Page 43 of Heart & Hope

“Idle hands are the devil’s work. My father says that, too. But he’s right. And I would rather be busy, building a career and a life, than not.”

“I’ve seen your version of busy, Robbins. It’s a lot.”

I chuckle and bump my shoulder into his. “You’re probably right. Would you rather I be barefoot in the kitchen, spending my days chasing after a bunch of rowdy kids?”

He stops on the spot and looks down at me. Heat rises to my cheeks. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Like I would be inhiskitchen withhischildren. But by the pure cheek scrawled over his face right now, I’m going to wrangle a guess that’s how he took it. “Reed.”

“I think you’d look magnificent in my kitchen, Rubes. But that’s not your plan, is it?”

He is close; we’re only inches apart. And no, it’s not what I want. I want an event planning business of my own one day and working as hard and as long as I can in high-end agencies is how to garner the best experience. But I don’t want to waste my day of R & R thinking about work, so I slide my hand into his and drag him toward his new house. “Tour, Reedsy. Show me your new adventure.”

He crowds me from behind, my hand still in his, as I stall to a stop shy of the front porch of the house. Someone’s inside.

“It’s only Mack, baby.”

“Oh, I didn’t know he was here.”

“Yeah, doing my chores while I’m living it up in Great Falls for the weekend.”

“What? You didn’t tell me you needed to be here?—”

“I don’t. Mack’s here.”

As the words leave his mouth, his older brother steps out onto the porch. “Ruby.” He nods, hat already on his head. “How was your party?”

He’s dressed in jeans and a button-down checkered work shirt, rolled up at the sleeves like his brother. He sips at a mug of coffee.

God, what I wouldn’t do for a coffee.

“You want a cup, Robbins? Or do you always give mugs that longing stare?” Mack says.

Reed strides inside.

“I would love one. Busy morning?”

“Nah. Waters and a few fencin’ jobs Harry wants taken care of.”

“Do you ever take a day off?”

He raises an eyebrow as if I ought to talk. “Not usually; ranching is a year-round, three-sixty-five gig. At least it is in Harry’s world. In which we are involuntary participants.”

He takes another sip.

“Oh, that must be hard.”

“It’s a lifestyle, that’s for sure. You comin’ in?”

“Oh, sure. Can’t let Reed sugar my coffee.”

“Sweet enough, hey?” He smiles and shifts on his feet as I walk past with a chuckle.

“Something like that, Mack.”

He dips his hat, resting his mug on the small table at the front door and walking down the step and off the porch. “See ya round, Ruby. Have arelaxingday!”

I wave, smiling as confusion tweaks my face. Do these men share everything?

“Coffee, baby?” Reed says from behind me.

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