“I have no intention of changing your mind,” Hunter assured her grimly. “You’ll change it all on your own when the lawyer explains things.”

  Scarlett nodded and looked out the window.

  “I can already see where my grandmother will plant her roses,” she said as she took a step closer to the window. The cat was purring against her chest now. “She’s always wanted to grow some yellow ones and it’s too cold in Nome. I’d like to put in some grass so Joey can play, too.”

  She turned to him and Hunter nodded as if he understood.

  “Grass doesn’t grow easy here,” he cautioned her.

  “I’m persistent.”

  “I suppose the idea of it is too much to give up yet,” he admitted.

  Scarlett, shifting the cat in her arms to be more comfortable, walked over to the doorway leading into the rest of the house. An old sofa, tufts of cotton coming out of it, sat along a wall in the living room. Sagging lace curtains hung over a large picture window. One of the hooks must be missing, she decided, because a corner of the lace panel hung almost all the way to the floor. An upright piano, a few of the keys chipped, hugged a wall.

  “You play piano?” she asked.

  “No.” Hunter followed her into the room. “My grandmother did. She died before...” he hesitated “...before we moved in with my grandfather. But we heard about her. He told us she would play classical music at night that was so sweet even the cows wandered close enough to listen.”

  “My grandmother plays, too,” Scarlett said with a chuckle. “Not classical, but dancing music. I haven’t noticed any wildlife listening to her, but she loves the piano. Me... I didn’t inherit her talent. Not patient enough, I guess. Growing up, I wanted to be outside doing almost anything instead of practicing. My sister Carly takes after her and plays beautifully. It’s what got her through—”

  Scarlett stopped herself. She’d decided on the flight down here that the Jacobsons didn’t need to know her family’s business.

  “Through some hard times.” Scarlett finished the sentence.

  She didn’t explain further and Hunter didn’t ask.

  “The bedrooms in this house are down the hall,” he finally said as he gestured her forward. “There are three—my grandfather had one, I had one and my two younger brothers shared.”

  Scarlett shook off her painful memories and chuckled softly as she started down the hall. “Your brothers probably hated you for having a room to yourself.”

  “They claimed they did,” he said with a quick look at her. “But it made them closer to each other for all their griping.”

  He sounded wistful. His face didn’t reveal any past sorrows, though, so Scarlett decided she’d imagined it. Then the cat stirred in her arms. When Scarlett let the feline down, it walked over to Hunter and started rubbing against his ankles.

  “So which room was yours?” she asked.

  He pointed to the far one on the left.

  The door opened easily. The windows were cleaner in this room than they had been in the rest of the house. She figured it might be because they faced the east and Hunter had told her that most of the rain came from the west or down from Canada to the north.

  “Hardwood floor,” she muttered in approval. “That will polish up nice.”

  A yellowed poster of some rodeo rider still hung on the wall with a thumb tack in each corner.

  “I always had a big piece of carpet over the floor,” Hunter said. “Kept the room warmer in the winter. There’s a basement under the house, but it’s not finished or heated. So the floor is cold.”

  A twin bed, without a mattress, was pushed toward the wall. The cat went over and jumped up to balance on the springs. A bookshelf had been nailed to the wall above the bed. An old blue ribbon, the kind they gave away at state fairs, was tacked to the edge of the shelf.

  “Four-H,” Hunter said when he saw what she was looking at. “I raised a calf one year to compete.”

  “Nice,” she said.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything more.

  “A new coat of paint will make the room good enough to use,” Scarlett said. “It has strong light. And with a soft chair in the corner there, someone can sit in the winter and read.”

  She looked up at Hunter, forgetting for a moment that he wouldn’t share the satisfaction she felt in knowing the house was basically sound. Indeed, he was looking worried.

  “It might all come to nothing,” he reminded her.

  “I’m not getting my hopes up,” she said, although she likely was.

  The cat meowed and jumped down from the bed.

  “If you come back, I’m going to set up an account for you at the hardware store in Dry Creek,” Hunter said.

  “Not ‘if.’ When,” she corrected him.

  He continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Knowing you, you’re going to go ahead regardless of what the attorney says. It might take some time to work the details out if we need to go to court. I don’t want you spending any of your money. Order any building supplies you need through the hardware store and they’ll charge it to the Jacobson Ranch. We have an account.”

  She searched his face to see if he was telling her the truth.

  “In the end, if you don’t get the house, we’ll pay you for your time,” Hunter said. “Any work you do, keep track.”

  He was being too generous.

  “Is that how you’re going to trap me?” she finally asked. “Pay for stuff and then claim I owe you some ridiculous amount for plaster and paint.”

  “Are you listening to me?” Hunter said, sounding exasperated. “I’m not trying to trick you with anything. It’s my grandfather who does things like that. I’ve never cheated anyone in my life.”

  “So you say,” Scarlett said. “I don’t really know either of you.”

  “Just use the account, okay?” he said. “I’ll have the attorney add something to the contract saying the Jacobson Ranch will pay for supplies and not charge you anything. We’ll put a new roof on, too.”

  “I don’t take charity,” Scarlett said, crossing her arms.

  “Make an exception.”

  Scarlett was about to argue the point, but she heard a piercing scream outside. Her heart stopped for a beat. It was Joey—she’d recognize his voice anywhere. She spun around and started to run until she realized the scream wasn’t one of pain or terror. When she reached the door from the kitchen to the outside, she saw why. Joey was kneeling in the mud on a small rise beside the barn and he had his arms wrapped around a dog that looked like a collie. Mr. Jacobson and another man were watching him. Nothing was wrong.

  Scarlett stopped to catch her breath and turned to Hunter who was just behind her.

  “I was so scared.” She sank back in relief.

  He must have stepped forward because, before she knew it, she was leaning into his embrace.

  “Me, too,” he whispered.

  Then he wrapped his arm closer around her. Just to steady her, she told herself, refusing to assign any other motive to it because she had no intention of moving away. In the year since her divorce, the one thing she’d missed about her ex-husband was having someone to worry with. Not that he had showed much active concern, but she had thought it was better than nothing.

  She turned slightly and she felt something press against the top of her head. Had Hunter kissed her there?

  She kept turning and, before she knew it, she was looking up into his eyes. Without his hat, there were no shadows to hide the frank intensity of his gaze.

  Hunter reached out and touched her cheek.

  “I’m glad the boy’s okay,” he said, and she could see his relief.

  It struck her forcefully that he’d been more frightened for her son than Joey’s father would have been. “Thank you.”

  He looked as though he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

  If he had kissed her, it was more parental than romantic, she told herself. Hunter apparently worried about everyone. She squashed the flicker of disappointment that he hadn’t followed through and given her a real kiss.

  She stepped away and turned to walk through the door. He followed. She needed to remember that his kindness could be a ruse to make her give up the property she’d been promised.

  Once outside, they walked side by side to where Joey and the men stood. The cat was already racing ahead of them.

  The day had warmed now that the rain was over and the mud was starting to dry, which just meant it stuck even more to the soles of her shoes. She wondered how she was going to get the knees on Joey’s pants clean given the way he was squirming around on the ground, playing with that dog. And now the cat had joined them.

  “Mommy,” Joey squealed when she got close enough for him to notice her. “I found my dog. She came to me. And the cat came, too.”

  She had never seen bliss like this on her son’s face. Suddenly mud and laundry weren’t so important.

  She knelt beside him, grateful Linda had loaned her a pair of jeans. Then she put her hand on Joey’s back. “That’s not your dog, sweetie. And the cat belongs to the Jacobsons.”

  She nodded toward the man standing with the elder Jacobson. He was dressed in dark wool trousers and a billowing white shirt. He had an untrimmed beard, most of it white. He must be the shepherd Hunter had told her about. “I think the dog belongs to this kind gentleman here.”

  The man tipped his black hat in acknowledgment.

  “You have your teddy bear,” she told her son, hoping to make him feel better. He’d left it in the pickup he’d ridden over here in. He didn’t even acknowledge her words.

  Instead, Joey studied the man skeptically.

  “He keeps his sheep on this land,” Scarlett told her son. “It’s his job.”

  Joey nodded, but he wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “And those sheep need a good collie dog to tell them where to go,” the man said as he walked over to Joey. “But don’t you worry none. She makes a good friend, my Sally does. I’ll bring her by to visit when I can. Would you like that?”

  “I could be her boy,” Joey said shyly.

  “Sally would like that,” the shepherd assured him.

  Joey nodded again, but he scooted back from the dog so that he was closer to Scarlett. The cat kept close to him and crawled up into his lap as though to comfort him. The boy had lost so much in his young life already. He deserved more than a stuffed animal to hug. She wanted to promise Joey that she would get him both a dog and a cat of his own, but she didn’t dare—not until she knew what their future was going to be.

  Suddenly her temper rose. It wasn’t fair to keep them waiting.

  “So are you going to give us this place or not?” Scarlett asked as she stood and faced the two Jacobson men.

  * * *

  Hunter moved forward and reached out his hand to Scarlett. He prayed that she would take it. She just stared at him, though, looking miserable. He heard his grandfather walk over to Mr. Cleary, the dog following him. Everyone seemed to be giving him plenty of room; even the cat stayed on Joey’s lap.

  “You can trust me,” he said to Scarlett. “We’ll figure it out. I suppose we could always rent you the house and some of the land.”

  She didn’t reach for his hand.

  He wondered if he was being unreasonable as he brought his hand back to his side. He didn’t know how his grandfather was planning to cheat the Murphy family. Maybe Scarlett was right and the man had had a change of heart. It could happen, he told himself, trying to believe it. He realized how right Scarlett was when she said faith could not be forced. No matter how he looked at things, Hunter didn’t believe his grandfather was really giving away this place as he’d said he was.

  Suddenly, Hunter heard a meow and the cat was licking Joey’s hand. The boy looked happy as he bent to cuddle the feline. He’d never seen any of the cats adopt someone this way before. They usually reserved their affection for the Jacobsons.

  “I’ll call Mr. Monroe the minute we get home,” Hunter finally said, turning his attention from the cat. “Set up an appointment. If he’s not coming out here, we’ll go there. If he gives a go-ahead, then I’ll never say another word about it. Our family certainly owes your family.”

  Even the cat seemed to know that, Hunter thought.

  Scarlett nodded emphatically. “And not just to let us rent something. My granny still remembers how hard she had to scrape to get by after my grandfather died. They lived on bone broth with vegetables that whole first winter. She lost ten pounds. The only thing of value she had was her engagement ring and she couldn’t bear to sell it. The first thing she said when she got your grandfather’s letter was that finally she could stop worrying about us all starving.”

  Hunter looked up in surprise. “I had no idea things were that bad.”

  “They’re not anymore,” Scarlett said. “But my grandmother still fears they might come to that. That’s what your grandfather robbed her of—her peace of mind. She just worried for so long that she kept it up even when things became better. That’s why she needs to own her home. It would be in her name—in all our names. She wouldn’t have to worry about getting evicted or anything.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hunter said. If he’d known that, he would have demanded restitution for the older woman even if his grandfather hadn’t made the first move.

  Scarlett didn’t say anything, but he could feel the tension leave her.

  “I’m sure the attorney will have some words of wisdom,” Hunter said.

  “Isn’t your attorney the same as your grandfather’s?” Scarlett asked.

  Hunter shook his head. He’d had his own counsel since he’d turned eighteen. It was the only way he could make sense of the problems his grandfather caused.

  “Okay, then,” Scarlett said.

  Joey was the one who led them all back to the house. He carried the cat and stopped midway to rub against her fur. His hair had some of the copper color of his mother’s and, in the sunlight, the orange fur of the cat blended with it. The calicos were all good listeners. Maybe the cat had sensed the boy was upset and that’s why she’d been so kind. Hunter wondered what other disappointments the boy and his mother would face before they left Dry Creek.

  They were almost to the house when Joey stopped again.

  “What’s that?” he asked as he pointed.

  Hunter saw the small circle where concrete had been poured to form holes. He looked around until he found the other three circles.

  “Part of the base for the swing set me and my brothers had.” Hunter squatted to pull some of the weeds away. “The metal poles to the swing set fit into the concrete right here.”

  “But where are the poles?” Joey asked as he turned around. “I don’t see them.”

  “They’re in the barn,” Hunter said as he stood upright again. “In storage. We outgrew the swing set and took it down.”

  Joey looked over at Hunter. “Can you put it back up?”

  Hunter glanced at Scarlett. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ve never been on a swing,” Joey said wistfully, his eyes downcast. “I don’t know how to swing.”

  “It’s not hard,” Hunter said.

  At the same time Scarlett said, “He’s afraid.”

  “Ah,” Hunter murmured.

  “You could teach me.” Joey looked up at Hunter, his eyes making an appeal.

  Hunter knew he should refuse. That something as simple as a swing set would only add to Joey’s disappointment when everything fell through.

  “I already don’t have a dog,” the boy said, and Hunter knew he was being played. But there was nothing insincere about Joey when he added, “Please.”

  Hunter looked over at Scarlett.

  “You don’t need to,” she said. “There’s a swing set at the school he goes to next year. I mean, if we’re still in Alaska. He can wait and learn then.”

  Joey stuck his chin out. “But I want to know how before I go to school. I don’t want the other kids to make fun of me if I fall.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Hunter said automatically. But then he remembered how worried he and his brothers had been when they’d gone to school for the first time.

  No one spoke for a minute.

  “The first thing to do,” Hunter finally said, “is to go to the barn to see if all the poles are still there. I won’t take long to set it up if they are and we can give Joey a few lessons at least.”

  “Really?” Joey beamed for a moment and then stopped. “What if I do fall?”

  Hunter knelt by the boy. “It’s not a high swing. Six foot tall at most.”

  “He still gets nervous,” Scarlett said with a worried look at the boy. “Don’t ask me how, but his father had him convinced he’d fall if he did anything.”

  “I suppose there’s a chance you could.” Hunter kept his eyes on Joey, but he had a ridiculous urge to comfort Scarlett at the same time. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll teach you how to tuck and roll if you want. That way it won’t be so bad to fall.”

  Joey’s nodded but his apprehension was still visible.

  “I’ll even tell you my secret word,” Hunter said then. “It’s what boys for generations have said when they fall.”

  The boy’s eyes started to sparkle as he looked up at Scarlett. “I’ve never had a secret word before. Can I?”

  Scarlett’s gaze seared Hunter before she turned to her son and nodded.

  “We should look for the ladder, too,” his grandfather said.

  The older man had walked up and joined them without Hunter noticing him.

  “That roof needs to be patched before it rains again,” the old man added.

  “You’re not going up on the ladder,” Hunter said and turned to his grandfather to make sure he understood. “Promise me.”

 

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