“Your dad died in jail.”
Steel sighed. Hung his head a moment. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? I don’t want him to have died for nothing.”
Liam thought about this. “You mean my father didn’t manage to get the job done—whatever it was they were working on.”
“He thought he did,” Steel said almost apologetically, which was strange given their positions. “Unfortunately, he was wrong. Now it’s up to me.”
“I’d like to help.”
Steel opened his mouth. Seemed to think better of what he was going to say. “Let me ask you something,” he said instead. “How serious are you about my sister?”
“Serious.”
After a moment, Steel nodded. “Then I want you to stay the hell away from this ranch until I say otherwise. And keep Tory away, too. I’ll get it done. I promise. You just make sure you keep her safe—and don’t break her heart.”
A week had passed since Tory had decided not to run away. A week in which she’d barely heard from Steel, except one fleeting conversation on the phone in which he’d told her to keep well away from the Ridley property—and to keep her mouth shut if she knew what was good for the family.
“You going to take us all down with you?” she’d shot back at him.
“No” was all he’d said. “Not unless someone trips me up.”
The implication was clear.
That same day, Liam texted her: I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. Can I give you a call?
She stared at the message a long time before she answered, Sure.
Her phone trilled a minute later. “I’ve missed you,” Liam said without preamble, “and I know you didn’t come back to Chance Creek to get into trouble. I don’t know why I said that.”
“You were afraid something bad was going to happen. I’m afraid, too.”
“I talked to Steel.”
“Really?” She tried to picture that confrontation.
“He says he’s trying to finish up something our fathers started. Told me to stay the hell away from the Ridley property.”
“Me, too.”
“What do you think we should do?”
Tory paced her small bedroom. “Honestly? I think we should leave it alone. We’re not part of whatever he’s doing. We’re both working on building up our families—and this town. If he wants to break the law, that’s his business. I’m tired of worrying about everyone else. I want to focus on my own future.”
“Heard you were working for Jonah Winters.”
Tory wondered where Liam was. Was he stretched out on his bed calling her? When they’d worked together in his room, she’d found her attention straying to it more than once. What would it be like to share it with him?
She sat down on her own bed.
“Mom helped me get the work. I’m going in three days a week for now.”
“Do you like it?”
“I do,” she said. It was surprisingly interesting to be a part of the small—and large—concerns of the citizens of the town. Maybe it wasn’t as exciting as working for a big firm could be, but she’d found the work engaging so far.
Liam was quiet a moment. “Wish I was with you.”
“Wish you were, too.”
Neither of them suggested meeting, but after that they talked or texted most days. Tory wondered if Liam was waiting to see what happened at the Ridley property before he asked her out again. She told herself it was for the best. She wasn’t here for the long term. She shouldn’t be starting a relationship she knew couldn’t last.
That didn’t mean she didn’t rush to answer Liam’s call when her phone buzzed in her pocket late one evening.
“Hi,” she said, wondering why seeing Liam’s name on her phone made her so happy.
“I can’t stand much more of this,” Liam said.
Tory’s heart dropped. “Much more of what?”
“Much more of being over here when you’re over there. Can I come get you?”
She smiled. “To do what?”
“I’ll throw some blankets in the back of my truck. We’ll drive out of town. Park somewhere. Do some stargazing.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be outside waiting.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Stargazing was one of his best ideas ever, Liam mused as he lay on his back next to Tory in the bed of his truck and took in the show overhead. They’d driven as far away from town as they could get in a half hour. He’d piled up his camping mats and several old blankets and comforters in the bed to make a soft nest for them. He’d added pillows for good measure. With Tory tucked under his arm and a billion stars twinkling in the sky, he figured he had to be in heaven.
“What’s your favorite food?” Tory asked.
“You going to cook for me?”
“Just want to think of anything other than the Ridley property, the Founder’s Prize, my mother and all the rest of that stuff.”
“Good idea.” He thought about it. “Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“Are you serious?” Tory pushed up on an elbow to look at him. “Grilled cheese?”
“Best food ever after a long day working outside in cold weather. What about you?”
“I like Fila’s food a lot. Anything spicy. I don’t cook much myself, though.”
“I’m a fairly good cook. What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Country. What else?”
“I kinda like classic rock better,” Liam admitted.
“What’s your favorite book? Do you even have a favorite book?”
“Anything by Stephen King.”
Tory made a face. “Way too scary for me,” she said.
“What about you? What do you read?” He went up on one elbow, too, and traced her jaw with his finger.
“Historical fiction. And horse stories,” she added sheepishly. “I like horse stories.”
“I like you,” he said and pulled her closer. “A lot.”
“I like you, too.”
“What are we going to do about that?” He claimed a long, slow, searching kiss. It was killing him to be so close
