“Let me do it.”
“Still as stubborn as ever.”
“Are you talking about me or the horse?”
“Hard to say. Right now the both of you are giving me a headache.” His grin belied his words.
She touched Copper’s pastern, and the gelding obliged by lifting his hoof.
“That’s more like it.” Justin fell silent, head bent as he edged the screwdriver beneath a bent nail head and gave it a good tap with the pliers.
It didn’t look as if he was going to relinquish the job. She scooped up the roll of tape he’d left on the pavement. It was hard to believe after all this time she was face-to-face with him. What were the chances she would run into him on her first trip into town? And it wasn’t fair. She hadn’t been prepared. She hadn’t been back for more than a few days, and here he was in real life—not a dream or a memory—his ruggedly handsome face as emotionless as granite.
Time had been good to him. The old affection she’d once felt was like a light going on in her battered heart. Not that she loved Justin—no, there was no chance of that now and he would never feel that way about her again.
So, maybe it wasn’t old affection she felt. Lord, let this be simply a touch of nostalgia. At least, she could pray it was so.
She studied the rugged cut of Justin’s profile, the shock of dark hair spilling over his forehead, the straight slope of his nose and the spare line of his lips. Familiar and dear, but time had changed him, too. It had matured his face, sculpted hollows into his cheeks and fine lines in the corners of his eyes. His shoulders had broadened, he was a man in his prime and looked every inch of it.
With a few yanks, he pulled the last nail out of Copper’s hoof and the horseshoe clattered to the pavement.
He plucked the tape from her fingers without meeting her gaze. He tore off a few strips and expertly lined them along the edge of Copper’s hoof, working quick but competently, still an accomplished ranchman. There was something about Justin’s combination of down-to-earth country, stoic strength and capability she would always admire.
“That ought to get you two home. Just go slow. No galloping.” He lowered Copper’s hoof to the ground and retrieved the shoe. “Want me to put this in the saddle pack?”
“Sure.” The wind gusted in a hot airless puff, stirring leaves in the aspens that marched down the sidewalks. A dust devil whirled a thick funnel in the feed store’s lot, giving her an excuse to look down the main street. The sidewalks were as empty as the road. Way down at the far end of town, the distant sound of kids’ voices rose from the drive-in, known for its selection of ice cream.
What did she say to him? He didn’t seem concerned about the silence as he unbuckled the pack slung behind the saddle and slid the shoe into it.
“Grocery shopping?” His brow furrowed as he inspected the pack’s contents. “Wouldn’t it have been quicker to drive?”
Okay, this was even more awkward. She felt the weight of his gaze searching her face for signs. Maybe he was noticing the discount-store T-shirt, the denim shorts she wore and the inexpensive flip-flops on her feet. Knowing how small-town rumors went, he was probably curious where her luxury sports car was and her designer clothes. Maybe even her wedding ring.
Humiliation swept through her. Likely as not he was holding back an “I told you so.” Maybe he was waiting to hear that the life she’d left Wyoming to find after graduation had not turned out better, just different. And the man who’d taken her to the opera and symphony hadn’t compared to the one she’d left behind.
“I suppose you miss riding.” He filled the silence without a hint of an “I told you so.”
“Something like that.” She lifted her chin, wiser these days and stronger than she ever could have guessed, even if her knees were wobbly when she went to untie Copper from the hitching post. “I haven’t been in a saddle for so long, I almost forgot what to do.”
“You didn’t have a horse boarded somewhere in Dallas?” A hint of surprise dug into the corners of his mouth.
“No.” Life was like that. She’d wanted a horse; Brad had said it would be an outrageous expense they couldn’t afford. Things simply hadn’t worked out. She knew God was in charge, taking her where He thought she should be. “Besides, I still have Copper. How about you? Still riding Scout?”
“Now and then. He’s retired from ranch work these days.”
“You must miss him.”
“Work isn’t the same without him. I didn’t know you were coming back for Terri’s wedding.”
“Coming home was a last-minute decision.” She gathered Copper’s reins and drew him away from the post. It was easier to concentrate on rubbing his nose than on meeting Justin’s gaze. She didn’t want her old beau to know how wrong she’d been and how stupid. A country girl like her hadn’t suspected Brad’s duplicity until it was too late.
“Hope you have a nice stay in town.” He tipped his hat, walking backward. A gentleman, for he could have vented his anger at her, he could have asked questions about her life she did not want to answer, things she did not want him to know. He could have brought up how she’d hurt him and that would have torn at her conscience, but he didn’t. He squared his shoulders, nodded goodbye and ambled away, tools and tape in hand.
Lost chances. They troubled her as she slipped off her flip-flops and stowed them in the pack. You chose a path in life and you followed it. You never knew if it would take you where you wanted to go. You just had to trust, even if the choice had been a mistake. She never would have guessed the road she’d followed would have led her back home, full circle, standing right where she’d started.
Copper blew out his breath impatiently, as if to remind her that time was wasting. The sun bore down on her, and the blacktop sizzled beneath her feet. She swung into the saddle, ignoring the burn of hot leather, and reined Copper toward the edge of town.
At least that was over. Meeting Justin. Recovering from the shock of seeing him again. Her palms went damp, and it wasn’t from the midday heat. She wished she could rewind, hit delete and replay the past few moments. She should have apologized to him. She should have asked how he’d been. She should have explained that the reason she’d come back wasn’t only to attend Terri’s wedding, although she had planned on going.
“I hadn’t been prepared to see him so soon,” she explained.
Copper shook his head, plodding along the strip of Main reserved for parking, a totally understanding friend. She rubbed her free hand along his warm neck, his coarse mane tickling the backs of her fingers. She’d been reconciled to the idea of seeing Justin later today at the ranch, where he would probably be busy in the fields. She hadn’t been prepared to talk with him, to look him in the eyes and see how much bitterness had taken him over.
She still owed him an apology. She didn’t intend to shirk from it. As a Wyoming girl, she knew how to stand up and take a hit on the chin.
The front door of the diner swung shut. A new neon blue and yellow sign proclaimed the establishment to be The Greasy Spoon, but everyone called it Clem’s. Clem had initially run the place beginning with the First World War, when he’d bought the building new. He’d made the
