Return to Homecoming Ranch (Pine River #2)

Millie’s gaze shifted back to Sam. “I don’t need nothing, I told you I don’t. I told you to stay off my property. What’d you bring?”


He hadn’t brought much: canned beans, bread, and the like. “I thought maybe you and the cats were hungry, so I brought out a few groceries. I’m going to get it out of the truck. And while I’m getting the things, I want you to promise me you’re not going anywhere near that shotgun.”

“I got a right to bear arms,” she said defensively.

“But you don’t have a right to wave it at a law enforcement officer.” Libby, he noticed, had inched much closer to him. He could have reached out and put his arm around her.

Millie flicked her wrist at him. “Ack, you’re always talking. And I don’t need your goddamn charity.”

“Well, I’m going to leave a few things all the same. If you don’t want them, you can pass them on. Libby, will you help me?” He turned to look at Libby, but she was already scurrying for the back of the truck.

“You ain’t nothing but a two-bit sheriff’s officer out here in the middle of nowhere cuz no one else will take you!” Millie snapped.

Whether Millie knew that for a fact or had somehow managed to blindly hit a nerve, the truth in her accusation stung Sam. Because he’d once been more than a two-bit deputy. And now, the only post he could get was this one.

He opened the gate of his truck and handed a bag of cat food to Libby.

“Told you. Mean as a snake,” Libby whispered.

He picked up the box of canned goods and walked around the truck, Libby just behind him.

“I didn’t ask you to bring me nothing,” Millie continued to complain, her gaze locked on the food.

Sam put the box down on the bottom porch step, and Libby put the bag of cat food beside it. A few of the cats rose up, stretching long before wandering over to sniff the bag.

“And don’t think you can bring that crazy bitch girlfriend of yours around me,” Millie added for good measure, gesturing to Libby.

Libby gasped. “I’m not his girlfriend. And I’m not crazy!”

“Then what the hell are you doing up here with him?”

“I told you, Ms. Bagley, she’s a friend,” Sam said calmly. “Now look, you know winter’s coming. If you like, I could come out and chop some wood for you and make sure you don’t have any cracks that will let the wind in,” he suggested.

“Maybe you’re the crazy one,” Libby whispered.

“I don’t want you coming out here! Next time you come, I’ll just shoot you and your tramp. How many times do I got to tell you, you ain’t welcome on my property?”

The cats were beginning to circle around Sam and Libby, their tails high, rubbing against his leg. Sam had seen a lot in his time, but if there was one thing that gave him the creeps, it was these cats. “I was just offering,” he said. “Have a good day, Ms. Bagley. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of weeks.”

“Don’t come back!” She reached down to pick up a cat. “You come out here again and, by God, I will shoot you! I do all right on my own!”

Sam put his hand to Libby’s waist, nudging her toward his truck.

“Good-bye, Ms. Bagley,” Libby said.

“Oh for shit’s sake, girl, just go on,” Millie said disdainfully, and dropped her cat, bending over to pick up the box of canned goods. “I don’t want your type anywhere near me. They should have kept you locked up if you ask me. No telling when you’ll go off again.”

Libby halted and turned back to Millie Bagley.

“Come on, Libby,” Sam said. “Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

But Libby didn’t move.

“What?” Millie demanded. “You got something to say, Libby? I always knew you was a loon. I’m just glad they got you before you did any more harm. You keep taking your medicine now.”

“I’m curious, Ms. Bagley. Did you think I was a loon before or after I delivered your meals twice a week? Because I don’t remember you thinking there was anything wrong with me then.”

“Come on,” Sam said, and took her by the elbow, forcing her to walk as Millie cursed at her from the porch.

He opened the door of his truck and helped her inside, then walked around to the front, giving Ms. Bagley a cold look as he did. Not that it mattered—she had her food and was cooing to one of her cats now.

Libby was already buckled in before Sam could get into the truck. He turned the ignition and headed down the pitted drive.

When they had cleared the house and were on the paved road again, he pulled over and looked at Libby. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I had no idea she knew about you other than from Meals On Wheels.”

Libby responded with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t worry about it.”