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His words stopped her like a brick wall. Slade had a nasty streak of temper, but he’d never used those words with her before. Steeling herself against the hurt, she turned slowly back to face him. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this, and she didn’t have to take it.
Every word she spoke felt chiseled out of ice. “Don’t you ever call me that again. I’m not lying. I’ve been working all night.”
His fist crushed the empty beer can and tossed it toward the trash. Missing the mark, it clattered across the linoleum. “You expect me to believe you haven’t been with Beau Tyler?”
His question sucked the air out of her. She struggled for breath. “What’s the matter with you? Beau’s gone. He left for Washington three days ago.”
“That’s not what I heard.” Slade folded his arms across his muscular chest, looking so smug that she wanted to fly at him and claw the smirk off his face. “A friend told me he stuck around to help with the roundup. Maybe he stuck around for a little bit of something else, too. What’ve you got to say about that?”
Natalie felt herself crumbling. Blinking away furious tears, she held herself rigidly erect. She couldn’t let him see how his news had affected her.
“Even if I had known, it wouldn’t have made any difference. I was at the Lindfords’. If you don’t believe me, call and ask them. Make up some excuse—like maybe I lost my watch and want to know if they found it. Or maybe I’m not back yet, and you’re worried. Right now I’m so tired I don’t care what you do—or what you believe. If you have anything left to say, we can talk in the morning.”
She turned away and headed down the hall, praying he wouldn’t follow her. She didn’t want to make up. She didn’t even want to be touched. All she wanted was to be left alone.
“I’m going downstairs to watch wrestling,” he called after her, and she almost melted with relief. “But hear this, lady. Nobody lays a hand on my wife. If that bastard Tyler comes anywhere near you, so help me, I’ll kill him!”
On Sundays, when Tori came to pick up her daughter, she was expected to stay for dinner. Awkward as it sometimes felt, she tolerated the time-honored custom because it gave Erin a sense of family. It also helped Tori keep abreast of happenings on the ranch. Anything that might affect Erin was a concern to her.
Tonight the main dish was roast wild turkey, which Jasper had shot from the ATV he used to get around the ranch. The old man might not be able to ride a horse anymore, but his distance vision was still good and he could handle a gun with the best.
Over the years, the line between the Tylers and their longtime staff had faded. Jasper, as usual, had joined them at the table. Bernice, too, would take her place once the food was served. Sometimes Sky dined with them, but mostly he seemed to be busy elsewhere. Or maybe it was just that he preferred a peaceful meal in his side of the brick duplex he shared with Jasper. Conversations at the Tylers’ table could get pretty dramatic.
Since it was a family occasion, they joined hands while Jasper said grace. As he rambled on, Tori caught herself peering at the circle of familiar faces from beneath her half-lowered eyelashes.
Erin’s freshly scrubbed features revealed glimpses of the beautiful woman she would become one day. And her body . . . Tori felt a gnawing panic as she realized her daughter’s little breasts were already budding beneath her pink T-shirt. When had that happened? It was time to shop for a training bra.
Jasper and Bernice were getting older, too. Now that Bull was gone, they were the only remaining links to the past, the keepers of memory and the keepers of secrets. More secrets, Tori sensed, than anyone in the family suspected.
Wise, cynical Beau, he was the closest thing to a brother that Tori, an only child, had ever known.
In their teen years, he’d been her confidant, her shoulder to cry on when Will ignored her. Then Natalie had come along. Tori had once believed that Natalie and Beau would live happily ever after. But sad experience had taught her that fairy-tale endings were just that—fairy tales.
Which brought her furtive gaze to Will.
A familiar ache stirred in Tori’s throat as she studied him, head bowed, eyes closed. He looked tired, she thought. The creases had deepened at the corners of his eyes, and his dark hair had taken on a sheen of silver. He was only thirty-nine, but since Bull’s accident, and especially now, following Bull’s death, Will’s duties as head of the ranch family weighed heavily on him.
Tori wasn’t surprised that he was still single. He was married to the ranch; he always had been.
“Amen,” Jasper rumbled.
With a murmured “Amen” and a whoosh of relief, Erin reached for the basket of Bernice’s fresh, hot rolls, took one, and passed it on. Soon plates were filled with turkey, stuffing, potatoes and gravy, buttered carrots, and fresh green salad.
“Well, Tori, what do you think of Erin’s new foal?” Bernice asked, making conversation.
“He’s a beautiful little thing,” Tori said. “But I’m aware of the gelding issue, and frankly, I’m uneasy about Erin raising a stud, especially for her first horse.”
“Oh, Mom, I’ll be fine!” Erin speared a second hot roll. “Sky’s helping me train him. Tesoro already knows my smell and my voice. Anyway, I like the idea of having my very own stallion. It’ll be cool.”
“It won’t be cool if he hurts you.” Tori glanced across the table at Will. “There are other pregnant
mares out there. Why not let her choose a different foal?”
“No, Mom!” Erin’s fork clattered to her plate. “Daddy promised me Tesoro! He’s already mine and I won’t give him up!”
“Give it time, Tori.” Beau had always been the peacemaker. “That foal has a lot of growing up to do, and so does Erin. For now they’ll be fine together. Later on, if he shows signs of being hard to handle, we can decide what to do.”
“Beau’s right, Tori,” Will said. “I know you’re worried. I was, too, but I’ve thought it over. I did promise Erin the foal, and she’s already attached to him. Nothing’s going to happen while he’s little.”
