And almost as if on cue, a neigh sounds off in the distance. The sound of a familiar friend I can relate to in this hostile environment.
“I thought you said you didn’t listen to the rumors.”
“I don’t, but your pleasant personality isn’t doing much to dissuade them either.”
“Then why are you still standing here?” she asks.
Hell if I know.
I hate myself before I even utter the words. “So, when do I start?”
She shakes her head. “Insult me. Criticize me. Tell me you believe lies, and then you actually think I’m going to hire you? You’re out of your mind.”
“Insult me. Criticize me. Tell me you hate me after I’ve driven hundreds of miles to take the job offer. Sounds familiar doesn’t it?” Our glares hold and then all of a sudden, it clicks for me. “Ah, I get it. Hard to fire the help when you’re sleeping with him? Your boyfriend isn’t running the ranch now, is he?”
She fists her hands as her shoulders tense. “Not that it’s any of your business who I sleep with, but I’m not sleeping with the ranch manager. I don’t have one. The ranch manager is me. I’m her. I’m the lone employee!”
I blink for a few seconds as I try to digest her words. Words there’s no way I believe.
But I do.
Because when I look back at her, all I see is fire.
The fire and grit and determination of someone used to standing on their own with what feels like the world against them.
Beauty.
The fact that the harsh voice and haughty attitude on the phone would be owned by a woman who staggered me when she first walked into the doorway didn’t even pass through my mind when I decided to follow through on my promise.
Pain.
That definitely was not something I expected to see after listening to the people of Lone Star speak ill of her and make all the petty and catty comments.
But I know those kinds of rumors.
I should have known better than to believe them.
But the hurt and resentment I feel made it all that much easier to.
Shit.
Now what I had determined was going to be something I could walk up to, see for myself, and then leave, is gone.
Fuck.
And then almost as if she just realized what she’s admitted to, that she’s the failing employee, anger fires in her eyes as she shoves her finger over my shoulder, and grits out, “You can see yourself out.”
“You live out here all alone?” I ask and whistle. That’s a whole lot of loneliness for anyone this far from town.
“I have the horses to keep me company.”
“Humans. You don’t have any other humans out here who you interact with?”
“Apparently, I don’t need other humans,” she says, but for the briefest of seconds, I see emotions flit through her eyes. Sadness? Loneliness? It’s something, but before she lets me really see it, it’s gone.
“Everyone needs humans.”
“I used to think that too, but I’m finding the animals get me more than the humans ever did.”
The raw honesty in the rasp of her voice tells me she’s been through enough to warrant the chip on her shoulder and the rumors in town.
Her sentiment is one I’ve voiced more times in my life than I care to count—an excuse so I don’t have to explain shit to anyone—and I nod.
I’ve been there too.
Still am there.
But there’s something about the sadness in her eyes that makes me want to clear it away. That makes me want to push buttons to get that fire back because temper I can deal with.
Temper at least gives me something to fight against.
I shut out all other emotions.
“Looks to me like a ranch manager is what you need. I can be him, get this place up to speed and then work on getting the contracts. That way, you could go back to doing”—I flick my hand in indifference—”the things you’re used to doing.”
“What I’m used to doing?” she says, voice escalating in pitch. “Like eating caviar and getting pedicures, right? Had to make sure to put me in my place.”
“What you do on your time is your prerogative.” I lift my hands in surrender, this fight is over. My attempt has been given.
Silence stretches between us with the chirp of birds and whinny of horses the only other sounds.
“Oh, I will.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Knox,” I say and mockingly tip my hat.
“Can’t say the same.”
“Don’t let your pride get in the way of hiring someone who could bring this place back to life.”
“And don’t let your ego get in the way of you getting shot,” she says, and I laugh, not sure if I respect her gumption or find it infuriating. “This place is full of life, thank you.”
I lift a lone eyebrow in question. “So, that’s it? Ask me to come, kick me out when I travel hundreds of miles, and then call my name as if your life depended on it, only to realize you did it and you didn’t want to?” I give a quick shake of my head. “You think I’m trying to pull a power play? I think it’s the other way around.” I lift my hat and scratch my hair beneath it before pulling it back down. “I understand indecision, Knox. I understand fear and confusion and second-guessing whether what you’re doing is right or not . . . but this was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. You want help, fine. You don’t want help, fine. But unless you figure it all out—and soon—you’re going to lose this place. Plain and simple.”
“Goodbye, Jack.” Her voice is strained, her expression hard. The sound of a woman who wants help but is too damn afraid to admit it.
Fire. Beauty. Pain.
I think of those three things that prevented me from walking away moments ago.
I promise, Dad.
Those were the last words I spoke to my father before he died. That was the promise my being here is keeping.
With a step in retreat, I offer her a wink and a grin just to piss her off. “I’ll be in town until Friday should you find your sense again and decide to hire me.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and stride back down the gravel driveway toward my truck, all the while questioning why the fuck I left the offer open like that.
As I back down the ranch’s long driveway, I know she’s still standing on the porch with a hand on her hip, watching me with those smoke-colored eyes.
The question is: why the hell does that give me a small iota of satisfaction?
2
TATE
Bring this place back to life, my ass.
I don’t know how long I stand and stare at the dust his tires kick up as it dances through the sunlight.
How about stop sitting at the bar listening to rumors, huh? How about not believing the lies told and meeting me first? How about giving me a chance before they poison you to who I really am?
That cocky grin. Those chocolate-colored eyes alit with humor because, even though I told him he wasn’t, he was right . . . so right in so many ways. Still, it was worth every damn word of that fight. His sarcasm, which hit all the right notes at all the right times, like nails on a chalkboard to my ears and sledgehammer to my ego. The truth he threw around was so much closer than anyone could ever imagine because I’m doing everything I can to keep my financial trouble a secret. I’ve been doing everything to prevent the vultures from circling while they wait for me to lie down and die.