in an old pink bathtub seemed appropriate. Her life wasn’t the same as it once was. Eventually she’d be home again, fighting deadlines and drinking wine out of crystal stemware, but in the meantime, a glass her grandmother had pulled out of a detergent box forty or fifty years ago worked.
The water was dangerously high by the time Taylor slipped out of her clothes and eased into the tub. It lapped at the edge but didn’t spill over. She slid deeper, closing her eyes as the excess water gurgled into the overflow. The wine and the book could wait. Right now she was just going to—
A bang on the door brought her upright.
Another bang and she stood up, water sheeting off her and splashing onto the floor as she grabbed her towel. She heard the kitchen door open and cursed under her breath. So much for warning phone calls…
“Hello?”
Taylor froze.
That was not Cole. Far from it. The voice was feminine.
“Cole?”
Cole had a woman in his life. That solved the problem of what to do about the kiss. Taylor hitched the towel up a little higher. She’d never been the other woman. Hell, she wasn’t the other woman now. She cracked open the door. “Hi?”
The footsteps that had passed by the bathroom stopped dead and then came back toward her. “Who are you?”
Taylor closed the door again—just in case this woman was the volatile kind. “I live next door. I don’t have a tub. Cole let me use his while he’s gone.” And it’s really my grandfather’s tub.
“There is no next door.”
“The bunkhouse. I live in the bunkhouse.”
“No one lives in the bunkhouse. I’d know.”
Guess again, honey.
“Look,” the woman continued, “if you’re hooking up with my brother, I don’t—”
Taylor opened the door. “Your brother?”
The woman, who was younger than Taylor had assumed, looked so much like Cole it was spooky. Definitely telling the truth about the relationship.
Taylor wrapped her towel a little tighter. “I’m Karl Evans’s granddaughter, Taylor.”
Cole’s sister gave her a skeptical look. “If you’re living here, then why didn’t my brother tell me?”
“Because he’s the most closemouthed individual I know?”
The sister gave a considering nod. “You might be right.” She glanced down the hall, then back at Taylor. “This is kind of embarrassing.”
“Was Cole expecting you?” The girl’s mouth tightened, and that was when Taylor noted the blotchiness around her beautiful eyes. She’d either been crying or trying hard not to cry.
“No.” She gave a small shrug. “I’m Jancey, by the way.”
“Nice name.”
“Norwegian uncle. Only his name was pronounced Yancey. I’m glad they went with ‘J.’”
“Ah.”
The girl glanced down at her very worn Western boots as if debating a course of action. “I kind of expected Cole to be here.”
“He’ll be back tonight. You could call him.”
She shook her head. “Not a phone matter.”
Taylor shivered. The house was cold. “I need to get dressed. Give me a second?” Because she didn’t want this girl, who was obviously upset, to disappear into the night.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll raid the fridge.”
“Good plan.”
Taylor pulled the door closed, dropped the towel and reached into the still deliciously warm water to pull the plug. Goodbye, first bath in forever…
She dressed in a hurry, grabbed the wine bottle, the glass and her book, and headed out into the kitchen, where Jancey was sitting at the empty table with no food in sight.
“Is the fridge empty?”
“I guess I’m really not hungry.” She folded her arms across her midsection. “I didn’t know Karl had a granddaughter. I’ve only been here a couple times. I came with Cole when they made the farming deal.”
“I used to spend summers—well, parts of summers—here. My dad grew up here.” Brought my mother here and ruined her life. Anyway, that was how Cecilia told the story.
“Why are you back?”
“I got laid off and couldn’t find a job where I lived. I needed a place to stay while I look for another job.”
“And Cole let you stay here?”
Taylor barely kept from giving a derisive snort. “We…came to an agreement.”
“Cole came here to get away from things.”
“So I gather.”
Jancey looked past Taylor to the darkened window behind her. “I might be staying here, too.”
“The more the merrier,” Taylor said lamely. Whatever the girl’s reason for moving in, Taylor didn’t think it was a happy one.
“Yeah.” Jancey attempted a smile, but it fell flat.
“If I cooked something, would you eat it?”
The girl raised her eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Except that I’m starving and the stove in the bunkhouse is really old and doesn’t work very well.”
“You should get a microwave.”
“I had one, but it got stolen. And I don’t think the wiring could take it.”
“I’m surprised you’re living there. You must have fixed it up.”
“Patched a hole in the floor.” Taylor went to the cupboard to see what Cole had on hand. As she’d hoped, he had spaghetti and sauce. In her experience, pasta made everything better.
She put water on to boil, adding oil and salt. Everything was exactly where it had been when she’d stayed with her grandfather years ago. Cole had made no changes or additions to the kitchen, and Karl had barely taken anything with him.
“Are you in school?” Taylor asked as she opened the spaghetti sauce.
“I start college in the fall. I graduated high school almost a year ago and decided to work for a year so that I didn’t have to borrow as much money.”
“Great plan,” Taylor said. “I’m still haunted by loans.” And would be for some time to come.
“It was a great plan. Now…not so much.”
She spoke in a way that didn’t invite questions, so Taylor focused on cooking. “I wish I had hamburger to make a meat sauce.”
“I like plain old red sauce. Our cook does a great Bolognese, but I don’t need meat with my pasta.”
“You have a cook?”
“The ranch does.”
“You work on the guest ranch?”
Jancey’s expression closed off, and Taylor turned back to the stove. All righty, then. “Shouldn’t be too long.” She almost wished aloud for bread but didn’t want to remind Jancey of the cook again.
The phone rang, and Jancey answered. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said after hello. “I’d rather wait until you get here. Okay. See you soon.”
She hung up then smiled a little. “My brother says that you should get out of the tub.”
“Will