by Jeannie Watt
The bell above the door rang and a couple of teenage cowboys came in, looking for bandannas. Dylan had to deliver the sad news that they didn’t carry bandannas and he didn’t have an answer when one of the kids asked why. They’d barely left when another customer came in to buy a supplement they did carry. And all he could think as he put on his polite cop face and rang up the sale was that Jolie seemed tuned in to his moods and was not shy about calling him on the dark ones. He needed to act as normal as possible when she returned so she wouldn’t ask questions he really didn’t want to think about much less answer.
* * *
THE WEDDING WASN’T FANCY. The bride wore a knee-length, green-silk shift, the groom a sports jacket. But the way they looked at one another, the way Gabe’s eyes skimmed over his wife-to-be and stopped ever so briefly at her midsection, made Jolie clear her throat more than once as she fought back emotion.
The justice of the peace was the father of one of Jolie’s high school friends and they caught up for a few minutes before the brief ceremony. Jolie encouraged him to stop by the feed store next time he needed dog food and handed him a ten-percent-off coupon.
“Really?” Dani said as she took her place next to Gabe. Jolie just smiled, resisting the urge to hand her sister a coupon. It was her special day, after all.
The ceremony was short. The kiss that followed was not. Dani was so damned happy, even if getting married in the courthouse hadn’t been part of their original plan and kids were supposed to happen in four years. She and Gabe held hands tightly as they left the courthouse and the three of them celebrated with lunch at the Jameson hotel.
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews, as much as I’d love to linger and be the third wheel, I need to get back to the store.” Jolie insisted on paying the check then slung her purse over her shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to give us some coupons before you leave?” Dani asked.
“Hey, I have a bet to win. I have to drum up business where I can. You guys are already part of our customer base.”
Although she very much wanted to win that bet and to hear Dylan tell her that she was right and he was wrong—for once—she was beginning to suspect that she’d chosen the wrong prize.
When she’d first thrown down the gauntlet and named her prize, she’d envisioned having some fun telling Dylan where they would go and what they would do—pretty much bossing him around the way he used to boss her around. And she’d assumed he would play along, as well as he was able to play, anyway. Lately, however, she’d discovered that not only could Dylan play, but that she enjoyed playing with him. The beauty of their situation was that Dylan was one guarded guy; he’d only let things go so far before reining them in. So she was free to push a few boundaries—play with him a little—but she was beginning to see that she needed to be careful about how far she pushed things.
When she got back to the store, one look at Dylan’s face told her there would be no playing today. Granted, his dark expression cleared some when he glanced up as she came through the door. He was making an effort. Cool. But she couldn’t help but flash on the fact that the last time he’d looked this way was when his father was dying—and she hadn’t known.
He shifted his weight as she approached, as if he was uncomfortable being trapped behind the counter. “How was the wedding?”
“Quick, but the bride and groom seemed pleased. They’re going to have a big ceremony next summer at the Lightning Creek and right now they’re on their way to Flathead Lake for a three-day honeymoon before flying to Florida to celebrate with our mom.”
“Sounds cool.” But clearly his heart wasn’t in the comment. The divorce maybe? Could it be that Dylan no longer believed in happily-ever-after? Her sister, Allie, didn’t after her rough five-year marriage had ended, but her other recently married sister, Mel, was enthusiastic.
“How was business?” she asked, setting her purse on the counter. It seemed odd to have their positions reversed with Dylan on the inside and her on the out. So she leaned on the counter as he always did.
“We had some customers. One lady was ready to buy one of Marti’s paintings.”
“Then she saw the price.”
“Hey. She didn’t faint.”
Jolie smiled as their gazes connected. Held. And even though he was smiling, too, the expression in his eyes was both distant and wary. As if he was hiding something. “Everything okay?”
Even as she asked, she knew that Dylan would shut down rather than respond.
He did not disappoint. “Nothing.”
Nothing her ass. He looked as if he was about to write her a ticket. All cool and distant. Guarded.
“Mike’s okay with the sale?”
Dylan’s expression cleared a bit and she knew she was on the wrong track and he was glad of it. “Oh. Yeah. Now that the girls have a home, he’s good with it. I think he’s looking forward to being closer to his sister.”
“And you’ll live with him?”
“For now.”
She leaned her chin on one hand, really wanting to dig deeper, to see if she could cajole his secrets out of him, but knowing he wouldn’t let go of them easily. The distant polite-cop look still masked his expression, but there was definitely something there that he couldn’t quite cover. Pain? Anger?
Damn it. She wanted to know.
“Well,” he said, “I have an order to finish.”
“Facebook page to update,” she said as they exchanged places. She set her purse under the counter and watched as Dylan disappeared into his office.
Leave it be.
Good advice. She hoped she could follow it.
As it turned out, she could not.
At home that evening she received Finn’s long-overdue reply to her most recent email to him, over a week after she’d sent it. He asked about the bet and how she and Dylan were getting along. He hoped the store wouldn’t look like a battleground when he returned.
She wrote back telling him that the store was fine, she would certainly win the bet and that she and Dylan were working together surprisingly well, even if he was seriously defensive about certain issues. Such as his recent past. What on earth had happened to him? What kind of mystery accident had he had? Was Dylan also keeping it a secret from Finn? And what had happened to his marriage?
She clicked Send and wondered if she’d already have the answers to those questions by the time he wrote back, which would no doubt be in another two weeks. She doubted that she would.
Dylan was a vault and, honestly? She was spending too much time wondering about him and his secrets—perhaps because with Dani gone, she didn’t have a whole lot else to think about during her nights off, except for ranch repairs, of course.
Jolie turned off her computer and wandered toward the kitchen, stepping over Gus, who’d passed out in the doorway. If anyone had asked her if she was afraid of being alone, she would have answered no with a straight face. But she wouldn’t have been being totally honest. She didn’t mind being alone, but she did not like coming home to an empty house.
For some reason the emptiness took her straight back to the days after she’d lost her father, when the house had seemed to echo whenever she walked inside, despite her sisters and mother being there. She had been her father’s favorite, the baby, and she’d loved it. But her sisters had all had a longer time with him, even if it had only been a year in Dani’s case, and Jolie felt cheated because of it.
Damn but she still missed him. All these years later, even though she now had to look at a photograph to remember what he looked like, she still remembered what it felt like to be near him. Safe. Warm. Loved.
Then all that comfort and security had been snatched away.
Gus gave a yawn and stretched out to his full length. Rolling over onto his back, he “grinned” up at her as if sensing that she needed someone
to break the grim mood descending upon her.
With a soft smile she knelt to rub his belly. His eyes shut in an expression of pure canine bliss. Jolie gave his belly a pat and straightened again.
She was good. She was fine. Living alone again was going to take some getting used to, but she’d adjust. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a lot of chores, both at work and at home, to keep her busy and help her fall into bed exhausted at night.
For that she was grateful.
* * *
JOLIE KNEW THE instant she walked into the store after her lunch break that something was off. Dylan emerged from his office as she walked in the door and took a stance. Everything about him, from his body language to his closed expression, read anger.
She stopped several yards away from him. “Bad news?”
“There’s something we need to get straight,” he said as he folded his arms over his chest.
“Apparently so,” she replied, ignoring the sudden hammering of her heart as she walked to the counter to set her purse down. She turned back, telling herself there was no reason for her heart to beat harder...but she also couldn’t think of one thing they needed to get straight, or a reason for him to look so angry.
“You and I work together. You have no right to be making inquiries into my personal life. Of my cousin or anyone else.”
She gaped at him. Finn had ratted her out? “I was concerned.” Her voice was huskier than usual and she had to swallow after speaking.
“It’s not your place to be concerned.” Dylan’s jaw went tight for a moment. “How would digging into my life alleviate your concern?”
“I—” Had no answer. She also had no defense. There was no use pretending that she did.
“So,” he asked coldly. “What did you find out?”
“You know what I found out. Nothing.”
He took a few steps closer, but if he thought she was going to back down or shrink into herself, he had another think coming. “Is it that bad?” she asked, trying for bravado. “Whatever it is?”
“What it is, is private. I’m private. If I want someone to know something about me, I tell them. I didn’t tell you for a reason.”
Jolie blinked, feeling something that felt ridiculously like tears. It sucked to be so wrong, but it sucked just as much to be attacked because she’d cared enough to try to find out what was making this man so freaking defensive and unhappy. “I understand,” she said stiffly. “Enjoy your misery, Mr. Culver. If you need me for some professional reason, I’ll be here. At my computer. Working.”
She marched around the counter, put her purse away and pulled back her chair with quick, deliberate movements. She turned to see if he was still there or if he’d retreated to his lair. He was still there, standing stiffly, regarding her with a somewhat conflicted expression.
And then it dawned on her...he’d probably just recalled that he was supposed to deliver his grandfather’s menagerie to the Lightning Creek that evening.
The power had just shifted a bit and she wondered what she was going to do with her very slight advantage.
Let him suffer awhile. She turned back to her computer and shook the mouse to wake it up, taking a seat as she waited for the screen to light. She hoped he didn’t ask about the animals because, truthfully, she didn’t know what her answer was going to be. What she did know was that she was done with Dylan Culver. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked about him, but it hadn’t been with malicious intent and she wasn’t going to waste her breath trying to explain that particular fact to her jerk of a boss.
The bell rang over the door and Jolie got back to her feet, ready to take an order from the elderly couple that walked into the store. After that, customers showed up in a steady stream, one after another, giving her and Dylan no real time to talk.
Jolie sold a couple of picture frames and a bridle, which should have lifted her mood, but didn’t. She was polite and friendly to the customers, but felt as if she was outside her own body, watching herself go through the motions of making people feel their business was appreciated. And she was good at it, too—much better at hiding her true mood than Dylan was. However, she made no effort to hide her feelings about him the few times they’d had to speak. Coldness was not a natural response for her under general circumstances, but cold was what Dylan got. And it felt good to give him a little of his own.
Dylan loaded the last customer, one of his former high school cronies, a few minutes after closing time and Jolie took advantage of his preoccupation to slip out the side door, get into her truck and drive away. And she turned her phone off for good measure. She had no idea how Dylan was going to handle the animal issue, nor how she would respond. The ball was in his court and she was curious to see what his next move was going to be.
CHAPTER NINE
MIKE CRANED HIS neck as Dylan turned into the gate leading to the Lightning Creek Ranch. His grandfather was practically squirming in his seat in his anticipation to see where his girls were going to call home. All Dylan could hope for was that, one, Jolie didn’t order him off the property and Mike didn’t find out tonight that this was only a temporary home.
He hadn’t even thought about Jolie being the foster keeper of his granddad’s girls until after she’d mentioned that he was free to talk to her about any professional matters. He’d been so damned hot when he’d received Finn’s email a few minutes before she’d arrived that he hadn’t been thinking straight at all. What if she did throw them off the property? How was he going to explain that to Mike?
Any concerns he had about Jolie’s welcome evaporated when he pulled the truck and trailer to a stop in front of the barn. Jolie came out of the house and went directly to the passenger side of the truck to open the door for Mike. She didn’t as much as look at Dylan.
“This way,” she said with a smile after Mike closed the truck door. “Let me show you the pens.”
She led the way into the barn, leaving Dylan wondering whether he should wait outside or follow them in. Deciding that Mike might notice something was off if he stayed with the truck, he trailed along behind them.
“This is for the goats,” Jolie said, showing Mike a stall that led to a square-wire pen outside. “A remnant from my 4-H sheep days.”
“Looks fine. It’s a lot more grazing than they have right now. They’ll be happy.”
“And your cow—”
“Karen.”
“I’d like to eventually put Karen out with the other ladies.” She glanced over at Mike as she spoke, her gaze clashing with Dylan’s before she asked, “Are you all right with that?”
“Shouldn’t hurt none. It’s been a while since she’s seen another cow.” That was evident from the way she was bellowing in the trailer.
“She’s halter broke?”
“Did a couple of years of 4-H with the neighbor kid.”
“Great. Maybe your grandson can lead her into the pen opposite the goat pen.”
“I’ll get her,” Mike said, shooting a look from one of them to the other.
Great. Dylan smiled tightly at him. “I’ll get the goats.”
“I’ll help,” Jolie said, following the two men to the trailer.
The animals went into the pens more quietly than Dylan had expected, given the strange new surroundings and the cows bellowing back at Karen. Once the gates were latched, Jolie ran her hands down the sides of her pants.
“I’ll take good care of them,” Jolie said to Mike.
From the way Mike was beaming back at her, Dylan wondered if she might not be in line for a raise in pay.
“I appreciate you taking them. I know it’s a big commitment. I just about gave up on finding them a permanent home. Most people wanted to eat them.”
“Yes,” Jolie said, once again meeting Dylan’s gaze. “I’m glad to help. Please, feel free to
visit any time.”
“I don’t know if I need to do that,” Mike said, “but if you don’t mind, maybe I will. Sometime.”
“Maybe after you settle into your new place,” Dylan said.
“Yeah.”
“Can I offer you anything before you go?” Jolie asked. “I have beer and cola.”
“We still have to haul a couple loads to the new place. But, thanks,” Mike said, reaching out to take Jolie’s hand. For a minute Dylan thought he was going to kiss it or something, but instead he squeezed it and then let her go.
“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow,” Dylan said to Jolie.
“No doubt,” she said, the words dropping coldly from her lips.
He and Mike got in the truck. Mike shot him a look, but Dylan focused on backing the trailer in a three-point turn. They drove by Jolie, who waved at Mike. Dylan nodded at her because Mike would think it odd if he didn’t.
“What in the hell is going on between the two of you?”
“What?”
“Don’t give me ‘what’?” She’s steamed at you and you looked like you wanted to be anywhere but there.”
“Nothing’s up,” Dylan said.
“Bull.”
“Nothing important. We just had a disagreement. It’s nothing big.”
“It is if that’s the way you two are in the store. Customers are going to leave if they feel uncomfortable.”
“They’re usually only there for a few minutes anyway.” Although most were now taking the time to browse the gift section and Jolie’s hand cream was becoming more and more popular—although the store didn’t get jack for that because she sold it at her cost and he’d brilliantly told her that the store didn’t want to carry it.
“You two patch things up.” It was a direct order.
“It’ll be fine.”
But part of him said that having her angry at him was a good thing. They’d proved today that they could be civil to each other while the customers were there. And could retreat to their neutral corners when they were alone. Surely they could continue this routine until Finn returned.
