"I'm practically a silent partner," Haley clarified. "Livy is the brain behind the business."
"I'm an official taste-tester," Ryan added. "It's an unpaid job, but I'm willing to sacrifice for the good of the company."
Livy giggled.
"The perks mostly outweigh the disadvantages. There was one flavor…pistachio something…" Ryan made a funny face, indicating his displeasure.
"As I remember, you have an iron stomach," Ashley said.
"It wasn't my stomach that objected. My tastebuds were still complaining the next day."
"Maybe you should've brushed your teeth, Mr. College Grad," Justin offered. "Now you've got a fancy degree, you're gonna have to use those brains it's taken so long to buy."
Ryan took the good-natured ribbing in stride. "It'll be your turn next, cuz."
"What's your job?" Livy asked, turning to Ashley.
Ryan quieted beside her.
"I used to be in the military."
Livy's eyes got wide. "Like a soldier?"
"Mm-hmm. I worked with a partner, my dog, Atlas. He sniffed out bombs and other things the bad guys didn't want us to find."
"So did you train him yourself?" asked Haley. "I might need to get some tips. Maddox has a huge beast of a dog that could use a little obedience training."
"Emmie wouldn't hurt a fly," Maddox said mildly.
Ryan said, "Ashley broke up a fight between this huge Rotty and a Golden Retriever the other day when the vet was down at the feed store." He turned to her. "Dog training might be right up your alley."
She raised both brows at him. "With one arm?" she asked in a low voice.
He shrugged. "Doesn't affect you with Atlas."
"He's already trained."
His eyes creased as he smiled and changed the subject.
But his comment stuck in her mind.
After dinner, when Maddox's family and Justin took their leave, Ashley and Ryan were left in the curve of the big booth together. The noise of the restaurant had faded some as the evening passed, and families made way for couples dining together.
She turned toward him and bent her knee on the seat between them and rested her arm on the top of the booth.
He was still as close as he had been when the curved booth had been filled with people. He moved his hand to cup her knee and gently squeezed.
"Thanks for coming out with me today."
"You should've told me. I would've brought a card or a gift or something."
"I don't need a gift," he squeezed her knee once more. "You being here was all the gift I wanted."
Warmth slid into her cheeks. "I'm a little surprised Mom and Dad didn't know."
He shrugged. "I didn't want to make a big deal of it."
"It is a big deal."
His humility was just another thing to like about him.
A young man in a pair of Wranglers and a plaid shirt with silver snaps—a cowboy shirt—approached the table. "Hey, buddy. What's up?"
Ryan introduced Ashley to his friend, a guy about his age named Luke. They slid out of the booth, ready to go, and Luke followed them to the door. Ryan held the door for her, then clasped her wrist after she stepped into the warm night air. His palm slid against hers, and he intertwined their fingers. He was still talking to his friend, but she had a hard time following the conversation, too focused on the feel of his warm hand enveloping hers.
Yes, she liked Ryan. More and more the longer she was around him.
But holding hands like this? Anyone could see them. Okay, so it was practically dark and the parking lot was nearly deserted. Still…
She was lost in the terrifying joy of holding hands with Ryan when Luke's words broke into her thoughts. "…harvesting the farm next Saturday."
Hadn't her mom had told her the person leasing their farm was going to harvest on that day?
She started shivering.
Surely not. Surely, if Ryan were leasing her parents' land, he would have told her about it.
Ryan cast her a cursory glance, then turned back to Luke, not noticing that anything was wrong. "That's the plan."
Ryan was the lease holder? Why wouldn't he have told her about that? Seemed every time she turned around, she was learning something about him—something he'd hidden from her. He hadn't exactly been secretive about his college classes or graduation, but he hadn't been forthcoming either.
But his life was so intertwined with her parents. The business, the meals, the rides. If everything were on the up and up, why all the secrecy?
And then she remembered how he'd blanked the computer screen when she'd surprised him at the office, as if he hadn't wanted her to see what he'd been doing.
No, Ryan wouldn't do anything unethical. But she couldn't stop her mind from whirling, speeding ahead. Hadn't she been concerned enough to track his hours at the feed store this week by hand?
He laughed at something Luke said. "Sounds good. See you later, man." They watched as the man crossed the parking lot, climbed into his car, and drove away. When he looked back at her, his expression registered concern.
"What's up?" he asked.
"You're harvesting next Saturday afternoon?"
He nodded, expression shuttered.
"My parents' place is being harvested next Saturday."
"Yeah." This time he barely breathed the word.
"You're harvesting my parents' place," she concluded. "You're the lessee."
He nodded again. "Yeah. I was going to tell you."
"When?" she breathed. She ripped her hand away from him.
"I don't know." He turned in profile to her and ran one hand through his hair. "When the timing was better, I guess. I didn't want you to think—"
"Are you—" She couldn't get the words out the first time and had to clear her throat. "Are you taking advantage of my parents?"
He'd started to turn back to her when she spoke, but he froze at her words. All the expression faded from his face.
"Is that really what you think about me? After everything?"
His voice was even, but she'd have to be deaf not to hear the undertone of hurt.
But she was confused, and afraid, too.
"I know you've been falsifying your timecards." She didn't actually have proof. This was the first week she'd kept track of his daily hours, and the week wouldn't roll over until tomorrow.
He held her gaze until she looked away. The back of her eyes were hot, like she was on the verge of tears. But that couldn't be right, either. She didn't care that much, did she?
She cleared her throat again. "Why didn't you tell me about the lease, if it was on the up-and-up?"
He turned away, his shoulders stiff. "I told you everything. In the letters."
"That doesn't count." Her voice was tight. "You should've told me everything that first day when we were driving home from the airport. But instead, you held it back." Then a horrible idea occurred to her, and it almost made her knees buckle. "Okay, so if the contract is fair to my parents, were you…were you keeping it from me like some kind of ace in the hole or something? If you couldn't win me any other way, you'd tell me about the lease and guilt me into liking you?"
Not that he'd needed to. She'd liked him just fine.
He stuffed his hat on his head. Didn't turn to her or make a joke. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, resigned. "Honey, if you really think I'm the kind of person who would cheat Joe and Mary, then I guess I didn't have a chance from the start."
Silently, he led the way through the gravel lot to his truck. He held the door for her but kept his head down so his Stetson hid his eyes.
He drove her home, his expression neutral and his eyes on the road. It was the quietest ride she'd ever spent with him.
Maybe she'd hurt him with her accusations, but didn't she deserve the truth?
When he pulled into her parents' drive, she pushed open the door before he'd had a chance to shift into park. "I'm going to call Mom's lawyer tomorrow," she said quietly, then jumped out be
fore he could respond.
Her face burned, and she still felt on the edge of tears as she jogged up the steps to the porch. She expected to hear his tires crunch along the road, but instead, he killed his ignition. She heard his door open just as she reached for the knob.
"Ashley!" His voice was hoarse, full of emotion.
She couldn't face him. Not now.
"Ash." His voice had gone to a lower register, like he could barely get the syllable out.
She turned back at the nickname he so rarely used. He stood with one leg still in the truck, one elbow propped over the open door. His hat cast a shadow over his face, so she couldn't see his eyes.
Would he confess to taking advantage of her parents? To the timecard scheme—or to…whatever it was he was hiding?
"I'll save you the trouble," he said into the darkness. "Your mom keeps all her legal documents in the bottom desk drawer. The locked one. The key is in a little bowl on top of the bookshelf."
Of course he knew that. Because her mom trusted him. But Ashley didn't. Couldn't.
She couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. She rushed inside and slammed the door behind her, then leaned against the inside of the door for long minutes until his truck started up and the sound of its engine faded away.
No one was awake, but her mom had left the kitchen light on. Ash flipped on the office light, squinting in the brightness after the dim truck and interior of the house. The key was right where Ryan had said it would be, but it stuck in the drawer. Angry, so full of emotions, she twisted it violently with her left hand. Then jimmied it. Finally, the lock disengaged and the drawer opened. She flipped through the documents, agonizingly slowly as she maneuvered her fingers to see between the pages.
Bills. Bank statements. A last will and testament and a power of attorney over her father were there, and she blinked back hot moisture that was blurring her vision. She couldn't think about her dad right now. Right behind those, she found the lease in a plain, unmarked manila folder.
The terms didn't make sense. She pulled the drawer open with too much force and pencils and blank white paper spilled across the floor.
She scrubbed at the moisture scalding her cheeks. When she'd settled with her back against the wall with a blank sheet of notebook paper and a pencil, she laboriously wrote the terms out in two columns. And then she'd stared at her little-kid handwriting, confused, even though the truth was right there, in front of her eyes.
She'd been right—partially. It wasn't a fair contract. One party benefited more than the other.
The lease wasn't in Ryan's favor. It was in her parents'.
He lost money most seasons. In a good year, he might break even.
Her nose stung and her heart thudded. A snuffle from the door alerted her she wasn't alone as Atlas padded in.
She slung her arm over his neck, taking comfort in his familiar presence. She knew what she wanted to do. Because she had to know.
And she was still dressed.
She slipped Atlas's leash on and took him for a walk. In the dark. The whole three-quarters of a mile to the feed store. Inside, she flipped on the lights in the back and turned off the emergency alarm. Then she headed straight to the office.
It only took a few minutes to boot the computer and pull up the time-entry program. She glanced at the post-it note she'd used to jot down the actual hours Ryan had spent at the feed store working. Her total was 61.25. And it didn't take a genius to see that yes, he'd fixed his timecard. He'd taken off hours to show that he'd worked exactly forty. She knew from talking with her mom that Ryan got paid by the hour, not a flat salary. Her father had put the arrangement in place because he didn't want to take advantage of Ryan.
But Ryan was taking advantage of himself.
She scrolled back weeks, then months. Ryan's timecard showed forty hours on the dot each week, when all the other employees' showed variations.
She sat back in the office chair and rested her hand on Atlas's head.
He wasn't cheating her parents.
He was cheating himself.
Why?
Chapter Seven
Two hours later, Ashley was no closer to sleep.
Even in the dark, her eyes strayed to the drawer where she'd stowed Ryan's stack of letters.
He'd done as he'd promised all those years ago. He'd sent her one a week for the entire time she'd been on active duty.
And she'd never read a one of them.
She'd handled them some. Sometimes, when she'd been particularly homesick, she'd take one out of her belongings and look at his masculine scrawl on the address lines. Sometimes, she'd even touched the writing.
But she'd never opened one of them.
What had she been afraid of? That was easy. She'd been afraid of missing home too much. She'd been afraid that reading his words would make her second-guess her career choice and wish she'd stayed in Redbud Trails.
And maybe they would have, or maybe not.
Had she been afraid that she'd fall for him if she read his letters?
Maybe. She'd reluctantly liked him back in high school, but she'd put him off because of the age difference between them.
But while she was in the service, he grew up. They both had.
And she'd fallen for him, anyway, now that she was home.
She ripped the first envelope, trying to get the letter out with only one hand to work with. Thankfully the sheet of paper inside hadn't torn. She was determined to find out why he'd done what he had for her parents, and fearing she already knew the answer.
Dear Ashley,
I can't believe you're really gone. I miss you so much.
She stopped. Checked the postmark date. Yes, it was the first letter. He'd written it when he'd been seventeen. And he'd really said that he missed her.
The new guy your parents hired is never on time, and I haven't been getting my breaks.
She snorted a laugh. That was more like the Ryan she knew.
Also, I've heard a couple of new jokes you might like. Here's one: Why can't a bankrupt cowboy complain? Because he's got no beef. Are you laughing? I bet you are. Anyway, I thought you might like to know your mom and dad are fine. A little sad, but we all are. When do you get leave? Hope it's at Christmas. I can't wait to see what you bring me.
With love,
Cowboy
Ashley painstakingly opened and flipped through several of the letters. They were all signed the same way. With love, Cowboy.
Maybe it was a good thing she hadn't read this first one when she was nineteen. She might've tossed it and never seen what he was telling her back then.
She read a few more, then found this one.
Dear Ashley,
It's your birthday, Sweet-Pea. I overheard your dad talking to you on the phone and shouted a greeting. Did you hear me? I don't know if your mom has told you, but your dad's Alzheimer's is getting worse. He's forgetting orders, forgot to approve the paychecks one week. It wasn't that big a deal for me, but one of the other guys was counting on cashing his that day.
She could guess who'd floated that employee a loan. Ryan.
And he's wandered off a couple times. I followed him into the library once, and he had no idea why he'd gone in there. I'm trying to help the best I can, but… You should come home. Take leave, if you can. Your mom needs the support. And maybe some changes need to be made around the store. I've been thinking about you a lot. I miss you. Your smile, the way you roll your eyes at me when I make a dumb joke. Stay safe!
With love,
Cowboy
There was one from two years back, about the lease.
Your parents have leased me the farm to run alfalfa. It won't make me a whole lot of money, but Joe and Mary need the income and it was sitting dormant.
In one envelope she found a collection of comic strips, clipped out of the local newspaper. And most of them made her chuckle.
Then there was one dated just before she'd lost her arm.
Dear Ashley,<
br />
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your mom's had a heart attack. The doctors said it was mild, and she should be fine in a few weeks. I didn't want you to worry, but I thought you should know. I'm taking care of the feed store and helping with your dad when I can, so there's not a lot to worry about there. Take care of yourself, I hope I get to see you sometime soon.
With love,
Cowboy
She read until her eyes drooped in the lamplight from exhaustion. She'd cried several times.
All this time, she'd thought Ryan was a flake. Working at the same place he'd started at in high school. She'd thought he'd been a college dropout. But the truth was, he'd been there for her parents when she couldn't. He'd pretty much single-handedly kept the store running, even changing his college plans to do so.
He'd brought her mom to her in the hospital when Ashley had been on the edge of survival.
He'd proved his love for her over and over, even when she hadn't been paying attention.
And she'd tossed it all back in his face tonight.
Deep in her heart, she'd known he wasn't capable of cheating her parents. That's not who he was. But she'd been scared of her feelings.
Scared that she loved him.
And sometimes the people you loved could hurt you. She'd learned that when she'd discovered she was adopted, discovered that her parents had been lying to her for her entire life. And though she'd forgiven them, now her dad had Alzheimer's. He was slipping away before her very eyes. Her mother, too, with the heart attack. Loving someone made you vulnerable. Ashley didn't like to be vulnerable.
But she also didn't like the thought of her life without Ryan in it.
He'd made himself invaluable to her. Like air.
She loved him. She loved the man she'd grown to know through the letters and through his actions since she'd been home. If she'd read the letters earlier, would her heart have already been his? She couldn't answer that. She hadn't been ready. Not until now.
With Love, Cowboy [Love Letters from Cowboy] Page 6
