Tally had finished half her lemonade when Devon pushed open the screen door and paused in the doorway.
She pointed to the pitcher and second glass.
“Help yourself.”
“Thanks, it sounded good.”
It had been a long time since he’d had fresh-made lemonade. He poured the cold, tart liquid into his glass then glanced around for a chair. None in sight, only the swing or the railing. Sitting gingerly beside her, he carefully left a lot of room between them.
Silently they moved to and fro, sipping the refreshing beverage, eyes on the distant hills.
“How big is the ranch?” Devon asked, curious about the setup and his hostess. He’d been told what to expect for himself, but not about the people he’d be living with for three months. Who was Tally Newcome? How did she wind up volunteering for the program? How many people were involved? He glanced at her hand—no ring. Was she divorced? Widowed?
“About a thousand acres deeded land. We also graze cattle on BLM land—Bureau of Land Management which is government owned.”
“Has it always been in your family?”
Devon could see the house was old and in need of some serious work. While his room was fresh and newly decorated, the hallway and stairs needed attention. It looked as if the outside hadn’t been painted in decades.
“I inherited it a few years ago. Before that I didn’t know it existed. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she said softly.
Devon looked at her, wondering at her apparent delight in a place that needed so much. A place located far from a city, from stores and theaters. Her blue eyes seemed to shine, and soft color stole into her cheeks. She looked almost pretty when she smiled.
Devon felt a tightening inside and turned away. He didn’t want to feel anything. He’d put in his three months, follow the rules of the place and then leave.
“There’s still oodles to do yet,” she said. “I’m taking one project at a time. We did the barn first, so I could house the animals. Then we renovated the bunkhouse. The bedrooms and kitchen came next. By the end of next year, I hope to have the house completely redone. Then we can concentrate on building the herd.”
“Why are you in Fresh Start?” He needed to know what her motives were. He liked things orderly. And she was difficult to place, different from the women he was used to. Different from Sheila. Or was she merely extraordinary at hiding her true colors? Sheila’d been an expert.
Would Tally Newcome lie, too? Or have some convincing tale that sounded good?
Tally’s gaze dropped to the glass in her hand. She watched as the ice swirled around when she tipped the glass this way and that. The ranch had belonged to her father and during all those years she’d cared for him he’d never mentioned it. All that time it had sat here, a refuge for Bobby, for her and she’d never known about it. So much wasted time and opportunities.
Could she explain about her brother? She didn’t as a rule talk about Bobby. Or her father. Or anything that happened before she moved to the ranch. Did she even know why she felt so strongly she had to do this? Would Devon understand why she hadn’t just hidden away, worked on her paintings and ignored the rest of the world?
“Let’s just say for now that I have strong reasons and am blessed with a way to help. To make a difference in young lives.”
“You make it sound like you’ve been doing this for decades. You look pretty young to me,” he said, wondering how old she was.
The glasses and hairstyle did nothing to enhance her looks. But she had traces of real beauty. Especially her eyes. They were expressive behind those glasses. He’d like to see her when she wasn’t wearing glasses.
“I’ll be thirty-two in a few months. You are my fifteenth guest.”
“Hardly ready for the old folks home,” he answered, suddenly not wanting to be drawn into a personal discussion with her, not wanting to learn more about her or the darn program. She was the same age as he. It gave them a bond that he didn’t want to explore. He was a loner now. He’d chosen to stay away from people he knew, to find a new line of work, and avoid problems that any kind of relationship caused.
Restless energy filled him, threatening to spill out. He rose to his feet, draining his glass.
“I’m going for a walk.”
It wasn’t a question, but he paused as if awaiting an answer. Or permission.
“Fine.” Tally’s voice was soft. She checked her watch. “I plan on supper at six-thirty, if you’re not back by then, I’ll hold yours.”
She kept silent as he strode off down the driveway, heading for the quiet country road. Major stood, his attention on Devon until Tally touched his shoulder.
“Go Major, go with him. Walk.”
The dog needed no further urging, but tore off after Devon, catching up and settling down to a slow trot, sniffing the grass at the side of the drive, darting back and forth.
Puffs of dust rose with each step. Devon noted his shoes would be covered by the time he reached the road, but he didn’t care. For the first time in years he was free. The big dog caught up with him, prancing alongside. Devon smiled, a small triumph for his first day. He could go anywhere, do anything he wanted. As long as he lived here for the next three months. For now the walk was enough. He glanced back but didn’t see Tally. He was truly on his own and it felt glorious.
Turning onto the country road, he stretched out his legs and picked up his pace. He wanted the exercise. And to taste the freedom of choice.
She let him go without a protest.
He looked at the deep-blue sky overhead, the golden hills gently rising around him. In the distance, he could see the tips of the mountains still covered with snow. But there were no other houses in sight, no cars. He was truly alone. What a difference from prison. From his place in San Francisco.
Yet this had been what he’d requested. He couldn’t go back. There was nothing about his old life he could return to. Better to change everything and go forward. His pace increased as he stretched out his legs, drew in the hot dry air. He picked up his speed until he was running.
Tally watched Devon and Major head up the quiet country road. If it hadn’t been so late, they could have taken the truck to the meadow where the rest of the crew planned to spend the night. But the only way to get where they would be camping was cross-country and she didn’t relish driving when the shadows were so deep she couldn’t tell a rut from a ravine.
They’d stay home tonight, eat here. She’d explain the routine and rules and let him meet the gang tomorrow. Rising, she gathered their glasses and headed for the kitchen wondering what to do about dinner. It was almost six. Would Devon return soon? Should she wait or start cooking?
For an instant, she faltered. What if he kept going? What would she do in a case like that?
She’d never had a guest skip out on her before. But then, she’d never had a guest like Devon before. He didn’t appear to need anyone or anything. He could definitely cope in the outside world without any assistance.
Which made him quite different from her usual assignments. Dangerously different? Only to her own peace of mind.
A quick knock sounded on the screen door some time later. Devon opened it, stepping inside. Major came bounding in beside him.
“Hi, fellow, did y’all have a good walk?”
Tally leaned over to ruffle the fur around Major’s neck, smiling up at her guest, trying not to notice how his eyes seemed to look deep into her soul. She constantly felt as if he were assessing her. Did she come up wanting?
Flustered, she cleared her throat.
“Devon, this is your home while you’re here. No need to knock or anything. At night we lock up. But that’s after bedtime. During the day I don’t lock up. There’s no crime around here and with Major and all...”
She’d done it again. How could she keep harping on crime? She hadn’t mentioned it around her other guests on their first days. It was the last thing Devon needed to hear.
Flushing slightly in embarrassment, feeling awkward, she hoped he’d attribute her heightened color to leaning over the dog. She pushed her glasses back in place and stood.
Devon moved near the sink and leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. He gazed at her as if she were an intriguing puzzle he could solve if he studied her long enough. His staring kept Tally on edge and she didn’t like the feeling.
“Do I help with dinner?” he asked as Tally opened the refrigerator.
“Dinner tonight could be a small problem. I thought we’d be eating with the others, so didn’t really plan a meal. Since I thought you’d be younger, I mean, I thought my new guest would be younger...” She took a deep breath. “I could always throw together some hamburgers—not the most nutritious meal for your first night. But Alberta is a much better cook than I am. She has a mothering instinct.”
He tilted his head to one side.
“Is that something you’re trying for? The reason you pull back your hair to make you look older? Wear no makeup and dowdy clothes?” he asked. “To give an impression of being someone’s mother?”
“Actually I always dress this way.”
She turned back to the refrigerator, trying not to let his words hurt. Did she look so awful? Her hair hung heavy down her back, but it was neat and tidy. And who had time, or the inclination, for makeup when dust and perspiration would only make it run?
Still, his words wounded.
Tally knew she wasn’t pretty, but no one had ever told her in so many words before. And it especially hurt that the drop-dead gorgeous male standing in her kitchen had said it. She took a deep breath, eyes staring blindly into the refrigerator. What was she doing?
“I have all the fixings for hamburgers, fries and milk shakes. But I don’t know, would you rather have ham or roast beef? I can warm up something quickly,” she said, proud her voice remained steady.
She wasn’t here to interest some man. It didn’t matter what he thought about how she looked.
Devon moved away from the counter and came to stand beside her. His hands gently touched her shoulder and he turned her to face him, his finger lifting her chin so he could see her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Tally Newcome. I appreciate the opportunity to be here. I’ll make it work, you can count on that. And I’d love a hamburger and fries.”
His voice was soft, deep and as sweet to Tally’s ears as honey.
She nodded, the heat from his finger spiraling through her just like earlier that afternoon when he’d taken her hand.
Stepping away, breaking contact, she took a deep breath. Ignoring the pounding of her heart, she turned back to the open refrigerator. She spied a bottle in the back.
“Oh, I have a small bottle of sparkling cider. We could celebrate the start of your new life. Would you care for any?”
Her voice came out breathless, and she refused to look over her shoulder at him. She didn’t keep alcohol on the premises, but they usually made a fuss to celebrate a new guest’s first day of freedom. And their moving on.
“That would be good.”
Tally heard the note of sincerity and was glad she’d remembered the dark-green bottle. She found glasses and filled two before she began to cook.
“To your future success, Devon.” Tally offered a toast.
“May they all be honest ones,” he replied wickedly.
Tally choked on her sip, and burst out laughing. So much for the concern about watching her tongue.
“Devon, how awful!”
She relaxed at last. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. She’d been awkward around Peter and Manuel at first, she remembered. And absolutely floored when Trisha had arrived. But she’d never felt as self-conscious around them as she did around Devon. Never so aware of herself as a woman. Of vague yearnings...
Stop it! she admonished herself. He was no different from the other guests.
Liar, a small voice whispered.
He chuckled at her amusement, then paused, looking at her in surprise.
“That’s the first laugh I’ve had in a long time,” he said slowly in dawning awareness.
“I’ve been worried to death every time I open my mouth that I’ll say something to embarrass you,” Tally admitted, testing the tentative rapport she sensed.
“You would have already if I’d been a burglar,” he teased.
Tally swallowed hard at his look. His eyes had softened to silver, his grin was a trifle lopsided, as if rusty. She felt her insides begin to melt. She’d already thought him gorgeous, but with that smile he looked terrific! Did he have a clue what his smile did? He should come with a warning label.
“It’s harder than I expected. I don’t want to say anything that will offend you, so if I do, just tell me,” Tally said turning back to get out the meat.
It was past time to start cooking if they wanted to eat any time soon.
By the time dinner was over, Tally grew confident Devon’s visit would become as successful as any of her other guests’. He ate everything she put before him, asked questions about the ranch, listened carefully to her review of the rules and explanation of assignments. And he even helped with the dishes.
When she’d put the last glass away, Tally suggested coffee on the porch, although it was already growing dark. The temperature had dropped and the evening air felt cool and pleasant, very refreshing after the heat of the day. A brief time outdoors before retiring always helped her sleep.
They sat in silence in the growing twilight, the only illumination that which spilled through the tall windows from the living room lamps.
The hills blended into a muted silhouette as the light faded from the sky, stark trees outlined on the horizon. There was a hush across the land while the birds and animals settled in for the night.
Gently Tally set the swing in motion, sipping her coffee. She was physically aware of Devon’s sitting close to her. His shoulder only a few inches away. His long legs stretched out, bending and flexing as the swing moved back and forth.
She frowned, afraid to look his way. This was madness. She couldn’t be attracted to her guest—she was here to help him, to be a kind of mentor, not develop some kind of romantic fascination.
“Where are you from, Tally?” Devon asked. “Not California. The south somewhere, obviously.”
“The great state of Georgia, suh,” she drawled, making the words stretch to several syllables each. “Though not recently,” Tally said in a more normal tone.
“Lived in California long, then?”
“Almost twenty years. It was so long ago when I left Georgia that I can scarcely remember it. I had just started middle school.”
“So how did a Georgia cracker come to California?”
“My mama died,” she said flatly, staring off to the dark hills. “My father and she divorced when I was a baby. I never met him before coming west.”
“That’s tough.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
And that was all she had to say. The words so commonplace, reflecting none of the turmoil she’d experienced. None of the bewilderment when her Aunt Caroline had put her on a plane and said goodbye. None of the desolation she’d felt when first moving in with her father. And reflecting none of the joy of her brief time with Bobby.
Tally remained quiet. It had been years since she’d thought of her mama. She’d been only a few years older than Tally was now when she’d died. It was a shock to realize she’d been gone for almost two decades.
“Do you ever go back? To visit?” Devon asked.
“Nope.” Tally stopped thinking about her past. It was best forgotten. “How about you? I hear a trace of the south in your speech. Where are you from?”
“I’m from the East Coast, too—Maryland. I came to California for graduate school at Stanford. Got a job in San Francisco after that.”
And then went to prison, she finished silently. What had happened? And, how had he ended up this program? With a college degree, and a graduate degree, he didn’t need Fresh Start. But he’d signed up for it. Why? Just for an early release? Or did he truly want a new start?
“Tomorrow we need to map out a strategy for your time here,” she said.
“Such as?” he asked cautiously.
“What kind of job you want, how to look for a job, get some clothes, all sorts of things,” she said briskly.
“Not yet,” he murmured.
“What?”
She tried to see him in the dim light, but could only make out his silhouette.
“I’d like a little time just to get used to being out, being free again.”
That sounded reasonable, Tally conceded. It was a big change. A few days couldn’t hurt, though the program urged immediacy. He could start out with chores around the place, get to know the others.
“We’ll plan on making plans.”
She frowned. She was the one supposed to make the decisions. Why did she suddenly feel he was taking charge? Maybe she wasn’t forceful enough for this kind of work.
Or against this kind of man?
She hadn’t had any trouble dealing with the others. Had become quite adept actually, in getting them to go along with her plans. But the others were younger and looking for a fresh start. Devon was not in the same league by a long shot.
“Have you always been a rancher? Why did you agree to sponsor people in Fresh Start?”
Devon’s curiosity hadn’t been satisfied. What did she get out of all this? What was her angle? He knew she had to have one—everybody did. No one did things that didn’t get them something they wanted. Only, he couldn’t figure out hers. He didn’t see any big payoff in taking parolees. The place was falling apart. Her clothes were clean and neat, but certainly not stylish.
“I’ve only been ranching for five years. My primary income comes from illustrating children’s books. My friend Jimmie May and I are a team. She writes them, I illustrate. We’ve done more than two dozen. You’ll see my work all over the place.”
“The watercolors in the bedroom are yours?” he asked.
“Yes. Those I did for fun. They aren’t in any books.”
“I like them. They’re restful. Pleasing to the eye.”
The various paintings were done in shades of blue. They were different from what he thought of as watercolors—bolder, dramatic. Unexpected.
Like his hostess.
“But why are you involved in Fresh Start?” he persisted.
“I told you, so I can make a difference.”
“Most people have a personal investment when they do something,” he countered.
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
“Umm, maybe. But in this, I merely want to help.”
He looked out over the darkening landscape. The hills showed nothing but grass and a few trees. He hadn’t seen the cattle she spoke of. It seemed a lonely place. He wondered why she lived so far away from a town. Didn’t she miss the advantages?
“Do you ever get lonely here?” he asked, curiosity rising again despite his vow to keep a distance.
“How could I? Normally this place is teaming with activity. I have a foreman and two cowhands. A cook. And my guests.
Jimmie May comes by several times a week to work. There’s too much going on to get lonely.”
Tally glanced at Devon.
“I lived with my father until he died five years ago. He was chronically ill with crippling arthritis and then Alzheimer’s. He needed constant care. I didn’t really have much chance to do a lot when he was alive.”
Purposefully keeping quiet about how domineering the man had been, how demanding, she thrust the memory of those years away. They were gone forever and she was free.
“Upon his death I inherited this place. It requires a lot of work, so who has time to miss anything?”
Devon listened for more. Something was missing. The tone of her voice was careful, deliberate.
Her summary was brief, leaving out details. Had she ever married? Did she have any children? Want any?
He thought briefly of his sisters. Both had married young—their children were already in school. He’d missed three years of their lives. And would probably miss a lot more. He had no plans to return to Maryland. He could imagine how appalled his family would be if they ever learned where he’d been during the past three years.
When Tally rose and said good-night Devon remained on the swing, still savoring the feeling of freedom. What would happen if he just walked down the driveway and kept going? Would the sheriff be called? Or could he just disappear and never be found?
There were only three months left.
Once Devon went to his room, Tally slipped back downstairs to lock up the old house. She took a book to read. Keyed up from the day’s events she needed something to make her drowsy enough to sleep and forget about her new guest.
Had he gone right to bed? Or was he lying in the dark savoring the difference from prison? She wondered what he thought about on his first night of freedom. Was he glad he’d come to the ranch? Or did he wish he’d gone straight back to San Francisco?
What would his future hold?
She drifted to sleep with the light still on, the forgotten book in her hand, thinking about her newest guest no matter how hard she tried not to.
A soft rap at her door brought Tally instantly awake. Devon thrust it open and stood in the frame, tall and dark, fully dressed. His eyes glittered in the light. For a shocked moment panic washed through Tally as she raised up on one arm. What did he want? Why was he here in her room? She had told him men weren’t allowed on the second floor. Especially when she was alone in the house. The nearest neighbor lived miles away. The rest of the ranch crew was now high in the hills. For the first time she was conscious of the isolation of the ranch.
Throwing a quick glance at her clock she saw it was 3:00 am.
“Devon, what is it?”
Tally took a deep breath, resisting the strong temptation to draw the covers to her neck. Gripping the edge of the sheet tightly, she tried to remain calm. Her heart began to race.
Remember the guests in the program were not violent offenders, she told herself. They’d all been carefully screened before being accepted. She had nothing to fear. Anyway, Major would protect her.
Maybe, she amended as the dog leaped up from the rug beside her bed, tail wagging to greet his new friend.
“Sorry, I saw the light beneath the door and thought you were awake. Do you always sleep with the light on?”
He stared down at her in the big bed, yet saw the entire room from the corner of his eye. Totally feminine, with lacy white curtains at the window and dainty French provincial furnishings, he felt as out of place here as he had in a cell.
His gaze remained on Tally. Her cheeks were rosy from sleep, her eyes a deep-blue. Her hair swirled like a cloud around her face, down her shoulders. It was almost too much hair for her small frame. But it looked silky soft and tantalizing. Devon felt the stirring of attraction. It had been a long time since he’d wanted a woman. And she was infinitely appealing with that pink gown that so clearly left her arms bare, her skin gleaming like ivory in the lamplight.
Tally shook her head, eyes wide with uncertainty until she saw the book across her legs. “I guess I fell asleep reading.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you don’t want men on this floor. But the other girls aren’t here and I did think you were up. I heard something in the yard. Not knowing the set-up here, I didn’t know if you could have a fox in the hen house.”
“Good grief.” Tally pushed back the covers and stood, snatching her robe from the nearby chair. “Probably a coyote. We’re bothered with them from time to time.”
“The chickens are squawking. I couldn’t see anything in the yard. Is there a light out there?”
She nodded as she looked at him.
“You’re dressed.”
“Haven’t gone to bed yet,” he stated.
“It’s the middle of the night,” she said, hurrying down the wide stairs.
In seconds, she was through the kitchen and she switched on the outside lights. Tally flung open the door and hurried out to the yard.
A blur of black and brown fur flew by, Major in hot pursuit seconds later, barking loudly as he ran after the coyote.
“Darn,” Tally stared after her disappearing dog. “I hope he doesn’t catch him. I don’t want him in a fight.”
Devon stood beside her.
“Shall I check on the chickens? I have shoes on.”
Tally looked at her bare feet and sighed, thankful she’d remembered her robe.
“If you would, please. I see several from here and both ducks, but hate to think there are any injured or dead.”
In two minutes Devon had checked the coop and reported all was well. Major came trotting back, his tail wagging.
“Good boy, you chased him away.”
Tally patted her dog, checking him over for any injuries. She straightened and looked at Devon.
“Thanks for raising the alarm. A few more minutes and I expect I would have lost a few hens.”
He nodded and looked up at the sky. For a long moment the silence stretched between them. Tally grew cold.
“I’m going back in,” she said.
“Is it possible for me to stay outside for a while?” he asked, turning to look at her. “It’s the first time I’ve been outside at night in three years.”
“Sure, if you wish.”
Slipping back into the kitchen, she closed the door. She knew how it felt to never be able to do what you wanted when you wanted. Knew he’d relish the taste of freedom as she had when her father had died. She enjoyed being on her own, not at the beck and call of a querulous, sick old man.
She relished being her own boss, doing what she wanted. Making her own decisions, seeing how things turned out.
Devon had been in one kind of prison, but she’d lived for more than fourteen years in one of another kind. She shivered. If Devon wanted to stay out all night, it was fine with her, as long as he didn’t leave. She peered from the window, trying to see him, wondering what she would do if he didn’t return.