Chapter 4
Rachel pulls into the drive the next morning, her truck kicking up dust as she rolls to a stop near the main barn. I step out to meet her, grateful for the excuse to take a break from the inventory Wade has me reviewing.
"Ready to see your little slice of civilization?" Rachel asks, climbing down from the cab.
"Stone Creek, population what, a thousand?"
"Thirty-five hundred, thank you very much." She grins and gestures toward my truck. "You drive. I want to play tour guide, and it's hard to point things out while I'm behind the wheel."
The drive into Stone Creek takes us through landscape that's becoming more familiar each time I see it, the hills opening up as we approach the valley floor where the town sits nestled between limestone bluffs.
The road narrows into Main Street, and the town unfolds around us in both directions from the square, a mix of limestone storefronts, professional offices with brass nameplates on the upper floors, and sidewalk cafes spilling out from under colorful awnings.
I park near the square and follow Rachel onto the brick-paved sidewalk. The morning sun warms the stone buildings, and there's a rhythm to the place that catches me off guard.
A group of women emerge from a yoga studio with mats tucked under their arms, laughing about something.
A man in a suit cuts between them with a phone pressed to his ear, moving fast enough to suggest he's late for something.
An older couple strolls arm-in-arm past a coffee shop on the corner, and a kid on a bicycle weaves between the outdoor tables with the confidence of someone who's done it a thousand times.
"So this is the metropolitan center," I comment, taking in the activity.
"Don't let the charm fool you. This town does serious business.
" Rachel takes my arm and steers me down the sidewalk, pointing as she goes.
"That's Dawson's Feed and Supply, and Thompson Hardware is next door.
The Cattleman's Brewery is over there, and you'd like it.
Bennett's Books is across the way." She nods toward the corner building with the large windows.
"Lila Bennett runs it herself. She's a sweetheart. "
We walk past a boutique with western wear displayed in the window, and Rachel drags me inside before I can protest. Twenty minutes later, I walk out with my first official Texas cowboy hat, which Rachel insisted on paying for despite my objections.
"Consider it a housewarming gift," she says, adjusting the brim with a critical eye. "You can't live in Hill Country and wear that beat-up Kentucky thing."
We pass a small bakery where the scent of fresh pastries pours onto the sidewalk and an art gallery with local landscapes in the window before stopping outside a storefront with "Stone Creek Realty" painted across the door in elegant gold lettering.
Charlotte Faulkner emerges just as we approach, her dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and her stride quickening when she spots us.
"Well, if it isn't my two favorite Haydens." Charlotte comes down the steps with the warmth of someone who considers every client a friend. "I was hoping I'd run into you. How are you settling in at the ranch, Charlie?"
"We just finished moving the last of the horses," I reply. "Gran's got everything in hand, as usual."
"That doesn't surprise me one bit." Charlotte shakes her head with what looks like admiration.
"Your grandmother had more questions about that property than any buyer I've ever worked with, and every single one of them was the right question to ask.
" She glances between us. "I drove past a couple of weeks ago and saw the new fencing going up.
It's nice to see the place coming back to life.
How's my brother treating you? He's not giving you too much trouble, I hope. "
"Wade's been great," I answer. "I couldn't run the place without him."
Charlotte's expression softens with sisterly pride. "He'd never admit it, but he's been excited about your operation since the day I told him a horse breeder was buying the property. Just don't tell him I said that. He has a reputation to protect."
Rachel laughs. "He and Gran have been quite the team. She's been working him around the clock, and he hasn't complained once."
"That sounds about right. My brother doesn't know the meaning of a day off." Charlotte tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should both come by the community center next Friday for our monthly potluck. Most of the town will be there, so it'd be a good way to meet everyone in the valley."
"I'd like that," I reply.
As we continue down the sidewalk, a flour-dusted woman backs through a bakery door with a tray of fresh pastries and nearly collides with Rachel.
"Rachel Freeman!" She steadies the tray and sets it in the sidewalk display, her face breaking into a wide smile. "I heard you were expecting. Congratulations, honey."
"Thank you, Mrs. Henderson. This is my brother, Charlie. He just moved here."
Mrs. Henderson wipes her hands on her apron and extends one, her grip warm and surprisingly strong. "Welcome to Stone Creek. You stop by anytime you want fresh bread. We open at six."
"I'll remember that," I promise, and I mean it. The smell coming from that bakery alone is worth setting an alarm for.
An elderly man waves from the doorway of the barbershop as we pass. "Rachel! Tell Mason I've got that saddle soap he ordered."
"Will do, Mr. Calloway." Rachel pulls me closer. "I want to introduce you to my brother, Charlie. He just moved to the area."
Mr. Calloway's weathered face breaks into a grin beneath a head of thick silver hair. "Well, welcome to Stone Creek, son. Any family of Rachel's is a friend of mine."
"I appreciate that, sir."
Outside a restaurant with "Martinez Family Kitchen" painted on the window, the scent of roasted peppers and warm spice drifts across the sidewalk where a dark-haired woman arranges chairs on the outdoor patio.
Rachel nudges me with her elbow. "They serve the best Mexican food I’ve ever had. The queso and guacamole are off the charts."
Further down, a bookshop occupies a corner building, its large windows displaying bestsellers and local interest titles. Inside, a dark-haired woman glances up from behind the counter and waves.
"That's Lila Bennett," Rachel says, returning the wave. "We'll stop in on the way back."
Outside the feed store, a man in his mid-thirties leans against a truck, deep in conversation with a group of older ranchers. He has the build of someone who works his own land rather than managing it from a desk, and his tanned face breaks into a grin the moment he spots us.
"Rachel Freeman, still causing trouble?"
"Every chance I get." Rachel gestures to me. "Beau Hartman, meet my brother, Charlie Hayden." She catches my eye. "Beau and his father run the Whispering Oaks Ranch, one of the biggest cattle operations in the valley."
Beau extends his hand, his grip solid and work-roughened. "I heard you were bringing your horse-breeding operation down here. Raising rodeo horses with Mason, right? That's a hell of an operation you two are building."
"That's the plan. We've been working on it for a few years now, and we're making great progress. But having our two ranches close will take it to a whole new level."
"Well, if you need anything, you just holler. We ranchers look out for each other around here."
We walk another block and Rachel points out the old bank with its limestone cornerstone, the pharmacy where an older couple sits on a bench watching people pass, and a small insurance office tucked between two storefronts. Every few steps, someone waves at Rachel or calls out a greeting.
Near the far end of Main Street, a dark-haired man climbs out of a truck loaded with bags of fertilizer and fencing supplies. He spots Rachel and raises a hand.
"Diego!" Rachel changes direction toward him. "Your timing is perfect."
The man walks over with a relaxed stride. Up close, I notice the calloused hands and sun-weathered tan that mark someone who spends more hours outdoors than in.
"Rachel, good to see you." Diego's smile is open, his voice carrying a hint of an accent. "Mason mentioned you had family coming to town."
"This is my brother, Charlie." She turns to me. "Charlie, meet Diego Navarro. He's the vineyard manager at Willow Sage Winery."
"That's the place you want to visit after lunch," I comment, shaking his hand. "I'm looking forward to it."
Diego laughs. "Our staff would be happy to set you up with a tasting. My sister Isabela runs the place, and our head winemaker really makes the magic work."
"I'll agree with that," Rachel decides. "My favorite is the white blend she makes."
"Tell Tabitha I sent you. She'll take good care of you." Diego tips his hat and heads back toward his truck, already pulling out his phone to make a call.
Rachel steers us toward a small diner tucked between the hardware store and a law office. The sign above the door reads "Donna's" in hand-painted letters, and the smell of fresh coffee and home cooking drifts out when I pull the door open.
Inside, red vinyl booths line the walls, and a long counter stretches along one side with chrome stools that look original to the building. A handful of customers occupy the booths, their conversations merging into a comfortable hum of small-town life.
A waitress approaches with menus and a coffee pot. "Rachel Freeman, it's been a while. I heard through the grapevine that you're expecting. How's it going?"
"Everything is great. Donna, this is my brother, Charlie. He just moved to the valley."
A man in one booth looks up from his coffee and nods in my direction. A woman at another table smiles and returns to her conversation.
Donna sets down two coffee cups and fills them without asking. "Welcome to Stone Creek. You picked a good place to settle. What can I get you?"