“What was she doing at the gallery?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It was a gallery. Tour guide?”
“If you don’t know what she did—and she clearly wasn’t happy—why send her back?”
“Because it’s safer.”
I nod slowly and sit back. Who am I to argue with that?
“Rose has a talent for finding trouble—and New York is the kind of place that sharpens that unfortunate skill. I’ve got to get her out of there.”
“Well, don’t come lookin’ to me for advice. I’ve got my own shit to deal with. Dallas came home drunk again last night, and I need to deal with inventory, timesheets, and”—I blow out a breath—“fuck knows what else. I need to go to the Saddle Room and run through some schedules. After that, I’ll check on the south pasture and work my way up.”
My head is all over the place. I worry about my brother. I worry about the ranch. Mostly, I worry about the town talk. If Ricky and Dusty Callahan from Callahan Ranch get wind of the disorganized mess we’re becoming, they’ll use it in the worst way.
Not to mention, they’ve got that big annual rodeo coming up that’ll make us take a hit with sales and bookings.
Wesley keeps his gaze on the fields. Just when I think he’s in his own head and barely listening, his eyes find mine with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Sounds like you need help.”
I’m about to tell him I’ve needed help for weeks when the meaning behind his words hit me. I glare up at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
Wes holds up his hands innocently. “I’m just saying, maybe Blue River is exactly what Rose needs. She’s great with people, well-mannered—”
“Well-mannered?” I burst out with a laugh. “I’ve been your best friend for ten years, and for the lastsix, been hearing ’bout how you always have to step in and clean up her mess.”
He shrugs like I didn’t just flat-out contradict him. “Lord knows you could use the extra help around here. And she’s a helluva lot more well-mannered than you or Dallas at the moment, I might point out.”
“I ain’t ever been well-mannered.”
“Great. Then you two will get along just fine.”
“The answer is no.” Immediate and firm no. “This place is hard work, and Rose is .?.?.” I struggle for the right choice of words. “She’s not exactly built for ranch life.”
“She’s tougher than she looks,” Wes argues. “And she’s not a kid anymore, Wilder. Besides, you wouldn’t have to babysit her. I’ll make sure she pulls her weight.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have time to train some city girl who’s never been near a horse; I need someone to help me run this place. This is the busiest time of year, Wes. We’re already spread too thin for me to be watching her between tasks.”
“She wasn’t always a city girl, and we had plenty of horses down in South Carolina—not totally country, but close enough.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re missing the point.”
“One summer. And hell, if she’s not workin’ out here, I could use her help in the kitchen. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I yell,” I remind him carefully.
“She’s got thick skin.”
Yeah, but I remember cutting through it just fine when she thought I’d rat her out.
“I ain’t about to bite my tongue. No matter whose sister she is.”
“You really should consider anger management.”
“Forget it.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Rose worked for some ill-tempered people in New York; she’s used to it.”
That makes my chest tight with a different kind of rage. Protectiveness. Hell, I may not know her, but she’s Wes’s kidsister. Of course I’d feel protective of her.
