She sits down on the trunk of a fallen tree and pats the spot next to her for Casey to sit down. He sits and she gets up to reach into the saddle bag ...n her horse. Pulling out a couple of bottles, she hands one to him and explains, “Bart put them in before we left. It’s part of the experience here at the ranch.”“I see that,” Casey says almost smartly. “It’s like we’re being catered to. I wonder if all the guests get the same treatment.”“We’re the only guests,” she says, frowning at him. “It’s. “Yes. What do you have?” One thing that had always irritated me was Faith’s accent. I didn’t have one, but she did, as well as our sister, Alyssa, and our mother. I thought it was a southern accent. I don’t know how many times they corrected me, claiming it was southern belle.I looked in the fridge. Katrina was really good at keeping our place stocked with food, and she didn’t skimp when it came to a variety of drinks. “Water, tea, orange juice, Vodka mixers, the usual...”Faith studied my face.. More

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