A knock startled her and she spilled coffee on her sweatshirt. "Great." The knocking continued. "Coming," she said, using a damp towel to clean the spot.

"Hello," she said, opening the door part way. Her eyes widened in surprise as her mouth went dry. The stranger, with whom she had danced, now stood on her porch. "May I help you?" she asked as she smoothed her chestnut hair, which desperately needed brushing.

"I'm looking for work. I see your barn and fence need mending."

"Thanks, but I'm not in a position to hire anyone, especially someone without a name."

"The name is Scott. Scott MacKay." He offered his hand, to which she accepted. He held on a moment too long, letting a strange vibe enter her body. A sensation telling her this man had many layers and all were struggling to be the top one. "If you change your mind, I'm staying at The Junction." After looking at their hands, he released his hold and smiled with a raise of his eyebrows.

The door remained open until the tires were no longer heard on the gravel. She rested against the door, trying hard to put the pieces together, but they refused to fit. His words from last night echoed in her mind. "He didn't come here for a job. His mission is something beyond helping me fix the ranch. How do I uncover those intentions? A formal interview seems overboard, and he'll know I'm up to something."

Hours passed before another knock startled her. She pretended not to be home. When she sneaked upstairs and looked out her grandparent's bedroom window, which showed the drive, there was no car. "No one visits out here without driving." She raced downstairs and opened the door. "Is anyone here?" No one stood by the kitchen entrance either. "Oh well." When she turned to go inside she saw the brown box. She picked it up, removed the lid, and shrieked. The box fell from her hands and landed with a thud on the porch. Luckily the dead rattlesnake had not fallen out. She slammed the lid onto the box, stuffed her feet into the boots that set on the porch, and clomped to the burn barrel. "Good riddance," she said, tossing the box into the barrel.

Thoughts raced through her mind. "What is going on here? I wish this person would show up and tell me exactly what they want. If they think they can scare me off with a rattlesnake, they are crazy. Nothing scares a Chadwick." Caitlin sighed more out of tiredness than anything. She considered telling Garrett, but did not want to involve him if this was only some prank. "What if someone had propositioned granddaddy about the ranch? Surely Garrett would know, but if he knows why hasn't he said anything, especially when I mentioned my idea?" As more questions raced through her mind, she stayed outside, breathing in the cool air. Not even the calm, clear night, seemed to have the answers. "Granddaddy, I sure could use some guidance."




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