Three

      Myra slowed her car and took a deep breath when she came to the marker for the Golden Glade Ranch. She thought the same thing now that she’d thought when she came this way for her initial interview. Sheriff Pete Higgins’s ranch was simply magnificent.

      It sat on what she figured to be over two hundred acres of land. On one side of the ranch house were rows and rows of pear trees, which fared surprisingly well in Denver’s cold weather. On the other side she saw herds of beautiful horses running in a gated area.

      Inwardly, she asked herself—for the umpteenth time since putting the last piece of her luggage inside the car—if she was making the right move. Now it went beyond just her personal finances. She was dealing with her peace of mind. A part of her had hoped Wallace would call so she could tell him the change of plans. That she’d been hired as a nanny after all. Then she would tell him about her misgivings.