Begin Again (22 page)

He nodded politely, but Marissa noted the square set of his jaw, as though speaking required great effort for him. “She was feeling a little under the weather. She's fine now.”

“Good,” Mona replied. Marissa set the bundle of electric fence atop the counter and Mona shot her a mildly exasperated look. “Don't forget the insulators, Marissa. They should be right alongside the fencing.”

Marissa found the bag of yellow plastic insulators immediately and laid them next to the fence. She was perceptive enough to notice the uncomfortable pose displayed by manager and customer, standing far apart on the other side of the counter, as though a chasm had opened between them. She wondered what that was all about, and then realized it was none of her business.

“Brandt,” Mona said in a measured tone, “this is Marissa Sloan. She just started working for us.” He extended his hand across the counter and she shook it. His handshake was firm, the skin warm and work-hewn.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise,” she replied. She noted quickly that he couldn't speak to anyone without meeting their eyes. Eye contact wasn't her strong suit but this cowboy or whatever he was had her seemingly hypnotized. Their hands parted and he looked down at his purchases before meeting her eyes again.

“How much do I owe you?” She totaled the items, told him the price, and money and change was traded.

“Do you need a receipt?”

He nodded. “Tax purposes. You understand.”

“Of course,” she said, playing along. She dropped the receipt in his bag and he started to go. “Have a nice day,” she quickly remembered to say.

He gave her an appraising look, then spared another smile. “You too, ma'am,” he said, touching the brim of his hat. She watched him the whole way, only breaking her stare when he disappeared and the door closed behind him. She felt the blush creep along her neck again, her insides turning molten. She met Mona's eyes — she swore they were black, a totally unnatural color for anyone's irises — and found them staring back at her hard.

“Who was that?” Marissa asked, trying to keep her tone nonchalant and disinterested.

Mona frowned. “Brandt Conner. His family owns a big cattle ranch outside of town.”

“Cattle ranch?” She gave her boss a quizzical stare. “I thought people called them farms around here.”

She shook her head. “Most do, but I guess the Conners have a better PR agent.” She laughed under her breath. “Most farms have a variety of animals, but the Conners only deal in cattle. And they keep a few chickens around for eggs.”

Marissa stared at her fingers as she began tapping them on the plastic covering that formed the top of the counter. “He seemed friendly.”

“Oh, he is,” Mona retorted. Their eyes met again, and Marissa didn't like what she saw there.

“You said his name was Brandt?”

Mona nodded. “You'd be wise to wipe that interested look off your face, young lady. Brandt is a first-class player. His parents might just as well install a turnstile at the top of their stairs. He's already left a trail of broken hearts from there to here,” she said, sweeping her hand from the front of the store to the back. “If you're looking for love, come to church with me this week. There are plenty of well-spoken, God-fearing men there who are looking for long-term commitment. With Brandt Conner, commitment lasts about as long as it takes to get his pants off.”

“I'll try to remember that, Mona,” Marissa replied quietly, anxious for the woman to be out of her hair and no longer spouting gibberish. She'd literally gazed upon Brandt for the first time five minutes ago — and while she was undoubtedly attracted, she hardly needed Mona to dissuade her from anything. She was old enough at twenty-four to make her own decisions, to form her own view of the world. Her own father had shown her that male reliability was not a given, and her luck with past boyfriends had been mixed. But this was a new town, a fresh start, and Mona was the only person here she knew. As her manager walked back to the safety of her office, Marissa couldn't help but think she'd like to add Brandt to her short list of friends. With Mona's door shut tight, she pulled a ledger from beneath the counter and scanned its alphabetical listings. The Conners had a standing account, and looked to be frequent customers. With any luck, she'd see Brandt again soon.

Time would tell.

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