manure again,” she’d said when she’d left home at eighteen. “And I will never marry a cowboy.”
Dana always thought Stacy should have been more specific about the type of man she would marry. She’d married at nineteen, divorced at twenty-two, married again at twenty-four, divorced at twenty-nine, married again at thirty-two and divorced. None of them were cowboys.
“Hi, Dana,” Stacy said quietly.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Dana asked in her storeowner tone.
Stacy flushed. “I…no…that is I don’t want to buy anything.” She clutched her purse, her fingersworking the expensive leather. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
Dana hadn’t seen Stacy since their mother’s funeral and they hadn’t spoken then. Nor did she want to speak to her now. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“Jordan asked me to stop by,” Stacy said, looking very uncomfortable.
Jordan. Perfect. “He didn’t have the guts to do it himself?”
Stacy sighed. “Dana.”
“What is it Jordan couldn’t ask me?” She hated to think what it would be since her brother hadn’t seemed to have any trouble making demands of her yesterday on the phone.
“He would like us all to get together and talk at the ranch this evening,” Stacy said.
“About what?” As if she didn’t know, but she wanted to hear Stacy say it. So far Jordan had been the one who’d spoken for both Clay and Stacy. Not that Dana doubted the three were in agreement. Especially when it came to money.
But Stacy ignored the question. “We’re all going to be there at seven, even Clay,” Stacy continued as if she’d memorized her spiel and just had to get the words out.
That was so like Jordan to not ask if it was convenient for Dana. She wanted to tell her sister that she was busy and that Jordan would have to have his family meeting somewhere else—and without her.
Stacy looked down at her purse. Her fingers were still working theleather nervously. As she slowly lifted her gaze, she said, “I was hoping you and I could talk sometime. I know now isn’t good.” Her eyes filled with tears and for a moment Dana thought her sister might cry.
The tears would have been wasted on Dana. “Now definitely isn’t good.” She’d gotten by for five years without talking to Stacy. Recently, she’d added her brothers to that list. Most of the time, she felt she could go the rest of her life without even seeing or hearing from them.
Stacy seemed to be searching her face. Of course, her sister would have heard Hud was back in town. For all Dana knew, Hud might even have tried to see Stacy. The thought curdled her stomach. She felt her skin heat.
“Mother came by to see me before she died,” Stacy said abruptly.
It was the last thing Dana expected her sister to say. A lump instantly formed in her throat. “I don’t want to hear this.” But she didn’t move.
“I promised her I would try to make things right between us,” Stacy said, her voice breaking.
“And how would you do that?”
The bell over the door of the shop jangled. Kitty Randolph again. “This blue still isn’t quite right,” the older woman said, eyeing Stacy, then Dana, her nose for news practically twitching.
“Let me see what else we have,” Dana said, coming out from behind the counter.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Mrs. Randolph said, stealing a look at Stacy who wasstill standing at the counter.
“No, Mrs. Randolph, your timing was perfect,” Dana said, turning her back on her sister as she went to the thread display and began to look through the blues. She’d already picked the perfect shade for the slacks, but pretended to look again.
She suspected that Kitty had seen Stacy come into the shop and was only using the thread color as an excuse to see what was going on.
“How about this one, Mrs. Randolph?” Dana asked, holding up the thread the woman had already purchased.
“That looks more like it. But please,
Dana always thought Stacy should have been more specific about the type of man she would marry. She’d married at nineteen, divorced at twenty-two, married again at twenty-four, divorced at twenty-nine, married again at thirty-two and divorced. None of them were cowboys.
“Hi, Dana,” Stacy said quietly.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Dana asked in her storeowner tone.
Stacy flushed. “I…no…that is I don’t want to buy anything.” She clutched her purse, her fingersworking the expensive leather. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
Dana hadn’t seen Stacy since their mother’s funeral and they hadn’t spoken then. Nor did she want to speak to her now. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“Jordan asked me to stop by,” Stacy said, looking very uncomfortable.
Jordan. Perfect. “He didn’t have the guts to do it himself?”
Stacy sighed. “Dana.”
“What is it Jordan couldn’t ask me?” She hated to think what it would be since her brother hadn’t seemed to have any trouble making demands of her yesterday on the phone.
“He would like us all to get together and talk at the ranch this evening,” Stacy said.
“About what?” As if she didn’t know, but she wanted to hear Stacy say it. So far Jordan had been the one who’d spoken for both Clay and Stacy. Not that Dana doubted the three were in agreement. Especially when it came to money.
But Stacy ignored the question. “We’re all going to be there at seven, even Clay,” Stacy continued as if she’d memorized her spiel and just had to get the words out.
That was so like Jordan to not ask if it was convenient for Dana. She wanted to tell her sister that she was busy and that Jordan would have to have his family meeting somewhere else—and without her.
Stacy looked down at her purse. Her fingers were still working theleather nervously. As she slowly lifted her gaze, she said, “I was hoping you and I could talk sometime. I know now isn’t good.” Her eyes filled with tears and for a moment Dana thought her sister might cry.
The tears would have been wasted on Dana. “Now definitely isn’t good.” She’d gotten by for five years without talking to Stacy. Recently, she’d added her brothers to that list. Most of the time, she felt she could go the rest of her life without even seeing or hearing from them.
Stacy seemed to be searching her face. Of course, her sister would have heard Hud was back in town. For all Dana knew, Hud might even have tried to see Stacy. The thought curdled her stomach. She felt her skin heat.
“Mother came by to see me before she died,” Stacy said abruptly.
It was the last thing Dana expected her sister to say. A lump instantly formed in her throat. “I don’t want to hear this.” But she didn’t move.
“I promised her I would try to make things right between us,” Stacy said, her voice breaking.
“And how would you do that?”
The bell over the door of the shop jangled. Kitty Randolph again. “This blue still isn’t quite right,” the older woman said, eyeing Stacy, then Dana, her nose for news practically twitching.
“Let me see what else we have,” Dana said, coming out from behind the counter.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Mrs. Randolph said, stealing a look at Stacy who wasstill standing at the counter.
“No, Mrs. Randolph, your timing was perfect,” Dana said, turning her back on her sister as she went to the thread display and began to look through the blues. She’d already picked the perfect shade for the slacks, but pretended to look again.
She suspected that Kitty had seen Stacy come into the shop and was only using the thread color as an excuse to see what was going on.
“How about this one, Mrs. Randolph?” Dana asked, holding up the thread the woman had already purchased.
“That looks more like it. But please,
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