Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (24 page)

Alex jumped to her feet and gasped. “I can’t believe I forgot.” She started for the door but stopped and clutched the back of a chair, dropping her head.

Justin glanced back, turned, and walked to her side. “Sit.” He placed a strong arm around her waist and guided her back to her chair. “Stay.” He leaned her back and kept his hands on her shoulders.

She chuckled and looked up. “That’s what I say to Hunter. ‘Sit. Stay.’ I’m not a dog, you know.”

“Not hardly.” He grinned and headed for the door then swung around. “But I mean it. Stay put. I’ll check on Toby, and when I come back I’ll finish those sandwiches.”

“I can do it.” She started to rise, but his stern gaze deterred her. “All right, I’ll wait.”

“Good.” He turned at the door to the kitchen and glanced back. There was something indefinable in his glance—a hesitancy or caution that she couldn’t quite fathom. He turned and disappeared up the stairs.

Boots clumping down the stairs alerted Alex to Justin’s return moments before he rounded the corner with Toby in his arms. The little boy rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I waked up.” He looked at Alex, and a sweet smile pulled at his plump cheeks.

Justin placed Toby near Alex on the elevated chair and handed him a half slice of bread. Toby stuffed a piece in his mouth and stared at Alex’s finger wrapped in the bandage. “You got a owie?” He didn’t wait for her reply but held up his own small hand. “Toby got a owie, too.” He pointed at an invisible spot on his thumb. “Papa kissed it and made it better. Papa kiss your owie, ’Lexie?”

Justin cleared his throat and ruffled Toby’s hair, anxious to turn the attention away from Alex’s glowing cheeks. “Eat your bread, son, and I’ll make us a sandwich.” He turned toward Alex with twitching lips. “He has a one-track mind if he gets something stuck in his head.”

Alex laughed. “I’ve noticed. Like the day you came, when he begged to ride a horse.”

Toby’s head snapped up and his eyes grew large. “Toby ride the horsey?” He began to squirm in his chair. “Please, Papa?”

Justin rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Now we’re in for it.”

Alex leaned back in her chair and cocked her head to the side. “Sure, why not?”

“I beg your pardon?” Justin stopped cutting the bread and stood with the knife poised in the air.

She grinned and pointed at the knife. “Watch what you’re doing, or you’ll be next. Uncle Joe’s been leading the pony in the yard, but I think it’s high time Toby had his first real lesson. I was riding all over the barnyard at his age.”

Justin took the lid off the crock of butter and spread a liberal amount on each slab of bread. “I’d be obliged, if you really don’t mind. Now, what do you want between these slabs of bread?”

“The meat is in the cellar. We carved out some ice this winter and wrapped it in burlap. Uncle Joe slaughtered a steer last week, and the ice has kept it fresh. There’s a crock of cool milk down there, too.”

“I’ll get it.” Justin turned to Toby. “You be good and don’t get down. When we’re done eating, Miss Alex says you can ride her pony. But you have to eat your dinner first.”

Toby’s dark curls bobbed as he nodded. “I be good. I eat all my dinner.”

“I’ll be right back.” Justin headed for the door and pulled it shut behind him, turning Toby’s words over in his mind.
Kiss her owie and make it better
. Part of him had wanted to bolt from the room, while another part had wanted to laugh and raise her finger to his lips.

The meal passed in silence, but Alex had no sense of the discomfort that she’d felt with other people when conversation lagged. This felt right—safe and companionable—like a family should. She jerked her thoughts back—she didn’t need a ready-made family. She took a quick gulp of milk and choked.

Justin grabbed a towel and stuffed it into her hand. “You all right?”

She raised wet eyes to his and nodded then gave a final cough and smiled. “I hope that doesn’t become a habit—your having to ask if I’m all right.”

A sly grin crept over his face. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want the hired hand taking care of the boss lady. Might not be good for your reputation.”

She stared, hardly able to believe her ears. He was teasing—actually teasing. She grinned back and narrowed her eyes. “You’d best watch your step, cowboy, or this boss lady might put you to mending fence.” She laughed at the chagrin that covered his face and reached for another drink of milk. She could get used to this.

Christy Grey sat easily in her sidesaddle on the mare she’d rented from the big blacksmith, Ralph. He’d not wanted to take her money, but she’d insisted. She didn’t care to be beholden to any man. He’d given good directions to Alexia Travers’s ranch, and from her estimation, it should only be another mile or less. The mare covered the ground with an easy, long trot, and Christy set her mind to planning.

Much would depend on who happened to be home. She hated the thought of the sweet Travers girl hearing what she had to say, but she’d not been given a choice. Why did Alexia have to treat her with such kindness at the store the day after she’d arrived? It would’ve been so much easier had she slighted her.

Her mare snorted and shied to the side. Christy glanced around. All she saw was brush, towering trees dotting the sparse meadows, and the tinkling stream not far behind. The mare had crossed the fast-moving water without hesitation and didn’t seem to spook easily.

She drew back on the reins. “Whoa, girl. Easy. That’s right.” The mare gave a soft nicker and flicked her ears toward the hill up ahead. Christy stroked the glossy chestnut neck, ruffling the long mane with her gloved fingers. “Nothing’s going to hurt you.” She felt the tense body relax under her hand, and the horse’s head lowered a few inches.

A flash of something reflected for a moment on the hill above, and just as quickly it disappeared. She narrowed her eyes and peered through the brush but didn’t see any movement. A rider? Probably one of Alexia Travers’s hands.

She urged her mare forward and trotted up the trail but didn’t meet anyone along the way. When she crested the ridge, she drew her horse to a stop and gazed down on the scene. A green plateau spread beneath her, dotted with horses and trees, and a meandering stream wove off to one side. A two-story, bat-and-board-sided house perched on the edge of a large grassy meadow, and a huge barn sat a hundred feet away. No buggy appeared outside the barn or house, but she discerned movement in a corral. A horse and a person—or two.

She searched the trail leading down to the house and glanced back the way she’d come. Nothing. Had she imagined that shaft of light? It could’ve been the sun reflecting through the trees. She glanced upward and shook her head. No, the sun was in the wrong position to have sent its rays over the hill and into her eyes.

Someone had been at the top of the hill—watching her? An unladylike word slipped from her mouth and she booted her horse. The mare jumped forward, rocking Christy against the high cantle. She righted herself and gripped the reins, slowing the mare. Stupid move. The last thing she needed was an injury.

Sometimes she hated what she’d become.
Sometimes? Most of the time.
She trotted down the trail and spurred the mare into a lope. The dangerous pace fit her mood. The sooner she got this distasteful chore behind her, the sooner she could crawl back in the hole she called home and pull a blanket over her head.

Toby shouted with glee as he sat up straight and gripped the reins. His short legs didn’t reach the stirrups bouncing against the belly of the shaggy pony. “Giddup.” He shook the reins and rocked in the saddle.

Alex watched the antics of the small boy in amazement. “He’s smart and not a bit afraid. He’s listened to everything you’ve told him.”

Justin kept moving, leading the patient black pony around the enclosed corral. “I’ve not found much that Toby’s afraid of so far. Except the dark.” He ducked his head after he’d spoken the words.

“Has he always been that way?” She leaned her arms on the split-rail fence.

“Not till after his mother died. Molly let him sleep with her every night, and I guess he’s not as used to me.”

Toby’s energetic bouncing caused the horse to break into a trot. “Go fast, Papa. Toby like to go fast.” Justin turned and grabbed the boy as he nearly toppled from the saddle. “Whoa, there. You need to hold still.”

Toby quieted, a serious look on his small face. He held a finger up to his lips. “Shhh. Toby be quiet and not scare the horsey. Go faster, Papa, okay?”

Justin laughed, and the transformation on his handsome face gave Alex a small start. Her mind replayed his words. Toby not used to his father? Wouldn’t Justin have slept in the same bed as Molly?

The sound of hoofbeats on the hard-packed trail approaching the house drew Alex’s attention, and she was surprised to see the redheaded woman she’d met at the store—the saloon girl who’d asked after Justin. Miss Grey loped her horse across the open space leading to the barn. Alex had forgotten she’d invited her to visit. She lifted her hand and waved as the woman drew near, trying to muster a genuine smile. A pang of disappointment hit her, but she pushed it away, reminding herself that Justin was an employee—nothing more.

“Miss Grey, I see you found our ranch.” Alex nodded at the woman sitting sidesaddle on the prancing mare. She certainly could handle a horse. “Would you like to step down and come in?”

“It’s Christy, remember?” Something about her tone seemed sharp and unnatural. “No, thank you; I won’t be here long.” She turned her attention to the corral, and her eyes widened. “Is that Toby?”

Justin stopped his tedious circle and stepped alongside the boy. “Yes. And you are?”

Alex frowned and looked from one to the other. Christy knew Toby, but Justin didn’t know her? She’d asked for him by name. It wouldn’t be easy for most men to forget a woman like this.

Christy’s eyes swung toward Justin and narrowed. Her horse snorted and sidestepped. “You know very well who I am, Justin Phillips.”

He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair then slid it back onto his head. “I’m afraid you have the advantage.” He turned to Alex. “You know this woman? You called her Miss Grey.”