Falcon's Lair. Sara Orwig

      The short, wiry man frowned, rubbing his thin red nose with a gloved hand. “She doesn’t remember anything?”

      “Not yet, but she told me she had to find Ben Falcon. There’s only one reason she would be on that errand. I called Weston, so when the storm lets up, he’ll probably send someone for her.”

      “We letting them on the place?”

      “Sure, as long as all they do is get her and go.”

      “Want me to check on her?”

      Ben glanced at the house and shook his head. “You don’t need to. She’s not that injured. I’ll be back before long, I hope.” He shifted and drove away, passing the house and heading down the mountain to the highway to drive to the boys’ ranch.

      As he passed beneath the iron arch that read Bar-B Ranch, he thought about the boys he had met at the ranch, some teens, some tiny little kids. The ranch provided a good home for them and Ben tried to support and help any way he could. Since all the money he made had to be plowed back into the ranch, he gave his time and any expertise he might have. Each spring he gave the ranch a new foal and four calves, and this year he hoped he could do more.

      When he slowed behind the rambling structure that was home for the director, his assistant and the cook, as well as a dorm for the boys, Derek Hansen came out. He strode to the Jeep with Renzi trudging at his heels.