Chapter 26
Heather
The usual buzz of activity felt strained today. My employees shuffled through their tasks with grim faces, their usual friendly banter replaced by terse nods and hurried steps. Maria was off, and with Tyler still gone, I felt the weight of isolation more acutely.
Deciding I couldn't take another day of this stifling atmosphere, I threw some clothes into a bag, grabbed my purse, and drove to the nearest decent-sized town. The need to escape, even for a short while, was overwhelming. As the ranch disappeared in my rearview mirror, a sense of relief washed over me, quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Was I abandoning my post when things got tough?
By the time I reached the bustling town center, my head was spinning with conflicting thoughts. I parked near a quaint shopping district, the streets lined with boutique stores and small, independent cafes. I wandered in and out of shops, touching soft scarves, flipping through books, and trying on sunglasses, all the while my mind wandering back to Danny and Tyler.
Danny’s intense eyes, the way he’d looked at me last night—it was all-consuming. And then there was Tyler, his easy smiles and the way he’d always been there, right up until he wasn’t. How could I balance these emerging feelings with the chaos of the investigation?
In a boutique, I bought a simple, elegant dress, thinking how Danny might like it. I chuckled to myself, rueful. Was I really starting to dress with him in mind? Shaking my head, I left the store with the dress bag slung over my arm, my heart lighter but my thoughts no less tangled.
I spent the night at a small hotel with charming, ivy-covered walls and a cozy room that welcomed me with soft lighting and plush pillows. Room service brought up a tray of comfort food—grilled cheese with a side of tomato soup, the kind of meal that reminded me of easier times.
The next day, feeling a bit more composed, I decided to have lunch at a popular cafe I’d noticed the day before. The place was buzzing with the lunchtime crowd, and I found a small table outside where I could people-watch. I ordered a salad and iced tea.
As I sat there, the warm breeze fluttering the pages of the local newspaper I’d picked up, I thought about everything—the ranch, the investigation, Danny, Tyler. The rumors about Dina were a wound that refused to heal.
A shadow fell on the table, and I looked up to see Marjorie, an old friend of Aunt Dina’s.
“Heather Kent, is that you?”
“Marjorie!” I said warmly, standing to greet her.
As I wrapped Marjorie in a brief embrace, the familiar scent of her floral perfume brought back a flood of summer memories. "Marjorie, it's so good to see you," I said, stepping back but keeping hold of her hands for a moment longer. "I've taken over Horseshoe Lake Ranch. It's been... overwhelming at times."
Marjorie's smile was tinged with sympathy. “I’m sure, dear. Could I join you for lunch? I’d love to catch up.”
As we settled into our seats at a quaint cafe table tucked away in a sunny corner, she adjusted the wide-brimmed hat on her head, shading her eyes from the gentle assault of the midday sun. "So, Heather, that's a big step. Dina would be so proud, though. How's everything going at the ranch?"
I sighed. "It’s a lot to manage, especially with everything going on. I just needed to step away for a couple of days, you know, to clear my head."
Marjorie nodded understandingly, her hands folding around her coffee cup as it arrived. "I was devastated when I heard about Dina. She was such a pillar... strong and dedicated. It’s a tremendous loss. How are you holding up with the transition?"
"It's challenging," I confessed, stirring my tea a little too vigorously. "Dina left big shoes to fill, and I'm just trying to keep everything running as smoothly as she did."
Her eyes filled with a warm, empathetic glow. "She talked about you, you know? Always so proud. Said you had a head on your shoulders sharp as a tack. It's a big responsibility, but if anyone can handle it, I believe it’s you."
"Thanks, Marjorie," I said, feeling a small weight lift at her words. "That means a lot coming from you. Dina respected you immensely. Would you like to join me?"
We ordered lunch, and as we waited for our food, the conversation naturally drifted to memories of Dina. Marjorie reminisced about the trail rides they used to lead together, her laughter lightening the mood.
"Dina always knew how to handle the rowdiest of horses," Marjorie chuckled, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "Remember that old chestnut, Buster? He was a terror for the new hands."
I laughed, the image of Buster bucking comically as he tried to unseat the inexperienced riders vivid in my mind. "Yeah, Dina could handle him with one hand tied behind her back."
As our meals arrived—a club sandwich for Marjorie and a Caesar salad for me—we continued sharing stories. Marjorie spoke of Dina's dedication to the ranch, her knack for business, and her love for the land.
"It wasn't always easy for her, you know," Marjorie said thoughtfully, picking at her sandwich. "Especially towards the end."
"What do you mean?" I asked, pausing with my fork mid-air.
Marjorie sighed, setting down her sandwich and leaning in slightly. "Well, she never said much, but I could tell something was bothering her. She'd started locking her office—which she never used to do—and I saw her up late at night more than once, looking worried."
My interest was piqued, and a chill ran down my spine. "Did she ever say what was on her mind?"
"Not exactly," Marjorie continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But she mentioned once that she thought something odd was going on at the ranch. Said she didn't like the way some of the newer employees were conducting themselves. She was thinking about making some changes."
My heart thudded painfully against my ribs. "Changes?" I echoed, my mind racing.
"Yes, she was vague about it, but I got the impression she was worried about more than just work ethic. It was like she suspected... I don't know... something underhanded."
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together. My aunt hadn’t just been a victim of circumstance; she might have been actively trying to root out something malicious festering under her own roof.
After saying goodbye to Marjorie, who had given me more to think about than she probably realized, I strolled back to my hotel. The streets of the town were bustling with the mid-afternoon crowd, a sharp contrast to the often-quiet expanses of the ranch. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and pulled it out to see a message from Danny.
"Hey, just checking in. Everything okay?"
I paused on the sidewalk, people flowing around me like water around a rock. Why hadn't Aunt Dina worked with the police if she’d been worried? It didn't make sense, especially for someone as straightforward as she had been. Had she been protecting someone—or something? The thought gnawed at me, unsettling the brief calm Marjorie had provided.
Staring at Danny’s message, I debated how much to tell him. He deserved to know what I was discovering. Still, at the same time, I felt a tug of caution, an echo of Dina’s possible reasons for keeping the police at arm's length.
I typed out a reply, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard as I chose my words.
"Needed a breather from everything. Back tomorrow. Think we need to have a good talk."
I hit send before I could rethink it. The immediate buzz of my phone told me he’d replied.
"Understood. Let me know if you need anything."
I pocketed my phone and continued walking, my thoughts swirling. The day was winding down, the light softening. On a whim, I turned into a side street and found myself in front of a quaint bookstore that promised the comforting smell of old paper and possibilities. Maybe what I needed was a distraction, something to clear my mind for the night.
Inside, the store was quiet, the air filled with the musty scent of books. I wandered through the aisles, running my fingers over the spines, each title a window into a different world. Finally, I picked up a novel, something light and completely unrelated to crime or ranches—a romance, perhaps a bit cliche under the circumstances, but fitting given the turmoil of my own emotions.
At the counter, the elderly lady ringing up my purchase offered a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "A good book for a quiet evening," she commented.
"That’s the plan," I replied, returning the smile.
Back in my room, I changed into my pajamas and settled into the plush hotel bed, the book propped open on my lap. As I turned the pages, I allowed myself the simple pleasure of losing myself in a story, in lives that had easy resolutions and happy endings.
The night passed quietly. By the time I placed the bookmark and turned off the bedside lamp, my eyelids were heavy, my mind finally quiet enough to slip into sleep.