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“So, you haven’t been sweet on Beau since you were kids?”
My words faltered. I snapped my mouth shut, knowing that my denial would be a lie. I couldn’t do that to Cody. Not after what I was already putting him through.
“Who told you that?” I demanded, my voice raw and hoarse.
He shrugged and smoothed out the brim of his hat again, placing it on his head.
“Plenty of people in town say so. They claim it’s only a matter of time before Beau wears you down.”
“People talk. That doesn’t make it true.”
“You’re right. But you haven’t denied it either. I guess that means there’s a grain of truth hidden in all that gossip after all.”
I made a noise of frustration.
“Cody—”
“It’s okay. I’d better get back to work.”
Before I could protest, he turned and slipped out the door. I groaned and leaned back against the counter.
If I didn’t get my head on straight, I would lose any hope of a bright future with someone else, someone who could make me happy. All because I was stuck on Beau.
Chapter Seven
Beau
Despite my injuries, I managed to pull a decent amount of weight around the ranch anyway. The horses needed grooming, saddles needed to be cleaned and oiled, and the bunkhouse could use a good scrubbing, which hadn’t happened in…well, probably never.
I couldn’t help noticing that Cody was more subdued than usual. At first, I thought he didn’t feel like talking after taking fourth place in the bull-riding competition. It must have left a sting to set his sights on that first-place prize, only to fall short.
Until I overhead him talking to Bowen about it and how he wasn’t disappointed at all. The money would have been nice, but he was proud of finishing fourth, and walking away uninjured.
He didn’t breathe a word about Rory, though. For all his talk about finally turning his luck around and getting a girlfriend, he didn’t seem willing to offer up details now that he’d made out with Rory at the rodeo.
I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to know, so I didn’t ask. And Cody didn’t volunteer any information.
Nearly a week after the rodeo, the ranch hands were busy herding cattle down from the pastures to the barn for a routine checkup. I sat on the sidelines with a clipboard on my knee, taking note of the cattle that would be sold at auction later in the summer.
Behind me came the crunch of tires on gravel. Engrossed in my work, I didn’t pay much attention until a familiar voice rang out.
“Is anybody home?”
I twisted around to see my mother’s smiling face, with a massive crockpot balanced on her hip, and a Bread & Butter Bakery bag resting on top. At nearly seventy years old, she was still spry and sharp as a whip. Her long brown hair had gone gray years ago. Now it was cut in a short, bouncy bob at her chin, highlighting the witty gleam in her eyes.
I hurried over and wrapped her in a hug, kissing her temple.
“Ma, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to stop by and see my son. Is this a bad time? I brought some beef stew and cornbread for you and the other ranch hands, but I can leave it in the bunkhouse and you can get to it when you’re ready.”
“No, no, it’s fine. We’ll be stopping for dinner soon anyway. Can I take that for you?”
Ma lightly swatted at my hand.
“Don’t even think about it, boy. You’re not carrying a damn thing. I heard what happened at the rodeo.”
I sighed and took her by the elbow, guiding her toward the bunkhouse.
