The Rancher's Homecoming. Cathy Mcdavid

Sweetheart is where people come to get married. We perform a hundred wedding ceremonies every month.”

      “Where people did come. How many ceremonies have been performed since the fire?”

      She clamped her mouth shut, saying nothing. No need for it; they both knew the answer. Zero. A measly six weeks had passed and already Sweetheart was dying on the vine. Without a miracle, it would wither away into nothing.

      Sam wasn’t about to let that happen and possessed the drive and the resources to prevent it.

      “I can change that. Bring the tourists back. I’ll also be able to provide jobs for some of the locals. From what the real estate agent tells me, there’s plenty who need work.” His gaze involuntarily strayed to her work shirt and the NDF badge sewn on to the sleeve.

      She noticed, and her posture straightened. Pride wasn’t something Annie or any of the Hennessy women had in short supply.

      “Why do you care?”

      “Sweetheart was once my home.”

      “For two years.” Her voice broke. “Then you left.”

      All this time, and she was obviously still hurting. Sam would give anything to change that.

      “I came back for you.”

      “Not soon enough.”

      True. And he’d paid the price. So, apparently, had she. “We were young.”

      “That sounds like an excuse.”

      “I take responsibility for what happened between us, Annie. I’d say I wish things were different but then we wouldn’t have our children. Neither of us would change that.”

      “You’re right.” Her stiff posture had yet to relax. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to head home.”

      “You’re angry I bought the ranch. I get that.”

      “For starters.”

      He placed a hand on her arm, and then removed it when she glared at him. “Please, Annie. Help me help Sweetheart.”

      “What about your job in California?”

      “My foreman is covering for me the rest of the summer. Lyndsey and I will head home before school starts the first of September. After that, I’ll fly here as often as needed. Lyndsey’s grandfather will watch her.”

      Annie sucked in a sharp breath. Sam had hit a nerve.

      After he’d left her that last time, he’d returned to California and within a matter of months wed his boss’s daughter. Annie must have been devastated when the whole reason he’d accepted the job in the first place was because he wasn’t ready for a commitment.

      “I am sorry about your wife’s death,” she said.

      “It was rough.” Only Sam’s father-in-law knew how rough. Sam would move heaven and earth to make sure Lyndsey never learned the entire circumstances of that terrible accident. “I’m in Sweetheart to start over and to get this town on its feet.”

      He couldn’t tell her the real reason he was here, of his part in the fire or how often he’d thought of her during the past nine years. She’d never speak to him again.

      “Why did you have to buy the Gold Nugget?” she asked.

      “Ranching is my livelihood. What I know best.” He intentionally omitted his volunteer firefighting. “And, honestly, I figured if you hadn’t bought the Gold Nugget by now, you must have changed your mind.”

      “I didn’t.” Turning abruptly, she started toward her SUV.

      “Annie, wait.” He hurried after her.

      She didn’t stop until she was almost to the driver’s door, and then not because of him. She’d spotted Lyndsey, who emerged from behind the house.

      “Daddy,” she called.

      Sam could have kicked himself. He usually watched his daughter like a hawk. Today, he’d forgotten all about her. “Over here, sweetie.”

      “Look what I found in a hollow log behind the barn.” She held the hem of her pink T-shirt out in front of her, the weight of whatever she carried making it dip in the middle.

      Annie stood there frozen, observing Lyndsey’s approach. He tried to imagine what she was thinking. Despite his daughter’s girlish features, she resembled Sam, enough that most everyone who saw them together commented on it.

      Not only had he married soon after that final parting with Annie, he’d fathered a child almost immediately. He wouldn’t blame her if she hated him.

      “What have you got?” Sam asked when Lyndsey neared.

      The young girl eyed Annie with caution. Once outgoing and at ease with adults, she’d withdrawn since her mother’s death. Leaving her home and friends and beloved grandfather behind for the summer hadn’t helped, either. She’d been determined not to like Sweetheart from the moment Sam had announced they were going there.

      “Lyndsey, this is Annie Hennessy,” he said. “She’s an old friend of mine from when I lived here.”

      Annie sent him a cool look, and he could almost hear her saying, Old friend?

      When she focused her attention on his daughter, however, her expression melted. Annie did love children.

      “Nice to meet you, Lyndsey.”

      Sam vowed in that moment he wouldn’t leave Nevada until Annie looked at him with that same warmth.

      Lyndsey responded with a shy “Hello.”

      “What have you got there?” Sam crossed the few steps separating them. When he saw what his daughter had cradled in her T-shirt, his heart sank. Lyndsey was going to be disappointed again, and he couldn’t prevent it. “Oh, sweetie, I think they’re dead.”

      “No, they’re alive. See, they’re moving.” Gathering the hem of her shirt in a small fist, she tentatively touched one of the baby raccoons with her other hand. It moved slightly and gave a pitiful mew, rousing its littermate, which also mewed. “There were two other ones in the log, but they weren’t...” She continued when she was more composed. “I left them there.”

      “I think you should put these two back in the log.”

      “But they’ll die, too!”

      “The mother can take care of them.”

      “The mother’s gone.” Lindsey’s cheeks flushed the same pink shade as her T-shirt. “Something must have happened to her. Why else would she leave her babies?”

      Sam wanted to drop to his knees and pull her into his arms. She was projecting her own unresolved emotions onto the situation. Wasn’t that how the grief counselor had described her behavior during one of their sessions?

      It was hardly the first time and wouldn’t be the last. They both had a lot of healing left to do.

      “Daddy.” Her voice warbled. “We can’t let them die.”

      “What would we do with two baby raccoons?”

      “We can raise them. Until they’re big enough to live by themselves. We read a story in school about this family that rescued baby animals after Hurricane Katrina.”

      “They’re so tiny. I doubt they can even walk yet. We don’t know the first thing about raising—”

      “Kitten formula.”

      Sam glanced over at Annie. While he’d been talking to his daughter, she’d edged closer.

      “Dr. Murry in town can help you. He’ll set you up with bottles and formula. You’ll need a box and a blanket and a lamp to keep them warm. He’ll tell you more about that, too.” She gently stroked the head of one baby