Page 8 of Cherry Tree Ranch

I meet Mom’s eyes with a soft smile. “I have no doubt. This is what I want.”

Mom squeezes my hand and nods in agreement. “Then it’s settled. We’re fighting to stay.”

Chapter Four

We headed back to our Silver Springs apartment straight away to pack up the rest of our stuff.

While I slept there, I had a vivid dream about the desk I found.

The woman in the photo was standing next to it and turning the small horse figurine in her hand the same way I did. She waved me forward and opened the roll-top desk.

“Look inside,” she said.

I leaned forward and saw ink stains on the wood, tiny drawers built into the back and papers everywhere.

I was startled awake by Mom dropping a pan she was packing up.

Now, after the dream, I’m convinced Grandpa took off the sheet for a reason.

While Mom finishes the cleaning, I move the last of our things to the ranch in her car.

I tug at boxes in the back. They’re wedged together after coming up the bumpy road. “Just fricking let go!” I scold them.

“Need some help?”

I nearly jump out of my skin and whip round. “Agh! Who the heck are—”

I find myself staring into the eyes of the bronc rider from the rodeo. My throat dries, and I brush off my shorts, dirty from leaning against the car.

“– you,” I finish.

His tall build shadows my short stature, and his dark features are as handsome as they were the first time I saw him. This time, though, the world stays exactly where it ought to be. I look at him expectantly. People don’t just walk up behind you all the way out here – the road up to the ranch is pretty steep.

His face falls, and he pulls off his cowboy hat. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand while holding his hat against his chest. “I’m Cash.”

There’s amusement in his kind eyes, a curl in his lip. I think me startling is funny to him. Completely embarrassed, I shake his hand quickly and draw my hand away to tuck my brown curls behind my ears.

“Uh, hi,” I say, wondering what alternate universe I’m in where the guy I’ve been thinking about constantly shows up at my new home in the middle of nowhere.

“Have we met?” he asks. “You look familiar.”

“Not really,” I say. “But I saw you at the rodeo in Silver Springs. You’re the one who got hurt, right?”

His eyes widen, and he wags a finger as he recognizes me. “You’re the girl who was dancing in the stands.”

“That was me.” My faces flushes. He remembers. I wonder if he remembers me staring. “May I ask what you’re doing up here?”

“Not a hundred per cent sure. Thought I’d take my horse for a ride.” He turns to where his black mare is tied up by the barn. “Need to get back in the saddle. If I don’t, my rodeo career will be over before it even really started.”

I furrow my brow, wondering where he’s going with this.

“I rode up the ditch to check our water, and I just … couldn’t stop. I took all the ditch roads until I got here.”

I lean back on Mom’s car and fold my arms. “Why couldn’t you stop?”

Cash squints, looking a little sheepish. “Heard the old man who lived here died, and I’ve always been curious about the place – you know, with all its legends and stuff. I didn’t know anyone would be here, and when I saw you … I … I was worried you’d call the cops if you saw me riding around.”

I raise a brow. “I might have. Aren’t the ditch roads private too?”