Lonny’s head shot up. “You’re cooking Mom’s recipe for prime rib?”
She hated to be so manipulative, but if Lonny were to give Mary half a chance, he might change his mind. “You don’t mind if I use some of the meat in the freezer, do you?”
“No,” he said, and swallowed. “I suppose there’ll be plenty of leftovers?”
Letty shrugged. “I can’t say, since I’m thawing out a small roast. I hope you understand.”
“Sure,” Lonny muttered, frowning.
Apparently he understood all too well, because an hour later, her brother announced he probably would be around for dinner the following night after all.
—
Monday morning Letty rose early. The coffee had perked and bacon was sizzling in the skillet when Lonny wandered into the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning,” she returned cheerfully.
Lonny poured himself a cup of coffee and headed for the door, pausing just before he opened it. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
At the sound of a pickup pulling into the yard, Letty glanced out the kitchen window. Her heart sped up at the sight of Chase climbing out of the cab. It was as if those nine years had been wiped away and he’d come for her the way he used to when she was a teenager. He wore jeans and a shirt with a well-worn leather vest. His dark hair curled crisply at his sun-bronzed nape and he needed a haircut. In him, Letty recognized strength and masculinity.
He entered the kitchen without knocking and stopped short when he saw her. “Letty,” he said, sounding shocked.
“Good morning, Chase,” she greeted him simply. Unwilling to see the bitterness in his gaze, she didn’t look up from the stove. “Lonny’s stepped outside for a moment. Pour yourself a cup of coffee.”
“No, thanks.” Already he’d turned back to the door.
“Chase.” Her heart was pounding so hard it felt as though it might leap into her throat. The sooner she cleared the air between them, the better. “Do you have a minute?”
“Not really.”
Ignoring his words, she removed the pan from the burner. “At some point in everyone’s life—”
“I said I didn’t have time, Letty.”
“But—”
“If you’re figuring to give me some line about how life’s done you wrong and how sorry you are about the past, save your breath, because I don’t need to hear it.”
“Maybe you don’t,” she said gently, “but I need to say it.”
“Then do it in front of a mirror.”
“Chase, you’re my brother’s best friend. It isn’t as if we can ignore each other. It’s too uncomfortable to pretend nothing’s wrong.”
“As far as I’m concerned nothing is wrong.”
“But—”
“Save your breath, Letty,” he said again.
Chapter 3
“Mr. Chase,” Cricket called excitedly from the foot of the stairs. “You’re here!”
Letty turned back to the stove, fighting down anger and indignation. Chase wouldn’t so much as listen to her. Fine. If he wanted to pretend there was nothing wrong, then she would give an award-winning performance herself. He wasn’t the only one who could be this childish.
The back door opened and Lonny blithely stepped into the kitchen. “You’re early, aren’t you?” he asked Chase as he refilled his coffee cup.
“No,” Chase snapped impatiently. The look he shot Letty said he wouldn’t have come in the house at all if he’d known she was up.
Lonny paid no attention to the censure in his neighbor’s voice. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m not ready to leave yet. Letty’s cooking breakfast.”
“Mr. Chase, Mr. Chase, did you bring your horsey?”
“It’s Mr. Brown,” Letty corrected as she brought two plates to the table. Lonny immediately dug into his bacon-and-egg breakfast, but Chase ignored the meal—as though eating anything Letty had made might poison him.
“Answer her,” Lonny muttered between bites. “Otherwise she’ll drive you nuts.”
“I drove my truck over,” Chase told Cricket.
“Do you ever bring your horsey to Uncle Lonny’s?”
“Sometimes.”
“Are you a cowboy?”
“I suppose.”
“Wyoming’s the Cowboy State,” Letty told her daughter.
“Does that mean everyone who lives here has to be a cowboy?”
“Not exactly.”
“But close,” Lonny said with a grin.
Cricket climbed onto the chair next to Chase’s and dragged her yellow blanket with her. She set her elbows on the table and cupped her face in her hands. “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, studying him intently.
“I had breakfast,” he said, pushing the plate toward her.
Cricket didn’t need to be asked twice. Kneeling on the chair, she reached across Chase and grabbed his fork. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling.
Letty joined the others at the table. Lately her appetite hadn’t been good, but she forced herself to eat a piece of toast.
The atmosphere was strained. Letty tried to avoid looking in Chase’s direction, but it was impossible to ignore the man. He turned toward her unexpectedly, catching her look and holding it. His eyes were dark and intense. Caught off guard, Letty blushed.
Chase’s gaze darted from her eyes to her mouth and stayed there. She longed to turn primly away from him with a shrug of indifference, but she couldn’t. Years ago, Letty had loved staring into Chase’s eyes. He had the most soulful eyes of any man she’d ever known. She was trapped in the memory of how it used to be with them. At one time, she’d been able to read loving messages in his eyes. But they were cold now, filled with angry sparks that flared briefly before he glanced away.
What little appetite Letty had was gone, and she put her toast back on the plate and shoved it aside. “Would it be all right if I took the truck this morning?” she asked her brother, surprised by the quaver in her voice. She wished she could ignore Chase altogether, but that was impossible. He refused to deal with the past and she couldn’t make him talk to her. As far as Letty could tell, he preferred to simply overlook her presence. Only he seemed to find that as difficult as she found ignoring him. That went a long way toward raising her spirits.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d do a little shopping for dinner tonight.” It was true, but only half the reason she needed his truck. She had to drive to Rock Springs, which was fifty miles west of Red Springs, so she could talk to the social services people there about her eligibility for Medicaid.
“That’s right—Mary Brandon’s coming to dinner, isn’t she?” Lonny asked, evidently disturbed by the thought.
It was a mistake to have mentioned the evening meal, because her brother frowned the instant he said Mary’s name. “I suppose I won’t be needing the truck,” he said, scowling.
“I appreciate it. Thanks,” Letty said brightly.
Her brother shrugged.
“Are you coming to dinner with Mommy’s friend?” Cricket asked Chase.
“No,” he said brusquely.
“How come?”
“Because he’s smart, that’s why,” Lonny answered, then stood abruptly. He reached for his hat, settled it on his head and didn’t look back.
Within seconds, both men were gone.
—
“You’ll need to complete these forms,” the woman behind the desk told Letty, handing her several sheets.
The intake clerk looked frazzled and overburdened. It was well past noon, and Letty guessed the woman hadn’t had a coffee break all morning and was probably late for her lunch. The clerk briefly read over the letter from the physician Letty had been seeing in California and made a copy of it to attach to Letty’s file.
“Once you’re done with those forms, please bring them back to me,” she said.
“Of course,” Letty told her.
Bored, Crick
et had slipped her arms around her mother’s waist and was pressing her head against Letty’s stomach.
“If you have any questions, feel free to ask,” the worker said.
“None right now. Thank you for all your help.” Letty stood, Cricket still holding on.
For the first time since Letty had entered the government office, the young woman smiled.
Letty took the sheets and sat at a table in a large lobby. One by one, she answered the myriad questions. Before she’d be eligible for Wyoming’s medical assistance program, she’d have to be accepted into the Supplemental Security Income program offered through the federal government. It was a humiliating fact of life, but proud, independent Letty Ellison was about to go on welfare.
Tears blurred her eyes as she filled in the first sheet. She stopped long enough to wipe them away before they spilled onto the papers. She had no idea what she’d tell Lonny once the government checks started arriving. Especially since he seemed so confident he could find her some kind of employment in town.
“When can we leave?” Cricket said, close to her mother’s ear.
“Soon.” Letty was writing as fast as she could, eager to escape, too.
“I don’t like it here,” Cricket whispered.
“I don’t, either,” Letty whispered back. But she was grateful the service existed; otherwise she didn’t know what she would have done.
Cricket fell asleep in the truck during the hour’s drive home. Letty was thankful for the silence because it gave her a chance to think through the immediate problems that faced her. She could no longer delay seeing a physician, and eventually she’d have to tell Lonny about her heart condition. She hadn’t intended to keep it a secret, but there was no need to worry him until everything was settled with the Medicaid people. Once she’d completed all the paperwork and been examined by a variety of knowledgeable doctors so they could tell her what she already knew, she’d be free to explain the situation to Lonny.
Until then, she would keep this problem to herself.
—
“Letty!” Lonny cried from the top of the stairs. “Do I have to dress for dinner?”
“Please,” she answered sweetly, basting the rib roast before sliding it back in the oven for a few more minutes.
“A tie, too?” he asked without enthusiasm.
“A nice sweater would do.”
“I don’t own a ‘nice’ sweater,” he shouted back.
A couple of muffled curses followed, but Letty chose to ignore them. At least she knew what to get her brother next Christmas.
Lonny had been in a bad temper from the minute he’d walked in the door an hour earlier, and Letty could see that this evening was headed for disaster.
“Mommy!” Cricket’s pigtails were flying as she raced into the kitchen. “Your friend’s here.”
“Oh.” Letty quickly removed the oven mitt and glanced at her watch. Mary was a good ten minutes early and Letty needed every second of that time. The table wasn’t set, and the roast was still in the oven.
“Mary, it’s good to see you.” Letty greeted her with a smile as she rushed into the living room.
Mary walked into the Ellison home, her eyes curious as she examined the living room furniture. “It’s good to be here. I brought some fresh-baked rolls for Lonny.”
“How thoughtful.” Letty moved into the center of the room. “I’m running a little behind, so if you’ll excuse me for a minute?”
“Of course.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” Letty called over her shoulder as she hurried back to the kitchen. She looked around, wondering which task to finish first. After she’d returned from Rock Springs that afternoon and done the shopping, she’d taken a nap with Cricket. Now she regretted having wasted that time. The whole meal felt so disorganized, and with Lonny’s attitude, well—
“This is a lovely watercolor in here,” Mary called in to her. “Who painted it?”
“My mother. She was an artist,” Letty answered, taking the salad out of the refrigerator. She grabbed silverware and napkins on her way into the dining room. “Cricket, would you set the table for me?”
“Okay,” the youngster agreed willingly.
Mary stood in the room, hands behind her back as she studied the painting of a lush field of wildflowers. “Your mother certainly had an eye for color, didn’t she?”
“Mom was very talented,” Letty replied wistfully.
“Did she paint any of the others?” Mary asked, gesturing around the living room.
“No,…actually, this is the only painting we have of hers.”
“She gave the others away?”
“Not exactly,” Letty admitted, feeling a flash of resentment. With all her mother’s obligations on the ranch, plus helping Dad when she could during the last few years of his life, there hadn’t been time for her to work on what she’d loved most, which was her art. Letty’s mother had lived a hard life. The land had drained her energy. Letty had been a silent witness to what happened to her mother and swore it wouldn’t be repeated in her own life. Yet here she was, back in Wyoming. Back on the Bar E, and grateful she had a home.
“How come we’re eating in the dining room?” Lonny muttered irritably as he came downstairs. He buried his hands in his pockets and made an obvious effort to ignore Mary, who stood no more than five feet away.
“You know Mary, don’t you?” Letty asked pointedly.
Lonny nodded in the other woman’s direction, but managed to do so without actually looking at her.
“Hello, Lonny,” Mary cooed. “It’s a real pleasure to see you again. I brought you some rolls—hot from the oven.”
“Mary brought over some homemade dinner rolls,” Letty reiterated, resisting the urge to kick her brother in the shin.
“Looks like those rolls came from the Red Springs Bakery to me,” he muttered, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
Letty half expected him to grab his knife and fork, pound the table with them and chant, Dinner, dinner, dinner! If he couldn’t discourage Mary by being rude, he’d probably try the more advanced “caveman” approach.
“Well, yes, I did pick up the rolls there,” Mary said, clearly flustered. “I didn’t have time after work to bake.”
“Naturally, you wouldn’t have,” Letty responded mildly, shooting her brother a heated glare.
Cricket scooted past the two women and handed her uncle a plate. “Anything else, Mommy?”
Letty quickly checked the table to see what was needed. “Glasses,” she mumbled, rushing back into the kitchen. While she was there, she took the peas off the burner. The vegetable had been an expensive addition to the meal, but Letty had bought them at the market in town, remembering how much Lonny loved fresh peas. He deserved some reward for being such a good sport—or so she’d thought earlier.
Cricket finished setting the table and Letty brought out the rest of their dinner. She smiled as she joined the others. Her brother had made a tactical error when he’d chosen to sit down first. Mary had immediately taken the chair closest to him. She gazed at him with wide, adoring eyes while Lonny did his best to ignore her.
As Letty had predicted earlier, the meal was a disaster, and the tension in the air was thick. Letty made several attempts at conversation, which Mary leaped upon, but the minute either of them tried to include Lonny, the subject died. It was all Letty could do to keep from kicking her brother under the table. Mary didn’t linger after the meal.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Lonny grumbled as soon as Letty was back from escorting Mary to the front door.
She sank down in the chair beside him and closed her eyes, exhausted. She didn’t have the energy to argue with her brother. If he was looking for an apology, she’d give him one. “I’m sorry, Lonny. I was only trying to help.”
“Help what? Ruin my life?”
“No!” Letty said, her eyes flying open. “You need someone.”
“Who says?”
“I do.”
>
“Did you ever stop to think that’s a bit presumptuous on your part? You’re gone nine years and then you waltz home, look around and decide what you can change.”
“Lonny, I said I was sorry.”
He was silent for a lengthy moment, then he sighed. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
“I know you didn’t.” Letty was so tired she didn’t know how she was going to manage the dishes. One meal, and she’d used every pan in the house. Cricket was clearing the table for her and she was so grateful, she kissed her daughter’s forehead.
Lonny dawdled over his coffee, eyes downcast. “What makes you think I need someone?” he asked quietly.
“It seems so lonely out here. I assumed—incorrectly, it appears—that you’d be happier if there was someone to share your life with. You’re a handsome man, Lonny, and there are plenty of women who’d like to be your wife.”
One corner of his mouth edged up at that. “I intend to marry someday. I just haven’t gotten around to it, that’s all.”
“Well, for heaven’s sake, what are you waiting for?” Letty teased. “You’re thirty-four and you’re not getting any younger.”
“I’m not exactly ready for Social Security.”
Letty smiled. “Mary’s nice—”
“Aw, come off it, Letty. I don’t like that woman. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“—but I understand why she isn’t your type,” Letty finished, undaunted.
“You do?”
She nodded. “Mary needs a man who’d be willing to spend a lot of time and money keeping her entertained. She wouldn’t make a good rancher’s wife.”
“I knew that the minute I met her,” Lonny grumbled. “I just didn’t know how to put it in words.” He mulled over his thoughts, then added, “Look at the way she let you and Cricket do all the work getting dinner on the table. She didn’t help once. That wouldn’t sit well with most folks.”
“She was company.” Letty felt an obligation to defend Mary. After all, she hadn’t asked the other woman to help with the meal, although she would have appreciated it. Besides, Lonny didn’t have a lot of room to talk; he’d waited to be served just like Mary had.