in from the ranch. Two leppies and one rejected twin that Jancey hasn’t been able to graft onto another cow.”
Cal gave a shudder. “Better you than me.” He began firing the cards around the table with deadly accuracy.
“My sister has a soft spot for orphans.” And usually that wasn’t a problem, but without Cole there to intercede, Miranda was keeping Jancey busy to the point that she was having trouble keeping up with the feedings.
“Karl’s not really set up for livestock, is he?” Mike asked, picking up the cards as they landed in front of him.
“His fences are all falling apart and his corrals are little more than a memory, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah. Pretty much. When I moved to town and had to find homes for my livestock, he wasn’t a lot of help.”
Cal smiled at Cole. “It’s because of Marlene, you know.”
“Marlene?” A woman had soured Karl on cattle?
Mike nodded. “His ma’s milk cow. I guess she kicked him whenever she got a chance, slapped him in the face with her tail if he didn’t have it properly pinned to the side. She hated him—”
“And he hated her,” Cal added. “But his mother kept him milking until he left home. Even the nicer cow after Marlene hated him. Maybe it’s a chemical thing. Maybe he has a scent…or something…that cows instinctively dislike.”
Mike looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes at the theory. “Whatever the reason, he doesn’t keep livestock. He drew the line at goats, too.”
Cole glanced at his cards and managed not to frown. “But he cowboyed on our ranch when he was a young guy.”
“He was in charge of the remuda. The horses. He likes horses but never had a mind to own one.”
“Except for Taylor’s horse,” Mike murmured as he stared at his hand. Carefully he set one card on the table in front of him. Cole looked at his single pair of sevens and debated.
“That’s right,” Cal said, slapping four cards down. “Paid through the nose for a horse she rode for two months a year.”
“Sounds like he indulged her,” Cole said. She certainly showed signs of being well indulged. He laid down all but the pair, then picked up the hodgepodge of useless cards Cal dealt him. Okay. Pair of sevens it is.
“Let’s just say that if Taylor wanted it, and Karl and Becky could afford it, Taylor got it,” Mike murmured, his focus on his cards.
“But look at her now—living in the bunkhouse until she gets back on her feet,” Cal said brightly as he tossed five chips onto the table. “She’s scrappy, that one.”
Scrappy wasn’t a word Cole would use to describe Taylor, but he kept his opinion to himself. He pushed forward a stack of chips. “Raise.” He figured with these guys, he’d literally better go big or go home. So he had a pair of wimpy sevens. Bluffing was part of the game.
Mike tossed some chips onto the table, and then Cal leaned toward Cole, who instantly wondered if the old cardsharp was trying to see his hand. “What will you do if Karl comes back to the ranch? Raise.” He matched the raise and added another five chips. Mike laid down his cards.
“Keep him away from the cows, I guess.” Cole studied his cards. This didn’t feel right.
Cal shook his head. “I mean with Taylor in the bunkhouse and all?”
Cole shrugged carelessly and matched Cal’s bet. “I think she’ll get a job and move before too long. I call.”
There was a knock on the front door, and before anyone could move, Mike’s nephew, Dylan Culver, came in. “Started without me, I see.” He took off his coat and then grinned at Cole. “Got any money left?”
“He has plenty of money…for now,” Cal said, slapping down three kings and pulling in the pot.
Dylan gave a snort as he grabbed a beer out of the fridge, then sat. He rubbed his hands together and cracked his knuckles. “I’m ready to be fleeced.”
Cal rolled his eyes and passed the deck to Mike. “Hey…you said you were going to have to get someone new to help out at the store. Maybe Taylor, if she can’t find anything else.”
Dylan and Cole instantly looked at one another, and Cole saw that Dylan’s thoughts were the same as his own. Fat freaking chance.
Mike coughed. “Uh, yeah.” He stretched his mouth into a tactful smile and started dealing.
“Taylor never really fit in with the locals,” Dylan said when Cal gave him a “what?” look. “She had bigger and better things planned than a life in the Eagle Valley.” He picked up his cards before saying under his breath, in a voice that only Cole could hear, “And she wasn’t shy about sharing that sentiment.”
* * *
“THEY’LL LET ME know on Tuesday.” Taylor handed Carolyn her drink. “It’s a big step down, but I can work my way back up. It sounded as if that’s what they expect me to do.”
Carolyn gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she picked up her espresso. “If you were going to settle, I wish you’d done it in Seattle.”
Taylor didn’t agree. What would it be like not to head out with Carolyn on their famous shopping expeditions? Or meet for drinks or dinner once a week? If she had to take a step down in pay, she was glad she wasn’t in the city she loved. This way she could pay her penance, then return to Seattle and resume her former existence—only this time with more savings and the sad knowledge that no one was irreplaceable, not even those who worked eighty-hour weeks.
“Where would I have lived?”
“It wouldn’t have been in a farm barn thing.”
“Bunkhouse.” Taylor sipped her tea latte. “But it would have been something equivalent in Seattle, in neighborhoods I’d be afraid to live in.”
“Roomies?”
“Who?” Where would she find someone compatible to live with? It was such a crapshoot.
She’d move in with Carolyn in a heartbeat, but her friend was locked into a lease on her studio for the next seven months.
“Sell the Z?”
Taylor sighed and set down her cup. “I’ve been so close…but…” It was stupid to be emotionally attached to a piece of metal. “I think it’ll be good for me to work my way up again. Gain new experiences.”
“Live in the sticks.”
“Missoula isn’t exactly the sticks. It’s got a lot to offer.” More than the Eagle Valley, even if it did have its share of the rich and famous. Most of the people of means who moved there did it to escape city life rather than bring it with them.
“Will you move to Missoula?”
“Just as soon as I get a nest egg built up. I figure six months of commuting and then I’ll get an apartment. Right now driving is cheaper than renting.” By a large margin, or she wouldn’t have considered commuting.
They finished their drinks while chatting about people they both knew. Most of the staff who had been downsized with Taylor had also left Seattle for other cities, other jobs. Some had done what Taylor was about to do, accepting jobs at a lower level or in a different field entirely. One of their mutual friends had decided that this was the nudge she needed to head to LA and try her luck at acting.
Taylor paid the tab, over Carolyn’s protests, saying it was only coffee and she wasn’t destitute. Max complained loudly from inside the SUV and scraped his claws down the side of the plastic cat carrier as they approached the vehicle. Taylor made a face.
“His Majesty is about to take the kennel apart from the inside out.” She pushed her windblown