Wyoming. We met up on the rodeo circuit a few years back. I don’t think he ever made it to the ranch, but we’ve kept in touch.”
“That’s nice.” For a split second she sounded a little wistful. Then that cocky tone of hers took over again. “So what’s up with you, Noah? Found yourself a salt-of-the-earth ranching woman yet?”
“Nope.” Once again she’d managed to hit a subject he was touchy about. “Been a little busy.” He hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to reveal. After all, she’d been the one who’d decided to break off contact with everyone in Saguaro Junction, including her father and sister. But finally he decided to tell her some of the news. Couldn’t hurt. “My dad died a couple of years ago.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.” She gazed up at him, her green eyes filled with sadness. “He was a nice man.”
“Thanks. He was.” He couldn’t ever remember seeing sympathy in her eyes before. Defiance plenty of times, devilment nearly as often and, once, on a very memorable night, desire. Never this soft, endearing sympathy.
He’d always thought of her as being so tough, but maybe she wasn’t. Ten years ago he hadn’t allowed himself to see past her cheeky bravado. Life had been safer that way. But he was older now, and he wondered if he’d missed a few things about Keely. He should have tracked her down, just to make sure she was okay.
“So you and Jonas are running things?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He could say that now. Six months ago he couldn’t have, back when Jonas spent more time chasing women than chasing cows. But B.J. had settled Jonas down considerably. “That’s another thing that’s happened,” he said. “Jonas will be getting married soon.”
“Get outta here!” She grinned. “Shotgun?”
“Nope. He’s marrying your sister.”
Disbelief flashed in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced with a touching vulnerability. She glanced away. “Well.” Her throat moved in a hard swallow before she looked up, her gaze guarded. “She always was sweet on him, but she’s making a huge mistake.”
“A few months ago I would have agreed with you, but you’d be surprised at how Jonas has changed. He’s getting more responsible by the day.”
“What a shame.”
The old irritation that had always been a part of his conversations with Keely pricked him now. If everybody had Keely’s carefree attitude toward life, the work would never get done. “I happen to be glad for him.”
She gave him that saucy smile, the one that always warned him that a smart-ass remark was coming. “You would be,” she said. “You were born old.”
His jaw clenched. Keely had a real talent for getting under his skin. She always had—in every department. “Everybody has to grow up sometime. Even you.”
“Not if I can help it. And as for B.J. and Jonas, they should have years ahead of them before they have to settle into some boring routine. But no, they’re shackling themselves to each other and that blessed ranch. I hate to see it.”
“Nobody asked you to.” Now, that was a low blow and he hadn’t meant to deliver it. But he couldn’t take it back, and he didn’t know how to smooth over what he’d just said.
Her eyes registered the hurt. “No, I guess nobody did.” She slid her sunglasses back on, and when she spoke again her voice sounded more brittle than bright. “And I suppose my father’s as crotchety as ever?”
He was touched that she was brave enough to ask about Arch. She and her father had fought bitterly all through her teenage years, and he’d practically thrown her out after the centerfold incident. He hadn’t been serious about sending her away, but with her nineteen-year-old view of the world, she’d taken it seriously. Neither of them had been able to swallow their pride long enough to make the connection again.
“Arch is fine,” he said gently, wanting to reassure her of that much, at least. “In perfect health.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said with a grimace, although she sounded relieved. “He wouldn’t tolerate the presence of an infirmity.” She straightened her shoulders. “Well, now that we’re all caught up, I’d better be going. I have an appointment.”
He’d nearly forgotten where they were standing. Before he’d stopped her she’d been about to go inside this dance club. He had a sinking sensation that he knew why. “An appointment?” he asked, trying to keep the question casual.
“Yes. An interview.”
“Oh.” His gut churned. A job interview. The centerfold picture flashed through his mind again and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was trying to get a job dancing on the stage in there. She planned to take off most of her clothes and twirl those little tassel gizmos for the men who patronized this club.
He eyed the entrance once more and noticed chipped paint around the door frame. The rock music coming from inside sounded more sinister than it had a moment ago, and he heard loud male laughter. He hoped this place was a step down from what she’d been doing before and not a step up. But whichever direction she was headed, it looked like the wrong road to him.
“Listen, I’m already late, but it’s been fun seeing you,” she said. “What a coincidence, huh? Take care of yourself, Noah.” She turned toward the shadowy entrance.
Without taking time to think about it, he grabbed her arm. “Don’t go in there.”
She glanced up at him in surprise. “Why not?”
“There have to be better ways to make a living.” His breath hitched. Her bare arm felt warm and smooth beneath his fingers. She had wonderful skin, he remembered now. And she was planning to show way too much of it to strangers.
With her free hand she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. Then she gazed at him as if fascinated by this turn of events. “What do you think I do for a living?”
“I’m…I’m not sure, and to tell the truth I’d rather not know. I’m just asking you not to go for that interview. I’ve been in places like this. I know how they expect the women to—”
“Do you, now?”
He released her arm as if her skin might burn him. “Damn it, Keely. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not sure I do. I’m still getting used to the concept of Noah Garfield in a topless bar. Did someone trick you into going in?”
“No!” The woman sure had a way of getting his goat. “I went in under my own steam. I’m not a saint.”
A slow smile spread over those peach-colored lips. “Couldn’t prove it by me.”
“Look, Keely, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on things. Years ago you seemed determined to head in a certain direction, and you wouldn’t listen to anybody who tried to talk you out of it. But I’m asking you right here, right now, to reconsider. Maybe you met me on this street for a reason. Maybe it’s time to think about alternatives.”
She folded her arms and looked at him. Mischief lurked in
