His Last Rodeo. Claire McEwen
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it in the tilt of her chin, the press of her full lips into a rigid line. “He’s fine.” But it was clear that she was lying.
Tyler could picture exactly what had happened. His cold, logical dad doing the calculations and deciding that Garth Hayes was no longer an economically sound employee.
A sick feeling melted into Tyler’s stomach. Garth had toiled on Sierra Canyon Ranch from dawn until past dusk six days a week for as long as Tyler could remember.
“I tried to talk to your dad last week. My dad borrowed against his pension fund, so he’s broke now.” Kit’s voice had tears in it, though she’d never let them show. “I asked your dad to forgive the debt. But he wouldn’t bend.”
“Why did your dad need that loan?” Tyler put out a hand to stop her. “Never mind. It’s not my business.”
“It’s okay.” Kit sighed. “Ask anyone in town and they’ll tell you. When I turned eighteen, my mom asked my dad for a divorce. Seems she’d always hated it here. She left and broke my dad’s heart.”
“I had no idea.” Kit’s mom had never come around the ranch, but he’d see her in town and at school events. She’d worn long, flowing skirts and a remote expression on her face.
“My dad still loved my mom. He wanted her to be happy. So he took out that loan to help her start a new life and a business. She owns a groovy crystal shop in a little town on the Oregon coast.”
“No kidding.” Tyler tried to read her mood.
“She even changed her name. She’s Starflower Kindness now, owner of Kindness Crystals and Healing. You can look her up. She has an online store, too.”
Kit was tough, as always, shrugging like she didn’t care. From the tremor in her husky voice, he’d bet she cared a lot.
“Have you seen her?”
“Once or twice. But not lately, because she never paid Dad back. And now he’s struggling to get by. I have trouble forgiving her for that.”
“Makes sense.” It was tragic that her family had fallen apart. Doubly tragic that her dad had sacrificed so much to make sure the woman who’d left him would be okay. “I’ll speak to my father. I’ll try to make this right. Your dad deserves a hell of a lot better after all he did for my family. And for me.”
She nodded, and he realized it wouldn’t help to say more now. He’d talk to his dad, and if by some miracle he got anywhere, he could share that with Kit. Anything else would be empty promises. But they had something else between them that needed to be resolved.
“I can see why you’re upset at my dad. But I don’t want it to cause trouble with the staff. If you’re pissed at me, tell me straight.”
She didn’t answer right away, but he saw a twist of guilt in her guarded expression. Finally she sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so rude in the meeting. It won’t happen again.”
“Okay. Good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say now that he’d finished laying down the law. But he still had his own guilt to assuage. “The other night, when I sprang the news on you about buying the bar... I should never have shown up here drunk. And I have a feeling I said some other things I shouldn’t have.”
She smiled faintly. “You did. But if I had a problem dealing with drunks, I’d have quit this job a long time ago.”
He nodded at the truth there. “Seems to me you’re kind of an expert. You had me on the ground faster than a pissed-off bull.”
“It comes in handy.”
“I could use a great bartender like you. I hope you’ll stick around.”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded, as if considering his invitation. “Do you want help with the schedule?”
He didn’t recognize all the new hard edges on her, but this was more like the Kit he remembered from childhood. Getting mad, forgiving easily, then moving on. “Sure.”
She tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder. “Okay, so...move over.” She walked into the tiny office, brushing up against him to get by. She paused, so close to him that her full breasts pressed into his torso. “Hey, boss? Maybe enlarge this office as part of your remodel. Because this isn’t going to work.”
That was for damn sure. He could barely breathe. His brain had dropped below his belt, making it crystal clear that she was definitely not the same childhood friend he’d known. “The schedule?”
Her derisive smile was back, letting him know she saw the effect she had on him. “Scoot over.”
He shuffled out of her way and she grabbed a file out of a cabinet by the desk. “Let’s talk at the bar.”
He led the way into the empty room, relieved to have more space between them. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, conscious that it was his first time offering anyone anything in his new place.
“Just soda water.”
Tyler went behind the bar and grabbed two glasses. He set them on the counter, then realized he had no idea how to get her what she’d asked for.
“You need a little help?”
He nodded. “And I bet you’re going to give me a hard time about it?”
But she didn’t. Just slid off her stool and came around the bar. “Ice is in that cooler,” she said, pointing to a built-in compartment. “And soda, tonic, it’s all from this gun.” She pointed to a black nozzle that was hooked to a metal bracket.
He picked it up. There were different buttons marked with letters.
“S for soda water.” She put ice in their glasses, then held them out.
He pushed the button and filled the glasses. It was the only easy thing about today so far. He was still absorbing the news about Kit’s dad. And trying to contain the anger he felt toward his own.
He put the nozzle back and followed her to sit side by side. Kit pulled the folder toward him so he could see it and her elbow brushed his. Her dress had short sleeves, and he tried not to stare at the inked rattlesnake that wound its way up her arm, highlighting the way every toned muscle rippled under her creamy skin. It wasn’t a tattoo he’d have imagined for her, but then again, what did he know? They’d both changed a lot since they were kids.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he directed his attention to the papers she’d laid out.
“Here are the schedule requests,” she said. “Everyone fills one out each week, or they get what they get and no griping.”
“Okay.” He picked one up and read over it. “Loomis only wants weekends?”
“He’s full-time at Lone Mountain Ranch during the week.”
“Got it.”
“So once you’ve gone through the request sheets and you know what everyone wants, you plug them into the calendar on the office wall.”
“It sounds pretty straightforward.”
“It is, sometimes. Other times, everyone wants the same thing so you have to be diplomatic. This week, for example, everyone wants to work Saturday night. And, for that matter, so do I.”
“Why this Saturday?”
“The Benson Spring Fling. Huge crowd. Good tips.”
Tyler remembered the Fling, with its rummage sale, the art walk downtown, horsemanship demos at the fairgrounds. And he remembered one Spring Fling especially. He and Kit had met up as the day became dusk, and ended the night in the back of a cop car.
She might have remembered it, too, because her pale skin tinged pink. Or maybe she wished he’d hurry up and learn the scheduling so she could get out of here.
“So