"I like it here in Taylor Hills. Don't you?" Megan asked. They'd all needed a change from the city. The long hours her job had required had been too much, and every time they’d driven by a familiar place, it hurt toomuch.
"Yeah," Julianne saidsoftly.
"The rules suck," Brady said, chin popping updefiantly.
Well. At least she knew how he reallyfelt.
"I know things are different with me in charge, but therules—"
"Mom and Dad didn't have so manyrules."
"I'm not Emma." She tried to get the words out evenly, but a catch in her throat betrayed her emotion. She never wouldbe.
But maybe for this moment, right now, she shouldn't be focusing on therules.
"Could we call a truce?" she offered. "No more runningaway."
Brady still stared at the bedspread, but noddedslowly.
And Megan swallowed back herfears.
"Would you like to take riding lessons?" sheasked.
Julianne bounced off the bed with the force of herenthusiasm.
And Brady looked straight at Megan. She couldn't miss the hope shining from hiseyes.
Sunday afternoon,Dan had one of the stock geldings tied off in the barn aisle and was picking and brushing its hooves, clearing them of dirt and small rocks, when a shadow fell overhim.
He didn't have to look up to know it wasNate.
"Today's your day off. What d'you think you'redoing?"
He kept his head down, concentrating on histask.
Nate waited him out. Dan knew he'd stand there all day if he had to. Stubborncuss.
"There's always work to be done," he said evenly. "Even on aSunday."
He didn't answer the unspoken question.When are you gonna leave the ranch? When are you gonna mess up again?He didn't ask what Nate was doing here. It was his day off, too, and Nate had proved to be a family man through and through in the months that Dan had been back on thespread.
"Finish up. We need totalk."
Nate stalked off leaving Dan bristling at his order. It was the work of a few minutes to put the old boy back in his stall, but Dan worked the latch as slowly as hecould.
He couldn't avoid the coming confrontation forever. He met Nate outside the barn, the sun harsh on his shoulders, the scent of baking fields in hisnostrils.
The other man stood with feet braced apart and arms crossed over his chest, a hard light in hiseyes.
Dan kept his hands at his sides. Tried to appear unthreatening. He had to fight against the behaviors ingrained in him from his time in prison in order to look the other man in the face. In prison, insubordination earned you a blow from the guard'sclub.
But this wasn't prison and Nate wasn't his guard. Wasn't his friend, either. Only hisboss.
"You wanna tell me why you hid that injury from me?" Nate asked.What else are youhiding?
"It didn’t affect mywork."
Maybe he should've mentioned it, but Dan didn't want to give the foreman any reason to think he was shirking hisduties.
