"I'm sorry," Morgan says finally. Unsure what else to say. She feels bad about what she was just thinking about how he looked.
"Don't be. I'm just a sentimental old man."
"You don't look so old to me."
"Yeah, tell that to the boys. Look at them. I tried that shit, my hip would pull clear out of its socket."
"You look like you used to do pretty good for yourself."
"This kinda shit? Never. I was a football guy. Was supposed to go to some big university in California, but… I dunno. Things didn't go that way."
"Oh yeah?" It's caught her interest a little, but she's not going to pry if it's going to piss him off. She's got to walk a careful line.
Once this is all done, she goes back home to Nevada. She's not looking for a relationship, and she's sure as hell not looking for a new friend for life.
But at the same time, to convert the sale, she's got to get in his head a little. And he's got to get into her head a little, too. It's like dancing. They can't do a hell of a lot of anything if they're not on the same page.
At the same time, you don't keep dancing forever. Eventually, you both step off the dance floor and you go back to your separate lives. The problem is, sometimes you find a real good dance partner, and…
Morgan looks over at Phil Callahan. She doesn't know much about him. Once-married, former football player. Owns a ranch and a horse that he thinks could be good racing stock. Owns a ranch that's right between her new Wyoming plants. One that she'd very much like to own, instead.
But from the tight hips, the broad shoulders… the powerful legs and the way that his shirt gets tight around his arms… she could definitely find worse dancing partners than him.
Which means that she's got a real mistake lining up, if she's not careful. This is business, it's not personal.
But that doesn't me
an that it doesn't hurt in the end if she goes in too far, gets in too deep, or lets herself get funny ideas about him before they finally split up in the end.
And with a man who looks like this, it is really a lot easier than it should be, to get all the wrong ideas.
Chapter Nine
"I don't know what you're trying to prove," Philip says finally. It's a quaint time, because Michael's trying to prove something himself, getting up there on that stallion.
He's liable to get himself killed, but until one of them gets that hundred dollars they seem to have decided that they're going to take turns getting themselves thrown off and hoping to hell that it doesn't result in a whole mess of broken bones.
So far, James fell in a way that had Callahan a little worried about him. He jumped up an instant later, and the way he was moving his left arm said that it couldn't have been worse than a strain. He looked like it barely hurt at all, so he might have been lucky.
They've got it working a little better, now. They've actually got to the point where they can almost stay in the seat a few seconds. At this point, though, they've still got a long way to go, and with the sun starting to dip down on the horizon…
"I don't know what you mean," she says. She's been watching the boys with a passing interest. Which is to say, she's kept her eyes on it, but she doesn't seem to have any sort of vested interest in their success. Not that any of them do, really.
The notion that they're showing off for a girl, though, means that they're not going to quit now until Philip drags them off the back of the damn horse, or until one of them wins the day.
"You got, what, a hundred people working that site? Probably another hundred at the other one. That about right?"
"Not exactly, but close enough."
"Why do you need my land? You got two big ol' factories going up. Ain't no need for three of them all in a row."
"Apartments," she says. James works his arm in its socket. Must have hurt a little, at least, or he'd already be throwing his weight up while his brothers catch their breath. Then he takes a firm grip on the reins and shifts his weight up.
"You in the business of renting out apartments, too?"
James keeps his weight low. The horse tries to throw him off to the side, but he expects it, now. The elder boy throws his weight against it and stays in the saddle. His hurt arm flies free, the good one cinched in tight and close.
"For the workers. We can offer them cheap rent, and it keeps them closer to the job site. So it's a win for them, and a win for us."