Page 28 of Paper Horses

“Did they sabotage me?”

She pushed off the wall. “I’m not saying I know if they did, but when you put the ranch up for sale, let’s just say all of us were relieved when they didn’t get it.” She put her hand on my arm and gave me that motherly smile she was famous for. “And that woman in there. She’s got you more agitated than anything that’s happened on that ranch. That might not be a bad thing.”

She walked away, leaving me there to think about her words. To ponder whether I’d been blind to manipulative, underhanded moves that sent my dream tumbling. I glanced through the door, my eyes instantly searching for Olivia, who was still in the dressing room. And I couldn’t help but note how disappointed I was that she wasn’t out yet.

Chapter 8

Liv

The mirror reflected someone I didn’t know. A woman I had never been. I turned to look at my butt in the tight jeans, thinking maybe I should have given them a try after college. I’d forgotten how good they made it look. Skirts and dresses. Heels and blouses. Designer and one of a kind. That was my life now. I’d left jeans and T-shirts, sweatshirts and comfortable clothes behind the day I’d left Hudson. They were part of a life I couldn’t have.

I was my father’s perfect daughter. The one who constantly needed to strive for the top and climb above it to even catch his attention. I had turned my back on what I wanted, seeking his attention even while I was plotting revenge against him.

Sighing, I turned around and gave myself another look. The shirt and jeans Hudson had picked up were the last things I’d tried on. That shirt. Damn, that shirt made me look sexy. I poked my breasts where they gathered with too much flesh puffing above the low neckline. The tight fit squeezed them together, so they looked about a size bigger. The uneven hem of the shirt showed flashes of my stomach where some of the fabric rose higher than others. All I needed was a cowboy hat, and I’d fit right in. I shook my head and pulled the shirt off, throwing it into the pile of shirts Sheila had picked with me. A few other jeans lay on the floor near a pair of tan cowboy boots.

I rubbed my temple, thinking how I wanted to be back in New York drinking away memories of Hudson before I stopped and stared at myself. Was that what I really wanted? I was thirty-seven. My life was lonely, and if I really admitted it, empty. Gabe and Tori were the only part that made it livable, and that rugrat of theirs, even though I would never admit that to them.

I sat on the small bench, shoving the clothes over, and rested my head in my hands. I didn’t like what being here with Hudson was doing to me. How it was lowering my defenses, making me question the life I had, the cage I’d built to shield the world from knowing my emotions and protect me from those emotions that I’d buried so far they stood no chance of harming me.

“Are you okay in there, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? I wanted to shout about how demeaning that was, but something about her tone told me everyone was a sweetheart to her. Damn, two nice women in one town. Where were the nasty looks and judgmental side-eyes, the insults about how cold I was or how I needed to smile more?

“I’m fine,” I said, standing and finding my dress. “Just overwhelmed by the amount of cotton in here.”

“This is farmland, sweetie, not the city.”

“I know.” I pulled the jeans off and threw them with the other clothes. Once I had my dress buttoned, I stepped into my heels and fixed my hair. My loose curls looked frizzy, and my makeup was fading. I rubbed the side of my nose, seeing the splatter of freckles, light brown and easily hidden by foundation. A memory of Hudson’s lips sliding across them as he murmured how he loved them flickered in the distance, and I turned from the mirror.

Stepping from the dressing room, I threw my hand in the air and said, “I’ll just take it all. There’s no other choice, and I’m sure he’ll insist on having me clean piles of shit if I don’t get them.”

She chuckled, making her way to the counter. “Just bring them up and I’ll get you all set,” she said as a bell jingled.

“Good luck getting her to do that, Sheila. She doesn’t do manual work.” Hudson tromped into the dressing room and gathered up the clothes.

“That’s better,” I said until he shoved them into my hands. I struggled to hold them all, a few shirts dropping as they slipped through my fingers.

He shook his head and bent to pick them up, holding out the one he’d chosen and meeting my eyes. A smirk, sexy and devastating, formed, causing the blood to stir in my lower body. “Bet that’s something to look at,” he mumbled, piling them into my already full hands.

He didn’t give me time to respond before he trounced back to the dressing room, emerging with the boots, which he plopped on the counter. I stood with my pile, trying to keep the clothes from falling and half-tempted to throw them at him.

“Good Lord,” he muttered, grabbing them from me. “How do you accomplish anything?”

He tossed them onto the counter.

“With paid help,” I snapped.

The look he gave me caused my knees to shake.

“Aren’t you two fun? Hudson, I haven’t seen you this animated in…well, ever.”

He grumbled something unintelligible, snatching a necklace with a black leather cord for the chain and throwing it into the pile.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

He didn’t answer as Sheila went, “Oh, that’s good thinking!”

She bustled from behind the counter, rummaging behind me and mumbling about accessories as Hudson and I kept our gazes locked. It was intense holding his eyes. Broody, like a swirling storm. I couldn’t read him, nor understand why he would add the necklace. I had plenty of jewelry, none of it here but the diamond bracelet and earrings I’d worn, but nothing seemed as personal as that necklace. A statement. One I didn’t understand.