McKettrick's Pride. Linda Lael Miller

to the airstrip outside of town, where the McKettrickCo jet was waiting, with Keegan and Jesse already onboard, checking their watches every few seconds, but he was as curious to hear the lady’s answer as Maeve was.

       “That’s a secret,” Echo said mysteriously, and put a finger to her lips as if to say, Shush. “Maybe when we’ve known each other for a while, I’ll tell you.”

       “My name is Maeve,” said Rance’s eldest daughter, stoically charmed.

       “I’m Rianna,” said the younger.

       “Well, if my real name were as beautiful as yours are, I’d have kept it,” Echo confided.

       Rance could almost hear the engines revving on the company jet.

       “I’d better go,” he told his daughters, who seemed to have forgotten he existed.

       The white dog slipped past Echo, trotted over to Rianna and licked her face.

       Rance, poised to lunge to his daughter’s defense, was confounded by this display of canine affection.

       Rianna giggled, stroked the dog with both hands and looked back at Rance over one tiny shoulder. “Can we get a puppy, Daddy?”

       “No,” he said. “I travel too much.”

       “You can say that again,” Maeve quipped. Sometimes she was more like a very short adult than a kid.

       Echo raised one perfect eyebrow.

       “Goodbye,” Rance told his daughters.

       Rianna was busy snuggling with the dog. Maeve gave him a look.

       He got into his enormous gas-hog of an SUV and drove off.

      “I LIKE YOUR PINK CAR,” Maeve said, but only after she’d watched her father’s SUV go out of sight. The look on her face reminded Echo of Avalon, sitting next to the Volkswagen the night before, hoping to hitch a ride and fully expecting to be refused.

       “I like your dog,” said Rianna.

       “Dad won’t let us get one,” Maeve announced.

       “So I gathered,” Echo answered carefully. These were well-cared-for children. Their long dark hair was neatly brushed and clipped back with perky little barrettes, and their denim shorts and colorful sun-tops looked as though they came from some rich-kid boutique.

       So why did she want to kneel on the sidewalk and gather them both into her arms? They probably had a mother.

       “He’s gone a lot,” Rianna said.

       “We stay with Granny all the time,” Maeve added.

       “Does your mom travel, too?” Echo asked.

       “She died,” Maeve said.

       Echo felt bereft. “Oh,” she replied, lacking a better response.

       The door of Cora’s Curl and Twirl opened, and a woman stuck her elaborately coiffed auburn head out. “Maeve, Rianna—” She paused, noticing the dog, then the car, and finally Echo herself, and broke into a big smile. “You must be Miss Wells,” she said.

       “Echo.”

       “Echo, then,” the woman said pleasantly. “I’m Cora Tellington, and I presume you’ve met my granddaughters.”

       “I have,” Echo said softly.

       “Well, land sakes,” Cora enthused, coming over to pump her hand. “I wasn’t expecting you for a few more days yet. I would have dusted a little, inside the shop, and aired out the apartment upstairs if I’d known you were going to be here so soon.”

       “That’s kind of you,” Echo replied, already liking the woman. She’d purchased the shop sight unseen, and the whole transaction had been conducted via fax and overnight delivery services. She’d wondered what kind of person Cora Tellington was, selling property over the Internet for next to nothing. Cora had probably speculated about her as well. “Actually, I’m looking forward to getting the place in shape.”

       “Don’t you have any furniture?” Maeve asked, peering through the display window, which needed scrubbing.

       Rianna and Avalon drew up beside Maeve, taking ganders of their own.

       “How can you have a bookstore without any books?” Rianna asked.

       “My things are coming in a truck,” Echo explained. “And I’ve got a lot of work to do before I can stock the shelves.”

       Maeve whistled through her teeth in a way that shouldn’t have reminded Echo of Rance McKettrick but did. “I’ll say you do,” she agreed.

       Rianna turned and looked up at her worriedly. “Where will you sleep?”

       “Right here,” Echo answered. “Avalon and I stopped by a discount store this morning and bought an air mattress and some sheets.”

       “It’ll be like camping,” Rianna said, reassured.

       “No, it won’t, you doofus,” Maeve said, with all the disdain of an elder sibling. “Camping is outside.”

       “Enough,” Cora interrupted gently, but she looked as worried as Rianna had as she studied Echo’s face. “There’s plenty of room at my place,” she said. “Dog’s welcome, too, of course.”

       Echo’s heart warmed. “We’ll be fine right here, won’t we, Avalon?” Even as she said the words, though, she thought of Rance McKettrick, and wondered if she shouldn’t have taken his suggestion and gone on to Sedona instead, started her new life there.

       No, she decided, just as quickly.

       When it came to starting over, Indian Rock, Arizona, was as good a place as any.

      CHAPTER TWO

      EXPLORING THE INSIDE OF the shop with Avalon padding alongside for company, Echo had the inevitable second thoughts. Bringing the place up to her modest standards would take a considerable chunk of her cash reserves, which had been dwindling steadily since she’d made the decision to relocate.

       She’d had a good job in the Windy City, planning and staging fund-raisers for an art gallery, a tiny apartment with a view of the lake, and a growing online business that had filled her lonely evenings, though she still wasn’t making a profit.

       Now she ran her fingertips across a dusty shelf, toward the back of the very small store. Her reasons for leaving Chicago—a nasty breakup she couldn’t seem to get over, and the fact that her life had become sterile, without any discernible dimensions—seemed downright reckless in retrospect.

       Had she made a mistake?

       Avalon gazed up at her with that singular and unquestioning devotion only dogs can manage.

       Pets hadn’t been allowed in her building. The management didn’t want stains on the carpets, or scratch marks on the doors. Not to mention barking, though the flight attendants in 4-B had made enough noise to rival an animal shelter at feeding time.

       “Sterile,” Echo mused aloud, feeling a little better. “Real life is supposed to be messy.”

       Avalon made a sound Echo took as full agreement.

       They trekked upstairs, woman and dog, for a look at their new living quarters. The area consisted of two rooms, counting the miniscule bath, but the place had a certain run-down charm, with its uneven hardwood floors and big windows overlooking the street at one end and the alley at the other.

       Avalon’s toenails clicked on the floor as she explored, sniffing the stove, checking out the claw-foot bathtub, standing on her hind legs, forepaws resting on the sill, to look out the front windows.

       “A little soap and water,” Echo said, hoisting up one of the rear windows to let in some fresh air, “and we’re golden.”