She can save his ranch...

But can he forgive her?

Maya Burton knows she’s the last person rancher Caleb Dunne wants to see. After all, she survived the crash that killed his sister, and then left town. Now she has to convince the stubborn cowboy that she can help him save his ranch. But once she earns his trust—and his heart—will she be able to walk away?

CLAIRE MCEWEN writes stories about strong heroes and heroines who take big emotional journeys to find their happily-ever-afters. She lives by the ocean in Northern California with her family and a scruffy, mischievous terrier. When she’s not writing, Claire enjoys gardening, reading and discovering flea-market treasures. She loves to hear from readers! You can find her on most social media and at clairemcewen.com.

Also By Claire McEwen

A Ranch to Keep

More Than a Rancher

Convincing the Rancher

Wild Horses

Return to Marker Ranch

Home Free

His Last Rodeo

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Reunited with the Cowboy

Claire McEwen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09742-0

REUNITED WITH THE COWBOY

© 2019 Claire Haiken

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“Why do I feel like we’re leaving for a date?”

Caleb laughed. “And your friends are the parents telling you to get home by ten?”

“Something like that. But I doubt they’ll ground me if I stay out after curfew.”

“That’s good to know.” His deep voice rippled over her skin, leaving warmth behind.

When they reached the makeshift dance floor and he pulled her in to move to the slow song the band was playing, Maya really did feel like it was a first date—butterflies, goose bumps and all.

For a moment Maya closed her eyes, breathing in Caleb’s salty, soapy scent, the heat that seemed to roll off him in waves. The way that heat seemed to permeate her and make her want him close like this, every day of her life.

His arms were so thick and strong around her back. What would it be like to finally give in?

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Shelter Creek!

Nestled in the rolling hills of Northern California, just inland from the Pacific Ocean, Shelter Creek is a quaint ranching town where locals care deeply about each other, their traditions and the land around them.

But sometimes even the most beautiful place doesn’t feel like home anymore. That’s how Caleb Dunne feels. He’s spent over a decade serving in the Marine Corps, and now he’s desperately trying to save his family ranch from debt and ruin.

Shelter Creek isn’t home for Maya Burton anymore, either. She left town right after high school, when a terrible tragedy destroyed the love she and Caleb shared. Now she’s a wildlife biologist, back in Shelter Creek to spend time with her grandmother and help ranchers like Caleb protect their livestock from predators. Only, sometimes the ranchers don’t really want her help!

I loved writing this emotional, complicated story. Maya and Caleb are strong and tough and used to taking care of themselves. Yet with the help of Maya’s grandmother, her Book Biddies book club, and a few other human and animal friends, Maya and Caleb learn to lean on others just a little more. In the process, they finally face their past and heal the hurt between them.

I hope you enjoy Reunited with the Cowboy. It’s the first book in my new series, Heroes of Shelter Creek. If you’d like to keep up with what I’m writing next, or just say hello, please look for me on the web at clairemcewen.com. I always love hearing from readers!

Claire McEwen

This book is dedicated to my father.

He wouldn’t have enjoyed the romance much,

but I think he would have liked the cowboys.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

MAYA BURTON HAD always loved being alone in the wilderness. But after three hours of climbing through steep, dense, shadowy forest, it occurred to her that this nighttime hike through mountain lion territory might dim that love, just a bit.

It had felt like a good idea, back in Shelter Creek. The odds of meeting a mountain lion on the trail were low, and facing a lion seemed a lot less scary than facing the memories waiting in her hometown.

But Maya had forgotten that forests in this part of California were full of oak and bay trees that sent their branches arching right over the trail. And mountain lions loved to hang out on branches. Shining her flashlight to make sure she was safe still didn’t ease the prickly feeling on the back of her neck as she passed underneath.

When she finally reached the edge of the forest, stepping out onto the wide-open ridgetop was sheer relief. She loved studying mountain lions, but she was glad to be in a place where they couldn’t drop on her from above. Maya took in the full moon beaming in the sky, tinting the grassy meadows and scrubby slopes with silver. So much moonlight, she could put her flashlight away.

They were out here too though. Mountain lions, pumas, cougars, catamounts, ghost cats, panthers...maybe the big cats had so many names because they were so mysterious. Able to exist alongside people without anyone realizing they were even there.

Except lately the mountain lions in this area had been attacking livestock on local ranches. And people definitely noticed that.

That was why Maya was here, in the coastal hills surrounding her hometown of Shelter Creek, on a two-month assignment for the Department of Wildlife. She was going to try to find pumas. Photograph them. Count and classify them. Assess the population’s overall health and figure out why they were eating so many sheep.

But she’d rather not meet any big cats out here in the dark. “Okay, pumas,” she said to the shadowed spaces just past the moonlight. “If you’re out there, beat it. I’m coming into your territory and you are not allowed to bother me.”

She was being silly. Most big predators would prefer not to run into any humans. Usually people were a meal they didn’t have much appetite for, though once in a while...

Ugh. Don’t think about that.

What was wrong with her tonight? Maya spent weeks at a time living in remote wilderness, studying predators. She rarely worried about being attacked. But tonight she was nervous. Maybe because she was used to the Rocky Mountains, and the way mountain lions behaved when they lived in truly wild places.

Here in Northern California, the mountain lions’ habitat was broken up by ranches, towns, cities, roads, wineries and farms. Pumas with limited territory were less predictable and less afraid of people, and this knowledge made every rustle of grass blown by the breeze off the Pacific travel straight up Maya’s spine.

Or maybe she was jittery because this afternoon she’d come home for the first time in thirteen years. And promptly had a huge panic attack. That was enough to make a gal nervous. To make her decide that it would be better to jump straight into work than to sit in her grandmother’s house, bombarded by memories of the accident that had changed her life forever.

The night she’d lost control of her car and her boyfriend’s sister had been killed.

It had all come flooding back today, as Maya drove past the vintage clapboard buildings and flower-filled yards of Shelter Creek’s Main Street. Each memory was etched with vivid clarity, a high-definition slide in a tragic slideshow. The click of Julie’s seat belt as she freed herself in the back seat. Her drunken refusal when Maya told her to put it back on. Her final words, “No one wants to hear Nirvana,” as she flopped into the front seat to change the music. Her shriek of startled laughter as she lost her balance and fell onto Maya. Her weight, her flailing limbs knocking Maya’s hands off the steering wheel, blocking her view of the road ahead.

Memories of panic. Of slamming on the brakes, hitting them too hard, sending them into a skid. And one final image, the single strobe-like flash of trees looming in the headlights.

Pulled over by the side of the road today, bracing her weight on the old sign that read Welcome to Shelter Creek, Maya had gasped for breath and tried to remember what a long-ago therapist had taught her about panic attacks.

Notice what’s real. Notice what’s around you.

Maya had tried to focus on the bumpy gravel beneath her sneakers. The warm, dry air of the summer afternoon. The oily, metallic smell of her truck engine, hot after three days of driving west from her home in Boulder, Colorado. The scolding shriek of a Steller’s jay in a nearby tree.

She’d calmed herself down, but she was desperate to be alone. To have quiet. She was falling apart, and wilderness, solitude and work were the glue that could put her back together.

Luckily Grandma understood. When she’d opened her front door and found her granddaughter sitting on her front porch, stuffing scientific equipment into her backpack, she’d just given Maya a giant hug and gone to pack her some food. Grandma had accepted Maya’s quirks a long time ago.

Maya scanned the moonlit landscape one more time. No critters that she could see, though surely there were all kinds of nocturnal animals roaming these fields. “Ready or not, here I come!” she called, just to make some more noise, and started out across the ridgetop, trying to relax and finally enjoy the night.

At least being home gave her a chance to walk this trail again. She’d hiked these hills every chance she’d had when she was young. Peaceful, wild places had always called to her. Maybe because her early childhood had been filled with so much chaos before she’d come to live with Grandma in Shelter Creek. Maybe because, in wild places, things were simple. One foot in front of the other. Look, listen, think. Alone in the wilderness, other peoples’ decisions, their random acts of craziness, couldn’t affect you. Couldn’t turn your entire life upside down in an instant.

Maya shook her head, trying to shake off the memories, the feelings. Think about science, think about pumas, think about this trail and what you remember about it. At the other end of this meadow, there was a steep hill, thick with shrubs. It was the perfect place for pumas to hide while they waited for their favorite food, mule deer, to leave the safety of their thickets and venture out to graze.

That interface between shrubby hill and open grassland was where she’d set up the first motion-sensitive camera.

Hopefully she’d get a few cameras up and running tonight. They’d feed into her computer and give her a sense of the wildlife in the area. No one had surveyed these rugged hills for mountain lions in years. This would be one step toward figuring out how many of the big cats were living around here.

A swishing sound sent Maya’s pulse racing. She glanced over her shoulder. Not a lion. Just the shadowy shape of an owl, launching from the trees behind her. It soared out over the ridge and circled, eerily silent. Maya pulled in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the soothing scents of coyote brush and sage. The smell was pure memory, each inhalation bittersweet.

For so long she assumed she’d never breathe this air again. When she’d bought a one-way bus ticket to college, and what she’d prayed would be a fresh start, Maya swore she’d never look back.

But last month, when her boss at the Department of Wildlife in Boulder had mentioned this job, a short-term attempt to reduce mountain lion attacks on livestock in the area, it had felt almost serendipitous.

Maya was in a lull between research projects, and she’d been worried about her grandmother, who still lived in Shelter Creek. This past year Grandma Lillian had stopped coming out to Colorado to visit Maya, saying she was tired of traveling. She’d even stayed home for Christmas and skipped their annual spring break adventure.

Clearly Grandma was slowing down. This job could be Maya’s chance to check on her, to make sure she was still able to live on her own and care for herself.

And maybe it was time to do what her grandmother had been telling her she needed to do for years. To finally face the memories that waited for her in Shelter Creek.

That part hadn’t gone so well, so far. Maya would have to be stronger, or she’d never survive the next two months.

The terrain around the trail was changing. The brush was thicker here, providing good cover for various animals. She’d catch coyotes on her cameras for sure. She’d heard a few of them yipping and yowling in the woods about a mile back. She’d probably see plenty of skunks, raccoons and foxes on the feed too. And with good camera placement and a lot of luck, she might get footage of mountain lions.

A sharp sound cut through her thoughts. Maya froze, heart hammering, listening so hard that the silence felt loud. The sound was gone now. But there had been something. The crack of a stick underfoot. Something.

Another noise—closer this time. A rustling in the bushes. Whatever it was, it was big. Normally a mountain lion wouldn’t be this noisy, but what else could it be? Stray cattle, maybe?

The crisp snap of a branch shattered her fragile composure. Maya whirled to face the threat. A shadow loomed up from the brush. With a shriek, Maya leaped back and stumbled on the raised grass that edged the trail. Arms flailing, feet staggering, she fought for balance as her backpack pulled her down.

Oomph. Air shot from her lungs as she hit the dirt hard. She lay on her back like a stranded turtle, arms and legs useless as her pack held her down.

Clawing her way out of the confining straps, Maya jumped to her feet, groped for her safety whistle and blew hard. The shrill sound sliced open the night.

Pepper spray. It was in her belt. Wrenching it from the holster, Maya held out the can and slowly backed away from the dark shadow emerging from the bushes.

“Hang on! It’s okay!”

The unexpected voice stopped her in an instant. It wasn’t a mountain lion. It was a man.

“Who are you?” Her voice quavered, weak and thin. But she couldn’t be weak here, alone on a trail. She drew herself up to her full five-foot-one frame and gripped her pepper spray a little tighter, her pulse pounding in her ears.

The man stepped slowly onto the trail from some low bushes, where he must have been hiding. In the dim moonlight he was a dark shadow. Maya could see the outline of his cowboy hat, but not much else about him. Except in one hand, he held...a rifle.

Maya froze—the gun changing everything.

“It’s okay.” The man’s voice was low and steady, like he was trying to be reassuring. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Maya’s heart wouldn’t slow. Her breath wouldn’t fill her lungs. She needed to calm down, to get back in control.

But it was a strange man. With a gun. On a hiking trail. At night.

This wasn’t good. Worse than a lion. Her thoughts sped, frantic. This trail wasn’t that far from the highway. Was he some kind of homeless wanderer? A serial killer?

She had to get a grip. She’d spent her entire adult life in the wilderness. Had never met a problem she couldn’t handle. But that wilderness had been remote and isolated. Not like this area, so close to cities and towns. And people.

She tried to put authority in her shaking tone. “I’m with the Department of Wildlife. Lower your weapon.”

He lowered it to his side and pointed it toward the ground.

“Is it loaded?”

“Yes.”

Maya’s blood chilled when she heard the safety click. He’d been ready to shoot. Could so easily have ended her life with just a twitch of a finger. The knowledge rippled down her spine, and one of her knees started shaking like it had a mind of its own.

The man spoke quietly. “Did you get hurt when you fell? Do you want some light?”

Her flashlight. She should have reached for it right away. Maya grabbed it now and directed its beam straight at his face.

“Hey!” He tilted his head down and brought a forearm across his eyes. “Can you shine that somewhere else?”

“Not until you put the gun on the ground.” She shoved every ounce of confidence she’d ever felt into her voice.

“Not easy to do when you’re blinding me.”

“Just put it down.” Her heart was going to pound right through her ribs if he didn’t get rid of that gun.

“Okay! Hang on.” He walked a few steps backward and slowly bent to set the gun on the ground. As he straightened, he tilted his hat back and looked right at her, squinting to protect his eyes. “Can you move the light now?”

She couldn’t move the light. Didn’t know if she’d ever move anything again, because now she could see his face, and it was Caleb. Caleb Dunne.

A metallic taste coated her tongue, and she swallowed hard. Both of her knees were shaking now, and the flashlight beam quivered with her trembling hand as if her entire body was rebelling at the sight of him. Rebelling against this homecoming, which was already turning into the disaster she’d always assumed it would be.

She had to lower the light. It was wrong to keep blinding him. But if she lowered it, he’d realize who she was. And Maya already knew what his reaction would be. Rage. Disgust. Horror. Because she was the last person Caleb would want to meet on this trail, or anywhere else.

Still, they couldn’t stay like this forever. Maya forced her hand down, every millimeter of motion triggering an exponential increase in dread. She had no hat brim to hide under, and the moon was rising higher, the pearly light bathing them. As the beam reached the ground, she heard Caleb’s sharp gasp of recognition. He took a stiff step forward. Then another.

“Maya?” His voice was hollow, as if just the sight of her gutted him.

There was nothing she could do but stand there while he stared, his dark eyes burning into her, branding her a murderer. The name he’d called her the last time she’d seen him, so many years ago.

There was nowhere to run this time, no bus to catch, no remote Colorado wilderness to hide in, as she’d done for almost a decade now. A strange, slow feeling seeped through her, resignation so strong, it was almost relief, easing the turmoil in her mind, allowing her to move a step or two toward him. This meeting she’d feared and dreaded for so long was right here upon her, and there was nothing she could do but accept whatever came next.

“Yes,” she said softly. “It’s me. Maya. I’m home.”

* * *

FOR A SPLIT SECOND Caleb wondered if Maya was actually real. Still as prey, with moonlight painting shadows around her eyes, she was almost ghostlike. Fitting, since she’d haunted him for all these years.

His hands had become fists, and he carefully unclenched them, trying to fathom her presence on this trail. “Why are you here?” It came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Work.” She twisted the light nervously in her hands, casting wild shapes across the ground between them. “And to see my grandmother. Why are you here?”

He heard the question, knew he should answer, but it was Maya, standing right here in front of him, and his words were boulders lodged in his throat. Caleb swallowed hard and tried to take her in. He’d never thought he’d see her again.

A thought skittered around his mind like a panicked rabbit. He’d almost shot her. If it had been a darker night, if she hadn’t fallen and let out that yelp, if he’d been a different rancher, less patient and more trigger-happy... There were so many scenarios in which he could have shot her. If he had, he’d be standing over her bleeding, broken body right now.

The image sent the night reeling, the moon spinning, his heart pounding through his veins. He’d wanted that mountain lion, had been looking so hard for it that a part of his brain had assumed that was exactly what she was. Fear blazed into anger. “You’re crazy, walking out here on your own.”

Her shrug dismissed his worry like it meant nothing. “I’ve spent most of my adult life outside, on my own.”

She reminded him of how little he knew her now. And how well he once had.

“I could have shot you,” he blurted out, not in control, not able to decide which of the words, dislodged now and tumbling through his head in a landslide, he should actually say out loud.

He could hear the shaky breath she drew. “Do you wish you had?”

“What?” Aghast, he took a step closer. “No. Never. I’m not a murderer.”

As soon as he’d spoken the word, he froze. Murderer. He’d called Maya that the last time he’d seen her. He’d been called that himself, a few times since. And the irony wasn’t lost on him. She hadn’t been a murderer, hadn’t even been guilty. But he probably was.

Of course the military shrink had told him different. But Caleb had made mistakes in Afghanistan that he couldn’t forgive. He’d hoped to leave them behind now that he was home for good, but he hadn’t known then that regret had no borders. How things you put aside in the daytime ran rampant in your mind at night. Another reason he was out on the trail tonight. It was easier out here, hunting, protecting his livestock, than tossing and turning, desperate for sleep, even while dreading the dreams that sleep might bring.

“I don’t wish you harm, Maya.”

She huffed out a shaky laugh. “Well, seeing as we’re alone out here, and you have a gun, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m after a mountain lion. It’s been killing my sheep.”

She stilled then—nothing he could see, but something he could sense.

“Really?” She gave a strange little hollow laugh. “Well, isn’t that just perfect?”

Her sarcasm baffled him. Then he remembered what she’d said moments before. That she was with the Department of Wildlife.

“I have a permit. A depredation permit. To kill the lion.”

“I’ll need to see it.”

It was like looking into a twisted carnival mirror, where nothing was as it seemed. Maya, on a trail near his ranch, in the middle of the night. Maya, suddenly sounding official and asking for his paperwork. Which, of course, he didn’t have with him.

Not for the first time, Caleb wished he’d reenlisted. Just stayed in the Marine Corps forever and never come back to Shelter Creek. Home, ranching...it was supposed to be simple. But every day brought a new complication. “I left the permit back at the ranch.”

She sighed as if she couldn’t believe his incompetence. “Okay. Well, please don’t shoot anything until I’ve seen that permit.”

It was sinking in now, this bizarre situation they were in. “Let me get this straight. You’re in charge of permits? I have to answer to you if I need to shoot a mountain lion?”

“I’m the temporary field biologist for this area, in charge of wildlife management, among other things. So, yes, you’ll need to clear the use of that permit with me.”

Her words filtered through his denial. “You can’t be serious.”

She sounded resigned. “I’m afraid I am.”

“I never thought I’d see you again.” The words tumbled out, rough and raw. He’d loved her. So damn much.

A pained smile twisted the corner of her mouth. “Don’t worry. Once I know for sure that my grandmother is doing well, I’ll leave. This job is just a temporary position for the summer.”

It was probably rude to feel so much relief. She had every right to be here, and if her grandmother needed her, then she should be here. But it didn’t mean he wanted Maya anywhere near him. All they could do for each other was bring up old hurt and brutal memories. And feelings. So many damn feelings that his throat burned with them, like they wanted to be shared, needed to be shared. But how could he? It was all so long ago. The damage he’d done had solidified into concrete. Had become the foundation on which they’d both built new lives.

He wanted to go, to retreat, to put at least a few miles between them. He took the first steps away. “Well, good luck with your grandmother. And the job.”

“I’ll need it.” Her mouth hinted at a wry smile. “Especially because Grandma is as stubborn as ever. And because I have to try to help ranchers like you with predator management.”

He couldn’t work with her. “I don’t need any help. A mountain lion killed my sheep. I have the right to shoot it. End of story.”

Maya made no sign that his tone bothered her; instead her voice remained steady and calm, like nothing about this meeting or this conflict shook her. “There are new regulations in place. You have to try to manage predators without harming them. Shooting is a last resort now.”

Worry settled cold in Caleb’s stomach. He couldn’t afford to lose one more animal. “What do I have to do?”

“Well, it depends on what you’re already doing. We can talk more about it when I visit your ranch.”

“Visit my ranch?” Caleb ran a hand over the film of sweat that was coating the back of his neck despite the chill night. Maya on his ranch. Maya seeing how run-down and ruined it was, how low he’d ended up. “Why do you need to visit my ranch?”

“To see where attacks have occurred. And to figure out how we can prevent any more of them.”

We? There could be no we here. “What do you know about ranching?” He was being rude, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want a visit. Didn’t want help. Didn’t want anything to do with her. Already he felt the pull, like she emitted some kind of memory-inducing pheromone that allowed him to see their past so clearly. Maya laughing by the swimming hole, water droplets clinging to her tanned skin. Maya riding these hills, next to him, reaching her hand out for his. Each image crystal clear, each memory so good.

Until it had all gone so bad.

She was silent for a moment, as if gathering up her next arguments. She’d always been stubborn, and it seemed like that hadn’t changed.

“Look, Caleb. We both know I’m not a rancher. But I know a lot about wildlife management and predator-prey relationships. So I’ll probably have some useful advice.”

He caught the edge of frustration in her voice. He was being a jerk, but maybe that was okay if it would help keep her from coming out to his property. He didn’t want time with her. Didn’t want to face everything he’d lost when he’d told her to leave. “We shouldn’t even be around each other.”

“Trust me—I was hoping to avoid you. But here we are.” She gestured around them, at the trail, at the night, in a sort of helpless way. Like their meeting was a fate she didn’t want but had already accepted.

Caleb didn’t want to accept it. Because he was already torn, wanting her to stay away and wanting to see her again. Because she was Maya and no one had ever made him feel the way she had. Even now, here, arguing, he felt some part of himself wake up, like it had been sleeping all these years, dormant. Waiting.

Maya reached for her pack and swung it up onto her back in an effortless motion. Though how someone so tiny could carry that much gear was beyond him.

“I’m going to be hiking out here for the next couple of days. I’ll stop by your ranch later in the week to talk about your options. How about Thursday?”

“Thursday,” he repeated stupidly. Because the whole idea that he and Maya were standing on this trail, in the middle of the night, making plans, was surreal. He didn’t want plans, didn’t want her help, and he opened his mouth to tell her, but she was already talking.

“Until then try not to shoot any lions. If you need to scare them off, blow a whistle. Bang a few pots and pans. Spray water. Get creative.”

Before he could answer, she gave a little wave, like they’d just run into each other on the street or something. Then she walked off into the darkness as if it was perfectly normal for her to head out into wild places, by herself, at night.

Maybe it was. He didn’t know her anymore. Not at all.

Caleb listened to her footsteps until they faded to nothing and she became just another part of the ghostly moonlight. Like she hadn’t been real. Like she’d never been here at all.

Except she was real. And when she showed up at his ranch, there’d be no hiding the mess there. She’d see it all. The leaning fences, the overgrown fields, the ruined barns, the neglected house. The visible evidence that his family had shattered beyond repair, on the night Maya drove into a tree and killed his sister.

CHAPTER TWO

CALEB THREW A dollar tip on the bar and took a gulp of his second beer. Dex’s Alehouse was busy for a Tuesday night. The usual customers crowded around the beat-up dartboards and pool tables. Ranch hands, workers from the vineyards, mechanics and store clerks—the regular folks of Shelter Creek—all showed up here.

Most of the town’s wealthier residents would be over at the new craft brewpub, or one of the wine bars that had opened up in Shelter Creek over the last few years. Change was coming, courtesy of better roads and direct flights from Los Angeles to the nearby city of Santa Rosa. Ranch land was being plowed under for vineyards. Big tasting rooms and cute inns were drawing weekend tourist crowds.

If he could, Caleb would pick up the whole town and move it a few hundred miles north, away from all the tourists. He’d keep it small and simple, just the way it had always been. Dex always said that Caleb lived in the past, and maybe that was true. So far the present hadn’t shown him much to get excited about.

Except now Maya was back. Though that wasn’t exciting. It was so many feelings, he didn’t even have words for them all. The combination was irritating, like a horsefly that kept buzzing around his head no matter how many times he slapped it away.

Why the hell did she have to be so...so Maya? Even on a dark trail, with a huge backpack on her back, she’d been achingly familiar. The flashlight had caught her long brown hair, woven into braids, the way she used to wear it when they went riding or did stuff around the ranch. He’d seen the shadows below her cheekbones and the light in her eyes.

He’d thought he’d never have to see any of that again. Figured it was for the best. Whatever had been between them was in the past. Separated from the present by the massive chasm of his sister’s death in Maya’s car.

He’d raged at Maya after the accident. Raged and blamed and thrown his grief like grenades, destroying everything they’d had.

Still, somehow, last night on the trail, there’d been this thread, this connection. A tenuous glimmer of remembered love and shared pain that had linked them together.

He hadn’t felt linked to anyone since he’d said goodbye to the guys in his platoon and left for home. And even those connections had been different. Camaraderie. Teamwork. Friendship.

What he’d felt last night was far more confusing. A vague sense that, on some deep level, she knew him and he knew her. And even if what they knew about each other contained so much that was bad, it still made him feel less adrift.

He practically lifted his hand to swat that last thought away. Darn horsefly.

Where was Jace? He’d talked his buddy into meeting him here, hoping his old friend would lighten his dark mood. He needed the distraction. He couldn’t stand here thinking about Maya for another second.

Caleb pushed his way through the crowd and wrote his name on the chalkboard near the pool tables. Then he leaned on the wall to watch the play. A guy he didn’t recognize lined up his cue to take a shot. He was going for the eight ball, and no way was he going to make it. Caleb bit back the urge to help him out and watched him miss instead. Watched his friend clap him on the back in triumph and go on to win the game.

Winners and losers. Life had clearly defined boundaries about that. And Caleb knew which category he fit into. He’d tried to come to terms with losing everything. Tried to be okay with wanting nothing more than a clear deed for the ranch and a few beers at the end of the day.

Ever since he’d come home from Afghanistan, he’d tried to believe it was enough.

Glancing toward the door, Caleb spotted Jace heading for the bar, well-dressed as always, in dark jeans, polished boots and a plaid Western shirt. The former bull rider had been a total ladies’ man on the circuit, and he still dressed the part.

Glancing down at his own worn black T-shirt with the feed company logo chipped and faded across the chest, Caleb figured he had a ways to go in that department. Which was okay by him. Women wanted things he couldn’t give. Money. Stability. Fun.

There were a few empty tables, and maybe he should grab one, but Caleb was too wired to sit. He’d been fired up ever since he’d run into Maya last night.

She was coming by his ranch to give him advice on Thursday. That was rich. His townie ex-girlfriend had gone off to college to become an expert on ranching? She had the authority to tell him not to shoot the mountain lion that threatened his sheep?

He drained his beer. When he’d finished, Jace was just a few steps away. “You look like hell.”

Caleb set his empty down. “Glad to see you too. I wasn’t sure you’d get away from the rug rats tonight.” Jace was the brand-new foster parent for his nieces and nephew, and he had shadows under his eyes to prove it.

Jace smiled wearily. “I just hope they’re not tearing up the place. Carly said she’d get them to bed on time, but I have my doubts.”

“Well, from what you’ve told me, Carly is used to being responsible for the other kids.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.” Jace took a gulp from his beer, like he had to fortify himself just to think about his fifteen-year-old niece. “Teenage girls are scary.”

“Well, scary or not, I’m glad she took over tonight. It’s good to have you back in town.”

“I won’t have a lot of time for bars, but you’re always welcome to stop by. Come for dinner. Though I can’t promise much. My cooking skills are still pretty hit-or-miss.” Jace grinned. “Mostly miss.”

Caleb tried to meet his friend’s smile. He should be going by, should be helping Jace out. But the whole family thing made him uncomfortable. What would he say to a kid? What would he talk about at a family meal? His own family had fallen apart after Julie died—his parents had split up and first Mom, then Dad, had left town. It had been over a decade since Caleb had sat down to a family dinner.

“Have you heard anything about your sister’s trial? Is she really in jail for the long haul?” Caleb still couldn’t believe it. Jace’s older sister, Brenda, had always seemed so sophisticated and smart. Then she’d gotten hooked on drugs and started a relationship with her dealer.

Jace leaned on the wall beside him. “Twenty years for drug manufacturing, distribution, weapons, all kinds of stuff. On top of neglect of her kids.”

“That’s rough. How are the kids doing?”

“Let’s just say it’s an adjustment period for all of us.” Jace took a long pull of his beer, then swiped a sleeve across his mouth in a careless gesture that spoke reams about his state of mind. “I just wish I’d paid more attention. Figured out what was really going on. Those kids have seen way too much. It messes with them.”

Caleb cast around for some words of reassurance. He was rusty at any kind of real conversation. The weather, livestock, the cost of feed... He could talk about all that. But he’d learned a long time ago that his own inner world contained troubles too big to share. They stopped conversations. Made everyone look miserable. So he avoided talking about anything heavy. Better to stay on the surface than drown in the depths.

He surveyed the bar, looking for a new topic. They could always talk cattle. Jace had recently purchased an old ranch, and he could go on for hours about the bucking bulls he planned to raise once he got the place fixed up.

A woman sitting at the bar looked familiar. She turned to say something to her companion, and her name hit Caleb like a blow to the gut. Trisha Gilbert. Julie’s best friend growing up, who’d been with her the night of the accident. Who’d survived.

He hadn’t run into Trisha since he’d been home. What was going on? First Maya, and now this? Was there some cruel alignment of the planets that was bringing these women back into his life? He didn’t need reminders of the accident. He had plenty, every day that he lived and his little sister didn’t.

As Caleb watched, Trisha slid off a stool and walked toward the restroom. She moved with a slight limp and Caleb wondered if that was her souvenir from that horrible night. Trisha’s leg had been broken in a couple of places.

The guy she was with—kind of a skinny, ratty-looking dude—glanced furtively around the bar, reached into his pocket, took something out and dropped it in Trisha’s drink.

“Holy hell,” Caleb murmured, taking a few steps forward. He set his beer down on the nearest table, ignoring the protests of its occupants.

“What’s going on?” Jace moved to stand beside him.

Caleb pointed to the bar. “That guy right there? He drugged Trisha’s drink.”

Cold fury flooded Caleb’s system, pressing out from inside his chest, and he was moving, shoving aside chairs and people until he was in front of the ratty man. He grabbed the guy’s collar. “What did you put in it?”

“Get off me,” the guy spluttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you,” Caleb ground out, gripping him even harder. “I saw you put something in that drink.”

“Is there a problem?” The bartender, Royce, was Dex’s nephew. Small, young, not much help in a fight.

“This guy spiked his date’s drink.” Jace handed Royce the glass. “Save that. Call the cops.”

Royce eyed the man in disgust and put the drink out of sight, behind the bar. “I’m calling.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

“I didn’t do anything.” The man’s whine scraped away the last shreds of Caleb’s civility. Men like this hurt women and there were too many of them out there, wreaking havoc. Older guys had gotten Trisha and Julie drunk, the night Julie died. And now this jerk was hoping to do God-knows-what to Trisha.

The idea of some guy targeting Julie, in some future that could never happen, curled Caleb’s fingers tighter around the man’s coat. “Don’t ever come back here.” Caleb pulled him off the stool, shoved him toward the door, once, twice, herding the stumbling, stammering scum.

“Back off,” the man squeaked as he crashed into a table.

Caleb grabbed the weasel one more time and hauled him out into the night.

In the parking lot, the man tried to break free, but Caleb held tight and raised his fist. Trisha could have been his sister. She could have been Julie.

Someone grabbed his hand and forced it down. “Get a hold of yourself,” Jace commanded, low and stern, wrenching Caleb’s arm behind his back. “You’ve done enough.”

The weasel saw his chance and ran for his vehicle.

Headlights lit up the night as a sheriff’s car turned into the parking lot and pulled alongside them. The window lowered to reveal the scowling face of Adam Sears, now Deputy Sears, a friend from high school. “I heard there’s a problem. And look who it is. I should have known I’d find you out here, Caleb.”

It was hard to look dignified when your buddy had you in an arm lock, but Caleb tried. “It’s that guy over there, getting into the silver pickup.”

“Caleb, were you beating on the guy? I warned you last time. No more fights.”

“I just chucked him out of the bar.” The irritation was back, several horseflies now, buzzing wildly in Caleb’s mind. Adam was wasting time while the jerk got away.

Adam shook his head like a disappointed dad. “This wasn’t your problem to solve.”

“I don’t see you solving it.” Caleb tried to break free, but Jace wouldn’t budge. “Why don’t you do your job and stop him before he drives off?”

Adam pointed toward another car pulling into the lot, lights flashing. “He won’t get far. And my job is to keep the peace. Right now that means stopping you from doing anything stupid. I don’t want you back in my jail. I don’t want to charge you with assault. So calm down. Okay?”

Breath coming in ragged gulps, Caleb jerked his head toward the silver truck. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him?”

“I will be. But I also want to talk to you. Tomorrow morning. Meet me at the diner at nine.”

“I’ve got a ranch to run.” No way did he want a heart-to-heart about his wrongdoings with Adam, who made straight and narrow look so easy.

“Just meet him,” Jace said in a low voice. “You’re lucky he’s not arresting you.” He loosened his grip, and Caleb’s arm flopped back down to his side, the blood flooding in with pins and needles.

“Fine.” Caleb’s vision was clearing, the laser focus on his quarry easing. He suddenly noticed all the people who’d followed them out of the bar. They were standing around, gaping at him. Once again, he’d provided the entertainment at Dex’s. He should start charging admission. He glared at Adam. “But you’re buying.”

“Just be there.” Adam finally turned to look at the man who’d tried to drug Trisha. The coward had his hands on the truck while the newly arrived deputy frisked him. Adam took his microphone off the dashboard and his voice blared through the loudspeaker, silencing everyone in the lot. “Okay folks, that’s a wrap. Time to go inside.”

“Show off,” Caleb muttered as Adam drove off across the lot to help arrest the guy. “Come on. I could use another drink. And we should check on Trisha.”

“Hang on.” Jace put a hand on his arm to stop him, jerking it back when Caleb whirled to face him.

“What? Are you gonna give me a lecture too? I’m pretty sure Adam will take care of that tomorrow.”

“C’mon. I’ve known you forever. What is wrong with you?” Jace looked tired all of a sudden, and Caleb remembered everything his friend was dealing with at home. He’d lost his rodeo career, his entire life, when he’d taken on his sister’s kids.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Just saying the words felt like effort. The rage that had powered him into overdrive was fading. Now even the air felt heavy, weighing down muscle and bone.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jace mimicked. “You sound like a teenager. And I’ve already got one of those in my life. Seriously, what happened? Why are you so angry all the time?”

Where the hell to start? All the problems on the ranch that he couldn’t find the money to repair? The nightmares that stole his sleep? Or he could always blame Afghanistan, and everything that went down in that dusty hellhole.

Talking about that kind of stuff was impossible. So he’d blame the most immediate issue. “A mountain lion has been killing off my sheep. I got a permit, and last night I went out to shoot it. I ran into Maya instead.”

“Maya Burton?” Jace stared. “What was Maya doing near your ranch?”

Haunting him. A beautiful, brainy, scientist-ghost. “She’s some kind of expert on mountain lions. She said she was tracking them.”

“Sounds like she can’t be as smart as we all thought if her job involves chasing lions.”

“Maybe.” Caleb glowered, too much feeling coursing through him to appreciate the lame joke. He’d almost killed her. Almost shot her out there, on that trail. “She wants to come by my ranch and tell me how to keep them away.”

Jace blew out a breath. “That doesn’t seem like a great idea. You could tell her you’d rather not.”

“Trust me, I tried. But there are new laws, and apparently listening to her is one of them.” But there was more. Maya wasn’t the only reason to lose it. “Then Trisha tonight...well, it felt almost like someone was trying to hurt Julie.” Caleb ran a hand through his hair, trying to bring his thoughts into some kind of order. “Coming home, being on the ranch, seeing Maya and now Trisha, it just brings it all back.”

“I get it,” Jace said quietly. “I really do. But you’ve got to find a way to keep the past from messing up the present.”

Caleb eyed this new, mature version of his friend. “Not too long ago you would have landed a punch or two yourself.”

“Not too long ago I didn’t have three kids to think about,” Jace countered. “I’ve had to change. Maybe it’s time you grew up too.”

The old sorrow knotted in Caleb’s stomach. “I kind of feel like I grew up a long time ago. But I skipped the fun part and went straight to being the bitter old guy hunched at the end of the bar.”

“You’ve got to get over the things that are eating at you. Adam isn’t going to let you off with a chat over breakfast if this kind of thing happens again. You’re not a Marine anymore. You can’t deal with your problems via combat.”

Jace was right. But sometimes it was hard to stop fighting, after he’d spent so many years doing just that.

Caleb looked over at Adam, still across the parking lot, talking to the other deputy. His old friend had locked him up once already, a few months ago, the day Caleb realized that his dad had stopped paying taxes and the state was about to take possession of the ranch. Caleb had gotten drunk and disorderly at Dex’s as he tried to absorb the news—that his beloved Bar D Ranch, which he’d held in his mind like a precious prize to claim once he’d finished his final tour, was about to slip out of his hands.

He’d never told Adam or Jace the reason for his binge that night. He was too ashamed of the poverty, the way that his family, once respected and influential in Shelter Creek, was about to lose the very ground beneath their feet. Instead he’d sobered up in the drunk tank and gone home to figure out how to save the ranch.

And he had. Sort of. He’d worked out a payment plan with the state that could save the Bar D, eventually. But making those payments was a challenge, especially when the ranch also needed so many repairs. So when a mountain lion had taken a couple of sheep last week, it had felt even more personal than it might have otherwise. Those sheep were Caleb’s only hope of income, his chance to get himself out of this financial mess.

Jace cleared his throat. “Want to see if we’re up at the pool table yet?”

Good old Jace. Knowing when to stop lecturing and have some fun. “Okay.” Caleb clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jace pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “I’ve got to be home in an hour. And you should go home then too.”

“Yes, Dad.” Caleb winced as Jace landed a punch to his shoulder. “Ouch. I thought you were a pacifist now.”

“Mostly. But as your friend, it’s still my duty to hit you when you’re being an idiot.”

“Then I guess you’ve got yourself a new punching bag.”

“You’ve got to grow up. I’m serious.”

“I’m grown. I promise.” Caleb followed Jace back into the bar, knowing his friend was right. Adam was right. He had to stop fighting. He had to stop drinking so much. But if he did, what would he have left?

Nothing but troubles he didn’t know how to solve and memories he didn’t want to face.

CHAPTER THREE

MAYA HEAVED HER backpack through Grandma’s front door, inhaling the scent of the lavender sachets Grandma put in every drawer. It was the same smell Maya had noticed when she’d first come to live here as a scared, sad five-year-old. Peace. Comfort. Safety.

Funny how Maya hadn’t noticed the lavender when she’d stopped by briefly on Monday. She’d been too busy trying to figure out how to get away from town again, as fast as possible.

She unlaced her dusty hiking boots and set them back outside on the porch before stepping inside and closing the front door behind her. “Grandma, are you here? I’m home!”

“In the living room!” Grandma Lillian’s voice was light with laughter, and suddenly the meaning of all the cars parked in front of the house sank in. It was Wednesday evening. Grandma’s book club was here. “Come on in and say hello to The Book Biddies,” Grandma called.

Glancing down at her dusty clothes and scraped-up legs, Maya winced. She needed a shower desperately after spending two nights and days on the trail. “I’m really dirty!” she called back.

“Ooh most people don’t admit that outright,” came a sardonic voice Maya didn’t recognize.

A roomful of giggles followed the quip. They must have busted out the drinks already. So many of Grandma’s stories about The Book Biddies involved alcohol, Maya teased her that they should change their name to The Booze Biddies.

“I’m going to shower first!” She made it to the first landing on the stairs before Grandma appeared at the bottom, hands fisted on her hips.

“Maya Burton, are you hiding from a bunch of old ladies?”

“No.” Her face heated. “But I’ve been camping for two nights. I need to get cleaned up.”

“Come say a quick hello. Everyone is so excited to see you. It’s been thirteen years.”

“Exactly. So can’t we wait twenty minutes more? I look terrible.”

“No one cares how you look. And we’re going to get into our book talk soon. Just come?”

Maya’s feet were reluctant weights as she stomped back down the stairs. “I’m probably covered in poison oak and ticks.”

“Then a few of my friends shouldn’t scare you.” Grandma folded her arms across her pink-flowered bosom and set her lips in the stubborn line Maya recognized as the ancestor to hers. “I know you’re anxious about being home again. But my book club is the perfect place to dip your toes in the water.”

“I’m not ready to dip my toes anywhere but the shower.”

“Don’t be silly,” Grandma said and turned around with the confidence that Maya would follow.

Which she did. This was Grandma asking, so she’d do what would make her happy. As she followed her grandmother down the hall, Maya noticed how light on her feet the older woman was. Grandma wore hip fake-leather leggings today, a top covered in pink flowers and sparkly flat shoes. She moved like a much younger woman. Why had she stopped traveling? Why hadn’t she wanted to come see Maya anymore?

Maya had assumed it was because her grandmother was slowing down physically. But she sure didn’t seem slow. She was practically skipping. And judging from the laughter in the next room, Grandma wasn’t lacking in friends. She didn’t seem lonely or depressed.

Just before they reached the living room, Maya paused, heart thumping against her ribs, the air suddenly thin. It was one thing accidentally running into Caleb; it was another to deliberately meet a bunch of people who all knew her past. Maya had never had to do it before. Leaving town so soon after the accident had given her a fresh start where no one knew her story. No one knew that her bad driving had killed her boyfriend’s sister, the town’s sweetheart, Julie Dunne.

Of course Maya knew. Shame and regret ate at the edges of even her best days, and devoured her entirely on others. But she’d never had to be around anyone, except Grandma Lillian, who also knew.

Her heart kicked up another notch, and Maya inhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm down.

Grandma must have heard, because she paused, her face set and stern. “Chin up,” she said softly. “You can do this. It’s time to stop hiding.”

Maya wasn’t sure about that last sentence. Hiding had served her pretty well for over a decade.

But her grandmother had been so devoted over the years, traveling to see Maya wherever she was. The very least Maya could do was meet her book club friends.

Grandma took Maya by the hand. Wrapped in her soft grip, Maya trailed into the living room behind her, feeling like the lost kid she’d been when Grandma had taken her out of foster care and given her a home.

Once inside the doorway, Grandma released her hand and Maya stepped forward on her own power. She was instantly met with a chorus of “There she is!” and one “Oh my goodness, what happened to you?”

Maybe she should have showered first.

Heart thrumming an uncomfortable bass in her chest, Maya broke through the wall of exclamations. “I’ve been out hiking the past couple of days.” She looked around the room, recognizing most of the women sitting on Lillian’s comfortable sofas but feeling suddenly shy about greeting them. “Hello.”

Grandma gave Maya’s shoulder a quick, bracing squeeze. “Maya was out tracking mountain lions.”

“Why in the world would you want to do that?” A woman in a red sweaterdress, her platinum hair coiled in a perfectly styled chignon, raised her penciled eyebrows.

Grandma gestured in the elegant woman’s direction. “This is Monique Lawrence. She owns Monique’s Miracles. It’s a wonderful salon.”

Not that Maya spent any time at salons. But Grandma was forever hopeful.

“Nice to meet you, Monique,” Maya said.

Monique gave her a beautifully manicured wave. “So nice to finally meet you.”

“Maya!” Mrs. Axel, Maya’s former teacher, heaved herself out of Grandma’s coziest armchair. “How wonderful to see you!”

Maya went to Mrs. Axel and hugged her gingerly, trying to keep her dusty clothes away from the other woman’s flowered cardigan sweater. Mrs. Axel had always been small, but she felt frail now, and that one change drove home all the other changes Maya must have missed while avoiding Shelter Creek. Changes that Grandma had experienced, without her, because Maya had been too scared to face her past. She cleared the lump of guilt in her throat. “It’s great to see you too.”

Mrs. Axel held her at arm’s length, her pale blue eyes swimming with tears. “Look at you, all grown-up.”

“Grown-up and absolutely beautiful!” The exclamation came from Kathy Wallace, Grandma’s next-door neighbor, who’d babysat Maya and been on hand for every one of life’s occasions, from dance recitals to holiday meals. “It’s amazing to see you again,” Kathy said, reaching out her arms. “The photos your grandmother shares with me just haven’t done you justice.”

Maya hugged her, blinking back the sting of her own tears. Ever since she’d left, all of her thoughts of Shelter Creek were about what she’d been trying to avoid. Not about people like Kathy, who’d invested so much in her as a child. Who’d believed in her as she was growing up.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been in touch,” she managed to say. “It’s so good to see you, Kathy.”

When they pulled apart, Kathy’s cheeks were pink and she dabbed at her eyes. “Now, let’s not get all weepy. I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. It’s just wonderful to see you again. It’s been so many years, I thought... Well, never mind what I thought. It’s just so good to have you home.”

Maya tried to tamp down the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. “I know it’s been a long time. But Grandma was always so great about coming to see me, I guess I never needed to come home.” It was a weak lie and as soon as it was out, Maya felt like an idiot. “But I should have,” she corrected.

“Well, you’ve always given me a reason to have an adventure somewhere new,” Grandma chimed in, kind as ever. “There are benefits to having a granddaughter who won’t settle down.” Grandma gave Maya a glass of white wine and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Still, it’s very nice to have you home.”

“It sure is.” Annie Brooks rose from where she’d been sitting in the far corner, by Grandma’s piano. Annie had been a close friend of Grandma’s since the two of them were rivals for Miss Shelter Creek Rodeo, back when they were in high school. Now she came forward and clasped both of Maya’s hands in her own. “Welcome home, Maya.”

“Thank you.” Annie’s face was the same, with just a bit more weathering from all the time she’d spent out on her ranch. Her hair had more salt than pepper, but her warm smile hadn’t changed. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Annie just nodded, gave Maya’s hands one more gentle squeeze and then retreated to her seat. She never was a person to express her emotions in words, but Maya had always loved her. Annie had taught her to ride horses, had encouraged her passion for the outdoors and had shown her an example of what a strong woman in a nontraditional job was like.

Maya took a sip of wine to soothe the roughness in her throat and perched carefully on the arm of the sofa next to where Grandma sat down. Hopefully her dusty clothes wouldn’t do too much damage.

“How was your hike, dear?” Kathy asked. “Did you see any lions?”

“I saw one in a tree, early yesterday morning. I got a few photos, actually. And I set up several motion-sensitive cameras in the area. Hopefully I’ll catch some more photos with that.”

“Did you hear that?” Mrs. Axel waved her wineglass at the group. “I was her teacher, you know. And third grade was a big year for studying animal habitats.”

Maya laughed. Mrs. Axel had been a great teacher, taking the kids on nature walks and getting them excited about the local flora and fauna. “It’s true. Grandma, next time you get mad at me for chasing lions, you can blame Mrs. Axel.”

“You should call me Priscilla.” Mrs. Axel poured herself a generous refill of wine. “And I’m proud to play a part in your pursuit of lions.”

“Well, then when she gets bit by one, I’ll know who’s responsible.” Grandma sighed. “Maya, when you became a biology major, I assumed you’d end up teaching at a university or working in a laboratory. Not crashing through the woods, searching for predators.”

“I like the woods,” Maya said. “And predators.”

“You always loved animals,” Kathy added. “Remember, Lillian, when she found those abandoned baby raccoons? And tried to raise them herself?”

“Oh my goodness, I’d forgotten.” Grandma giggled. “And remember when she tried to pet an otter in the Russian River?”

“Oh no.” Maya put her free hand up in protest. “Do we have to talk about that?”

“Oh yes, we do,” Kathy said with a chortle. “That thing chased you all the way up onto the beach.”

“I never knew otters had fangs like that,” Grandma added. “I thought it was going to bite you for sure.”

“So did I.” Maya was laughing too. She’d been so silly, thinking somehow that just because she loved animals, they’d all want to be her friends. Grandma had probably let her watch Snow White too many times.

“You know, a lot of locals aren’t happy to have so many mountain lions around here these days.” The speaker was a severe-looking woman with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun and purple reading glasses perched on her nose. “I’m Eva Rosen, by the way. We haven’t met. I’m pretty new to Shelter Creek. I own an art gallery in town.”

Maya smiled at her, grateful for the change of subject, even if it wasn’t a happy topic. “Good to meet you.” It was so strange to think of art galleries in Shelter Creek. But she’d noticed several as she drove through town.

“Eva is right, you know,” Grandma cautioned. “You may run into some unhappy folks while you’re doing this study.”

Ha. She’d already met the unhappiest of them all. And he’d made it clear he didn’t want to work with her. Didn’t want her around here at all. “Well, it’s not like people in this town are going to welcome me back with some kind of celebration anyway.” Maya flushed at the hint of bitterness that had seeped into her tone and the silence that instantly coated the room in awkward truth.

“Now, Maya.” Mrs. Axel broke the silence to offer comfort. “The accident was a long time ago. Most people probably don’t even remember it. They definitely don’t blame you for it.”

“They did though,” Kathy said sharply. “All that nasty stuff about apples not falling far from trees. I gave a few people a piece of my mind about that.”

“I’ve heard about the accident,” Eva said. “But I’m sorry—I don’t understand about apples. Unless I’m prying...”

Grandma sighed. “It’s okay, Eva. It’s not a secret. Everyone knew that my daughter and her husband, Maya’s parents, were drug addicts. That’s why Maya came to live with me in the first place. After the accident, a rumor got started that Maya had been drinking when her car hit that tree.”

“Oh no.” Eva looked at Maya, her dark eyes bright with compassion. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Tests were done that night,” Grandma went on. “We proved there was no alcohol in Maya’s blood. The coroner ruled the death accidental.”

“But rumors have a way of sticking to things,” Annie said. “While boring old facts just blow on by.”

“Plus Trisha and Julie, the two girls riding in Maya’s car, had been drinking that night,” Kathy added. “So maybe that’s how the rumor got going.”

“I didn’t live in town back then,” Monique said. “But once in a while, gossip resurfaces in the salon. I don’t think most people believe that old rumor now, Maya.”

“Good to know,” Maya mumbled into her wine. Talking about all this was knocking her off-balance. They were all so casual, just chatting mildly about the thing that had shattered her heart and her world.

“Most?” Grandma looked at Monique sharply.

“Well, I’ve heard a few things I don’t like,” Monique admitted. “And I’ve always addressed it when I hear it. Unfortunately there are people out there who prefer their own version of things to the actual truth.”

Her words settled like mud in the bottom of Maya’s stomach. She’d known, of course, that there were people who’d happily resurrect old gossip. It was a small town and they needed something to talk about. But somehow the fact that Monique had witnessed it made it a lot more real.

“We need to help you face those people, Maya,” Annie said briskly. “We need to support you. I wish I’d supported you better back then.”

Eva lifted her glass toward Maya. “I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

“Me too,” Monique added.

“I’m okay,” Maya assured them, her skin going prickly with discomfort. “I’m used to handling things on my own. I’ll be fine.”

“But you don’t have to handle this on your own.” Kathy rummaged through her purse and pulled out a packet of tissues. She used one to dab her eyes. “I’m sorry. It just gets me very emotional.”

Her tissues had ducks on them. It was an unimportant detail, but Maya focused on it because seeing Kathy cry made her want to cry too.

“I feel the same as Annie.” Mrs. Axel’s voice was husky all of a sudden. “Maybe if more of us had gathered around you and spoken up for you, you would have felt like you could have stayed. Or at least come back to visit once in a while.”

Grandma wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Oh no, if she started crying, then Maya would lose it. And she didn’t lose it. Well, except for her meltdown by the side of the road the other day. She’d learned a long time ago that crying didn’t help. Mourning was a void she could get stuck in forever, because there was no closure when you’d been responsible for a death. Every day you lived was a day the other person didn’t. If you allowed yourself to cry, you might just never stop.

It was better to keep busy, stay focused, work hard and avoid other people and their emotions as much as possible. Because emotions were unpredictable. Look at her and Caleb. One day they’d been madly in love. Then the accident happened, and he’d instantly despised her.

That was why Maya had chosen a career that let her work alone, in the wilderness. In a solitary life, she couldn’t be hurt that way. And, most importantly, she couldn’t hurt anyone else.

The room had gone quiet, and the silence finally permeated Maya’s thoughts. She glanced around and saw that The Biddies were watching her expectantly, like she was supposed to say something.

“It’s okay,” Maya tried to reassure them. “I’m okay.” Really, she wanted to sink into the floor, down to the nice, cool, dark dirt of Grandma’s crawl space. Anywhere but here, with everyone’s pity and regret. “I’m sure it will all be fine. And I’m only going to be in town for a couple of months anyway.”

She wished suddenly, fervently, that she was still on the trail, setting up cameras, looking for scat and tracks. Those were things she could see and record and make sense of. That was peace. This was like standing in a hot spotlight, itchy and alone, picking at scars that never healed.

Kathy cleared her throat. “Just know that we are here for you. That if there is any gossip, we’ll try to stop it.”

“Anything you need—support for your work, someone to talk to, company if you are planning to go out—you just call one of us,” Mrs. Axel said.

Annie chimed in. “If you have trouble with any of the local ranchers, I’m your gal. None of them will give you a hard time if I’m around.”

Their kindness loosened the tears Maya had been holding back ever since seeing Caleb out on the trail. The salt stung her eyelids, and she reached for one of Kathy’s duck tissues.

“We may just be a bunch of Book Biddies,” Eva said, “but I think everyone in this room would like to help you feel at home here, in Shelter Creek.”

Grandma patted Maya’s knee. “You see? You’re not alone. You’ve got all of us.”

They were all being so wonderful, but they were seeing her as the sad, pathetic girl she’d been when she’d left this town. She’d changed since then, she was strong and independent. Why couldn’t they see that?

That was the danger of coming home. All that you’d become, all that you’d worked so hard for, wasn’t anything anyone could see. All they could see was a familiar face, and then they made familiar assumptions.

Still, all this was kindly meant. “Thank you,” Maya managed to say. “I appreciate it.”

Grandma’s soft hand reached for hers. “I’m sorry if we are too much. I guess we are all too old to ignore the elephant in the room.”

Maya scrubbed her palms over her eyes, wishing she could rub all this pity off her skin. “It feels a little like an intervention. Are you sending me to rehab?”

“Guilt rehab,” Kathy said. “You deserve to be comfortable in your own town. You may not choose to stay in Shelter Creek, but we don’t want you to live in exile.”

If only it was so simple. Was there really any rehab for the guilt and regret? Those things were just givens in Maya’s world. They wore away at her the way the Pacific’s waves eroded the cliffs by the coast. Little by little. Every day. All the time.

“This town needs to do better by you,” Annie said. “You’re brave to come home. Let us help while you’re here.”

Maya looked at The Biddies sitting there, with wine and books, and love in their eyes. She couldn’t tell them no, despite every instinct insisting she was better off alone. “I don’t think I could ask for a better set of bodyguards than you all.”

Monique let out a guffaw of laughter. “This town won’t know what hit them. Maya Burton’s home, and The Book Biddies have her back.”

It was what they all needed to lighten the mood.

It was also a good moment to escape. “I think the town, and all of us, would be better off if I had a shower now.”

“Just remember that we’re here for you,” Eva said. “And stop by my gallery sometime. Your grandmother told me that you take really beautiful photos. I’d love to see them.”

Maya’s cheeks flamed. “Grandma!”

Her grandmother’s smile was totally unapologetic. “You’re my granddaughter. I’m entitled to brag sometimes.”

“They’re not art,” Maya tried to explain to Eva, in case Grandma had built up her expectations. “They’re just something I do when I’m in the backcountry. To pass the time.”

“Well, whatever you call them, I’d love to see them,” Eva reassured her. “Come on by. We’ll have tea.”

“Okay, thank you.” Maya raised her wineglass to the rest of the room. “Enjoy your booze... I mean, your book club. And thank you for making me feel welcome.”

“Feel free to join us when you get cleaned up,” Grandma told her with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “We haven’t even talked about the book yet.”

Curiosity caught at Maya’s bookworm heart. “What did you read?”

“That romance book they made into a movie,” Kathy said. “You know, the one with the naughty businessman and the college student?”

Horror heated Maya’s cheeks. “Not... Fifty Shades?”

“That’s the one!” Grandma fanned her hand in front of her face. “Oh my, it was spicy!”

“Absolutely.” Monique put her palms to her cheeks. “That Christian Grey fellow—I wouldn’t mind an older version of him showing up in my shop.”

“Okay.” Maya was pretty sure her face was beet red. Thankfully she was almost out the living room door. “I’m going to leave you ladies to it. I’ve got some field notes to catch up on after my shower.”

Maya went to her grandmother and kissed her on the cheek. She waved at the rest of The Biddies. “Have a good time,” she told them and made her way upstairs. She could hear them talking and laughing, even from her room. And for the first time since she’d come home, she felt a little stronger. A little more like the person she normally was.

Maya Burton is home, and The Biddies have her back. She smiled, imagining pulling up to Caleb’s ranch tomorrow with a car full of Book Biddies. He’d at least have to be polite.

Somehow she had to find a way to work with him. But how could she work with him when he had such a good reason to hate her? He’d made it so clear, years ago, that he wanted nothing to do with her. He’d made that clear again when she saw him on the trail the other night.

She wasn’t great at working with people in the best of circumstances, which was why she spent most of her time doing research alone, in the wilderness. How was she supposed to work with Caleb?

Maya turned the shower on and peeled off her filthy clothes. The steaming water felt delicious as it washed away the layers of dust. If only it could wash away the worry too.

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