Reunion in the Desert by L. A. Keller



Here's a snippet of my recently released short story. This was my first venture into writing short story romance and my first time participating in a share series event.  I found it difficult to write a complete story in only a few thousand words.  If time allows, I may try another - if Jayne's third book is finished first!

You can read the full short story on Kindle. It's available in EBook only.

Reunion in the Desert


Whoever first said “It’s a dry heat” was crazy Dani thought as she slid onto the scorching seat of the rental car, careful not to touch any metal surfaces. She wondered why anyone ever thought leather seats were a good idea when the Phoenix temperature could easily hit one hundred and fifteen degrees in summer. Her friends back in New York City complained all summer long about the heat but she knew they’d never been sitting in rush hour without air conditioning when you could fry an egg on the pavement.

It had been an especially long four hour flight from the Newark airport and a migraine pounded between her eyes. She booked the trip on impulse to see her grandmother, Roz the one person to whom she could always turn in times of great joy or need.

She set the air conditioner on high and put the windows down to blow out some of the hot air. Her stomach churned and sweat made her designer t-shirt cling to her back like a second skin. Dani hadn’t been back to the eastern area of Scottsdale, known as Rio Verde since her grandfather’s passing last year. So much had happened in her life, both good and bad. She wasn’t sure if she was running away from New York as much as she was running to the place she knew as home. The last year with a man she had idealized had left her wounded, physically and mentally.

The Fisher family ranch was surrounded by the Tonto National Forest. Passed down through generations, their land extended to the Verde River which flowed southward until it became the more famous Salt River. She sighed at the memory of how the water would lull her to sleep on a hot summer afternoon under the old Desert Willow.

Exhausted from the long trip across the country and over eight miles of bumpy dirt road, she paused a moment after she pulled into the driveway. The original house built in the sixties was made of Adobe brick. Multiple additions stuck out in every direction of mismatched stone, brick and siding and were almost overtaken by native plant life.  Mesquite trees towered over the rolled tile roof. Her view of the back of the property, where once she watched her grandfather train horses for the rodeo, was blocked by massive yellow Oleander bushes which stretched their spindly leaves in every direction.


Happy Trails,
Leslie

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