Page 43 of Taming the Wild Cowboy

“Huh.” When Wade reached the pen, he leaned on the rails, watching the cow who watched him back.

Mac gave Trev a sideways look and pointed at the door, indicating she was going to work. He nodded, his lips curving ever so slightly as he said in a low voice, “Let me know if you need help putting the windbreak back up.”

Mac made a sour face at him, her expression shifting to neutral when Wade gave the two of them a frowning look.

“I’ll check in when I’m done,” she said. “Until then …” She lifted her hand in a mock salute then turned and headed for the door.

*

Shay Crawford waved Maclyn to the table she’d staked out near the back wall of Grey’s Saloon. “Glad you could make it.”

She beamed at Maclyn like she was an old friend, tucking her straight blond hair behind one ear. They’d worked together for three years, but hadn’t really interacted, except at the barbecues the Benningtons threw for departing guests. So why hadn’t they interacted more, both being year-round employees of the guest ranch?

Because the Benningtons kept their employees both separated and busy. There were outside people, inside people, and little opportunity to mingle. Robyn and Julian were snobs, and they liked the class system they’d set up. The big question had always been which group was superior to the other? Both felt they had the edge.

Mac smiled as she pulled out a chair. “Thanks for the invite and thanks again for sending me to Lanes Feed and Supply.”

“Glad that worked out.” Shay’s eyes crinkled at the corner. “Just not in the way I expected. I ordered a pitcher. Hope that’s okay.”

“Works for me.” Maclyn took a moment to look around the saloon. She’d only been there a handful of times, but the sheer age of the building always impressed her. Being a Wednesday, the place wasn’t exactly rocking, but most of the tables and barstools were occupied.

“They do have bar food. They’ll microwave anything on this menu. I ordered the mozzarella sticks for a start.”

Mac read the choices, and her stomach growled. Microwaved mozzarella sticks sounded wonderful. “I’m good with that.” She put the card back with the list of draft beers and folded her hands on the scarred table. “Have they replaced me yet?”

“They can’t find anyone up to standards.” Shay leaned back in her chair, giving Maclyn an it’s-their-own-fault look.

“They will when Western graduates its next Equine Studies class.”

“And that is a few months away. I like watching them squirm, to tell you the truth.”

“Why do you stay?”

“Why did you?”

Easy answer. “Wrangler jobs are not that common, and I loved the work. I didn’t get bothered much”—because the Benningtons knew nothing about horses—“so I had no complaints.”

The bartender raised a hand, and Shay pushed back her chair. “Order up.”

Mac followed Shay to the bar to carry the glasses back to the table while Shay managed the pitcher and plate of food. After they’d settled and the beer was poured, Shay gave Mac a conspiratorial look. “You asked why I stay? It’s because I’m family.”

Maclyn felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. Had she insulted the woman while thinking they were on the same page? This was why she rarely socialized anymore. She was too damned rusty.

“Shirt tail for sure, but Julian is afraid of his grandmother who likes me, so he leaves me alone. Another year or two and I’ll have enough saved to buy a little business, and I’ll be gone, but for now, I have room and board and simple tastes, so I can save money.”

“What kind of business?”

“I’m not sure. I’m doing market research. I was thinking a kitchen specialty store, maybe in Bozeman. Catering is a possibility. I have a couple of years to decide and I’m taking online business courses.”

“Meanwhile, I’m looking for a job shoveling you-know-what.”

Shay reached for a cheese stick, her eyes alight with amusement. “We all have our gifts.”

Maclyn choked a little on her beer and Shay put a hand on her mouth to keep from laughing.

How had she not hooked up with this woman earlier? She’d been happy enough on her own, with the summer hires for company, but the winters were long and a friend would have been great.

Brooke. That was why she’d kept to herself. The woman had slammed the hell out of her trust level. It felt safer to only let relationships go so far.