Page 8 of Second Chance at Mountain Creek Ranch
“Let me look this all over and make a few calls,” he says.
I stand as well, but I need one last question answered. "How much trouble am I in?"
He frowns, not bothering to hide his expression. “I won’t lie to you. The signatures aren’t looking good. They can choose to file charges against you that could result in a heavy fine and possible jail time.”
"That's what I was afraid of," I mumble under my breath.
5
TRAVIS
I'm waiting by the truck for Harper when she comes out of Garrison's office. She looks like she's seen a ghost or something. She steps off the sidewalk to cross the street but doesn't stop to look and see if traffic is coming. A car honks and swerves around her as she crosses.
“Harper!” I yell, running towards her. I hold up my hand to signal for the next car to stop. They also lay on the horn, but I don’t care. “What’s the matter with you? You couldn’t have been hurt or killed.”
She looks at me, her eyes not registering that she sees me. “I’d like to go home.”
I help her across the street and into my truck. I take a moment to calm my racing heart as I circle back around to the driver’s side.
“What the hell was that?” I ask her, unable to hide the anger in my voice. She doesn’t look or react to me. She just keeps staring out the window. I touch her shoulder. “Harper, what the hell is going on with you?”
“Don’t.” She tries to shrug my hand away, but I won’t let her.
“Please, tell me what happened?”
She finally turns back to look at me and freeze when I see her tear-stained face. She takes a deep, ragged breath and falls apart in front of me. I pull her into my arms. I feel completely powerless to help her. I don't know what happened, but I'd give anything to make her feel better.
I’ve only ever seen Harper cry once in our lives. We were eight. She was swinging on the swings at recess. I was standing near the monkey bars, watching her swing higher than anyone I’d ever seen before. She started counting down from three and jumped. She tried to land on her feet, but she twisted her ankle beneath her. I was the first to her side, and the teacher told me to take her to the nurse's office. She cried in my arms then too as I helped walk her in from outside.
Harper reaches her arm around my neck and holds on tight. I don’t bother asking her to explain. I know that she will tell me when she’s ready.
If I learned anything from my first experience of getting Harper to stop crying, it’s distracting her. When she hurt her ankle, I told her about the time I nearly broke my neck, jumping off the roof, trying to fly like Superman after my cousin dared me.
"I'm trying to buy the old Greenway Ranch," I say into her hair. Her breathing sputters like she’s trying to catch it. So, I continue, “That’s what I was doing at the bank today, trying to get a loan approved.”
She pulls back slightly to look me in the eyes. Her breathing steadies out.
“Your dream,” she whispers.
I can’t believe she remembers. “Yeah, it’s been a long time coming, but I hope to find out soon if I’ve been approved.”
“Take me there,” she says. “I want to see it.”
HARPER
Travis pulls his truck up the long dirt drive to the Greenway Ranch. The house has been unoccupied for almost a year now. I remember Nash mentioning something about Mr. Greenway passing around Thanksgiving last year. The shrubs and flowers in front of the house look like a jungle. Mrs. Greenway always took such pride in the upkeep of her home. It's sad how much it's changed since she passed.
I remember my mom bringing us kids over here to play in the yard while she and Mrs. Greenway visited inside. One time when we were playing tag, in all the excitement, Nash pushed me into her flower bed, and I landed on her prize-winning Bluebells. You would have thought I kicked her dog or something from the way she lost it.
When I got older, my mom explained to me that Mrs. Greenway saw her flowers as her children. Not in a weird crazy lady way. But as a way to distract her from focusing on the fact that she and Mr. Greenway couldn't have children.
“You have to rebuild the garden back to its original glory,” I tell Travis.
He looks at me, confused, but he must see the determination in my expression because he nods once in understanding. I love that I don't have to explain why to Travis. He just knows me so well that he doesn't have to ask why, just that it's important to me, and he will do it.
“Want to have a look around?” He asks.
I nod, and we both get out. I forgot how beautiful this piece of land is with the mountains' view off in the distance, the sound of the river running behind the house, and the potential for this ranch to get a second chance.
