Page 69 of Two of a Kind


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“How so?” Maisie squinted suspiciously but was curious just the same.

“We’re both outsiders, married to prominent members of the Rock Creek Valley ranching community. Or at least I was until I got divorced. Forgive me for saying, but based on how hush-hush your nuptials have been kept, I can’t help but suspect you’re maybe heading in a similar direction.”

“I have no desire to hurt the Campbells or the Rock Creek community.” Maisie lifted her chin, looking down her nose at her unwanted companion. “As I see it, that makes usverydifferent.”

“Don’t you see? I’m not trying to sell the land to hurt anyone. I’m doing this for all of us.” Jolene spoke in a hushed voice, barely above a whisper, presumably so no one else could overhear. There was little chance of it since the shop remained empty. Maisie was grateful for this fact. “This is for the women who get burned when we divorce these no-good sons of bitches with their artificially low property value scam. We get hosed by judges who side with the ranchers and their century-old compact like it was handed down on golden tablets or something. When I walked away, I barely had two nickels to rub together. Bob’s death, which is terribly sad, of course, gives me a chance to change that for myself and to prevent it from happening to others. That makes me a goddamn hero.”

Maisie pressed her lips together, in the dark about most of what the woman was ranting over but not wanting to let on how ignorant she truly was. She picked at her cinnamon roll, tearing off a bite-sized chunk. “What do you want from me?”

“Assuming you have any, I want you to use your influence over Drew.”

Maisie laughed. “I thought you said you knew Drew. If that’s the case, you know the plan won’t work.” She popped the piece of cinnamon roll she’d been toying with into her mouth, following it with a second bite to prove she had no fear of anything going to her hips.

“Do you know what a bellwether is, Ms. Sullivan? Of course not,” Jolene added with a roll of her eyes. “Ranchers in these parts hate sheep. But a bellwether is a lead sheep, the one who wears a bell around its neck and the rest of the flock follows. When I said I knew Drew, I wasn’t making that up. What I know is she’s exactly like that bellwether. People listen. Now, she can’t stop what I’m doing with Whetstone Ranch, but she can make it easy or hard. I would prefer easy. All I’m asking is you use whatever influence you can to get her to stand back and not put up a fuss.”

“I can’t promise you anything. Drew is her own woman.” Maisie grabbed her coffee and what was left of the cinnamon roll and stood, her legs trembling a little beneath her from the stress of the encounter. “Now, I really do need to be on my way.”

Jolene gave Maisie a nod. “I appreciate your time.”

As Maisie left the shop, questions swirled in her head. It was obvious this woman planned to sell Bob’s ranch, but how was it supposed to help Maisie if she did? And what, if anything, did Drew already know? Even without understanding the nuances of what was going on, Maisie sensed Drew was not going to like whatever Jolene had up her sleeve.

Maisie wished she could discuss it with Drew, but something told her when it came to getting answers, especially in the form of words instead of shrugs, she was on her own.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Another day’swork had been completed, and Drew wanted to feel good about it. Instead, as she drove into Gillette to retrieve Maisie from her day of shopping, all she could picture was the hurt in Maisie’s eyes when she’d snapped at her over breakfast.

Which had been unacceptable.

Drew hadn’t been sleeping well, and she was under stress worrying about whatever diabolical schemes Jolene Davis and her lawyers had up their sleeves. That didn’t give Drew the right to yell at people. Especially not at Maisie, who had been working so hard on whatever it was she was doing on that computer all the time.

Just because it was different work than what Drew did, and they did it at different times of the day, didn’t make it any less valuable. Drew needed to tell Maisie that and do the one thing she was probably the worst at. Apologizing.

Maisie was waiting on a park bench where they’d arranged to meet, surrounded by shopping bags. So. Many. Bags. Despite just acknowledging her own shortcomings, Drew nearly lost her resolve to stay calm.How much stuff did one woman need?

“That, right there,” Drew muttered to herself as she pulled the truck alongside the curb, “is a perfect example of why you’ve got some apologizing to do.”

There was nothing wrong with Maisie, or anyone for that matter, wanting to go shopping. Sure, Drew would rather drop a hot branding iron on her bare foot, but that didn’t mean everyone had to feel that way. Given that Maisie had been at the Lazy C for three solid months now and this was her first time seeking out a little retail therapy, it hardly made her a shopaholic. If anything, Maisie might’ve been the most frugal woman Drew had ever met. How many times when they were in Vegas had Maisie questioned Drew about dropping cash she’d been all too willing to part with?

Fixing a pleasant smile on her face and hoping it would coax her mood to follow suit, Drew got out of the truck.

“Successful day at the shops?” Drew was smiling brightly now, but Maisie’s expression was wary, like she didn’t trust that Drew’s temper wouldn’t flare at any moment. Which was fair.

“I’m sure you’re in a hurry to get back.” Maisie hopped up, reaching for her bags, but Drew motioned for her to sit back down. Apologies worked best on neutral ground.

“Got a minute?” Drew held onto the brim of her hat, moving it clockwise on her head.

“According to you, I’ve got more time on my hands than anyone else on the ranch.” Maisie crossed her arms, and Drew couldn’t blame her. She’d been a total ass.

“I was wrong to say that.” Drew sank onto the bench beside Maisie. “I know how hard you work. Truly.”

Maisie sucked in a breath of air, but Drew wasn’t certain if that was because she was getting ready to accept Drew’s words at face value or if she was preparing for battle. Drew reckoned she should keep apologizing and not stop until maybe she’d managed to tilt things in her favor.

“I don’t know what gets into me sometimes. I really don’t. I lash out when stressed, and I didn’t mean it.”

“I want to believe you. I do.” Maisie flicked away one tear. “But you’re the first to point out to me how much I struggle with self-esteem, so when you attack like that, it hits hard. Much harder than it should, probably.”

“I really am sorry.” Drew tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. She felt like the worst person on the planet. “I was thinking maybe we could do something tonight, so I can prove to you I’m serious.”

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