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Authors: Cat Miller

Sun Burnt

BOOK: Sun Burnt
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SUN BURNT

 

 

 

Cat Miller

This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2015 by Cat Miller. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

 

Cover art by Regina at Mae I Design and Photography

 

Edited by Ellie at LoveNBooks.com

 

Formatted by Joseph James Thomas

 

The author acknowledges the copyrighter or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Orioles; Yankees.

 

 

 

 

ONE

 

Kesslyn Walker stared mournfully into her Jack and ginger. She sat at the end of a bar in a honky-tonk bar in the middle of Nowhere, Texas. Okay, it was
n’
t exactly Nowhere. It was just outside of her destination of Walker Ranch in Walker Creek, Texas, where her legacy waited for her to claim it.

She supposed most people would be excited to learn the
y’
d inherited a massive ranch and more money than sh
e’
d ever imagined having in her life, but Kesslyn was
n’
t. This should have been her fathe
r’
s inheritance. He would have known what to do with a ranch. H
e’
d grown up on the ranch and would have known how to carry on. He at least would have had some clue as to how a ranch was run. That was, if he wanted to keep the property at all. Her father had never taken Kesslyn or her mother, Lara, to visit his birth place. Sadly, sh
e’
d never even met her grandparents and Kesslyn did
n’
t really know why that was. She only knew there was a disagreement between her father and grandfather that had lasted since before she was born.

Sh
e’
d been working at her job as her best friend, Mitchel
l’
s, personal assistant and office manager three fateful weeks before, when the call came from a lawyer with a thick Texas accent looking for the daughter and only child of Russell Walker, Jr. Just hearing her fathe
r’
s name had brought tears to Kessly
n’
s eyes. Her parents had been killed more than two years before in a car accident one snowy day on their way home from a skiing trip in Pennsylvania. A semi had lost control in the slippery conditions and crossed the double lines into the lane where her father was driving. In an instant, her parents were both gone, and Kesslyn was left alone in the world.

Mr. Hodges Baird, Esq. was her grandfather, Russell, Sr
.’
s, lawyer. H
e’
d been searching for her father to inform him of the passing of his parents, when he learned of Russell, Jr
.’
s untimely death. Claire Walker, her grandmother, had passed the year before losing her battle with breast cancer. Russell, Sr. passed eleven months later, ostensibly from a broken heart. So Kesslyn was needed in Walker Creek, Texas, to sign the appropriate paperwork and inspect her property and the business it supported.

Kessly
n’
s father had also been a lawyer, so she understood the legal mumbo-jumbo. Sh
e’
d worked for his firm until his passing, at which time, she found it too difficult to sit outside of the office he had occupied. They would have gladly kept her on to work for the new partner, but Kesslyn could
n’
t do it. She needed a change. Her life was up in the air, and she had no idea where the pieces would fall. So sh
e’
d gone to work for Mitchell, who was a very successful realtor. She put her business degree to work helping Mitchell build and run his company. Mitchell was overly understanding, in her opinion, and had told her to take all the time she needed to get affairs in order.


You never know, Kess, this might be just what you need. Maybe i
t’
s time for you to move on. Yo
u’
re wasting your time here with me
,”
Mitchell had reasoned
.“
Do
n’
t scowl at me like that. I did
n’
t expect you to work here forever. Honestly,
I’
m surprised yo
u’
ve stayed this long. I know yo
u’
re bored being my office manager. You have so much potential. This could be your fresh start
.

Mitchell was a great guy. The
y’
d been best friends since high school, and she loved him. He was her family. The only family she had left. When h
e’
d driven her to the airport, Mitchell made her promise to keep an open mind. She was to take the time she needed to learn about life on a ranch and every aspect of the business before she made a decision about the future of the ranch.

She knew he really meant she needed to make a decision regarding her future and where she would live it. Somehow she doubted it would be feasible to run a ranch and business long distance. Baltimore was a long way from Walker Creek. Even if it were possible, she was far too much of a control freak not to be on hand to oversee the business herself. The ranching bit, well that was another story. Kesslyn was a city girl, born and bred. Sh
e’
d learned to ride a horse with her dad. She enjoyed riding, but that was a far cry from living on a ranch.

The trip itself had been a nightmare. Her flight was delayed. In the middle of nowhere, on a country road after driving for two hours, her rental car began to sputter and smoke. Sh
e’
d pulled to the side of the road with a sigh of resignation. She pulled out her cell phone to call AAA, but of course, she had no damn signal.

There was no use in getting out to open the hood. She had no clue what she was looking at on a car. She owned a car, but being the city dweller sh
e’
d been raised to be, Kesslyn rarely drove. She lived and worked in downtown Baltimore. Her job was walking distance from the red-brick row home sh
e’
d grown up in in the shadow of Camden Yard. Most other places she needed to go could be reached on mass transit. So, no, she would
n’
t be fixing the car on her own. Until her parents passed away she had
n’
t even taken her own car for scheduled maintenance. Her father had done that for her. She could hear his voice in her head saying
,“
I told you yo
u’
d need to know these things one day, Peanut
.

Luckily, she had
n’
t been as far off the beaten trail as sh
e’
d believed herself to be. After walking for a bit, a car stopped to offer her a ride, but Kesslyn was too wary of strangers to accept. The kindly old man told her h
e’
d send the sheriff out to pick her up. She thanked him and kept walking. It was rude, she supposed, to turn down the ride, but she was a stranger in a strange land, and old habits die hard. Before too long, a patrol car came into view. The car pulled alongside her and rolled down his window.


When Old Man Johnson told me there was a sweet little filly
,”
the officer made air quotes when he repeated the other ma
n’
s description
,“
walking down the county road I thought he was into the moonshine again.
I’
m glad I decided to investigate anyway
.”
He stepped out of the cruiser and tipped his hat to Kesslyn. It was
n’
t your average police hat though. It was a cowboy hat.  He was a tall, lean man, and quite handsome with a wide, straight smile and the beginnings of little lines that crinkled at the corners of his blue eyes when he smiled
.“I’
m Sheriff Shaw, Walker Creek P.D. Most folks just call me Tate though
,”
he said in a slow drawl that reminded her of her father when he was tired or angry and his accent became thicker.

Kesslyn smiled and extended her hand, relieved to be close to the end of her journey and happy to see an officer of the law. He was younger than Kesslyn would have imagined a Sheriff would be. The man could
n’
t be much older than thirty-five, if that.

“I’
m Kesslyn Walker. Thank you so much for coming to my aid, Sheriff Shaw. My rental car called it quits down the road a bit
.”
She gestured over her shoulder toward the compact vehicle sh
e’
d picked up at the Dallas/Fort Worth International.  

Sheriff Shaw looked a bit stunned as he took her hand
.“
You said your name is Walker? Would you happen to be any relation to Russell Walker
?

Again, the mention of her fathe
r’
s name sent sadness coursing through her. Kesslyn smiled weakly
.“
Russell Walker was my father. He and my mother were both killed in an auto accident a couple of years ago
.

The sherif
f’
s face changed from curious to compassionate
.“
My deepest condolences, m
a’
am. And now both your grandparents are gone.
I’
m so sorry for your loss
.”
Kesslyn could already tell she would like this man. Sincerity shown in his eyes, and an air of upright authority radiated from him.


Thank you, Sheriff Shaw. I miss them both very much. Please, call me Kesslyn. It seems
I’
m going to be around for a while
.”


Of course, Kesslyn.
I’
m sorry to look so surprised. The whole town has been buzzing about the return of Russell, Jr. The news of his passing had
n’
t made it back to Walker Creek
.

That statement gave Kesslyn a pang of guilt. She should have contacted her grandparents directly. Her fathe
r’
s firm had handled all of the legalities for her and arranged most of the funeral arrangements. Her parent
s’
final wishes had been spelled out in their will, so there were
n’
t really any major decisions to be made. Sh
e’
d assumed the
y’
d also be reaching out to her grandfather, but after a thirty year separation, he had
n’
t come to the funeral. She did
n’
t really blame them. It now seemed that her grandparents had passed away without knowing their son was also gone. That explained Mr. Bair
d’
s shock at learning the news. Her grandfathe
r’
s will left everything to her father. Her father had left his entire estate to Kesslyn, so she inherited it all. She did
n’
t want any of it. She just wanted her family back.

The sheriff gently ushered her to the passenger side and opened the door for her before trotting around to the driver side. He hopped in and took her first to her car to get her bags, before beginning the short ride to downtown Walker Creek. It was a quaint little town. Everything was spotless. People milled about Main Street, and judging by the stares as they passed, Kesslyn did
n’
t think anyone had missed the stranger in the sherif
f’
s car.

Her famil
y’
s ranch was on the outskirts of the opposite end of town, and it stretched for miles and miles according to the sheriff. It was weird that the town was named after her family, but the lawyer had explained that the town grew up around the ranch that had been there for generations.

Tate, as he insisted she call him, offered to take Kesslyn straight out to the ranch, but she was
n’
t ready to face it yet. From what Mr. Baird had told her, the main house had
n’
t been uninhabited since the passing of her grandfather. She had no idea what sh
e’
d find out there and it was getting late. The sun was just setting, and all Kesslyn wanted was a hot bath and a decent meal. After calling the local garage to go retrieve her car, Tate dropped her off at the nicer of the two hotels in town.

On the way to the hotel, she saw a hair salon, an ice cream parlor, a gas station, and a general store, and only two red lights. One of the larger houses had a sign by the street proclaiming it a clinic. This was Hometown, USA, for sure. It reminded Kesslyn of Mayberry.

She was grateful to see Notcha Momm
a’
s Diner located directly across the street from the hotel. After checking in and showering off the travel grime, she started to walk over for some dinner, but the neon red sign of Hooligans just down the road caught her eye. She could use a drink, or eight. The heat of the day had kind of turned her stomach. She was used to humidity. Baltimore could be suffocating in the summer, but the level of heat in Texas was something else. Something cold to drink was just what Kesslyn needed.

So there she sat, polishing off her third drink while she tried not to cry. Sh
e’
d had a crap-tastic day. She missed her mom and dad so much, and she really wished they were there to give her some guidance. Her compassionate mother would tell her to go with her heart. Her father would have her reason out why she was so anxious over something she could
n’
t avoid. It had to be dealt with one way or the other. So why avoid it? Why stress over what you ca
n’
t change?

BOOK: Sun Burnt
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