the first time since running away, she didn’t feel alone.
Chapter Seven
Randi stretched and rolled over to look at the clock. It was nearly one in the afternoon. She would feel decadent at being in bed this late in the day if she hadn’t already worked six hours in the barn. Her late-morning nap was what allowed her to stay up until ten at night and still be able to function at four in the morning.
She’d been at the ranch three weeks today. It was the longest she’d been anywhere since leaving Grand Springs. Before, she’d always felt a restlessness after a few days, a nagging sensation that she had to keep moving. It was the only way to feel safe. But here that wasn’t necessary. If anything, she was going to have to force herself to press on. It would be far too easy to make this a permanent home.
She stood up and reached for her clothes. After slipping on jeans, a T-shirt and boots, she walked into the bathroom to wash her face and tame her hair. As usual, the braid looked tidy for about thirty seconds before the curls worked their way loose.
She went downstairs, then stepped outside to head for the barn. The men came in for their midday meal around eleven-thirty. Tex packed a lunch for anyone working too far away. For the first couple of days, she’d joined the cowboys, but she’d found it difficult not to nod off during the meal. Tex had taken pity on her and offered to keep a plate warm until the early afternoon.
Peter, the littlest kitten, sat on the porch railing. When he saw her, he meowed.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, and picked him up. He curled against her shoulder and began to purr. “Is Princess taking the afternoon off? Or did you sneak away from her?”
Usually Princess herded her charges into the shade of the barn for their afternoon nap. Playtime didn’t start until around four.
“You want to join me for lunch?” she asked the kitten. “I bet Tex would give you a treat.”
The kitten kneaded her shoulder, his eyes closed in contentment.
She walked into the dining room, crossed the linoleum floor and moved toward the kitchen. Tex sat at the small table in front of the window. There was a mug of coffee in front of him, along with a slice of strawberry pie. Across from him was a single place setting. Two sandwiches under plastic wrap, a green salad, some cut-up raw vegetables.
She set Peter on the floor, then headed for the refrigerator. After grabbing the pitcher of cold water on the top shelf, and a bowl with a single, albeit generous, serving of potato salad, she walked to the table and took her seat.
Tex looked up from the paper he read. “‘Afternoon.”
“Hi.” She glanced at her plate, then at him. “Tuna sandwiches and raw veggies? Why do I know you didn’t feed the guys that?”
He grinned. “Five-alarm chili. I didn’t think you’d want any.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach, remembering pain from the last time she’d indulged. There weren’t many things that upset her stomach, but that was one of them. “While I appreciate the thoughtfulness, you didn’t have to make me a special lunch.”
He shrugged. “No bother.”
“You guys are all alike. Tough on the outside, and complete marshmallows on the inside.”
Peter stood up on his hind legs and pressed his front paws against Tex’s shin. The kitten meowed plaintively. “Damn cat,” the former marine muttered as he picked him up and set him in the crook of his arm.
Randi spread her napkin on her lap and laughed. “I believe that proves my point.”
“Uh-huh.”
She unwrapped her sandwiches and pulled the cover off the potato salad. “Tell me about this dance Saturday. Do you go?”
“Sure. Everyone’s there.” The older man grinned. “They’ll dance your feet off.”
“Fortunately I bought comfortable shoes when I was in town yesterday.”
Tex frowned. “You two thought I didn’t know you stopped for ice cream, but I could tell.”
Randi had raised the fork halfway to her mouth. She froze. “How’d you figure that out?”
“You both looked so damned guilty. Like kids caught stealing from the cookie jar. I hope you had a bellyache from all the supper you ate, hoping I wouldn’t notice.”
“Sorry, no.” She chewed the potato salad and swallowed. “I have the most unladylike appetite. At least that’s what my mother always told me. She ate little tiny portions of everything. It made me crazy. I can stand just about anything but being hungry. Heaven help me if I ever have to go on a diet.”
“You’re strong. All that muscle needs fuel.”
“A nice way of saying I’d never make it as a model.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Why indeed.” She thought about Brady. About how he’d made her heart beat faster and her stomach quiver with nerves. What kind of woman did he find attractive? Skinny blondes with big boobs? Sultry redheads? She doubted he had a thing for sturdy women with uncontrollably curly hair. Just once she would like someone to think she was pretty. Her father had been kind and generous with compliments, but they hadn’t been enough to counteract her mother’s brutal honesty.
She still remembered dressing for a dance when she was sixteen. She hadn’t wanted to go, but her mother had arranged for a friend’s son to be her escort. A mercy date. She’d been standing in front of her mirror, trying to convince herself she didn’t look horrible when she’d heard her parents in the hall. Her father had been excited about taking her picture, but her mother had stopped him.
“She’s nothing to look at. Why do you want to remember that?”
“She’s my daughter,” her father had protested. “She’s beautiful.”
“Oh, please. Randi’s plain at best. That hair. I’m at my wit’s end with it. At least she has decent skin. With those features, if she had blemishes, too, we’d have to put a bag over her head.”
Eight years later, the words still hurt. She knew she wasn’t pretty, but she’d come to grips with that. Some days she thought she was actually okay-looking. Time had taught her that her mother’s overly critical remarks had little to do with physical appearance and more to do with the older woman’s general dissatisfaction that her daughter wasn’t a perfect clone. The two of them had nothing in common, save a blood relationship.
“You gonna eat that, or are you just going to stare at it?” Tex asked.
Randi glanced down and realized she was holding half a sandwich in her hands, but hadn’t taken a bite. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“Judging from the look in your eyes, somewhere far away.”
She glanced at the cook. “Sometimes you’re too observant, Tex.”
He
