“Why’s that?” Jo-Jo asked.
“Because I just heard from Keith. He’s coming to help.” She couldn’t hide her giddy grin. “He said he’ll be here around noon tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s quite a turnaround,” Jo-Jo remarked dryly.
“Maybe not,” Miranda said, her smile fading. “He’s not planning to stay after we bring the horses in.”
“How do you feel about that? Do you still think he’s the right one?”
“Yes. There’s no one better to help us, Jo-Jo.”
“I just hope you and he can manage to work together,” Jo-Jo said skeptically.
“I’m sure we can, Jo-Jo. Keith’s extremely competent. You won’t be disappointed with him.”
“It’s not my disappointment I worry about, Miranda Josephine. It’s yours.”
*
“Here’s your phone back, Mitch,” Keith said. “Looks like I won’t be needing it anymore.”
“So you’re going to take the job after all?” Mitch asked.
Keith shrugged. “I’ll help them get started, but I don’t plan to stay.”
“That so?” Mitch cocked a brow. “I’ve got a notion you might feel differently after you get there.”
“I won’t be changing my mind. I’m only helping them out to prevent a disaster. I’ll be back in Wyoming in a couple of weeks.”
“If that’s the case, you might as well hold onto the phone. You can give it back when you return.”
Keith pocketed the phone. “Thanks, Mitch.”
“When do you leave?”
“I’m heading out tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll text you that contact for the hay. Do they need anything else besides forage?”
“Not that I’m aware of. She said everything seems to be in good shape, other than needing to upgrade the fence.”
“What about saddle horses?” Mitch asked. “Need any of those?”
The suggestion gave Keith pause. He recalled how much Miranda enjoyed riding. She’d told him that her grandmother had sold all the riding horses and kept only a couple of old retirees. Although most outfits had long ago switched to ATVs for most of the real work, it seemed a shame for her to be living on a ranch with no horse to ride. “What do you have?” Keith asked.
“How about a coupla mares?” Mitch suggested. “Sadie’s fully recovered from her leg injury, and I’ve got a filly of hers that might suit you well enough.”
“You looking to sell or lease them?” Keith asked.
“Neither. You can take them as a gift,” Mitch offered. “I’ve got too many that aren’t earning their keep. Might as well reduce the herd before winter.”
Why not take the two mares? Keith had already decided to bring the mustang he’d intended for his grandfather—the one he hadn’t been able to bring himself to return to BLM even after it had failed to win Kenu’s favor. Since he’d now resigned himself to keeping the renegade, it was past time to teach him some manners. Working with the horse would also be the best way to keep himself occupied and his hands off Miranda—if he didn’t get himself killed first. Then again, in that event, he wouldn’t have to worry about keeping his hands off Miranda anymore. Just being near her again would be a huge temptation, one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist.
Chapter 23
Miranda was sitting on the front-porch swing when Keith pulled into the yard. She tossed her iPad down and descended the steps, her pulse skittering as she walked toward his truck. By the time he’d parked, her heart was racing like she’d run a marathon. What would she say? Would it be awkward now? She hoped not. She really wanted it to work out between them. She needed this to succeed for all of their sakes.
He climbed out of the cab, greeting her with a tip of his hat and a tentative smile. Clearly, he felt as uncomfortable as she did.
“Hi, Keith.” She stopped abruptly, an arm’s length away. “Did you have a good trip?” she greeted him lamely, feeling twice as uneasy as she’d imagined.
“It was long,” he replied. “I’m happy not to do it again for a while…I’m even happier to see you.”
“I…um…we’re both really glad you came,” Miranda said. “I was half-afraid you’d change your mind.”
His black eyes captured and held hers. “I don’t make many promises, Miranda, but I always keep the ones I make.”
She could see he was trying, but it still seemed impossible to just pick up where they’d left off. It would take some time to find their footing with each other again.
“Jo-Jo asked me to apologize for not being here to welcome you. She had to run into town for some groceries. I’ll warn you ahead of time that she’s a fantastic cook, as long as you don’t follow a low-fat diet.”
“Are you kidding?” His chuckle sliced the tension. “I grew up on fry bread. It’s cooked in Crisco.”
“Then you should love Jo-Jo’s cooking. I’ve gained five pounds already. If I’m not more careful, I’m going to have to buy some bigger clothes.”