Page 100 of Lost Trust

Uncle Albert laughs. “Cocky bastard.”

We’re still working when I hear a truck coming up the drive.

I glance over the edge of the roof.

Shelby’s pulling up beside the house, and before the truck has even fully stopped, Ryder and Ruby are scrambling out of the back door.

“Slow down!” Shelby calls after them.

They don’t listen.

They run across the yard toward the house. I remember doing the same when I was a kid. Grandma Evelyn no doubt has after-school milk and cookies waiting for them.

The memory makes me smile.

Thirty minutes later, we’re still working when I hear voices drifting up from below.

I glance toward the ground.

Marina is walking up the path, and she’s with a woman I don’t recognize.

Older, attractive, with wild hair, dressed like she stepped out of the ’70s, stumbled out of a music festival, and wandered onto a ranch by accident.

Dad notices them too. “Who’s that?” he asks.

“No idea.”

Marina looks up and meets my gaze. The corners of her mouth curl into a smile. And damn if that doesn’t make the heat feel even hotter.

The older woman’s eyes follow her line of sight, and she raises her hand to shield her eyes. They land on me, then move over to Dad and Uncle Albert.

She says something to the woman, then grabs her arm and pulls her toward the house while she keeps staring at us. Her hand comes up and waves at us before they disappear inside.

I watch until the door closes behind them.

Uncle Albert chuckles. “Whoever she is, she looks like a handful.”

I look at him. “No kidding.”

Dad clears his throat. “The longer we stand here, the longer this is going to take. And I’m about done baking in the sun.”

I turn back to the shingles. “Right.”

Another half hour passes before the door opens again.

This time, Marina comes out with the mystery woman, Charli, Shelby, followed by Grandma Evelyn.

They settle around the table on the shaded side of the wraparound porch, talking and laughing.

The afternoon light has started to soften, turning everything golden. A bottle of wine sits in the middle of the table, catching the last bright sliver of sunlight off the glass.

I find myself looking down there more than I should.

Grandpa Earl moseys out of the house and heads toward the barn.

A second later, I hear the sprinklers kick on.

Water arcs across the lawn in glittering sheets. Then the front door bursts open, and Ryder comes flying down the steps, wearing nothing but his jeans, his little chest bare and his hair tied back. Ruby is right behind him in a yellow T-shirt two sizes too big for her.