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 is yours. It’s really up to my dad.”
“Really?”
“I’ll hardly be around most of the summer anyway. You know how it is. Long hours on the range.”
“You’re agreeing because you’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”
“Discount-store clothes a size too large—probably your grandmother’s. Am I right?”
Rori ignored the sting of her pride. The plain yellow T-shirt was Gram’s, something the older woman had never worn much, and so were the flip-flops. “I didn’t have a whole lot of time to pack.”
“You don’t have a car, do you?” Justin stalked closer. “That’s why you rode Copper over here. No clothes, no vehicle and no money. That’s my guess.”
Shame scorched her face. She scrambled to hold on to her dignity. “I really don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you.”
“That fancy big-city fellow you married left you without a care.” Anger dug into the corners of his mouth, making his high cheekbones appear like merciless slashes beneath his sun-browned skin. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“That’s not what I expected from you.” She stared at the grass at her feet to avoid the pity in Justin’s eyes—pity for her. She couldn’t blame her circumstances on anyone but herself. No pity needed. What she had to do was to wise up. Reach inside and find the tough, country girl she’d once known.
“Why don’t we let the past stay where it belongs? Behind us.” Justin hiked backward toward the barn. “It’s gone. Done and over with. We’ll just go on from here.”
“Employer and employee, you mean?”
“That’s it.” He gave her a slow grin, the one that used to make her heartbeat flutter in adoration.
Maybe there was a tiny hint of a flutter—just old memories, nothing more as she watched him go. Looked as if she had a chance for this job after all. With any luck, there would be enough groceries in the pantry to whip up a supper the Grangers weren’t likely to forget.
She hurried back to the house, glad to find Justin’s dad holding a box of recipe cards left behind by his aunt Opal. It was nice to have some inside help.
“Is that Copper?” Autumn skidded to a stop in front of the corner stall. “Did Mr. Cornell bring him over?”
“Nope.” Justin circled around her in the barn’s main aisle, hefting his working horse’s saddle. “Rori rode him over.”
“Rori? You mean she’s in town?”
“No need to look so excited about it.” He’d done his best not to think about her all afternoon long. His work was tough and demanded all of his attention, but somehow she’d remained at the front of his mind. Patching up a calf, checking on his herd, hauling feed and playing vet, all the while bothered by the image of Rori Cornell in a hand-me-down shirt and sadness deepening her violet eyes.
He mentally hammered up a barricade around his heart. Sure, he might feel sorry for her. She’d obviously come on hard times. But that was all he intended to feel for her. Ever.
“She’s up at the main house.” He shouldered through the tack-room door and plopped the saddle onto a saw-horse. He would wipe down the leather this evening. Not that he was in a hurry, but he knew if he didn’t show up for supper, Dad would come out looking for him.
Frank had always thought the world of Rori. Probably because she had always been honest from the get-go. She’d always had bigger plans than settling down in small-town Wyoming. He figured she was always meant for something better.
“I can’t believe it! Rori came back for the wedding, didn’t she?” Autumn deposited her saddle, dancing in place. “I can’t believe no one told me. Then again, considering the men around here, maybe I can.”
“I can feel your gaze boring a hole in the back of my head.” He gave Copper a nose rub on his way outside. “I’m not the reason she didn’t call up and tell you she was back in town. Don’t blame this on me.”
“Who else?” Autumn padded after him. “Besides, that’s what big brothers are good for. Taking the blame.”
“Funny.” He rolled his eyes. “And before you say it, I’m over Rori. It doesn’t matter to me that she’s here.”
“There was a time when I would have called you a liar if you’d said that, but now I know it’s true.” Autumn caught up with him, the heels of her riding boots crunching in the grass. A sign of her determination. “You’ve become a cold, hard man, Justin. I’m worried about you.”
“Nothing new there.” He’d been like this a long time. It had taken him a while to learn the important lessons about women, but he’d finally done it. “No need to worry about me. Go on up to the house and catch up with your old friend.”
“My old friend?” Autumn sounded as if she was going to correct him but then decided better of it. “Aren’t you coming, too?”
“Got a mare I need to check on first.” He climbed through the board fence into a grassy paddock. A small band of expecting mares looked up from their grazing and wheeled in his direction. “I won’t be long.”
“Need any help?”
His sister stood there, the sun at her back, the only female he could count on. She did a man’s work without complaint day in and day out come blizzard cold or blistering heat and still he couldn’t trust her with the truth.
Help? He would need a ten-gallon bucket of it if Rori ended up working for the family. Yet how could he object? She wouldn’t have left behind the city life she’d chosen if she had any other option. He wanted to keep his distance, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see her hurting.
God had a way of keeping a man humble. Justin tipped his hat brim lower to keep the sun off his face, held his hands out to show the mares he’d come without treats and went on with his work.
Chapter Three
“Mighty fine grub, Rori.” Mr. Granger—Frank—dug his spoon into the big bowl of chili in front of him. “We haven’t eaten this good in months.”
Judging by the look of satisfaction on his face, he was telling the truth instead of tempering it with kindness. Relieved, she turned back to the sink. She wasn’t the most accomplished cook, since
