Jesse had tossed the last bag of broodmare supplement into the back of his truck when he saw a pair of shiny, high-heeled boots stop beside the vehicle. He wiped the back of his hand over his brow and lifted his head to find Lissa Christensen, Maggie’s cousin and also the sheriff’s wife, standing there.
He touched a hand to the brim of his hat. “Mrs. Christensen,” he said politely.
“It’s Lissa,” she told him, and offered a smile that was both warm and apologetic.
He wondered what she felt she had to apologize for. Maggie had told him that Lissa wasn’t just her cousin—she was her best friend—and he would bet that whatever Maggie’s reasons for ending their relationship before it had really even begun, she would have confided in the other woman. No doubt Lissa knew more than he wanted her to, but she didn’t need to know—he wouldn’t let her see—how hurt he’d been by Maggie’s decision.
“Is there something I can help you with, ma’am?”
“Actually, I’m here to help you.”
“While I appreciate the offer, I’m already finished,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding her.
She shook her head, clearly exasperated with him. “Have you talked to Maggie recently?”
“Can’t say that I have,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.
“You need to talk to her,” Lissa insisted. “Sooner rather than later.”
And though Jesse’s heart urged him to reach out to her once again, Maggie had trampled on it once already and he wasn’t eager to give her another chance. Maybe pride was cold comfort without the warmth of the woman in his arms, but it was all he had left, and that pride wouldn’t let him continue to chase after a woman who had made it clear she wasn’t interested.
“If your cousin wants to talk, she knows where to find me,” he countered.
Lissa huffed out a breath. “If nothing else, the two of you have obstinacy in common.”
He closed the tailgate of his truck. “If that’s all you wanted to say, I need to get back to Traub Stables.”
“There’s plenty more to say,” she told him. “But it’s not for me to say it.”
He lifted his brows in response to that cryptic comment as he moved to the driver’s-side door.
“Please talk to her,” Lissa urged again.
He slid behind the wheel and drove away, but her insistence nagged at the back of his mind all the way back to Traub Stables. Lissa had to know that he’d been out of touch with her cousin for a while, so why was she all fired up about him needing to talk to Maggie? Why now?
Oddly enough, he’d got a phone call—out of the blue—just a few days earlier from his former fiancée. Shaelyn had said she wanted to talk, so he’d told her to talk. Then she’d said she wanted to see him, but he hadn’t thought there was any point in that. Now he was wondering why the women from his past, who had already tossed him aside, had suddenly decided he was worthy of their attention.
He continued to puzzle over his recent conversation with Lissa as he worked with a spirited yearling. And because he was thinking about her cousin, when he got the feeling that someone was watching him, he instinctively knew that someone was Maggie.
He hadn’t seen her since July, and the passing of time was evidenced by the changing of the season. When he’d met her the day of the community center opening, she’d been wearing a slim-fitting skirt and high-heeled sandals that showed her long, slender legs to full advantage along with a sleeveless silky blouse that highlighted her feminine curves. Today she was bundled up in a long winter coat that he’d bet she’d borrowed from her cousin since she wouldn’t have much use for one in Los Angeles. In addition to the coat, she was wearing a red knitted hat with a pom-pom and matching red mittens, and even from a distance, he could see that her cheeks were pink from the cold.
Her choice to stand outside, he decided. And though it was obvious to both of them that she was waiting for him, he refused to cut the yearling’s workout short. He wasn’t being paid to slack off, and he wasn’t going to let her distract him from his job. Even when she hadn’t been there, she’d been too much of a distraction over the past several months.
While he continued to work with the filly, he cautioned himself against speculating on the purpose of her visit. He didn’t know why she was there or how long she planned to stay this time, but he knew it would be foolish to expect anything from her. He finished running the young horse through her exercises before he passed her off to one of the stable hands for cooldown and grooming and finally turned his attention to Maggie.
“Hello, Jesse.”
She looked good. Better than good. She looked like everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, and he knew that she was. He also knew that she was definitely out of his reach.
He nodded in acknowledgment of her greeting. “When did you get back into town?” he asked, his tone polite but cool.
“Last night.”
Which confirmed that she’d already been in Rust Creek Falls when he ran into her cousin at the feed store—suggesting that Lissa’s appearance there had not been a coincidence. “More of Arthur Swinton’s business?”
She shook her head. “I came to see you.”
And damn if his heart didn’t kick against his ribs like an ornery stallion trying to break out of its stall. Because he was feeling more than he wanted to feel, more than he intended to admit, the single word was harsh when he asked, “Why?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”
“Please, Jesse. Can we go somewhere a little more private?”
He wanted to refuse. He definitely didn’t want to be alone with her, because that would undoubtedly remind him of the last time he’d been alone with her—the night they’d made love.
“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important,” she said.
“Do you know where The Shooting Star is?” he asked, naming his family’s ranch.
She nodded.
“My house is the first one on the left, after the driveway splits. Can you meet me there in an hour?”
She nodded without hesitation. “That would be good.”
No, good would’ve been if she’d come back three months sooner and asked to be alone with him. Then he would have been sure that they both wanted the same thing. Now, after so much time had passed, he had no idea what she wanted, what she thought they needed to talk about.
But he knew she’d been gone 119 days, and wasn’t that pathetic? He’d actually been counting the days. At first, he’d been counting in anticipation of her return. More recently, he’d been counting in the hope that with each day that passed he would be one day closer to forgetting about her.
And
