Page 7 of Escaping the Past


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“It’s not about what I did, Jeb. It’s about what she has done. She’s not what she seems. I can tell it. There’s something I don’t trust about her.”

Jeb took a deep breath and looked Brody in the eye. “Say again?”

“She must have y’all snowed, Jeb. Those calf eyes and the ponytail make her seem so innocent.”

“Boy,” Jeb began. Brody clenched his jaw at the comment, yet the man continued his speech. “You don’t deserve to know but I’m going to tell you anyway just to set my own mind at ease. She came here when she was almost nineteen years old. She had a two-month-old baby and no home. I found her lying in the middle of the road and brought her here. We have all been happy with her being here ever since. She didn’t know much about life and she knew even less about mothering. But she learned. Your mother saw some potential in her and made sure she had an education and a roof over her head. She had a built-in family with Sadie and me and John and your ma. She pays us back for it every single day, although we have never asked her to. We get the pleasure of her company and we get to see the benefits of her hard work.

Jeb took a deep breath as he continued. “That girl puts in more work on the ranch than any five hands we have out at the barn. She gets up with the chickens to save Sadie from having to haul food for the hands, and that’s not even part of her job. She’ll be here again at lunchtime, no doubt, for just the same reason. Her job here is to take care of the finances for the stables and the crew. She makes sure they all get paid well and on time but she’s worth more than that. Both she and her daughter are a part of Western Skies. That’s more than I can say for you.” Jeb placed his hat on his head and walked out the backdoor. Brody winced as the screen door slammed.

He turned to Sadie. She shook her head in disappointment. “I thought better of you, son.”

“Sadie, I didn’t know,” Brody said.

“Now you do,” she said and walked out the door.

****

Lou stormed through the door of her room and flopped on the edge of the bed. Her shoes hit the floor with a bang and her socks followed.

“The nerve of some people,” she hissed before she stepped into the bathroom. Her breath still rushed in anger as she flung clothes off with abandon. “I’ve lived and worked here for years, and he comes home for a day and judges me.” She turned on the shower spray and placed her closed fist beneath the spray, testing for warmth. Her anger pulsed against the warm water until she stepped beneath it. The warmth hit her face and she placed both elbows against the wall, resting her weight against them. Only then did she start to relax.

She allowed the water to pour over her face and shoulders. The water served to wash away the sweat from the run as well as the tension in her body. She let his hateful words and antagonism wash down the drain. Taking deep breaths, she soaped her hair and washed her face, then applied scented shower gel to her legs and arms.

She stepped from the shower feeling much calmer and wrung her wet hair like a rope, removing most of the water. She then bent forward and wrapped a towel around the brown mass of hair. Lou wrapped her body in another towel and tucked it between her breasts. She then moved to the wardrobe to choose her clothing. She bent to open the bottom drawer and heard a rap on the door.

She heard her name called just as she saw the door handle jiggle. She turned, her bottom still in the air and was about to call out for whomever was on the other side to wait a moment when the door opened, and a blond head with a square jaw popped through. Flint-colored eyes met her own.

****

She gasped and reached to cover her breasts, even though they were well shielded from his gaze by the fluffy towel.

She shrieked. “Get out!”

“Oh, God.” He closed his eyes but his head did not retreat. Her image was already burned on the inside of his eyelids. “I just came to apologize. I’m sorry. I’ll come back later.” He pulled his head back and something hit the door. Did she throw a shoe at him? On purpose?

Brody stood outside the door and could hear her curses from inside the room. His blood ran hot at the thought of her little bottom bent over in front of the wardrobe. He could see the curve of her rear in his mind’s eye. When she stood up, he could see the cleft between her breasts, clenched tightly by the towel so they created small swells above the material. He shook his head to get rid of the image, but then his thoughts just jumped to her long, golden legs. In his head, he imagined them bare, and they seemed to be a mile long with no pants to mar the lines. He shook his head again.

Brody turned to walk down the hallway and couldn’t suppress the grin that stole across his face. He also couldn’t suppress the urge to adjust the fit of his pants.

****

Lou, freshly showered and dressed, applied a light bit of makeup and dried and brushed her hair until it shone. She left her room and took the stairs down to the library where her desk and files were located. Late mornings and early afternoons were reserved for office work. She often took a small break to help Sadie put lunch on the table but rarely stopped to eat more than a bite herself.

She turned to enter her office and was stunned to find her chair was turned backward and someone with broad shoulders was sitting at her desk. The figure in her chair turned and Lou groaned inwardly when she realized who it was. Broden Wester, III was reclining in her chair, talking on the phone. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tapped her foot lightly as she waited for him to surrender her work area.

“I’ll just be a minute,” he said, covering the mouthpiece and stretching his long legs so he could put his feet on her desk. Of all the nerve!

Lou decided it wasn’t worth the argument and walked beside the desk to retrieve a file so she could take it to the kitchen and work. She knocked his feet off the top of her desk with a gentle shove and opened the file drawer to the right of the chair in which he sat. The drawer bumped his knees so he turned slightly to the front to avoid a second blow. Her elbow brushed his thigh as he turned. He instantly reacted and flexed his thigh muscle in response.

She heard his indrawn breath and wondered if he was agitated because of her interruption, or if he had felt the same heat she did when their skin touched. She bet it was the former.

“Dr. Jones, can I call you back later today? Yes. I have some notes I need to review and then I’ll get back with you. Thanks for understanding. Yes. This is a very trying time. I appreciate your help.” He hung up the phone and his steely eyes met hers.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she clipped out.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?”

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