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I nstead of dragging the long steel gate open, Adam vaulted it, taking care not to slip and end up saddling the hard metal — that wouldn’t feel good.

Although he was earlier than he thought he’d be, it was still late, and Clara Mae had most certainly seen Lala’s Blazer. He’d been so excited to leave with Claire that he hadn’t considered moving it.

He hotfooted toward the house — never smart to run across an Alaskan ranch or any stretch of unknown land at night. One misstep equaled a twisted ankle or worse.

A throat cleared near him, stopping Adam in his tracks.

Then came a soft click — and Adam’s heart pounded, again. But instead of gunfire, the click was followed by a bright beam of light aimed directly at his face.

Adam held his hands to his forehead, hoping the gesture would serve two-fold: block the onslaught of light and show he was unarmed.

Waiting, he silently prayed the next sound he heard wasn’t the rat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun.

Adam blinked a few times, but didn’t chance moving.

“You’re early, kid.”

“Rusty,” Adam exhaled the man’s name. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

Rusty laughed. “ Bejesus ? Kid, how old are you?”

Adam gulped. “Eighteen.”

“Ain’t no way on God’s green earth you’re eighteen. Unless you were abducted by one of those alien spaceships back in Leave it to Beaver days, then dropped in my time.”

“Hah!” Adam’s vision cleared enough to see Rusty on the back of the Haulster.

One hand held the heavy-duty rubber flashlight, the other gripped a rifle.

His long hair, usually pulled back in a ponytail, hung around his shoulders.

Sleek and shiny, like he’d just washed and blow-dried it, Adam thought about making a joke that he looked like one of Charlie’s Angels .

Since the man had been so gracious, he decided against the jab. No sense pushing his luck.

Rusty nodded toward the long road where Claire’s taillights had just vanished. “You weren’t kidding about being a gentleman with good intentions.”

“Scout’s honor,” Adam said, trying not to smile.

Rusty snorted. “You’re lucky Clara Mae likes you. She was fired up. Took me ten minutes and half a pot of coffee to calm her down. Now, you gotta do me a favor.”

Adam walked over to the rig. “Anything, man.”

Rusty hopped off the back. “Get in. We’re gonna go see Clara Mae. Since you know Boyd, you’re gonna help get his ass thrown out of here. His attack on Claire was the last straw.”

Adam slid onto the bench seat, the vinyl stiff and creaky beneath him. “With pleasure.”

Rusty climbed into the driver’s side, set the rifle between them, and turned the key.

The beast roared to life like a lion disturbed from sleep.

Rusty thrust the gear into first, and the cart popped forward like the lion was ready to charge across the African plains.

But the old thing was all roar and no action.

It rumbled and dipped over the gravel road, creaking as it moved at a snail’s pace.

“I can crawl faster than this thing!” Adam shouted over the peal of the engine.

Rusty shook his head, eyeing Adam. “Yeah, but a bear or wolf won’t come within a hundred yards of this beast. And you can’t outrun a bear, kid.” Rusty touched the gun resting between them. “Where’s your gun?”

Adam twisted his mouth. “Don’t have one.

” He’d never been a good liar. The second Rusty asked where his gun was, the .

38 buried in his backpack popped into his head.

Technically, it wasn’t his gun; it was his father’s.

But his prints were on it, and that gun had brought down several men.

He’d be a goner if the police hooked him up to a lie detector. He had to get rid of that gun.

“Kid,” Rusty said, shaking his head. “Clara Mae says you got brains and boots , born right here in Alaska. But any Alaskan-bred moron over the age of eight knows better than to step outside after dark without a high-powered gun on their back.”

Adam stayed quiet as the Haulster bobbed its way to the house.

Parking outside Clara Mae’s door, Rusty lifted the rifle, snatched up the flashlight, and hopped out.

Adam followed at a quick pace but held position at the man’s five o’clock. Seemed safer if Clara Mae’s anger had boiled over since Rusty last plied her with coffee.

The front door swung open, and there was Clara Mae’s double barrels again.

Yeah, Adam’s father taught him to always have a gun handy, but these folks seemed to go a bit overboard. Had the machine-gun-carrying drug dealers visited them at midnight, too?

Sheesh !

Rusty shook his head. You can drop the fire broomstick, Clara Mae. You knew I was out there, watchin’ your ranch.”

Clara Mae allowed the shotgun to rest at her side, but then jutted her chin toward Adam. “Come on up here, boy.” She turned and stomped into the foyer, kicking off her boots. “Give ’em an inch, they want the acre,” she grumbled beneath her breath as she pounded up the steps.

Rusty shook his head then pointed a finger at his temple, rotating it to indicate Clara Mae was crazy.

Adam covered his mouth to keep from laughing, and Rusty side-eyed him, but then winked.

When Clara Mae went inside ahead of them, Rusty turned back to him. “She’s actually not a mean old gal. As you’d imagine, running a ranch full of misfits requires her to be tough.”

Adam lifted his hands in surrender. “Clara Mae’s totally cool!

I met her years ago with my dad. That’s why I came here…

because my parents died.” Adam had confided in Rusty about Claire, but no way was he gonna bring up what happened with the drug dealers.

He could kick himself for even bringing it up with Claire.

He’d been slap-happy was his best excuse.

He seriously needed to get some sleep tonight.

Rusty tilted his head. “Who was your dad?”

Adam gulped. Again, he’d probably said too much. If Clara Mae wanted the other hands to know who he was, she would have told them.

The door above them swung open. “You young’uns coming? I ain’t got all night.”

Rusty turned back to him. “Like you said… totally cool , but don’t cross that woman.” He tromped up the steps.

Adam kept up with him. No way would he fall behind, bringing out Clara Mae’s ire any more than it already was.

Three people had called him smart in the last few days, but Adam disagreed.

If he had the sense God gave a goose — as his mother often said about the Belgarde men — he would have accepted Claire’s request to go out…

after he’d cleared it with Clara Mae, and after he’d gotten more than a few hours of sleep.

Adam hung his head as he walked into the woman’s house.

Clara Mae pulled out a chair at the head of the table.

“Don’t you come in here lookin’ like a whooped dog.

I ain’t even whooped you yet. Let me turn my snake gun on ya an’ you’ll know whooped .

Sit down at the end there, an’ act like a man.

Tell me why you disrespected me the very next day after I allowed you on my ranch. ”

Rusty walked past Clara Mae into the kitchen but turned back and did the finger rolling again.

“Rusty!” Clara Mae barked. “I gotta mirror right in front of me. You wanna get on my bad side next?” She turned in the seat, raising a hand at him.

“Last I recall, this young man asked for your permission, and you saw fit to break my ranch rule — as if you haven’t broken that rule harder than anyone ever has.

” She swung back to Adam. “Don’t think ’cause Rusty said it was all right for you to go out with one of my customers that you ain’t in trouble. ”

The room fell silent for only a moment before Rusty said, “Coffee, Clara Mae?”

Clara Mae shifted her eyes upward. “Is the pope Catholic?”

Adam bit down on his lip so he wouldn’t laugh. His father thought his mother was tough on him. He couldn’t imagine Clara Mae as a mother or wife. Then again, he’d seen Clara Mae’s soft side with him and Peter, and even his father.

Clara Mae drummed her fingers on the table. “So… Tell me, boy. What’s the deal with you and Claire?”

“No deal, Ma’am. We’ve just known each other since kindergarten.”

“Don’t you mean you knew her since she was in kindergarten? You would have been in second grade when Claire started school. Tell me, when you were in high school, were you messing around with a girl in grade school?”

Rusty choked. “Clara Mae, he’s just a kid.”

Clara Mae drilled Adam. “I asked you a question, boy. What’s your relationship with Claire.”

“I’m in love with her, Ma’am. I’ve been in love with her as long as I can remember.”

The woman sighed. “Are you now? And pray tell, what do you plan to tell Esmerelda?”

“Esme… Lala,” he remembered. Until Clara Mae had referred to Thomas’s girlfriend as Esmerelda, Adam had never heard her called that before. But Thomas hadn’t seen Lala in nearly two years, so why did everyone refer to her as his girlfriend? “Last I heard, Lala is dating Roger.”

Rusty choked on his own breath again.

Clara Mae cleared her throat. “Listen, kid. Esmerelda’s a bit…

spoiled. Her daddy — her real daddy — he’s kind of a big deal where she comes from.

Her mother sent her up here when her stepfather threatened to send her to a home for troubled teens, or worse, her real father’s home.

” She sighed. “The girl’s okay and all, if you know how to handle her, but…

You don’t want to get on her bad side because she’s Daddy’s little girl , and he don’t know anything other than buying his daughter’s affections.

” Clara Mae lowered her body across the table.

“Remember when I told you that when you and your dad came visiting a couple of years back?”

Adam leaned back as far as the chair allowed. Now he understood Clara Mae’s comment yesterday not to mess around with that girl . “You did.”