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drawers are ready for your things, but there’s a bunch of junk in the closet.” Maddy set the laptop case on the white-painted desk. “Wanna see my room?”
    “Of course.”
    Maddy gestured to the room across from Abigail’s. “That’s the bathroom we’ll share.” A towel lay bunched on the floor against the sink, and various toiletries lined the countertop.
    “Here’s my room.” It was next to the bathroom and across from the other bedroom door—Wade’s, she presumed.
    Maddy plopped on the bed, making it squeak.
    The room was a bit larger than Abigail’s, with basic white walls and honey-stained furniture. The sculptured brown carpet was a few days past its expiration date. Two photos sat framed and propped on the dresser, one of Destiny and the other of a young Wade with his arm around a pretty young woman—Maddy’s mother?
    “Very cozy,” Abigail said.
    The only splash of color in the plain-Jane room was a green pillow on the bed. Maybe they could redecorate. After they tracked down Maddy’s bike. Speaking of which . . .
    “I called the used bike shop yesterday, and they didn’t have any news for us. I have some other ideas, but I wanted your input.”
    “Can we do it later? I want to show you the corral and stuff. They’re branding right now, and it’s pretty fun to watch.”
    “Sure.”
    “You need a snack?” Maddy pulled Twizzlers from her desk drawer.
    “Don’t mind if I do.” She took the red sticks from Maddy and followed her into the hall.
    “That’s Dad’s room.” Maddy pushed open the door and flipped the switch. A masculine scent wafted into the hall. The lamplight revealed a room with dark walls and simple mahogany furniture. Tidy. Plain. A cowboy hat and shirt hung on a tree in the corner and a pair of black boots sat on the floor below them.
    She found herself curious about the man who occupied the room. Why was he all alone out here with his daughter? Why didn’t he date? Was he still mourning his late wife?
    “Come on, I’ll show you where the action is.”
    Abigail stuck the licorice in her mouth and bit off the tip, her mind still on Wade as she followed Maddy down the stairs and out the door. He’d seemed nice enough, not strange or rude or arrogant. How did a man who looked like that stay single all these years? And exactly how long had it been since his wife passed away?
    She remembered her aunt saying something about Wade and Maddy moving here and recalled the photos Maddy had shown her. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but the terrain was different in some of them. Flat and arid looking. Plus, there was Wade’s Southern drawl.
    “Maddy, where did you move from when you came to Montana?”
    “Texas. Don’t really remember it though. Dad bought the ranch when I was seven. It was called the Flying B, but he changed it to Stillwater Ranch.”
    Her mother must’ve died before they moved. Abigail didn’t know many men who could go five years without a woman. But then, Maddy couldn’t know everything about her dad.
    Abigail could hear the ruckus from the corral when they were still a distance away. Cows mooing, hooves pounding, men’s voices.
    They walked along the barn to the fence that enclosed a herd of calves and cowboys. It was a noisy affair. Her eyes scanned the men until she found Wade on horseback. One of the cowboys wore a big silver belt buckle that looked like the ones in Maddy’s album.
    Abigail gestured toward him. “Did he win a rodeo contest too?”
    “Uncle Dylan? Yeah, he used to rodeo with Dad. Moved up here a couple years after we did. Trophy buckles are a big deal, so cowboys like to show them off.”
    She looked at Wade. “Not your dad though?”
    Maddy shrugged. “He doesn’t talk much about his rodeo days.”
    “You have any other family here, other than your uncle Dylan?”
    “No, and he’s not really my uncle. He’s dad’s best friend, so I just call him that.”
    Wade twirled his rope, then tossed it. It sailed in a