Married By High Noon. Leigh Greenwood

way through the hills.

      “You’re not used to driving in the mountains.”

      Dana laughed. “I spend at least a month each summer in the Adirondacks. Sometimes, after driving a particularly mountainous stretch of highway, I feel as though I never want to go back to flat roads. The sense of freedom is intoxicating.”

      But that’s not how she felt about these mountains. They gave her an empty feeling. She couldn’t understand why Mattie had insisted her son be raised in the very place Mattie had been determined to leave behind. There was nothing for anybody to do here except work, talk and take naps. Dana didn’t understand why such a handsome, intelligent man as Gabe hadn’t left years ago. Surely he had some ambition.

      “It shows,” Gabe said.

      “What?” His voice scattered her thoughts.

      “Your experience driving in the mountains. You drove that section like you’ve been doing it all your life.”

      It was a rather insignificant compliment, but Dana found herself quivering with pleasure. She told herself not to be silly, that she was no longer a little girl desperate for the approval of a handsome older boy.

      As they neared the entrance to the lane leading to her grandmother’s house, Dana caught sight of the little red barn mailbox. She felt a lump in her throat. She used to beg her grandmother to let her get the mail just so she could open the sliding door.

      “I need to get someone to paint that mailbox,” Dana said, noticing the colors had faded badly.

      “Why? There’s nobody here to get mail.”

      That wasn’t important. What mattered was that the mailbox look the way it always had. She couldn’t explain that to Gabe because she couldn’t explain it to herself. She had thought she hated Iron Springs, never wanted to see the farmhouse again. Yet one look brought a wealth of memories surging to the surface, good memories she had forgotten.

      The mailbox didn’t bother her as much as the neglected appearance of the driveway. Grass and great clumps of weeds grew through the loose gravel. A bank of tall weeds and bushy shrubs leaned into the driveway, seeming to block the entrance to the farm, telling people to stay out. Dana didn’t remember the trees being so tall. Their outflung branches would soon meet overhead.

      “It looks deserted,” she said.

      “It is deserted. No one’s lived on the place since your grandmother died.”

      Her grandmother had died of a heart attack during Dana’s senior year in high school. Dana’s mother had wanted to bring her to New York for burial, but Grandmother Ebberling’s will had been very specific. She was to be buried in the Iron Springs Cemetery alongside her husband.

      “I thought someone rented the land.”

      “They used to, but it’s hardly worth the effort to farm these days. They wanted to fence the fields and turn them into pastures, but your lawyer wouldn’t authorize the money. Nobody’s used the place for five years.”

      Dana had left all arrangements to the family lawyer. “It was supposed to be kept in order,” she said.

      “Not according to your rental agent, Sue. She keeps asking for permission to make changes so it can be rented out again, but your attorney refuses to authorize any expenditures beyond making sure the roof doesn’t leak.”

      Dana knew she was as much to blame as the lawyer. Her parents wanted her to sell it, but she kept putting off making a decision. Her grandmother’s will had stated that Dana was to have the farm so she would always have a place to call home. Dana hadn’t understood why the daughter of a millionaire father needed a farmhouse in order to have a home.

      “A couple of people tried to buy it, but the lawyer said you wouldn’t sell,” Gabe said.

      Couldn’t was more accurate. She’d started to several times, but something always stopped her. She prepared herself to see the house surrounded by weeds and vines growing up to the second floor. Surprisingly, the lawn had been recently mowed.

      “Who cut the grass?”

      “Sue has her son do it once a month. She met her husband at one of the parties your grandmother used to give when your mother was a girl. She got her first kiss under the oak near the back meadow. With all those memories, she said she couldn’t stand to see the place go to ruin.”

      Dana made a mental note to repay Sue. She pulled the Jaguar to a stop in front of the house. Danny couldn’t wait to get out of his car seat, but Dana didn’t want him out of her sight.

      “This house is in no condition for you to stay here,” Gabe said.

      “Probably not,” Dana agreed, “but I won’t know until I look inside.”

      Suddenly she knew she wanted to be alone when she entered the house.

      “Swing!” Danny cried.

      Memories of the swings flooded back poignant and strong. She and Mattie used to swing side by side for hours, talking about anything that came into their minds.

      “I’m not sure it’s safe,” Dana said.

      “I’ll check,” Gabe said.

      “How?”

      “I’ll sit in it. If it holds my weight, it’ll hold Danny.”

      Danny didn’t draw back when Gabe held out his hand, but he made no move to take it and leave Dana. As much as his clinging to her gratified Dana, she knew her own feelings weren’t the ones that mattered now. She might hate it, but Danny’s future depended on his being able to trust both his guardians, to be happy living with either. If she loved this child as much as she believed, she’d do everything in her power to help him learn to love Gabe.

      But having good intentions was easier than living up to them. A part of her hoped Danny would always love her better than Gabe. That made her wonder about her own character. She’d always considered herself a generous person. Being selfish wasn’t good for Danny.

      Dana knelt down in front of Danny and forced herself to say, “Why don’t you go play on the swing with Gabe? I have to go inside and see how many spiderwebs have been built since I was here a long time ago.”

      Danny continued to cling to Dana, but not so tightly.

      “If we go down to the fields, we might see a deer,” Gabe said.

      “He doesn’t know what a deer is,” Dana said. She could tell from Gabe’s shocked expression he probably thought she was guilty of criminal neglect in the boy’s education. “Gabe will swing you,” Dana coaxed. The idea seemed to appeal to him. When Gabe reached out and took Danny’s hand, he didn’t pull away.

      “Won’t you come with me?” Gabe coxed.

      “Go on,” Dana urged. “I’ll be out in a jiffy, then you can push me in the swing.”

      Danny’s smile was immediate and brilliant. “Danie not swing.”

      “I did, too,” Dana said. “Your mama and I used to swing all the time. We’d have competitions to see who could go higher.”

      “Who won?” Gabe asked.

      “I did,” Dana replied, suddenly self-conscious.

      “I thought so,” Gabe said. He smiled, but Dana had the feeling she’d just confirmed some point in his poor opinion of her.

      “Danny swing,” Danny suddenly announced. “Swing high.”

      Not too high, Dana mouthed to Gabe.

      “We’ll swing you up into the tree,” Gabe said. “Then you can look in all the birds’ nests and see if they have any eggs. Robins lay bright blue eggs. Have you ever seen a robin’s egg?”

      “No,” Danny said as he looked over his shoulder to assure himself Dana was still