Chapter Three
Kate sat stifflyin the pews beside her parents and her fourteen-year-old sister, Libby. She had one goal for the afternoon: get through the funeral without leaving streaks of mascara running down her cheeks like racetracks. She should have bought the waterproof kind, but she hadn’t expected to get so choked up. In the last seven years, she’d only spoken to her grandfather during holiday video calls. Always polite small talk.
As she sat in the chapel, emotion gripped her throat and made it hard to breathe. Not just grief, although that was there too. It was a feeling of deep disappointment. She’d always hoped that he would . . . she wasn’t exactly sure what . . . change, soften, apologize. Now, none of that could happen.
Her father was at the podium, giving a tribute. “He was the hardest working man I ever knew.”
True. Some people called that being a workaholic and went to therapy for it. A petty thought. She shouldn’t have petty thoughts at Grandpa’s funeral.
“He was unfailingly honest.” Her father paused. “Sometimes brutally honest.” Murmured chuckles went through the crowd. “But you always knew where you stood with him.”
Yes, Kate had. She’d known exactly where she’d stood with him and what he’d thought of her.
Instead of listening to the rest of her father’s talk—which would undoubtedly bring on a torrent of tears—she gazed around the church. A few of the faces were familiar, friends of her grandparents. She didn’t know anyone by name except for the Wyles. They sat off to the side, near enough to the front pews that they were almost in the section reserved for family.
I imagine it will be hard to bury your grandfather, what with him turning in his grave.
Honestly, Kate still couldn’t believe Landon had said that. But then, the guy had always been too arrogant for his own good. He was the sort that never made a mistake, not when he was shooting pigeons, roping cattle, or getting her in trouble. He’d always been her grandfather’s favorite. Responsible, dependable Landon.
When she was younger, she’d been in awe of his rugged good looks: blond hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that you could write love songs about. Even all these years later, being in the same room with him made her feel as though her confidence and poise were a sham. She became a clumsy, awkward teenager again instead of a twenty-two-year-old with a job at one of Seattle’s premier interior design studios.
Kate had some good memories of her summers in Arizona. Why did looking at Landon only bring back the bad ones? Or ratherthebad one. Well, perhaps that wasn’t really a mystery. He’d been involved in her worst ranch memory—one foolish mistake on her part—but somehow it was so big it overshadowed every other lazy, contented day she’d spent on Coyote Glen.
The ill-fated cattle drive. She’d begged her grandfather to let her go on one from the time she was eight years old. Grandpa had always told her she was too young, and her parents had never wanted her to miss school for it anyway.
Just after her fifteenth birthday, they’d both relented. After the calves had been branded, she could help take the cattle to the summer rangeland.
Fifteen had been a time for firsts. It was the year she’d grown four inches, lost weight, and gotten contacts. It was the first time she’d liked the way she looked in pictures and the first time boys at her school started paying attention to her. It was also the first time her mother made sure to preapprove all of the clothes she took with her to the ranch and made sure her shorts weren’t too short. Since Kate had developed a figure, that sort of thing suddenly mattered.
Kate hadn’t known why her mother was so worried. The only guys she saw regularly during her summer stays in Arizona were the Wyle brothers, and they wouldn’t have noticed her if she was on fire. They were all too old, too busy, and too handsome to pay attention to her. Well, except for Jaxon.
He’d been the most social of the brothers, and since he was only two years older, he didn’t mind her tagging along if she agreed to help him with his chores. She’d been a good audience when he did questionable things like tie a rope to the barn rafters and swing around the place like Tarzan.
When she showed up to Coyote Glen for the cattle drive, Jaxon did an actual double take when he saw her. “Whoa girl, what have you done with yourself?”
She looked down at her clothes, wondering what he was talking about. “I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. What do you mean?”
“I mean you grew up.”
“It happens,” Kate said. “I have an arrangement with Father Time.”
Jaxon’s gaze kept sweeping over her, but she didn’t mind the way that felt. It was a compliment. “Father Time isn’t as kind to some,” he said. “Clearly, you’re daddy’s favorite.”
Landon walked over to them, hauling a saddle. His shoulders seemed to grow broader every time she saw him, and the sun had streaked highlights into his blond hair that would have made any girl envious. He had a shadow of stubble on his chin, a reminder that he was almost twenty. So grown up. And if possible, even more handsome than his brothers.
“Those hay bales won’t move themselves,” Landon told Jaxon. He gave Kate a polite nod. Then he stopped in his tracks and his gaze shot back to her.
“I know,” she said. “I grew a bunch and stopped wearing glasses. Half of Grandpa’s men didn’t recognize me.”
Landon shook his head. “And this is the year your grandfather decided you should travel with the ranch hands?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I’m fifteen. I’m old enough to help.”
“Right.” Landon gave her a smile that seemed strained and not at all happy about her addition to the group. “See you later.” As he walked away, he shook his head again and uttered, “Mercy, this is just what we need.”
She didn’t understand his reaction and supposed he still thought of her as incapable of doing hard things like shooting pigeons.
She did fair enough on her first day. She worked well with the other riders, keeping the cattle moving in the right direction. None wandered off, darted away, or had any injuries. She had no unfortunate run-ins with prickly pear and wasn’t even all that saddle sore.