A Marriage Made In Joeville. Anne Eames
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Ryder pushed off his knees and beat more dust from his jeans. Out of the corner of her eye she could see he was no longer studying her. Now he seemed lost in another time and place.
“Yeah, trophies. He likes to collect ’em. Since he was never there, guess that’s all he has.” He ran his fingers through his hair, repositioned his hat low on his forehead, turned and walked to his pickup.
Damn. She hadn’t meant to awaken that demon. But why, if they lived under the same roof for all these years, hadn’t he and his father come to terms? With one hand on the door handle and the other holding his sunglasses, Ryder looked back at her and her chest constricted again.
“Guess I’ll be seeing you around, then...uh, what did you say your name was?”
She met his even stare, wondering if he truly didn’t remember her name or if this was another of his games. She imagined he played many. “Essie. Essie Smith.” She leaned a little heavy on her last name, watching to see if it triggered anything.
If it did, he masked it well. With his gaze still on hers, he slid his glasses in place and lowered the brim of his hat another notch. “See ya around, Essie Smith.”
His tone and grin were suggestive, leaving her breathless and angry, all at the same time. After the slightest pause, he hopped into his pickup, backed it into a stone-throwing arc, and tore down the road the way he’d come.
Two
Less than an hour after he’d arrived, Ryder drove away from the Purple Palace, eyeing it through a veil of dust in the rearview mirror, worrying again about Billy. The months ahead would be difficult, but somehow Ryder would find a way to ease the little guy’s fears. At last a plan had been put into motion that should help. At least he hoped it would—if mother nature and the attorneys didn’t ruin things before they started.
When he passed under the Malone arch, he put that problem aside and thought of another. In the month since his return home, he still hadn’t found his place in the scheme of things. He wanted to help Shane and Josh, but they’d each carved out their own niches, leaving him little but the scraps of daily errands. In part that came in handy, since Maddy and Billy needed him more than ever these days. Yet he missed the comfort of routine.
At the ranch in Helena, where he’d spent most of his adult years, he’d always known how he would spend his days. He had complete charge of the cattle and horses. It was a place where men looked up to him for direction, and women tried to compete with his dim memory of a young girl—a girl he’d thought was his only true friend. Oh, some of the women had succeeded in distracting him short-term. They’d strutted their stuff and he’d danced their dance. For a while. But something was always missing.
Ryder parked his pickup near the stables and headed directly for the corral beyond, the memory of this morning’s new cook niggling at a corner of his memory. There was a vague familiarity in the way she talked, or was it the sound of her voice? He couldn’t quite get a handle on it. Still...she didn’t look like anyone he’d ever met, either in Helena or Joeville.
Shane spotted him and waved his hat high above his head. Old Bucking Horse stood nearby, but he didn’t look up. Ryder sauntered toward them, knowing the old Crow heard him approaching. He heard everything, yet said little. Not exactly a fault in Ryder’s book, since he was a man of few words himself. He hitched his elbows up onto the fence and scraped the bottom of a boot on a lower rung.
Shane made his way over, running his fingers through his nearly black hair, then resettling his hat in place. “Looking for something to do?”
Yeah, something permanent that he could call his own, he thought, but he didn’t say it. He would wait. In time he would find his place. He pushed his hat back on his forehead. “Sure. What do you have?”
“We’ll be moving the cattle to summer pasture in a couple weeks. Could use some help on the fence out there. Got a few downed rails.” When Ryder didn’t jump on that one, Shane offered another. “Or you can help Josh with the Cat. He’s about ready to dig irrigation ditches for the hay, but the equipment’s been acting up.”
“I’ll give Josh a hand first, then see to the fence.” He scraped off his other boot and looked off at Buck working a horse around the ring. “There’s some new quarter horses up for bid in Billings. I was thinking of driving over tomorrow for a look...unless you want to handle it yourself.”
Shane regarded him for a moment, then turned his back to the rail and hooked his elbows over the side. “Nah. You go ahead. If you find anything, we could use about four.”
Ryder knew the significance of Shane’s trust. Horses were his first love—his and Buck’s. In the tradition of the Crow tribe, Buck knew his horses, and he’d always shared his vast knowledge with Shane. Their special bond had angered Ryder when he was a kid. Now he understood it was envy, not anger. Buck was the dad Shane had needed at the time. At least his brother had found someone.
Ryder studied Shane’s rugged profile, noticing the deep lines at the corner of his eye etched against wind-and sunbrowned skin. He closed his eyes and tilted his high cheekbones to the sun, looking as untroubled as ever. He was seven years Joshua’s senior and only three, Ryder’s. Ryder looked at his boots and turned over a few stones. Maybe if he’d been the mature son like Shane, instead of the rebellious teenager, he could have stayed at the ranch, too. Detroit may as well have been Siberia, except for that special friend of his....
“Well...” Shane pushed off the fence. “If we’re going to get anything done, we can’t stand around here working on our tan.” He started to walk away, then stopped. “By the way, what do you think of the new cook?”
Ryder flashed him his best bad-boy smile. “Many fine attributes...but I’m sure you noticed.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I also noticed she couldn’t keep her eyes off you.”
“Really?” This was news to him. If anything, he thought he sensed an air of hostility.
“Probably wouldn’t help any to encourage her, now would it?” Shane leveled a stern look on him that reminded him of their father, a look that set his teeth on edge.
“I think I’m old enough to handle my own affairs, bro.” He turned and walked toward the equipment bam, but he heard Shane’s muttered response behind him.
“Yeah, we’ve all heard about your affairs, little brother. Just don’t make this one another.”
The business of repacking her Pontiac at the motel took .no time at all. Except for the two suitcases she used last night, the rest of her belongings were still bunched snugly in the trunk of her car. She’d cut the tape on the boxes, looking for the ones that held her own clothes, but since she’d found none, she’d felt no need to drag them into Big Beak Motel. Fortunately she had a few of her things in her suitcases—nightshirts, underwear, shoes and her favorite Michigan sweatshirt.
Essie eyed the Michigan logo a moment before closing the lid. So far she’d avoided mention of her home state. If she wore the sweatshirt, the questions would surely come. She could always say it was a gift from her best friend, Jenny, who went to school there. After all, it was true. Yes. That’s exactly what she’d do if the need arose.
She took her time placing the bags in her car before ambling down to the office and paying her bill.
“Leavin’ already?” The clerk with the missing teeth showed no sign of vanity as he smiled broadly at her.
“I got a job in Joeville.” She looked around his tacky office. Dusty animal heads of every variety covered the dark paneled walls. The ranch was definitely a step up, way up, though she’d miss this old geezer. He’d made her feel right at home from the second she’d signed in.
“Joeville!” His tired eyes widened. He suddenly seemed concerned. “Hope