One side of her smile faltered. It was a minuscule movement, but he caught it. He'd guessed her game.
She shrugged. "You said that last night." Bluffing. She was decent at it, but he was a master. "You gonna sit down?" she asked again.
He shook his head. Kept his weight leaning on the counter.
So she brought his plate to him. She'd rolled up two breakfast burritos and found some tiny china bowl that she'd filled with salsa. She'd garnished with a thin half-slice of tomato. Fancy.
She went back to the stove and started cleaning. "You know, a couple of those tractors down by the barn are antiques." She said the words in an offhand way that immediately put his hackles up.
"If you need cash to fix up this place, you could sell them."
He shook his head. "Nobody's gonna buy those rusted-out tractors."
She shot him a sideways glance as she moved her skillet to the sink. "There are people who'd pay a pretty penny for a refurbished antique tractor. And I just happen to be an expert at restoring old cars. I did a '72 Chevelle with my dad."
Aw. There was the catch. He'd known she was buttering him up for something with the breakfast spread.
"You're not staying." He pulled a paper towel from the roll on the counter and scooped up the two burritos. No use being wasteful. "I'll eat on my way to the barn. Once the cattle are accounted for, I'll drive you to town."
He shrugged into his coat in the mudroom and rushed outside, shutting the back door before he could see the disappointment in her expression. And breathed easier as soon as his boots hit the back porch even as the ice flakes falling from the sky hit his bare head. She'd run him out so fast, he'd left his hat.
Maybe she could cook, he admitted as he bit into one of the burritos. Who knew if she was telling the truth about working on a car with her dad?
It didn't matter. Because he had nothing left to give. He couldn't take care of somebody else. His latest ex, Emerson, had accused him of keeping himself shut off from her after she'd unloaded another emotional hurricane on him. He'd been exhausted from a week of late nights working to keep a job on deadline. What he'd needed was a quiet place to land, but she'd unleashed all her disappointments on him instead.
Maybe Mackie had been right all those times she'd told him he was broken.
Or maybe she was laughing from the grave.
Laughter was the last thing he was thinking about as he noticed the fence across the west pasture was down. One last cow was crossing the downed barbed wire. Seventy or so were already across, making tracks through the front pasture and down the road.
Cattle on the road were dangerous to drivers. Not to mention that his profit was walking down the dirt road.
He thrust his hand in his pocket. His keys weren't there. Where'd he left them?
He rushed back inside.
"What's going on?" Molly turned from the sink, her hands covered in suds.
He didn't have time to babysit and didn't even acknowledge Molly as he jogged through the kitchen. He left the half-eaten burrito on the counter.
His keys were in plain sight on top of the neat pile of papers she'd moved to the coffee table. Didn't stop him from grumbling as he pocketed them and stomped back through the kitchen.
He heard her call for him but didn't look back as he ran to his truck and fired it up.
He had to get those cattle back.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what had set Cord's butt on fire.
His cattle were out.
She'd noticed that fence last night. Maybe she should've said something about it.
Maybe he would've ignored her.
Now wasn't the time for what-if's.
She didn't have a working vehicle, but she wanted to help. So what if he hadn't changed his mind about letting her stay? It was the right thing to do.
She whistled for the dog as she rounded the house. They'd both been left behind.
"Are you a cattle dog?" she asked.
Her only answer was a wagging tail as she set off at a lope up the long drive.
Cord's truck was throwing up gravel dust. He'd gone south. At least three cows had gone north. He must've gone for the biggest payoff first.
She took the dog and went north. Skirted the first two cows easily, as they'd stopped to graze along the roadside. A lone critter had managed to hightail it down the road, and she urged the dog into a jog to go after it.
There was another drive a half-mile down the road, and a truck was exiting it.
Molly didn't even think about it. She whistled and yelled, waving her arms over her head.
And the driver must've seen her, because the truck headed her direction.
Thank goodness.
Molly kept one eye on the dog as the truck rolled slowly toward her. He gave a friendly wag as the window rolled down.
It was a woman.
Tension whooshed out of Molly.
"Howdy," she said. "Cord's cattle busted the fence. Any chance you can help us round them up?"
The woman's eyes cut behind Molly. Looking at the ranch house? She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I suppose it'd be the neighborly thing to do. I'm Iris. A friend of Cord's from a long time ago."
Molly extended her hand for a quick shake. "Molly. New friend. Very new."
At least she hoped he'd count her as a friend after this.
"That dog know anything about cattle?"
Molly shrugged. "I guess I'm going to find out."
The other woman nodded toward the cow meandering even further up the road. "I'll fetch your runaway."
"Thanks."
Molly left Iris to pull a three-point turn and focused on rounding up the two heifers. They were laid back, if a little skittish.
The two cows were mildly cooperative, and it didn't take long to drive them back through the gate.
There was no sign of Cord or more of his cattle. And
