Grace grimaced as she thanked the caterer who’d given her a ride home and headed for the ol’ Stud Farm.
The truth was that she’d managed not to think about him when she was too busy to think, so she’d volunteered for every single bit of work that Eve had mentioned even as an idea. Their duties on-site were winding down, but there was still paperwork to babysit and copies to make and forgotten items to run out to sites.
Eve had been taking pictures for the production team at the river, so luckily, most of Grace’s hours had been spent there. She’d only had to stop at the ranch once, and she’d happened by at a lucky moment. Cole had been walking away with Madeline, heading out toward the horses.
Things were no better between those two, it seemed. Their body language had been tense as they’d talked.
Thank God his back had been turned, because the sight of Cole had caused Grace to nearly stumble to a stop. How could she already know the shape of him and the way he moved his hands in the barest of expression as he talked? How could she immediately recognize the way he held his jaw, despite the fact that his face was shaded by the brim of his hat?
And why did that recognition set off some awful resonance inside her chest? It was a terrible, subtle vibration that traveled through her belly and turned her on like a switch.
“Damn,” she murmured as she let herself into her apartment. It wasn’t quite six yet. Eve had sent her home early. Good thing, because she could relax for a little while without worrying about running into Cole.
And relaxing was just what she planned to do. But first, she had some errands to run. Starting with the bank, to cash her first check. An hour later, she was the proud owner of a used air mattress and folding chair, a tiny two-cup coffeemaker, one saucepan and ten packs of ramen noodles. The fifteenth was payday, it seemed, and she needed to use a tiny bit of the money to take care of herself.
Grace cooked up a big bowl of noodles and sat in front of her open window in her new chair to watch the world go by as she ate.
Well, not much of the world. But at least six cars passed, and a pack of motorcycles rolled by. Two of them parked in front of the saloon. Wednesday was five-dollar pitcher night.
“I have five dollars,” she said to her empty bowl. She smiled, not at the thought of beer, but at the thought of having a choice. Music glided over as the wind shifted, tempting her further.
“Oh, what the hell.” She’d started the day off in her underwear in a hallway. That seemed like the kind of day that should end with a beer.
She carefully cleaned up her kitchen, setting up her tiny coffeemaker in a corner as if she needed to conserve counter space. Then she changed into a T-shirt and her heeled boots and touched up her makeup before heading over to the Crooked R.
The place was packed.
A man was behind the bar for a change, though Grace caught a glimpse of Jenny weaving between crowded tables. “Hey, girl!” she called when she spotted Grace. “You sure got Rayleen riled up today!”
Grace groaned and shook her head. Jenny couldn’t hear her, but apparently Grace’s expression was clear enough, because Jenny laughed so hard, her tray nearly tilted into disaster.
Smiling, Grace looked around for a place to sit, and her eye caught on Shane, who was standing at the bar. He held up a pitcher and pointed at it, offering to share. She almost shook her head no.
But she didn’t know anyone else in the place, so Grace tilted her head and began to work her way toward him. Too late, she saw that Aunt Rayleen was at her usual table. And the man Grace had met that morning in her underwear was standing just behind Shane.
Shane seemed to read the foul word that formed on Grace’s lips, and his eyebrow rose in question. Well, if he hadn’t heard the story, she wasn’t going to inform him.
But that was wishful thinking, of course.
“Hey, Grace,” he said, “you putting on daily shows in the hallway now? I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s performance.”
“Funny,” she muttered as she took the beer he offered. “Thanks.”
Rayleen gathered up a stack of cards and glanced up as she shuffled them. “Well, there she is. Miss America.”
“Aunt Rayleen,” Grace said and sighed.
“I see you’re not too big for your britches after all. Guess there must have been a mix-up this morning.”
“Hey,” Lewis interrupted, stepping around Shane to offer a hand. “I thought I’d reintroduce myself. I’m Lewis MacIntosh. It’s good to meet you, Grace. Again.”
She shook his hand and murmured hello.
“Sorry we weren’t introduced before today. I was down in Denver for a few days. I’m actually moving next month.”
“Good riddance,” Rayleen interrupted. “Go on. Perpetuate a fraud on some other old woman.”
Grace leaned a little closer to Lewis and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I see she doesn’t like you much either.”