Travis hesitated, then he reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Okay, little sister. Okay. I’ll help you find Reed.”
“You will?” she managed.
“I will.”
“Good.” She nodded, feeling stronger already. “Great. Danielle gave me a name-”
Travis recoiled. “Danielle?”
“Yes. She wants Reed to come back, so that Caleb will go back to Chicago. There’s some Brazilian deal with a ticking clock.” Mandy waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway. She put me in touch with a private investigator. And he’s going to find Reed for us. All we have to do is keep Caleb from selling the ranch until then.”
Eight
Caleb gazed up and down the wide hallway of the main Terrell barn, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the job in front of him. He’d had his secretary calling moving and storage companies this morning, but they all said they needed an estimate of the volume to be moved and stored. So Caleb had to figure out what to keep and store, and what to sell with the ranch.
He couldn’t see the point of keeping the saddles and tack. Those things they’d sell as is. They’d also sell the horses and livestock. Same with the equipment and the vehicles. Whoever bought the ranch would likely have a use for much of the equipment, and Caleb was inclined to give them a good deal if it meant streamlining the sale.
The office-now, that was a different story. His boots thumped against the wooden floor as he crossed the aisle to stare in the open door of the office. It held two desks, five file cabinets and a credenza that stretched under the window. Some of the paperwork would stay, but a lot of it would be personal and business records that would have to be kept for the family. Well, for Reed. And that meant sorting through everything.
Caleb let his shoulders slump, turning his back on that particular job and making his way farther into the barn. About twenty horses were stabled inside. He made a mental note to make sure the hands were exercising each of them every day. He’d spoken briefly to their half dozen full-time hands, the cook and with the two men who were up from the Jacobses’ place.
Everything was at least under temporary control.
A horse whinnied in one of the stalls, drawing Caleb’s attention. He took a step closer, squinting into the dim stall.
“Neesha?” he asked, recognizing the Appaloosa mare. “Is that really you?”
She bobbed her head, seeming to answer his question.
A beauty, she was chestnut in the front, with just a hint of a white blaze. Her hindquarters were mottled white above a long, sleek tail.
She lifted her head over the stall, and he scratched her nose, rubbing her ears. She’d been a two-year-old when he left, one of the prettiest foals ever born on the ranch. He glanced into tack room, realizing her saddle and bridle would be easy to find using his father’s ultra-organized system. He also realized he’d love to take her out for a ride.
Someone entered through the main door, heavy steps, long strides, booted feet, likely one of the hands.
“Caleb?” came Travis’s flat voice.
Caleb’s hands dropped to the top rail, fingers tensing around the rough board. He was under no illusion that Mandy could keep up a lie to her brother. So, if Travis had pressed her last night, he was likely here looking to take Caleb out behind the barn.
Caleb braced himself and turned.
Travis came to a halt, but when he spoke, there was no malice in his voice. “I guess it’s been a while since you saw Neesha.”
“It’s been a while,” Caleb agreed, watching Travis carefully. A sucker punch was no less than he deserved.
“You up to something?” asked Travis.
Caleb had no idea how to answer that question.
“Hear from any new buyers?” Travis tried again.
“Nothing so far.” Caleb allowed himself to relax ever so slightly. Perhaps Mandy was more devious than he’d given her credit for.
“I’m trying to get an estimate for moving and storage.” His gaze was drawn past the big double door, toward the ranch house. He couldn’t begin to imagine how big a job it would be sorting through the possessions in the house. In addition to the rooms, there was the attic, the basement. He’d like to think he was emotionally ready to tackle it, but a thread of uncertainty had lodged itself in his brain.
Travis nodded. “A lot of years’ worth of stuff in there.”
“It’s a bitch of a situation,” said Caleb.
“That it is,” Travis agreed. “We’ve got to ride the north meadow fence today. You up for it?”
“With you?”
“With me.”
For a brief second, Caleb wondered if Travis was luring him away from the homestead in order to do him harm. But he quickly dismissed the suspicion. If Travis wanted to take his head off, he’d have tried by now. From everything Caleb knew and had learned, the man was tough as nails, but he wasn’t devious.
“Sure,” Caleb agreed. The house could wait. It wasn’t as though it was going anywhere.
“I’ll take Rambler,” said Travis.
The two men tacked up the horses and exited into the cool morning sunshine. The meadow grass was lush green, yellow-and-purple wildflowers poking up between leaves and blades, insects buzzing from plant to plant, while several of the horses in the paddock whinnied their displeasure at being left behind.
They went north along the river trail, bringing back Caleb’s memories of his childhood, and especially his teenage years. He, Reed and Travis had spent hours and hours on horseback out in the pastures and rangeland. They’d had a special clearing by the river, where they’d hung a rope swing. There, they’d swam in the frigid water, drank beer they’d bribed the hands to bootleg for them, bragged about making out with the girls at school and contemplated their futures. Funny, that none of them ever planned to leave the valley.
“I did a search on Active Equipment,” Travis offered, bringing Rambler to walk alongside Neesha. “You’ve been busy.”
“Had nothing better to do,” Caleb responded levelly, though he was proud of his business achievements.
Travis chuckled. “I bet you fly around the world in that jet, going to parties with continental beauties, while your minions bring in the millions.”
“That’s pretty much all there is to it.” Caleb pulled his hat down and bent his head as they passed beneath some low-hanging branches. He was surprise by how natural it felt to be in the saddle.
“Gotta get me a job like that.”
Caleb turned to look at Travis. “Are you thinking of leaving Lyndon Valley?”
“Nah, not really. Though I wouldn’t mind tagging along on one of your trips sometime, maybe Paris or Rome. I hear the women are gorgeous.”
“Open invitation. Though, I have to warn you, it’s mostly boardrooms and old men who like to pontificate about their social connections and their financial coups.”
“You’re bursting my bubble.”
“Sorry.”
They were silent while the horses made their way down a steep drop to a widening in the river. There, they waded hock-deep to pick up the trail at the other side, where they climbed to the flat.
“You remember the swing?” asked Travis.
“I remember,” Caleb acknowledged. If they turned north and followed the opposite riverbank, instead of veering across the meadow, they’d be there in about ten minutes.
“You remember when Reed dislocated his shoulder?”
Caleb found himself smiling. It was the year they were fifteen. Reed’s arm had snagged on the rope, yanking
