Arthur Stout was meeting me at the barn today. He had called yesterday, saying he wanted to talk to me about purchasing one of my older, well-broken quarters for his wife to use for the riding school she ran on their ranch. Normally, I only dealt with cattle when it came to the Stouts, but every once in a while, his wife needed a dependable horse for her classes. Arthur always came to me, and I had two for him to look at that I thought would fit Mrs. Stout’s needs.
I had kissed Reese good-bye and left her in bed before the sun came up. It bothered me to know she would be there most of the day unless she came down to see me. She didn’t need that seclusion. Aida had gone to visit Grandma Colt for a few days with my mother, and it had been a relief to know I wouldn’t have to deal with her drama while I figured out how to make life fuller for Reese.
Arthur’s F-450 pulled up, and I dusted the dirt off my hands and walked out to meet him. I’d bathed and brushed Buttercup and Rose for him to inspect. Both of them would be fourteen years old this year. They were the perfect age for new learners.
“Morning, Mase,” Arthur called out as he walked down the hill to meet me.
“Morning,” I replied, tilting my hat back so I could see him better.
“It’s ’bout afternoon for a rancher, though, isn’t it, boy?” He chuckled.
It was only nine in the morning, but he was right. We got up early enough for nine to be more like twelve for most folks. When he got to the hill, he looked out over my training ring and nodded. “Looks good. Things must be going well for you. Glad to see that.”
“Yes, sir. Business is growing.”
“Good, good,” he said, then took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “I’m here to see those horses like I called about, but I got another proposition for you, too. My wife’s business is growing, and she’s needing more help in the office part of things. Taking phone calls and making phone calls. Reading e-mails and answering them. Even just cleaning the tack and whatnot.” He paused and put his hat back on his head. “I heard your girlfriend was looking for a job. I liked the girl, and I think she’d work well with Piper.”
Where had he heard Reese was looking for a job? She hadn’t said anything about it. I wasn’t sure I wanted her on the Stouts’ property, either. Not with Hawkins around.
“I’m not real sure she’s looking for a job. She’s not mentioned it. Don’t know where you got that information, but she’s going to look into going back to school. I appreciate the offer, though.”
Arthur looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Understood. Just thought I’d check. Piper has interviewed a few women, and they’ve been . . . older and treated her like, er, well, let’s just say it didn’t work out. She needs someone more her age.”
I nodded that I understood, but I wasn’t entertaining this idea. “You ready to see the girls?” I said, and I headed toward the stalls without waiting for him to follow.
Reese wasn’t looking for a job. If she was, she’d have told me. Wouldn’t she?
Reese
I fluffed the pillows on the sofa one more time before I continued pacing the living room. All day, I’d cleaned and thought about how I was going to tell Mase that I wanted a job. I also wanted to get my GED and take online college courses, but in order to do all that, I needed a steady income.
Staying here all day was not going to be enough. Even with Mase’s two-hour lunch break, I needed something to do with the rest of my day. Telling Mase I wanted to have my own money and pay my own way wasn’t going to go well. I could just feel it. He would go all caveman and insist he could take care of me. I needed to go another route. I needed to emphasize that I wanted a purpose. I wanted to get out into the world and do something.
He was a reasonable man. He would see what I was saying and understand.
Before I could get more nervous, the door opened, and in walked Mase, looking dirty, sweaty, and very sexy. He was my own personal cowboy, and I loved that. Seeing the smile on his face was all I needed, wasn’t it? That smile made everything else seem less important. Did I want to upset him? Did I want to argue tonight? Or just curl up in his arms and talk about other things? Things that made him happy.
Yes . . . no . . . ugh! I had to talk to him. I had to face this. It was my life. Our life. I had to find my direction in it.
“I want to get a job,” I blurted out, for fear that I wouldn’t say it if I waited. “I want to get a job and a GED and take college courses online.”
There. I had said it.
Mase stopped and studied me. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I worried that I’d sounded ungrateful or unhappy. I wasn’t unhappy. I loved him. I loved being with him. I just needed more than being here all the time.
“You want a job?” he asked. “Who have you mentioned that to?”
I shook my head. “Just you,” I replied. I didn’t think I’d said it to anyone else, but maybe I had told Blaire, or was it Harlow? I couldn’t remember.
“Why do you want a job?”
“I want to make money. I don’t want you paying for my school and”—I held my hands out—“everything. I want to contribute. Staying here all day is . . . it’s not doing anything, really. I need to work. I need to get my GED.”
Mase let out a sigh and put his hands on his hips as he studied his boots a moment. He was upset. I had upset him. This was what I didn’t want to do. I had opened my mouth to apologize when he looked back up at me. “OK. I understand. How do you feel about answering phone calls and e-mails and cleaning horse stalls?”
What? Was he trying to give me a job? That wasn’t what I meant. He didn’t need me. He was making up a job for me. I had to feel more independent than this. I needed that security. “No, Mase. You can’t make up a job for me. You don’t need help. I have to get a job out in the world and bring money home.”
A small grin tugged on his lips. “It wouldn’t be for me.”
“Huh?”
He reached down and pulled off his muddy boots and set them near the door, then walked toward me. “Arthur Stout’s wife, Piper, gives horse-riding lessons at their stables. She needs an assistant. Arthur offered you the job today.”
He reached for my hand and held it in his like he was examining a priceless treasure in his palm. “You’d have to answer phones and take notes. Write them down. You’d have to read e-mails and reply to them. I didn’t tell Arthur about your dyslexia. That’s something for you to tell Piper if you want this job. I believe you can do it. I believe you can be the best damn assistant in the world. But I need to know if you believe it.”