to the edge of the parking lot. When she faced this direction, there were no lights from town to diminish the night sky. The stars exploded across the darkness, layer upon layer of cosmic insanity.
Usually the sky out here took her breath away. Tonight it just made her nervous. Because it reminded her, the way Tyler had, that in the grand scheme of things, she was nothing.
When Arch told her he didn’t want her after all, he’d broken her heart. But at least she’d had her work. A place where she felt she mattered. Now she knew that wasn’t true. The boss she’d worked so hard for had sold the business without a word to her. Under this vastness of stars she was a speck of dust, adrift and floating around this piece of the planet that once felt like home.
Stuck here, belonging nowhere.
Jealousy hit hot despite the cool air. What was it like to be Tyler Ellis? Born and raised in a wealthy ranching family, talented enough to achieve the highest level of his chosen sport. Now sauntering into town with enough money to buy a business that should have been her business.
Ha. Her business in another world, maybe. She was a Hayes. Permanently poor. Born and raised to work for the Ellis family, just like her daddy had.
If she worked for Tyler, would he screw her over, too? Like his father had cheated hers? Probably. Only he’d do it with a sugar coating of cowboy grin and flattering words, because people like Tyler thought the whole world was there just for them.
And why not? Because it was right there for them, waiting at their fingertips. While people like Kit were destined to watch their dreams, slippery as trout in a Sierra stream, wriggle right out of their grasping hands.
KIT PARKED HER Jeep in the lot in front of the Dusty Saddle. It was early on Tuesday morning, but Chris usually came in about now. She walked to the bar door, shoving it open. “Anybody here?” she called out in the quiet bar.
“We’re closed!” Her boss’s voice came from the small office to her left.
“It’s Kit,” she replied.
“Kitto! What’s up?” Chris appeared, his sweatpants and I’d Rather Be Fishing T-shirt advertising his readiness for retirement. “You’re not on today, right? Did I misread the schedule?”
“It’s my day off, but I was hoping you’d have a minute to talk.”
“Sure. Grab a seat.” He indicated the empty tables she’d polished last night.
Kit picked the closest one and sat, trying to ignore the way her heart seemed to rise and stick like a lump of dough in her throat. They’d worked together for almost a decade, and it hit her that she wasn’t just losing the chance to own the Dusty Saddle. She was losing a boss she’d loved. She cleared her throat. “I heard the news. About you selling the bar.”
Chris plopped down heavily, his bulky frame dwarfing the chair. “How? I meant to tell you myself.”
“Tyler came in last night. Drunk. He told me.”
Chris folded his worn hands on the table and huffed out a sigh. “I’m sorry you found out that way. I figured he’d have the sense to check with me before talking to any of my employees.”
“Well, he was beyond sense last night. Celebrating his purchase, I guess. I threw him out.”
That gave Chris pause. “You threw out the new owner?”
“He hadn’t told me he was the new owner yet. And he was giving me a hard time.” Seeing the look of alarm on Chris’s face, she tried to reassure him. “We knew each other really well growing up. I don’t think he’ll be too upset about it. Plus, he deserved it.”
The relief on his ruddy face showed how much Chris wanted this deal to go through. But maybe it hadn’t gone through yet, which meant there might still be hope for her. Kit remembered the opening she’d practiced earlier. “So you’re retiring?”
His shy smile was a surprise. “Yup. I’m finally doing it. Gonna spend my days fishing and my nights watching the stars. I’ve had a good run here—owned this bar for over twenty years. I’ve enjoyed it, but I don’t want to spend another minute of my life behind the bar.”
“Congratulations,” Kit said. And wanted to mean it. He owed her nothing, so why did she feel betrayed? “Is it a done deal? I mean, are the papers signed and all that?”
“Yup, they are,” Chris said. “About a month ago.”
“A month ago,” she repeated. Her disappointment was edged in nausea.
He must have seen her distress because he leaned forward to take her hand. “Hey, it’ll be fine. Tyler will do a great job.”
“But why didn’t you tell me this was going on?” She wouldn’t cry, even though tears were hot under her eyes.
“I didn’t want some big fuss. I didn’t think you’d be this upset.” He let go of her hand and leaned back, suddenly looking all of his sixtysomething years. “I’m out of here at the end of the week.”
“You mean—” she somehow resisted the urge to whack him upside the head “—you’re only giving us a few days’ notice?”
“I know you.” Chris grinned suddenly, as if delighted with this part of his deception. “You’d want to throw me some big old party where the regulars would get all drunk and weepy on me. And that’s not my style. I’d rather just grab my tackle box and go.”
Kit studied him, making sure he meant it. “Fine. Though you’re missing out. I plan good parties.”
“So I’ve heard. And seen, when my staff stumbled in the next day.”
Disappointment and loss combined, overriding her efforts to hold back her tears. “We’re going to miss you so much.”
Chris brushed the sentiment off, of course. “Hell, he’s Tyler Ellis. Big rodeo champion. I figured you’d all be over the moon to work for a guy like that.”
“I guess I’d been hoping to buy the bar myself, if you retired,” she admitted.
He looked at her sharply. “You never said.”
“You never said you were planning on retiring anytime soon.” There it was, that note of accusation she’d planned to avoid.
“I guess I assumed you wouldn’t be interested. Because...” Chris stopped, so she finished for him.
“Because I wouldn’t have the money?”
“Well, I know you’ve been taking care of your daddy lately. It’s a big responsibility.”
“I’ve been saving. And maybe the bank would have helped me.”
“Maybe,” Chris said, but she could hear the doubt. She must seem like an idiot. Like she’d been hoping for a handout.
Her voice
