*
Keith took a quick shower and changed into his best shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. Hat in hand, he knocked on the front door, ready to do whatever he could to mend fences with Jo-Jo Sutton.
“C’mon in, Keith.” She beckoned him inside. “Miranda went upstairs to change. She should be down in a minute or two.”
He wiped his boots on the mat and followed her inside. “Miz Sutton—Jo-Jo,” he amended, “I really did mean what I said about leaving if I’ve offended you.” He hesitated. “Just say the word, and I’ll grab my things and go.”
“It’s all right, Keith.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I was just taken off guard, but not really offended.”
“I wish I could promise you it won’t happen again, but…” He gave a fatalistic shrug. “I really can’t make that promise.”
“Miranda and I have already talked about it. What happens between the two of you is your business, as long as you’re discreet about it, and it doesn’t interfere with the running of this ranch.”
“It won’t. You have my word on that.”
“Your word is good enough for me.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I hope you don’t mind eating in the kitchen,” she said. “I rarely use the dining room since my husband passed. When Miranda came to stay, I tried to switch back to using it, but she said she prefers the kitchen. It’s her favorite room in the house.”
“Me too,” he said. “I love the smells. I’ve always felt the kitchen was the heart of the home. I was raised by my grandparents and always used to sit with my grandmother while she made bread.”
“Does she like to bake?” Jo-Jo asked.
“Yes, but our bread is deep-fried rather than baked. Fry bread is a staple on the rez.”
“Then I’ll have to see if I can make you some. Do you have the recipe?”
“Actually, I do. Right here.” He tapped his head with a grin. “But don’t tell anyone. Where I grew up, men aren’t supposed to know anything about cooking.”
“Do you like to cook?” she asked.
“Sometimes. But I only know how to make a few of my favorite things.”
“Like what?”
“Mostly game dishes—venison, rabbit, elk, black bear. Bear is my specialty.”
“So you do a lot of hunting?”
“Yes. We stock the freezer with fish and game. We buy little meat.”
“Bud loved to hunt bighorn sheep,” she said. “Used to go every year with some buddies of his. We’ve got a whole trophy room, if you’d like to see it later.”
“I’d like that, Jo-Jo.”
“I didn’t get a chance to say so earlier, but I’m glad you’ve come, Keith.”
“I’m happy to help you out,” he said.
“But then you plan to leave again.”
“Yes.”
“Back to Wyoming? That’s a lot of distance to try to make a relationship work,” Jo-Jo remarked.
“It is,” he agreed. “I’m thinking about looking for some ranch work that’s closer.”
“Why not just stay on here?”
“I have some very good reasons for not accepting the job, Miz Sutton. Personal reasons.”
“If you’re serious about ranching, there’s an outfit about twenty miles down the way that’s probably looking. The Knowltons are raising some new hybrid cattle and might be needing some help come calving season. There are a few other places that always hire extra hands for branding. ’Course, that kinda work doesn’t pay a whole lot. If you wanted to reconsider staying on with us, I could try to make it worth your while.”
“I don’t need your money,” he said. “I have no debts and lead a very simple, uncomplicated life. I mostly work because I want to, not so much because I have to.”
“Oh?” Her brows rose inquisitively. Her gray eyes, so much like Miranda’s, pierced him with her next question. “Do you eventually plan to settle down somewhere?”
“Yes… Eventually. I’ve drifted mainly because I haven’t had a good reason to put roots down.”
“I saw your horse out in the small corral. He’s quite a looker.”
Keith breathed easier at the change of topic. “Looks are about all that horse has going for him at the moment,” he replied.
“What do you mean?” Jo-Jo asked.
“He’s been in captivity for over six months, and no one’s been able to do anything with him yet. I was planning to work with him in my spare time.”
“Are you talking about Blue Eye?” Miranda asked, entering the kitchen.
“Yes,” he replied, relieved that the grilling was over.
“I’d love to film you working with him. Would you mind?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Supper smells great, Jo-Jo. I’m starving.”
“I’m not surprised.” Jo-Jo flashed them both a mildly chastising look. “I’m sure you’ve both worked up quite an appetite.”
Chapter 25