memory replaced by a tall beauty. Addison frowned, wrinkling her perfect complexion. “Justin looks down on kitchen work.”
“He does, and it’s our job to keep him in line,” Autumn added with a wink.
What Rori wanted to do was to get out of the house before Justin walked in. Not that she felt compelled to avoid him, but her dignity was bruised. He pitied her. No doubt, that wouldn’t change. She grabbed her ball cap from the hat hooks by the back door. “Thanks. Have a good evening, everyone.”
She slipped outside listening to the three Grangers at the table call out their goodbyes to her. The sunlight had tempered, the blazing heat kicked down a notch to hint at a beautiful early summer evening. She hopped down the steps and hurried across the lawn, the grass fragrant beneath her flip-flops.
The hills, the stretch of the high prairie and the rim of the breathtaking Tetons in the distance surrounded her. She trudged toward the barn, keeping a lookout for Justin. Best to avoid him if she could. That wouldn’t always be possible now that Frank had offered her the job, but it was likely. Justin had changed, and she hated to think she had played a hand in that.
What I would give to go back and do it over again, she thought, half prayer, half impossible wish. If she could turn back time, she never would have accepted his offer for their first fateful milkshake together. She would never have trusted or married Brad.
“Rori!”
She heard the wind carry her name. Through the lush green fields she saw Justin in the knee-high grasses, his hat shading his face and a gloved hand raised up to her. More than distance separated them. She waved back, hurrying to the barn, and freed Copper from a stall. The white-muzzled gelding nickered a warm welcome and pressed his face in her hands with unmistakable affection.
Warmth filled her—emotions she’d been battling since she’d come home. Copper’s steadfast friendship, the sweet-scented grass and the earthy hint of dust in the air, the endless blue skies, it all overwhelmed her. Life may have led her away but her roots remained deep in this land. The days of long ago felt so close she could almost hear them. The sound of the radio in Dad’s truck, running up the back steps to the whir of Mama’s mixer in the kitchen, the carefree head toss Copper used to greet her with when he was young, bounding up to the fence.
“I missed you, too, old buddy.” She leaned her forehead to his, her best friend. “C’mon. Let’s ride home.”
By the time she’d saddled and bridled him and mounted up, the yard was empty of all signs of Justin. He was probably inside finishing up the chili and corn-bread she’d made. Maybe he was seated at the table and facing the windows overlooking the backyard and the mountain view.
Was he watching her now? she wondered as she reined Copper toward the driveway. Or was he doing his best to avoid her? She sat straight in the saddle, glad when the curving road took her out of sight. It was sad how much had changed between them, when they had once been so close.
Of course, that was her fault, plain and simple. She drew her cap brim over her eyes and, squinting into the light, rode the low rays of the sun home.
“How is Wildflower?”
Autumn’s question came from as if far away. Justin shoveled a steaming spoonful of chili into his mouth, hardly feeling the burn on his tongue. He grabbed a nearby glass, gulped down some milk to put out the fire, and realized everyone in the kitchen was staring at him. Addison struggled to hide a grin.
“Seems he’s got something important on his mind, girls.” Frank, grabbing a cookie from the stash they’d bought from Clem’s, couldn’t look happier. “Looks like Autumn had better ask her question again.”
Justin cleared his throat. He was in no mood for ribbing, however well-intentioned. “Wildflower is fine. She’s close to her time.”
“Too bad Cheyenne isn’t back from school yet. I reckon she’d like to be there when her mare foals.” Frank grabbed his root beer off the table. “The Mariners are on. Anyone going to join me?”
“I will.” Addison bounded up from the table, still coltish and energetic, her strawberry-blond ponytail bobbing. “Are you comin’, Autumn?”
“No, I’m going to go sit with the mares and leave Justin with the dishes.” His oldest little sister seemed pretty pleased with herself, too. “Have fun, brother dearest. I know what you think of housework.”
“I don’t have a bad opinion about housework,” he argued. He had more outside work than he could get done in a day, the last thing he needed was more. “I just don’t want to do it.”
“Sure. We wouldn’t want you to demean yourself,” Addison joked.
“Not our brother.” Grinning at him, Autumn stole her Stetson off the wall hook. “I don’t know how you turned out to be so grumpy. You must have gotten a bad gene. It’s a shame, really.”
“A terrible shame,” Addison agreed from the counter, where she was helping herself to a cookie. “Is it my imagination, or is he grumpier tonight?”
“He’s definitely grumpier,” Autumn agreed. “Let’s hope his mood improves.”
“Or it’s going to be a long summer,” Addison predicted, backing out of the room to join their dad. The TV droned to life in the next room.
“It will be a longer summer if you two don’t knock it off.” He scowled over another spoonful of chili. “Or else.”
“Yeah, like we’re scared.” Autumn plopped her hat onto her head. “You’re all bark, Justin.”
“You never know. One day I might change.”
“I’m not worried.” She stole a cookie from the counter, too. “I’ve known you all my life. You’re one of the good guys.”
“Yeah? Haven’t you heard? Good guys finish last.”
“You’re thinking of Rori?” She nibbled on the edge of the cookie. “What happened to her? She looks so sad. Is there something I should know? Her grandparents are all right, aren’t they?”
“Rori didn’t say Del and Polly were having health problems.”
“Just checking.” Autumn said nothing more, waiting a beat before she padded through the door, but what she hadn’t said lingered more loudly than if she’d uttered the words.
Rori wasn’t all right. She was hurting. Regardless of what he’d come to think about her and women like her, he didn’t like that. Not at all.
Blurry-eyed, Rori bounded through the early morning kitchen, eyes glued to the coffeemaker in the corner. Thank heavens it was chugging away. The smell of caffeine lured her straight to the counter.
“Good mornin’, Pumpkin.” Gram’s voice startled her. There was a clang of a pot at the stove. “Aren’t you up early?”
“This isn’t early. This is still technically nighttime.” Dawn was a light haze at the rim of the dark world. “Do you get up every morning like this?”
“Early to bed, early to rise.”
“That’s
