Brad won’t be coming. I’m on my own.” Raw emotion cut across her face and while she set her chin, straightened her shoulders and visibly wrestled it down, her sorrow remained. Sadness that was banked but unmistakably bleak in her violet-blue eyes.
Sympathy eked into him, and he did his best to stop it. No need to feel sorry for the girl who’d gotten everything she wanted. He yanked the refrigerator door open. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”
“Me, too.”
He set his heart against her. He was no longer swayed by her emotions. He felt sorry for her. A failed marriage was nothing to celebrate. But that was as far as he was willing to go. He plunked the pitcher onto the table and went to fetch a glass out of the cupboards. He ought to say something more to fill the silence, but anything he could think to say would make him seem interested in her life.
Hardly. She’d made her decision, and now he made his. She might be thinking she’d settle for her second choice. After all, he was still available, right? Oh, he knew how women thought. They were largely a mystery, but he’d learned a thing or two over the years. The bottom line with them was wanting security, marriage and a man to pay the bills. The bigger the man’s wallet, the better.
He slammed the glasses onto the table with enough force that the clunk reported through the kitchen like a gunshot. He glanced down, surprised that he hadn’t broken them. That was when he realized half of the table was free of foam containers, plastic bags and the plates from lunch. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Clearing a place so we can talk about the job.” Rori calmly set the armful she’d gathered onto the nearest counter, studied him with her steady gaze and backed toward the door. “But now that I see what you really think, I’m going to go. I thought we were adults and what we had was water under the bridge, but I was wrong. I’m sorry, Justin. I really am.”
Uh-oh. His scars were showing, wounds he’d vowed to keep hidden and buried. He hung his head. “Didn’t mean to growl at you.”
“It’s okay. I know you well. Your bark is worse than your bite.”
“I never bite.”
“I’m glad that hasn’t changed.” She gripped the screen door handle.
“You don’t need to go.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you wouldn’t mind me working here?” She’d been the one to leave. She’d broken his heart. That she was here at all showed how desperate she was. She didn’t need to read minds to know what he was debating. She opened the door, fighting to hide her disappointment. “I don’t blame you. I understand.”
“No, wait. Give a fellow the chance to think.” He paced after her, squinting at the sunlight when he joined her on the porch. “I haven’t had time to prepare myself for seeing you again. I need to think this through. You, the interview, it was all sprung on me.”
“I suppose that was your dad’s plan.” She could see that now. Frank had been downright cheerful on the phone when she’d first called. He’d been welcoming earlier that morning in town. And now he’d set them up in the kitchen together. He wanted to give them time alone. Frank had meant well, but this wasn’t what she wanted or Justin, either, judging by the frown carved into his granite features. There was nothing else to do but to leave. She eased down the steps and into the burn of the sun. “Your dad is destined to be disappointed.”
“I think I heard the front door shut.” Justin cocked his head, listening. “Suppose he’s sneaking in through the living room listening in to see if his plan is working?”
“I can’t believe he would do this. Your dad is not a romantic.”
“He always liked you, Rori. He said you were good for me.”
“You were good for me. You were a great boyfriend. I’ll always be grateful for that. We grew up together.”
“Up and away.” He hadn’t forgotten. His face was set, his emotions stone. But had he forgiven?
She didn’t think that was likely. She didn’t blame him. She’d been overwhelmed when he, the quarterback of the football team, had asked her, a freshman, to go to Clem’s after school for shakes. For as long as she had been able to remember, she’d had a crush on Justin Granger. Three years older, he’d been every girl’s wish—smart, kind, strong, funny, popular and drop-dead gorgeous. There had only been one thing she’d wanted more in life than being Justin Granger’s girl—a college education and the chance to study music.
“So, are you back to stay? Or is this a temporary thing?” Justin’s deep voice hid any shades of emotion. Was he fishing for information or was he finally about to say, “I told you so?”
“I will probably go back to teaching in Dallas when fall quarter starts, but things could change. I’ll just have to wait and see.” The things in life she used to think were so important no longer mattered. Standing on her own two feet, building a life for herself, healing her wounds—that meant everything now.
God had given her no other option but to return to her grandparents’ tiny house for the summer. She had to think He had a purpose in bringing her here. One of her favorite verses was from Jeremiah. For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.
“And this man you married?” he asked. “Did he leave you, or did you leave him?”
“He threw me out.” She adjusted her baseball cap brim and waited for Justin’s reaction. Surely a man with that severe a frown on his face was about to take delight in the irony. She’d turned down Justin’s love, and her husband of five years had thrown away hers. If she were Justin, she would want her off his land.
“You were nothing but honest with me back then.” He leaned against the railing, the wind raking his dark hair, and a different emotion passed across his hard countenance. “I was the one who never listened. I loved you so much back then, I don’t think I could hear anything but what I wanted.”
“I loved you, too. I wish I could have been different for you.” Helpless, she took another step toward the driveway. She didn’t know how to thank him. He could be treating her a whole lot worse right now, and she would deserve it. “Goodbye, Justin.”
“I suppose you need a job?” he called out from the railing, casually concerned.
“I’ll figure out something.” Needed a job? No, she was frantic for one.
How did she tell him the truth? That she’d been given enough money for a bus ride home. That she’d never thought twice about letting her husband handle the money, or the fact that he’d cleaned out the bank accounts and cancelled her cards before he’d replaced her with his plastic-surgery-enhanced receptionist.
“I haven’t had a chance to get that shoe back on Copper,” he called out.
“Gramps can do it tonight.” Probably. If not, she could always call in the farrier. Costly, but it had to be done.
“Tell you what? You stay and round us up some decent supper, and I’ll take care of your horse.” Justin loped down the steps, his long-legged stride eating up the distance between them. “That will be the interview. If the food is edible, then as far as I’m concerned the job
