taking on the frantic urgency of a heavy metal drum solo. “You can’t stop us.”
“No, but I can make it hell for you to make so much as a tire track on the property. And if you try to get around it, I can make it news.”
Eric sighed. “How am I supposed to get all that done? We’re an oil company, not a community development company.”
“Dunno,” Lane said. “You’re the business guy. I’m just a dumb cowboy, remember?” He looked up at the ceiling as if searching for answers. “Maybe you need to hire somebody who knows what the town needs. Somebody who lived there.”
***
Sarah pulled the Malibu to a stop at the fork in the road and quickly recited the Robert Frost “The Road Not Taken” poem in her head. No, this wasn’t a case of taking the road less traveled; both roads were equally scarred and pitted, so she couldn’t even figure out which one that was. This was a matter of taking the right road.
She should go back to the cabin, grab the few belongings she’d left there, and leave. But what she wanted to do was go to the ranch and see Cinn just one more time, maybe even spend the day with him.
It would be a rash, impulsive move, the kind of thing Sarah Landon never did. She’d spent the last ten years building her career by avoiding that kind of self-indulgence. She’d taken the hard road, over and over, denying herself the freedom of turning off her predetermined path. She’d been disciplined and hardworking, responsible and dependable.
And where had it gotten her? To the crossroads of Nowhere Street and Disaster Road. What the hell did it matter which way she turned? Either way, she was screwed.
So she might as well go play with that horse.
She’d have to talk to Trevor first. Yesterday’s getting-to-know-you session hadn’t required anything but herself and the horse, but to go any further she’d need a halter, a lead, maybe a lunge whip for ground training.
That would mean facing Trevor’s teasing, and probably a bunch of questions about Lane. Maybe she should just hunt down the equipment and find the horse. It was wrong, she knew, to just go on and do what you wanted with an animal. But what had Lane said?
He’s your horse if you stay.
Well, she was staying, wasn’t she? Maybe just for today, but still—that made him hers.
Chapter 36
Deep down, Sarah knew she was being foolish. She was liable to get attached to the horse, and then it would be even harder to leave. The best insurance would be to make plans. That’s what she’d done for the past decade: map out a plan of attack and stick with it.
Taking out her cell phone, she dialed Kelsey’s number.
“Hi, Kelse?”
“Sarah.” Her sister sounded relieved and angry all at once. “Where have you been?”
It was the way she sounded when she couldn’t spot Katie on the playground and then the girl popped out of the bushes laughing. When had Kelsey become such a mom? It was like their roles had switched.
“I stayed at the ranch.”
“With Lane?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad. He was nice.”
“Yeah, he seems that way, but he’s not. Kelsey, he was the one who bought Flash.”
“Flash?” Kelsey sounded stunned. “Wow, what a coincidence. That’s amazing. Does he still have him?”
“No.” Sarah could barely get the words out through clenched teeth. “He bred him, though. He has a colt that—well, it could be the same horse.”
“Cool.”
“Cool? Is that all you have to say?”
“Yeah. You loved that horse. Isn’t it cool to see his baby?”
“Kelsey, he stole Flash, remember? Two thousand dollars. The horse was worth twenty.”
“I know, but we had to sell him fast and—well, that’s how it worked out. It’s not like we could have kept him.”
“I could have kept him.”
“How? Without Roy…”
“It would have been hard, but I could have done it. I could have taken him to rodeos again, won some prize money.”
“How? How would you have gotten him there? Who’d drive the truck? You had to be in the trailer with him or he’d kick it to bits.”
Sarah gripped the phone so hard her hand hurt. “Never mind, Kelse.”
She didn’t need to be reminded that she should have been in that trailer. Instead she’d been putting on mascara. Primping while Roy got killed.
Kelsey knew her so well she could even read her silences. “Sarah, it wasn’t your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to you. I know it does.”
“If I’d been there, Roy would be alive.”
“No, he…”
“That’s