”
Albert looked surprised, and the gasps from the rest of the people gathered made her realize that no one had expected her to say that.
But why would they? None of them knew her anymore. They hadn’t really known her to begin with. That was the trouble. Proof she had to leave.
Scratching his head again, Albert said, “Well, I guess you could do so. He never said anything about that.”
He looked around the room, then his gaze settled back on Josie. “But if you sell, what about all these people and their jobs? What about the people who board their horses here? What about the kids who develop their riding skills and confidence through all the competitions the stables enter? If you sell this place, that will all end.”
He was using the wrong argument to keep her from selling. All those reasons were exactly why she wanted to sell.
“No offense, but I don’t believe in the stables’ mission of developing the youth. I think they do a terrible job of it, doing more harm than good. I’m the director of a rec center in the Denver metro area, and I’ve studied child psychology. So I know what it means to develop the lives of young people, and I’m already doing that. I don’t need the stables to accomplish that goal.”
“What about people’s jobs?” Maddie screeched. “You might have your big-city job to go back to, but what about the rest of us? You are so selfish. Thinking about yourself, and not what anybody here needs.”
She was selfish? Maddie was the one freaking out over whether or not she would have an income. It wasn’t like Hidden Valley was all that far from civilization, anyway. Sure, it was a bit of a commute, but it wasn’t like when Josie was growing up here, when it was truly the middle of nowhere. The cities around them had grown, developed, and were spreading out toward the tiny community of Hidden Valley. They could all find jobs.
“I didn’t realize you worked for the stables,” Josie said.
“I don’t,” Maddie said. “While I have a good job at the nursing home, there’s Brady to think about. If he doesn’t have work, he can’t pay his child support. Do you think I can support Kayla on my own? No. I can’t. But you don’t care about my child. I’m sure you don’t care about the children of anybody else here. We have families, and you will throw it all away because of some stupid vendetta you have against your father.”
Brady put his hand on Maddie’s arm, but Maddie pulled away. “No. I’m not going to shut up and be nice. I’m sorry if the rest of you want to act like this is wonderful, the prodigal coming home, but we all know that the fight between Big Joe and Junior started with Junior throwing a hissy fit at the Sundown Horse Show.”
The room fell silent again, and the sick feeling in Josie’s stomach only grew worse.
Was that what everyone thought? That this was all because of some hissy fit at a competition?
It was true that her final public fight with her father had been at a horse show. But her differences with him were much bigger than that.
Josie hadn’t realized that others had interpreted it as a petty disagreement. But now was not the time to defend herself.
Brushing a stray tear from her eye, Josie looked at Maddie. “If that’s what you believe, then you don’t know the first thing about my father or me. But the truth is, you never did know me. You’ve always had this picture in your mind of who you think I was, but it wasn’t true. The situation is way more complicated than anyone here knows, and I’m doing my best to be respectful of everyone else’s feelings, so the least you can do is respect mine.”
“If you respected people’s feelings, you wouldn’t want to sell the stables,” Maddie snapped, prompting murmurs of agreement from everyone else gathered in the room.
She realized that there was not one friendly or sympathetic face as she looked around. Even Abigail appeared disgusted with her, and her cousin had been the only person to support her when Josie had left.
Even worse, she hated seeing the disappointment on Brady’s face. Why did she care what he thought? She had nothing to prove to him.
“You can’t sell,” Albert said. “The only people willing to buy something this big would be a developer. They’d put condos and tract homes on this place. We keep fighting to save this area from becoming overdeveloped, and you’ll be handing it right to them. Please don’t do this to us.”
Though she was sympathetic to the idea of not wanting to develop the area, it wasn’t her call what happened to the land. If her father hadn’t wanted the stables to fall into the hands of a developer, he would’ve done something to stop it.
That was the thing. They were all blaming her, but her father was the one who had done it.
“I can’t run the stables,” Josie said softly. “I have my own life. I work with my own youth organization. You talk about all the people here who need me, but you don’t understand that I already have people I’m helping. What about them? We have over five thousand children enrolled in our programs. Are you asking me to abandon them?”
Her words didn’t seem to elicit sympathy from any of them, and at this point, everyone was probably too emotionally overwrought to think or discuss things rationally. Even Josie was not in the right place to make a rational decision at this point.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this was my father’s last-ditch effort to get me home, but it failed.”
She turned to Albert. “Is there anything else I need to hear right now? I need time to think. I’ll call you in the morning, and we can set up a time to sort all this out.”
Albert nodded slowly, so she turned and walked out of the room. If stares were daggers, she had a million of them in her back right now. But what was she supposed to do? Giving them what they wanted would ruin the life she’d built for herself. Maintaining her life seemed like it was going to ruin theirs. Was there any way they could find a compromise?
She was halfway to the car when she heard Brady calling her.
“Junior. I mean, Josie. Can we talk?”
Brady hadn’t expected to be hit with so many feelings at seeing Josie again. It had never felt right calling her “Junior,” and when they were younger, Josie used to play around with nicknames other than the one she had. But her father made it very clear to everyone that she was, and always would be, Junior. Josie fit her. It was feminine, soft and pretty, just like her.
Seeing her in front of him now, dressed exactly like she’d stepped out of one of those magazines she used to read as a teenager, he could see that Josie Shepherd was exactly the woman she used to tell him she wanted to be.
Beautiful, feminine, someone who had charted her own life.
Funny how quickly the old feelings he thought he’d banished had returned. But that wasn’t what was important now.
“Josie!” he called out to her again, as she appeared to have not heard him the first time. Or was ignoring him. He had to talk to her.
Josie couldn’t sell the stables.
She hadn’t been around to see the changes, so to her, it was a lot of bad memories. However, everyone in that room knew what a valuable program this was for the kids. He just had to convince her of it.
Josie had been savaged in there, and while Brady should have done more to stand up for her, he’d been in too much shock over the situation to say or do anything.
Part of him didn’t blame Josie for her reaction.
Brady had known how difficult things were for her growing up. He understood her motivation. He just knew the lives that would be ruined if she sold the stables.
He had to convince her that the stables were worth keeping.
Brady caught up with her when she was almost to her car. One of those environmentally friendly things that was as useless on a ranch as a miniskirt was on a horse.
“Josie!” he yelled again, and this time she turned. Her eyes were red, like she was about to cry and was just waiting to get to the car to let her tears loose. He knew that expression. Had seen it probably hundreds of times at riding competitions.
“Please talk to me,” he said.
Brady had once been Josie’s confidant, and what he’d seen had been enough for him to understand that the relationship with her father was far more complicated than what most knew.
Few people ever saw that side of Joe’s relationship with Josie, so it was no wonder they were so perplexed at her lack of emotion over her father’s passing.
Which left it to Brady to convince her that saving the stables was about more than her relationship with her father. And, as much as he hated to admit it, was more important than the pain he’d caused her.
Fine. He’d admit it. Brady had broken Josie’s heart. One stupid drunken mistake, and he’d lost the love of his life.
The lift to her chin as she looked at him now reminded him of when she’d asked him if it was true about Maddie’s pregnancy. She hadn’t let him speak beyond his “yes,” and she was going to avoid talking to him now if she could.
“I need space,” Josie said. “We can talk another time.”
Brady knew her well enough that if she had anything to say about it, another time would be never.
The crunch of gravel behind him made Brady turn.
“Please don’t go. I need you home,” Abigail said.
When Brady returned his gaze to Josie, tears had begun falling down her face. He took a step forward to offer her comfort, but she moved back and her fancy high heel twisted, causing her to fall.
“Are you okay?” Brady rushed to help her up. Abigail wasn’t far behind.
“I can do it myself,” Josie said, struggling to get back on her feet.
The same stubborn woman. The same grit and determination written all over her face that had been one of the reasons he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. Fifteen years apart wasn’t enough to make him forget just how much she’d meant to him.
Getting her to agree to keep the stables running seemed like an impossible dream, given that she wouldn’t even let him help her up.
She’d be insulted if he said so, but the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
It was quickly obvious, though, that by the way she was struggling, Josie’s left ankle had been seriously injured.
“You need to see a doctor,” Brady said.
“I’m fine.”
So much vulnerability under her strong words. He’d been one of the few she’d ever let see that side of her, and even now, he immediately recognized it for what it was.
Josie needed help, but she wasn’t going to reveal her weakness by admitting it.
She used to let him help her, but he’d stupidly gone and ruined that.
Abigail had already whipped out her cell phone.
“I told you I’m fine,” Josie said, her voice almost a screech. Tears started rolling down her face freely, and it was probably a combination of both physical and emotional pain.
Brady took a step back. “Then walk over to me.”
An unfair challenge, but by the way she favored her right side, Brady was almost certain her left ankle was broken, if not severely sprained. As part of his duties at the stables, he’d taken several first-aid courses, leading to him becoming a paramedic for the local volunteer fire department. He’d handled enough ankle injuries to know that Josie was hurt far more seriously than she was letting on.
But the only way he could convince her of that would be if she failed this test.
Sure enough, Josie could only take one step before she winced with what was probably excruciating pain.
When he walked over to her, Josie didn’t resist. Abigail had stepped away and was talking on the phone, probably to Bob Francis, the local doctor who helped with medical needs at the stables from time to time.
Brady put his arm around Josie. “I’m going to help you over to the bench, where I can do a better job of examining your ankle.”
The set of Josie’s jaw as she nodded told him that she was in too much pain to argue.
It didn’t take more than a cursory examination to know Josie had a serious injury. Brady waved Abigail over.
“I’m pretty sure it’s broken,” he said. “Tell Doc we’ll meet him at the clinic. I’m going to help her into my truck. While we’re doing that, grab an ice pack so we can keep the swelling down.”
Josie looked up at him, a forlorn expression filling her face. “Maybe it’s just a bad sprain,” she said.
“Even if it’s just a sprain, you’re going to have to stay off of it for a while. Do you have someone at home who will be able to help you for a few weeks?”
The question was supposed to be of medical concern, but he had more than a professional reason for asking, if he was honest with himself.
While he was being honest, the slow shake of her head made him feel better, even though he should be more concerned about her being alone with an injury.
“I know there’s a lot of past between us,” Brady said. “But you’ve got to let me help you here.”
Mercifully, she didn’t argue as he put his arm around her and assisted her into his truck. From the way her brow creased, he could tell she was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t give her anything for it until they talked to the doctor, but maybe he could distract her.
“What have you been doing with your life since you left?” Brady asked.
He tried telling himself that he was just being polite, but the truth was, he wanted to know everything.
“We’re not friends anymore,” Josie said stiffly.
Even though Josie was right, her words stung on a deeper level than he’d imagined they would, considering the two of them hadn’t spoken in fifteen years.
“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But we can at least be polite. I’d like to hear about your life now.”
He wanted to add that maybe they could find a way to save the stables so it wouldn’t impact her life, but the hard set to her jaw told him that this was the wrong time.
“I told you,” Josie said. “We’re not friends anymore. My life is none of your business.”
As the tears rolled down her cheeks, he wished he could take her in his arms and tell her it was going to be okay, that they’d figure out a way to fix things together.
But Josie was right. They weren’t friends anymore.