could change,” came the soft reply, “if you want it to.”
“If only Cade didn’t have such a soft spot for stray things,” Abby said, her eyes wistful. “I never know what he really feels—I never have. He was sorry for me when I was a kid and, in a way, he still is. I don’t want a man who pities me, Melly.”
“How do you know that Cade does? You’re a lovely woman.”
“A woman with a very big problem,” Abby reminded her, “and Cade goes out of his way to help people, you know that. We go back a long way and he’s fond of me. How can I be sure that what he feels isn’t just compassion, Melly?”
“Give it time and find out.”
“That,” she said with a sigh, “is sage advice. By the way, you’re going to have to teach me how to do your job, because he’s already maneuvered me into replacing you while you’re on your honeymoon.”
“Oh, he has, has he?” Melly pursed her lips and her eyes laughed. “That isn’t something he’d do if he really felt sorry for you!” she assured her sister.
“Now cut that out! Here, tell me if you like the dress better with a long train or a short one....”
And for the rest of the night, they concentrated on the wedding gown.
In the days that followed, Abby learned more about the logistics of roundup on Painted Ridge than she wanted to. The whole ranch suddenly revolved around preparations for it. There were supplies to get in, men to hire and add to the weekly payroll. And at the head of it all was Cade, mapping out strategy, tossing out orders as he organized everything from the butane for the torches they used to heat the branding irons to ear tags. At the same time, he was involved with roundup on the other two ranches he had interests in, and in between were cattle auctions, board meetings and a rushed trip to New York to discuss his corporation’s plans to buy a feedlot in Oklahoma.
Abby couldn’t help thinking how sexy Cade looked in his pale gray suit with matching boots and Stetson when he came downstairs with his suitcase in his hand.
“Well, I guess I’m ready,” he grumbled, heading toward the front door. Hank was waiting impatiently outside in the truck.
“You really need something snazzier than a pickup truck to ride to the airport in,” Abby remarked with a smile. “You look very sophisticated.”
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