Return to Homecoming Ranch (Pine River #2)

NINE

It was one of those early fall days when the sun began to sit lower in the sky and cast a gold light over the earth. It was perfectly still, not a breath of a breeze, and all across the meadow that stretched in front of the house, Libby could see dragonflies flitting across the empty tent pads, the sun glinting off their transparent wings.

She was sitting on the porch steps Luke had repaired. She had dressed in a cotton skirt and canvas shoes, and a long-sleeved Henley shirt. She’d pulled her unruly hair into a pair of low tails behind her ears. Below her, under the steps, the four dogs were lounging, waiting and watching for a sign that something would happen.

Maybe today something would happen. Maybe today, Ryan would find a way to properly apologize to her. Maybe they would agree to start thinking about how to get on with life in the new reality. Libby was aware that meant forgiving his affair with Gwen, and all the lying. And while she wasn’t quite ready to forgive Ryan for anything, she was acutely aware that it meant having Alice and Max back in her life. It meant having a family again. That Ryan had apologized for anything was a positive step, and it had put Libby in a very good mood. She felt buoyant and hopeful for the first time in weeks. She relished the beauty of the day, the dogs lying beneath her, the dragonflies, the sun—everything.

Her host of problems didn’t seem to loom quite as large today.

And yet, nothing had changed. Her plans for Homecoming Ranch were looking impossible. She’d met Michelle Catucci, a banker, and had explained the obstacles she’d encountered in getting Homecoming Ranch Events off the ground.

“Okay,” Michelle said. “What sort of business plan do you have?”

“That’s it,” Libby said. “Making it an event destination.”

“No, I mean a business plan,” Michelle had said. “With goals and benchmarks and some cost estimates we could look at. We can’t loan money without some sort of idea of what you’ll be bringing in.”

“It’s kind of a catch-22, isn’t it?” Libby had pointed out to Michelle. “I mean, I can’t pay back the loan until I get some business. But I can’t get business without a loan.” She’d laughed a little, as if the conundrums of a business like hers were shared by all businesses.

“Come back with a business plan,” Michelle had said as she’d put her Chanel-clad arm around Libby’s shoulders and shown her out. “And your bank records. Get all that together, and we’ll talk about this again. I want to help you, Libby, but the plan has to be truly feasible.”

Libby had been too embarrassed to admit to Michelle that she really didn’t know exactly what went into a business plan. But not nearly as embarrassed as she would have been if Michelle had seen her bank records.

“Hey, Libs.”

She glanced over her shoulder as Luke sauntered out onto the porch, dressed in jeans and a plain white T-shirt.

Luke smiled at her, his teeth awfully white against the dark beard he was growing along with his hair, which he was wearing in a little tail tied at his nape. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He walked down the steps and leaned down, tugging on the dog ear of her hair. “You okay?”

Luke and Madeline were always asking her that since she’d come back from Mountain View. “I’m okay,” she said. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day? What are you two up to?”

“Pottery,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t ask.”

“Hey!”

Madeline had emerged from the house in hiking pants, a halter-top, and a floppy sun hat, under which her sleek black hair hung down her back in a ponytail. At the sound of her voice, the beasts below the stairs began to rouse, coming out from their shade, stretching long, and yawning. Madeline was their favorite now, probably because she took long walks with them up the trails behind the house. Libby used to do that, but, well . . . things hadn’t been the same lately.

“I’m waiting on a guy to come and fix my car,” Libby said.

“Oh, good.” Madeline maneuvered her way between Libby and Luke, placing a hand on the top of Libby’s head to balance as she passed. “Luke, did you tell her about Sunday?”

“Right. Dad has invited some people to dinner on Sunday. The Broncos are playing their first regular season game, and in the Kendrick household, that’s what’s known as a Big Deal.”

Madeline paused in her progress down the steps and looked back at Libby. “You’ll come, won’t you? I think you should get out,” she said, before Libby could answer. “Don’t you think you should get out more? I worry about you sitting up here, night after night.”

“But I—”

“Sam’s coming.”