Page 8 of Red Hot Rancher

Shame elbowed out her anger. Those years in high school when Brigit had been looking at colleges was the only time she’d heard actual shouting between her parents.

Don’t you dare make my decision to marry you and give up my own life goals Brigit’s curse, Rick.

It doesn’t have to do with you or me, Joan. It has to do with our future, our retirement.

Our kids are our future.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up.” And look how it had turned out. Had Dad been right? “But I feel like you think I should’ve tried to patch things up with Oliver and settle.” Which was what she’d fought against all those years ago.

“You’re right, you’re right. He was such a promising young man, and you spoke so highly of him.”

No, she’d just skipped the snide comments and his controlling ways. As if not speaking about them made his behavior less real. “The last few days haven’t been easy.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “I guess I have to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.”

“Don’t you still want to be a lawyer?”

I never wanted to be a lawyer. “I have to be realistic. I’m not getting any younger, and I can’t live with Justin for the rest of my life.”

“No, Moore isn’t the place for you. You have too much potential to let it go to waste in a small town like that.”

Like you did, Mom? Mom had been the college girl with all life had to offer in front of her when she’d met Dad. But Dad had gone to college only so he could come back home and run the farm and ranch with his brothers. It was either give Dad up or give her dreams up, and Mom probably hadn’t thought her dreams were gone for good when she moved to Moore. But then she’d stayed home, had babies, and hadn’t touched anything relevant to her college career since.

Farm wife were like two four-letter curse words when it came to Mom, and she’d drilled into Brigit all her life not to throw it all away for a boy.

As Mom started on her laundry list of Things Brigit is Destined for in Life, Brigit sprawled backward on the bed. She’d ridden out this conversation before. Only this time, she couldn’t help but wonder just how much good following Mom’s path was doing her.

Chapter 4

With his shift over, Caleb had to change before he could check on his place. He jogged up the stairs to Justin’s front door and gripped the doorknob. First, he had to steel himself. He had two days off. Two days to avoid Brigit.

He never thought he’d reach a point in his life where one full day lost to the firehouse was something he looked forward to. Battling fires was one thing; hanging around a bunch of guys doing menial tasks was another.

Okay, he could do this. She might not even be home. Not like it mattered.

Her scent surrounded him at the most unexpected times. The bathroom had become a torture chamber. Her shampoo sat next to his on the bathtub ledge, her toothbrush and toothpaste were only inches away from his own, and that lotion she spread on every night was like a field full of wildflowers blossoming inside his head.

And that was just her presence. Seeing her was even harder.

Cold leeched through his uniform. He twisted the knob and stepped inside.

Damn, he had shitty timing.

She was standing in the middle of the living room pulling her long blond hair up into a ponytail that would fit out of the back of her ball cap. It would be too awkward to back out of the house now. He had no choice but to move forward.

She peered under her raised arm. “Morning.”

“Morning.” It was the same word he’d said yesterday coming out of the bathroom. She’d been adorable, squinting in the light and frowning at him. He hadn’t wanted to leave, could’ve soaked in the sight of her in pajama pants and a T-shirt for months, but he’d convinced himself to keep moving.

He was staring at her now. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, like neither one of them knew what else to do. It was Justin’s place, but his friend was never around when Caleb needed him to run interference. But then Justin had no clue what had transpired between himself and Brigit, or that she was why he was approaching thirty with no history of long-term relationships.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” He might as well make himself useful. Breakfast was usually on his own, while his other meals were eaten at the firehouse. Part of contributing while he stayed here rent-free was buying groceries and keeping food around that Justin could just grab and go.

“I had a banana before I went out and checked on the ewes.”

It was nearly nine in the morning. She’d been up and working already, and technically so had he, but it was hard not to feel like she’d done more for Justin in her short time under the same roof than he had in the months he’d been staying.

“I earn my keep by cooking eggs,” he said. “Do you want scrambled? Over easy? In a breakfast burrito?”

“Um…” Her gaze darted around the living room, touching on the mantel over the fireplace that held the pictures from her and Justin’s childhood. When she focused on the short hallway to the kitchen, her forehead crinkled. “Sure, I’m starving, and a breakfast burrito sounds like it’ll keep me for the rest of the day.”

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