The next morning, Amanda was happy to see her next-door neighbor Melanie Driscoll come out of her apartment as Amanda was leaving and locking up. Mel spent a lot of time at her fiancé’s ranch, so Amanda didn’t get to see her dear friend as often as she used to. As usual lately, Amanda’s gaze went right to Mel’s gorgeous diamond engagement ring.
What did that mean? Amanda used to be drawn to the ring kind of wistfully, as in, That’ll never happen for me because I’ve taken myself out of the game. Now, the ring seemed to say something else to her. I symbolize love and commitment and those things really do exist.
Maybe Amanda was changing? Just a little? She hoped so. Being closed and guarded didn’t feel great.
Amanda smiled at her friend, who looked beautiful as always. Mel’s long blond hair was loose past her shoulders, and she wore the cutest outfit. Amanda glanced at her own outfit, which was professional meets superdull. She loved the way Mel and Brittany dressed with style and flair, but Amanda had always been a more fade-into-the-woodwork type. Maybe she’d ask Mel and Brittany to go shopping with her and let them suggest some upgrades to her ho-hum look.
The funny thing—and funny strange, not funny ha-ha—was that Holt seemed to find her sexy just as she was. He had ten years ago, too, which had shocked not only her but all the girls at camp. Amanda of the ponytail, no makeup, baggy T-shirts, and nose in a book had somehow stolen the attention of the cutest guy in camp. Once, when a girl asked Holt what he saw in her—Amanda had happened to be in eavesdropping distance but not visible—she’d heard Holt respond, I see everything in Amanda—everything beautiful and everything that matters. The girl had swooned. Amanda had burst into tears, unable to believe that someone, someone she’d fallen so hard for, had said something like that about her. She’d wanted to call her mom and tell her, but her mother wasn’t the kind you shared stuff like that with. Amanda had held it close to her heart until he’d dumped her, when she’d stopped believing in anything Holt had said to her.
A few weeks into camp, Amanda had made a close girlfriend, another counselor who also had a boyfriend she was nuts about, and the two girls had told each everything. Daniella had always been there for her over the years, and though she now lived in Alaska, Amanda would always feel close to her faraway friend. In fact, Daniella had paved the way for Amanda to open up to new girlfriends, and she’d easily become close to Brittany in college and then Mel when she moved next door. She trusted in girlfriends. Not so much boyfriends.
“Hi, Mel. I’ve been meaning to update you on my online search for Beatrix. So far, no leads on the one site I posted to—adoptees looking for information—but last night I posted on two other sites. I’m so hopeful.”
“Me too,” Mel said. “I want to find Beatrix so badly.”
“You’ll find her. I truly believe that.”
Her own words shocked her. Maybe instead of being so cynical, she was becoming more open to possibilities. She hoped so. She certainly wasn’t looking to get hurt again, but her wise roommate’s words kept coming back to her. Keep an open mind—even just a smidge open.
Did she dare do that when she was entering a race called the Mother-Son Fun Run with Holt’s child? She already felt close to Robby Dalton. Being involved in something like this, given Robby’s particular situation, pulled her in even more. She’d love to have a little boy just like Robby. But the thought of giving Holt another chance felt...scary. Truly scary. To allow herself to be that vulnerable, and then to be left heartbroken and alone... She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t do it. She had a plan for a Robby of her own. She was researching, investigating, figuring out.
Amanda and Mel headed out into the perfect August Montana morning together, chatting about the search for Beatrix, then went their separate ways. Amanda couldn’t stop thinking about Josiah Abernathy and Winona Cobbs during the short walk to the coffee shop, where she picked up an iced mocha latte to fortify herself for her presentation to a potential new client. Somewhere out there, a seventy-five-year-old woman may have been wondering about her birth parents all these years. That was if Beatrix even knew she’d been adopted at birth.
Amanda had so many questions. Had Josiah kept tabs on his baby girl from afar? He’d known where she was. Now, with Josiah suffering from Alzheimer’s, he was unable to provide any answers about the past. It was up to Mel and the great search.
An hour later, after Amanda’s meeting with the school district’s superintendent about potentially taking on their social media needs, she stopped back in the coffee shop with her laptop to type up her notes and to work on a few other current campaigns. One thing she loved about her job was that she could do it anywhere. Such as while drinking a sweet iced tea and nibbling on a white chocolate and raspberry scone.
“CJ Donville is supercute,” a voice whispered from the table beside her. “And omigosh, did you see that blond guy with the serious muscles at the health club last night? Hot!”
Amanda smiled to herself. She loved girl talk—even just listening. She’d noticed the two women, neither of whom she’d recognized, when she’d sat down. Both were in their midtwenties, one blond with great bangs, the other auburn-haired with killer eyebrows.
“I have my eye on a few Dalton brothers,” the redhead said.
Amanda almost spit out her iced tea. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be hearing this.
The blonde nodded. “Five gorgeous brothers! Holt is so hot, but forget him. And Morgan—ooh la la. Ridiculously sexy. You should go for him.”
Forget Holt? Why? Because he was involved with someone, namely Amanda? No one would know that, though. But they had been spending time together around town—Bronco’s Brick Oven Pizza just last night. Maybe people thought they were a couple.
No, other women didn’t look at Amanda and think the hottest guy in town would go for her.
The redhead shook her head and bit into her bagel. “Do you know Cheyenne, the junior Realtor at Bronco Properties? Tall, thin, huge chest, gorgeous? She has guys chasing her left and right. She asked Morgan out after running into him in the grocery store and he turned her down, made some excuse. So trust me, Morgan’s no better.”
No better? What did that mean?
“Yeah, neither of them seems to be interested in anyone right now,” the blonde said, then sipped her drink. “I thought Holt stopped dating because no one could deal with his hyper kid.”
Amanda narrowed her eyes. Hyper? How dare she refer to Robby in an unkind manner! Kids were off-limits—worldwide rule.
“No, I heard he’s seeing someone,” the friend said.
Amanda had no doubt that someone was her. Might not be true, but she did like the idea of Holt being off the market. And clearly there was quite a market.
The blonde smirked. “Like that’ll last. My cousin Lulu dated Holt last year when he first moved to town. He’s gorgeous and a total gentleman, but he’s a package deal and his kid’s a nightmare. Never stops talking and has to be the center of attention. Holt told Lulu his son has to be his priority, not dating.”
Amanda wanted to take her iced tea and dump it over the woman’s head, then crumble the scone on top. What gossips! How dare they!
“Well, shouldn’t his child have priority over his love life?” the redhead asked. “I think that’s a good thing.”
“I guess. He told Lulu he’s looking for a mother for his son. She heard that and ran for the hills. Holt is seriously hot, but she knew she’d turn into the babysitter real quick and have the life sucked out of her. No thanks. No one needs a brat aging them ten years in a month! Who could afford that kind of Botox upkeep?”
The women laughed and clinked to that with a double amen.
Steam coming out of her ears, despite the air-conditioning in the coffee shop, Amanda packed up her laptop, stuffed her half-eaten scone into its little bag and into her tote and grabbed her tea. She stood up and turned to the women. “You’re talking about a seven-year-old boy. And before you tell me to mind my own business, maybe consider that when you gossip about people in a coffee shop, you never know who’s sitting next to you.”
Both women’s mouths dropped open. Amanda stalked out, fury climbing up her spine.
She was halfway down the block before it occurred to her that the old Amanda—Amanda of even a week ago—would never have spoken up like that. She would have been too shy and instead would have spent all night tossing and turning and thinking of comebacks she wished she could have been confident enough to hurl back at those hyenas in lip gloss.
You are changing, she realized, a smile forming on her lips.
Her phone pinged with a text. It was from Holt, and the way her heart leaped made her doubly sure she was changing, that she was letting him in. If just a smidge.
Robby woke up asking if it was all a dream, that he would get to be in the Mother-Son Fun Run with you. I assured him it was real. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
He’d added the emoji of a smiley face wearing a cowboy hat.
Amanda brought her hand to her heart, so touched she almost cried.
She was in deep trouble.
Holt had checked Brody Colter’s schedule for the morning. The cowboy was on herding duty till eleven, then would be meeting the shipment of feed at eleven thirty. Holt planned to catch him right after the truck left. The two could stack the heavy bags—and talk.
Right on time, Holt saw the young hand loping his way to the barn, a metal water bottle in his hand. Neal Dalton had commented on Brody’s good posture when he’d signed off on hiring him; his dad took that as a sign of something good. Holt watched the tall, lanky blonde swish his mop of bangs out of the way, then take a long drink and stuff the bottle in his backpack and grab a cereal bar, which he’d finished by the time the truck pulled in. Holt nodded at Brody and helped unload the truck, which seemed to surprise the cowboy. The Dalton guys didn’t usually do the gruntiest of grunt labor.
“Brody, I’m gonna just come out with this,” Holt said, grabbing a huge feed sack from the stack.
The guy whirled to him, alarm on his face. “I do something wrong?”
“I had a visit last night from Edward Thompson.”
Brody’s face fell and he let out a breath.
“He wants me to convince you to break up with his daughter for her own good,” Holt said. “If not, he won’t make his usual big donation to the ranchers’ association and he’ll blame Dalton’s Grange for that.”
Brody lifted his chin, squinting under the brim of his cowboy hat. “I’m not breaking up with Piper. She’s stood up to her father ever since he found out about us. She was strong enough to do that, there’s no way I’ll let her down by walking away.”
Good for you, kid, Holt thought. “You’d lose your job over Piper?” He headed into the barn and laid the bag of feed on the big pallet.
“You’d fire me?” Brody shot back, following him with another bag of feed.
The kid had conviction and Holt liked him. He also had a feeling Brody knew Holt wouldn’t fire him. Dalton’s Grange had a good reputation in town, despite the family only being in Bronco a year. The Daltons were known for being honest, even if some of the snobbier types in Bronco Heights referred to them as “new money.” Holt had never understood why that was an insult; it meant someone came from nothing and made something of themselves. Granted, Neal Dalton had done that at the casino, but he was putting his blood, sweat and tears, and everything he was, into the ranch. Holt had learned long ago that it was what you did with your opportunities that counted.
Holt had thrown an opportunity named Amanda right out the window, hadn’t he? He hadn’t seen the situation with the same eyes he did now. If he had, he might have viewed his relationship with Amanda as a partnership, been honest with her, gotten her take on things. Instead, he’d basically lied about who he was and then made decisions for them. At least he could say he was young then. Now, he wouldn’t squander an opportunity he knew was a good thing.
“Touché, Brody,” he said as they headed back to the stack outside. “And no, I won’t fire you. I don’t like threats or ultimatums. You work for Dalton’s Grange and that makes us Team Brody. We’ve got your back.”
The cowboy’s face broke into relief. “Really?”
Holt hefted another bag. “Yeah, really. Sounds like you really care about this young woman.”
Brody nodded and grabbed a bag, balancing it over his shoulder. “I love her more than anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Piper makes me want to be better in every aspect of my life, you know?”
He did know. That was how he’d felt about Amanda ten years ago.
Brody was quiet for a minute as they finished getting the bags of feed into the barn.
“But her father thinks I’m a loser from the wrong side of the tracks,” Brody continued, taking off his hat and using a bandanna from his pocket to wipe his forehead. “And I know that for a fact because I overheard him say so after I dropped her off at home one night. He kept asking Piper what she could possibly see in a ranch hand who smelled like cattle and was going nowhere in life.”
Holt shook his head. “He’s got you figured out at eighteen? Please.”
Brody brightened some, clearly appreciating that Holt was on his side.
“A long time ago I once dated a girl from another world,” Holt said. “I never felt like I had anything to offer her and that was wrong. I broke up with her because I thought she deserved better. I had no faith in myself at all. I’m glad you do, Brody.”
“I don’t know where it comes from. My mom died two years ago, and the day before my eighteenth birthday almost a year ago now, my father told me he was taking off with his girlfriend in her RV and they had no idea where they’d end up. It’s why I live in that tiny one-room hovel above Wild Wesley’s. I work there part-time, sweeping and mopping and loading the dishwashers.”
So he didn’t hang out in dive bars, like Edward Thompson had said. He worked there when he already had a full-time job on the ranch.
“That fight you got in—the one I bailed you out of jail for,” Holt said. “You got caught in the middle of something?”
“I was bussing a table and some jerk said something really sexist to a waitress, so I told him that he was rude and he slugged me but missed, but then came after me. He was so drunk he kept missing, but I hit him once to get him off me and he called the cops.”
Holt doubted Thompson would care about the details. “If you need more hours, Brody, I can take care of that. You can stay an extra hour every day or work a few on the weekends—whatever you want.”
“Really?” Brody asked, brightening again. “That’d be great. It would probably help with Piper’s dad if I didn’t work there anymore. She told him I had two jobs because I’m hardworking and want to build a nest egg to buy my own small ranch, and I heard him laugh and say a guy like me will never get past minimum wage and we were both kidding ourselves.”
Edward Thompson was a real jerk.
Holt shook his head. “I have no doubt you’ll achieve your dreams, Brody. That’s what goals and hard work are about.”
“Hope so,” Brody said.
“Thompson said Piper’s been saying she might not go to college after all. That seems to be what has him all riled up.”
Brody looked off at the mountains for a second, then turned back to Holt. “She’s afraid the distance will come between us, but I keep telling her we’re too solid for anything to get in our way. I think she should go to college and that I should join the army—like my dad and uncle did after high school. My goal has always been to have my own ranch one day, but I like the idea of serving my country too. Piper can go to school for four years like she planned and I’ll serve. Then we’ll get married and start our lives together.”
That also sounded solid to Holt. But Brody was biting his lip and looking away.
“Except?” Holt prompted.
“Except Piper doesn’t want me going away for four years. She suggested I follow her to college and get a live-in job on a ranch nearby, but there aren’t many ranches out there. She thinks we should buy a piece of land and start our own small homestead with like ten head of cattle and some sheep and chickens. She wants to make her own cheese and yogurt.”
Holt smiled. “And what do you think of that idea?”
“I think it sounds like a fairy tale. Piper’s the best, but she grew up in a fancy house in Bronco Heights and hasn’t had to make milk or cheese to sell in order to have money for the power bill or groceries.” His shoulders sagged. “Before I started working at the bar, I didn’t have much left after paying my bills and ate those foam cups of noodle soup for a few days. Piper doesn’t know what that’s like and I don’t want her to.”
Holt nodded. “I think your idea of Piper going to school and you into the service is a great one, Brody. That’ll let you both grow up some. You can remain committed as a couple. That’s up to you two.”
“That’s what I think too. I just have to make her see it’s the best plan for both of us. She seems to think I’m trying to end things. I just want her to have everything. And throwing away college and pissing off her dad isn’t having everything.”
“You’re smart and focused, Brody. And it’s admirable that you want her to stay on good terms with her dad. You two just need to get on the same page about where to go from here.”
“What if we can’t agree?”
Holt thought about that for a second. “Well, you know one thing for sure—you want to be together. Just keep that as the baseline. Whatever you do, make sure all roads lead to that.”
“Mr. Thompson wants me out of Piper’s life altogether. I hate coming between her and her father.”
Holt really felt for Brody. He was in a tough situation and basically alone.
“Brody, help me for a sec,” another ranch hand called.
“Coming,” Brody said to him.
“Sorry to get mixed up in your business,” Holt said. “Just know if you need to talk to someone, I’m here for you. And I mean it about the extra hours.”
Brody smiled. “Thanks,” he said, and walked toward the other cowboy, shoulders down, pressed by a weight that shouldn’t be there.
Holt knew Edward Thompson was going to try to get his way here, and that things were going to get ugly. For who, exactly, in the end, Holt wasn’t sure.
What was certain was that Brody was going to put Piper first. Holt had always thought that was what he was doing when he left Amanda a decade ago, but now he realized the opposite was true.
He hadn’t been one-tenth the man Brody was now. Holt hadn’t been putting Amanda first at all; he’d been afraid she’d discover who he really was out of that magical camp setting and everything would come falling down on his head. He’d believed who he really was wouldn’t measure up and so he’d walked away. To save himself—not her.
He understood that now. And these few past days he thought he just needed to prove to Amanda that he’d changed. But had he changed?
The past ten years he hadn’t been successful at anything. Yeah, he had a kid he loved. But Holt was a father who’d been told his son wasn’t welcome back at camp because of his behavior. And Holt was a son who’d never figured out how to have a relationship with his father—and that relationship was now at an all-time low. And workwise? Here he was, working for someone else. His family, though, and he did like that more than he’d ever realized. Still, he’d never started his own ranch, which had once been his dream. He hadn’t made anything of himself in all these years. Not at home or at work or in love.
He was trying for a second chance with Amanda? Damn, maybe he should back the hell off. In fact, he’d do just that.
This time around he was going to put Amanda Jenkins first.