“All right?” she echoed, feeling stupid and slow.
“Yup, all right. As in, all right, how’s about you help me find what I’m looking for in this here fridge? I’m as hungry as a bear.”
“Of course. But...but I should tell you, I won’t be staying on long. Just long enough to help you and your brothers get reacclimated and find a replacement. I’m moving.” She backtracked. “I mean, I’m opening up a bed and breakfast. I won’t be working here for much longer.”
The words came out in a rush, totally unplanned and woefully inelegant. Behind her, Lacey heard Mr. Barnes sigh and understood that the man had had every intention of keeping that bit of information to himself for the time being. Quite possibly, he had been hoping to convince her to change her mind before the McCall brothers should ever learn of her plans.
If that was the case, though, the notion was his and his alone. Lacey had made her intentions clear, and she didn't intend to change her plans.
“Are you, now?” Trevor asked in that same rich, almost lazy drawl. He looked at her closely as he spoke, and she felt the urge to squirm grow exponentially.
“Yes, I—I am,” she stammered.
“Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, that’s a shame.”
And, for perhaps a split second, Lacey wondered if it was.
4
“What’s the matter, bro? You don’t sound so hot,” Carson laughed into the phone.
“Gee, thanks,” Trevor answered, more than a little ticked off. He didn’t love Carson’s joviality, not when Trevor and Trevor alone was still managing things at the ranch. Truth be told, though, it wasn’t really Carson he was annoyed with. This past week, he’d been ticked off in general, any little thing enough to make him want to fly off the handle. It was part of why he had sequestered himself in the barn even though his workday was finally done. He didn’t trust himself at this point to be around people without losing it.
“Come on, man, I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Carson laughed again, a sympathetic note creeping into his voice. “But I’m serious. You don’t sound so hot. What gives?”
“It’s nothing, Carson, not really. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know you do, brother. I’m sorry about that. I wish I could get there sooner. Honest to God, I do. Do you need me to—?”
"No," Trevor interrupted quickly. He wanted to kick himself for saying anything in the first place. It wasn't like him to complain, and besides, it wasn't like anyone had forced him into taking this particular bullet. Of the three of them, he lived closest. He also had Frank Hoffman, who Trevor was convinced must be the best, most trustworthy foreman in all of Montana. While it wasn't easy to make his business work from a different town, it was a whole lot easier for him to uproot his life at the drop of a hat than it would be for Carson or Randy. Come to think of it, Trevor had basically formed a practice of making his life easy to move at a moment's notice, although he hadn't fully realized that was what he'd been doing until now. He certainly hadn't imagined he’d use the advantage such mobility gave him to come back home.
"Seriously, Trev, I can be there tomorrow, if need be," Carson said, his voice hoarse with guilt. "If things are getting to be too much, all you have to do is say the word."
“Nah, it’s nothing like that. You want to know the truth?”
"I don't know—do I?" Carson asked. He was laughing again, but Trevor could hear the worry behind the mirth.
“Sure, you do. If you want to know what’s really getting to me, it’s the food.”
“The food?! Are you for real right now?”
“As real as a man can be,” Trevor affirmed, grimacing at the mere thought of what had passed for supper on the ranch these past couple days. It was almost enough to make a man want to learn how to cook.
Not quite, but almost.
“But Mrs. Cameron always did a great job with the meals!” Carson protested, sounding almost offended on the older woman’s behalf. “Isn’t she around anymore?”
Trevor suppressed a sigh. "No, she's not. Apparently, it's been her daughter, Lacey, for a couple years now. Lacey's mom quit to help look after her grandmother full time."
“Lacey,” Carson mused, “yeah, I think I remember her. Shy little thing, right?”
“If you say so.”
“So what’s the deal? She not living up to the Carson women’s culinary legacy?” Carson asked with a chuckle.
"Nah, it's nothing like that. Her cooking's top-notch. The problem is the woman she's got coming in to replace her. She's been trying to train this lady, but I'm not sure there's anything to be done.” He shook his head, and his grip tightened momentarily on the phone. “I think I'm going to have to put my foot down on this. If one of us is going to be taking the ranch on, we've got to have people we can work with."
Carson’s voice rang through the phone, full of confidence. “It’s your call, brother. I’ll second whatever you want to do. I—”
But Trevor stopped listening halfway through, missing a large part of whatever else Carson had to say on the matter. The sound of the barn door opening had caught his attention, and when he looked up, his cousin Penny was ducking her head in at the doorway. She didn’t look like she had any intention of coming all the way inside, but she didn’t need to for Trevor to feel the shock of what the years had done to the woman.
Penny was Carson's age, and once upon a time, she had been around the McCall family enough that the brothers had thought of her as more of a sister than a cousin. She had always been something of a tomboy, a rough-and-tumble sort, and she had taken it hard when Trevor had moved away and decided not to come around the ranch anymore. Letting go of her friendship was one of the parts he regretted about the way he had handled things, and that went double now.
She looked like a shadow of the spunky, spirited cousin he remembered. Even across the dim barn, he could see dark circles under her eyes. Her face was unnaturally pale and gaunt, the hair hanging in her face lank and clearly in need of a wash. She looked like she'd been through hell and back since he'd seen her last, no two ways around it.
Trevor's stomach gave a lurch, and he pulled the phone away from his ear, Carson still talking, oblivious to the change. "Hey, cuz," he croaked, striving for a normal voice and falling flat. "I didn't know you were coming around. Give me a second, okay?"
Penny gave a half wave. “Sure, no hurry. I just wanted to poke my head in and say hi. It’s good to see you after all this time. You look good, Trev. You really do.”
“Th-thanks,” he stammered. “So do you.”
Penny smiled sadly. They both knew this last part was a lie. She flapped her hand in another wave and pointed back outside, presumably toward the house. Trevor glanced at his phone, and when he looked up again, Penny was shaking her head.
“Seriously, Trev. No need to rush. I need to take off, actually. I’ve got somewhere I need to be,” she said, her voice hoarse and sharp around the edges. “Don’t worry, though. We’ve got plenty of time. I’ll see you around, okay?”