Temporary Rancher. Ann Evans

somewhere on the property. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard, and it was a sure bet they would never sleep tonight if it continued. They discovered the source of the problem behind the big barn.

      A sixty-foot windmill stood beside a large tank, probably used to pump water to the pastures. Every time a breeze caught its weather vane and the fan blades turned, the screeching began.

      Riley pulled out her pad and pencil, adding one more item to the list of chores she’d been compiling—fix windmill. Even as she wrote, the wind sent the blades whirling, and the twins cupped their hands over their ears.

      Making a sudden decision, Riley tossed her list aside. “Come on, you two,” she said as she turned to head back to a toolshed they’d investigated earlier. “Help your mother with her first project.”

      As a teenager growing up on her parents’ ranch in Oklahoma, Riley had gravitated toward helping her father with his chores, while Jillian seemed more interested in, and adept at, assisting their mother. Riley felt sure she could handle silencing the windmill. How many times had she been at her dad’s side as he tackled problems with their old mill?

      She found tools and a cupboard holding replacement parts. She and the girls carried everything back out to the water tank. Riley glanced up, checking out the loop steps that led up to the platform where she could access the gear assembly. The mill seemed taller from this angle, and it had been a long time since she’d climbed a ladder that high, but no way were they going to put up with that noise tonight.

      “What if you fall?” Wendy asked, her head tipped back as far as it could go as she looked up.

      “She’ll get squished,” Roxanna added, and to Riley’s mind, she sounded a little too gleeful about the possibility.

      “I won’t fall. Watch. I’ll make it up there faster than a monkey going up a coconut tree.”

      That didn’t turn out to be entirely true. Riley wasn’t as limber as she’d been at fifteen. The loop steps were made of tightly welded metal, and the anchor posts of the tower were solid, but halfway up, the height got to her and she had to pause a moment to recapture her courage. Below her, the twins seemed impossibly small.

      At last, she swung onto the tower platform. She sat down immediately to catch her breath. Below, the Texas landscape looked green, so full of abundance and grace. The buildings made it seem like a Monopoly board come to life.

      Placing one hand to her brow in her best impersonation of an Indian scout, Riley stared off into the distance. “Hey!” she called down to the girls. “I can see Aunt Jillian’s apartment complex from up here.”

      “Really?” they replied in unison.

      She laughed and set to work.

      The structure had to stand up to tough weather, so it was well constructed from galvanized metal, and looked to be in pretty good shape. Neither the vane nor blades needed replacing. Riley pulled out the screwdriver she’d tucked into her back pocket and removed the face plate from the gear assembly. Using detergent-free cleaner, she wiped down all the moving parts, then discovered the culprit—a rusty pump rod. Fifteen minutes later, she had it back in working order.

      When she jumped to the ground from the last loop step, Riley couldn’t help grinning. Not bad for her first duty. Even Wendy and Roxanna seemed impressed. Now if only she could persuade Quintin Avenaco that she could handle any job.

      She wanted to explore further, but the girls seemed to be running out of steam. Riley settled them in front of the television while she sat at the dining table, making lists, writing down questions she’d need to ask Avenaco and studying a detailed layout of the ranch that she’d found in a desk drawer. Probably a previous ranch manager’s paperwork. Her new boss had said he might be back by midafternoon tomorrow, and she wanted to be prepared if she had to fight for the chance to stay here.

      By bedtime, all three of them were yawning. It had been a full day, and a nerve-racking one in some ways. A good night’s sleep would feel wonderful, Riley decided, even on the lumpy couch with Bambi staring down at her.

      Tucking the twins in bed went more smoothly than she could have hoped.

      “Do we get to go to that camp tomorrow?” Roxanna asked as Riley plugged in their night-light.

      “Tomorrow’s Sunday, so not until the day after.”

      She had made arrangements before they’d left Cooper for the girls to attend a summer day camp that would keep them busy while she worked—movies, arts and crafts, games. The woman she’d spoken to on the phone had agreed to take the twins even though it was last minute, but Riley wished she’d had more time to check out the camp more thoroughly. It was barely within their budget, and suppose the girls didn’t like it? Well, she’d have to cross that bridge if she came to it.

      The twins scooted into bed. Wendy glanced up only once at the towel-covered buffalo head, and Roxanna, in a show of unexpected sisterly love, promised to hold her hand all night. “If it falls down on us, don’t worry,” she said solemnly, snuggling under the covers until Riley could barely see her face. “I’ll pull you out.”

      Wendy’s eyes went huge. The possibility of being crushed hadn’t occurred to her.

      Riley bent forward to plant kisses along her daughter’s brow and move aside stray bangs. “It’s not going to fall down. It’s probably been up there for a hundred years.”

      “What do buffalos eat?” Wendy asked.

      “Not people,” Roxanna answered. “Unless they’re starving.”

      “Not people, period,” Riley said firmly, and kissed the girls good-night, giving them an extra ration of snuggling hugs.

      A rocking chair made out of cattle horns and cow hair sat next to the bed. After snapping on the night-light, Riley settled into it. Since this was a strange, new place—big emphasis on the strange—she wanted to make sure her daughters didn’t have difficulty falling asleep.

      They tossed and turned a few times, fussed with one another over bed space, then seemed to accept that nothing could harm them, especially with their mom in the room to stand guard.

      Within ten minutes Riley heard their soft, slow breathing. The sound always made her feel oddly content. Really, they were her own little miracles, these two. They were the most important part of her life and the only part of her old life she had wanted to hold on to. After some initial stubbornness, Brad had been willing to turn them loose with embarrassing ease. She would never forgive him for that, even though she’d been shaking with relief to have full custody.

      In return she’d had to hand over her share of their ranch and everything in it.

      Exhausted, Riley cocked her head to rest her cheek against her fist. She ought to make up the couch. Go to bed, her weary brain ordered. But it felt so good to just sit and drift for a while, to put all her worries in the basement of her mind. It was so hard to plow your way through a life that offered no guarantees about anything.

      She heard the air-conditioning kick on, and knew she should get up and boost the thermostat. The shorty pajamas she wore would offer little warmth if the unit ran all night. But under the veil-like prelude to sleep, she couldn’t seem to manage it. Really, who would have guessed that a chair made out of cattle horns could be so comfortable?

      A SCREAM WOKE HER. High-pitched, terrified and familiar.

      Wendy.

      Riley’s eyes flashed open, then fought against the bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. She shot out of the chair, her breathing tight, her heart missing beats. Both her daughters were awake. Roxanna was struggling with the covers, while Wendy, her blond hair falling into her face, jumped off the bed and threw herself against her mother’s legs. Her eyes were wide and panic-stricken.

      Riley caught Wendy by the shoulders. “What is it, honey?” she asked softly. “Did you have a bad dream?”

      Her daughter pointed toward the