Maisey Yates - Brokedown Cowboy

Finally, she responded. “Great. I’ll let you know when he comes out the other side. Although, it still won’t be like that.”

“Whatever you say, Liss. Whatever you say.”

Liss’s cell phone vibrated against the surface of her desk. Her landlord’s number flashed over the screen and she frowned, answering the phone as quickly as possible. “Sorry,” she said to Jeanette, grabbing the phone and picking it up, answering quickly. “Hello?”

“Hi, Liss?” Marjorie asked, before plowing into the rest of her sentence. “Our buyer is very motivated to move. In fact, they really need a place to stay, so if we can’t clear out the house fast enough for them, they might look somewhere else. They’re able to pay cash, so they’re very mobile, and this is moving very quickly. I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but if you are able to move out as quickly as possible, I would really appreciate it. I know what your rights are legally, but I thought I would just talk to you personally.”

Of course, because this was Copper Ridge, and your landlord was never just your landlord; they became your friend, too. So when they overasked of you, it was impossible to say no. That was the economy of a small town. Everyone knew they could borrow help if need be, and interest was paid in small favors and homemade pies.

But then, her landlord had not become a good enough friend to refuse to ask something like this of Liss. Of course, she also knew Marjorie would never push or throw her out on the street or anything.

“It just so happens that I lined up a place to stay last night. And I can move in whenever.” She thought of Connor and his house, and her stomach did something weird. Kind of a twist and turn at the same time.

Marjorie breathed out an audible sigh of relief right into Liss’s ear. “If you could start moving out this weekend, it would be really helpful. I just don’t want the sale to fall through. Norm and I are much better off in Arizona, and the sooner we can cut ties with everything here, the better. It isn’t that I don’t love the town, but my joints don’t love the damp.”

“I understand.” Even though she didn’t, really.

“Thank you, Liss. You’ve been a great tenant.” Most especially since Marshall had moved out, but Liss didn’t say it. “Most especially since that boyfriend of yours moved out.” Oh, so Marjorie was going to go ahead and say it. “I hate to lose you, but I’m just too old to be managing properties and going back and forth between places. And if we have to hire a company...”

Liss let her mind wander. She’d heard Marjorie’s hand-wringing on the subject already. She was agreeing to move out; she didn’t know why she needed to subject herself to her landlord’s woes. Which was potentially a little bit unsympathetic, but she was the one who was being massively inconvenienced, so maybe not.

“Okay, sweetie, I’ve got to go,” Marjorie said.

“Okay, talk to you later.” Liss hung up and set her phone on the table. She looked up at Jeanette. “Is it okay if I make one more personal call?”

Jeanette waved a hand. “I’m not the warden. Do your business.”

Liss picked her phone up and dialed Connor’s cell phone number. He still had a flip phone, and half the time it didn’t ring, but it was still worth a try, because she knew he was out in the field right now, rather than at home.

Much to her very pleasant surprise, Connor answered on the second ring. “Liss?”

“Hi, Connor. I just wanted to say...I guess I’m moving in this weekend.”

“I guess I’ll be at your house early Saturday with a truck.” He sounded a little bit dazed, and she couldn’t blame him. She felt a little bit dazed.

“I’ll be waiting. With groceries. As per the agreement.”

“All right, then, Saturday.”

“Saturday,” she repeated, before hanging the phone up.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t a deal at all.

Maybe if she repeated that to herself a few more times she would start to believe it.

CHAPTER FOUR

IT WAS MOVING DAY. Connor had to be at Liss’s house by nine. Which meant he’d been out on his horse by six. The morning air had a mean bite, but he didn’t mind. The needle pokes of wind against his skin, combined with the pounding of his horse’s hooves on the soft ground, went a long way in wiping his mind clean.

Connor rode through the empty field, clumps of mud and grass flying up behind him, hitting the back of his shirt. The clearing was flanked by a grove of trees on the left, and a steep, evergreen-covered pitch of rock on the right. The sky above was filled with gray, misty clouds that seemed to be rolling down toward earth, swallowing the tops of the mountains that surrounded the ranch.

This was morning here in Copper Ridge. All shades of deep green, blue and gray. Until the sun came out and burned the cloud cover away, flooding the ranch with golden light, drawing the scent of dirt, moss, pine out, then washing it all with an ocean breeze. For Connor this was as close to spiritual as it got. Being in this place, this town, where vast stretches of water met vast open land. Where all the essential sources of life were ready and available. This place was in his blood, in his soul.

This land had been here before him, before his family had fenced it, cultivating it, but never taming it. To the best of his ability he would see it was here long after he was gone. In his mind, progress could never mean man-made development on land like this. Progress would be when people realized that everything they needed was already here.

He ignored the hollow ache in his stomach that was trying to remind him even here, even now, he felt a little bit empty.

That even now, with the golden sunlight poured over the evergreen trees, he felt cold down to his soul. That no matter how bright the light shone, it never seemed to touch him.

He ignored that, because there was nothing he could do with it.

He pulled back on the reins, bringing his horse to a stop, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. It was still here. It was early enough in the morning that even the wind was still. It was the kind of vast silence that would swallow up the sound of a man’s voice, consuming it as if he had never spoken.

One man wasn’t powerful enough to disturb beauty like this. It made him feel small, and consequently it made some of his problems feel a lot smaller.

He dismounted from his horse, dropping the reins and leaving her standing there. He walked forward, toward the middle of the clearing, and looked up. For the first time he saw a small patch of blue sky, a ray of sun bursting through.

He closed his eyes, keeping his face angled upward, letting the warmth seep through his skin, praying it would reach his bones.

It didn’t. But it hit him just then that this was the first morning he had woken up without a hangover in quite a while. He hadn’t had a drink last night. He’d been too focused on what it would mean to bring Liss into the house.

He opened his eyes and looked at the sun, and his head didn’t hurt.

All things considered, he figured it would be a pretty good moving day.

* * *

THEY’D ATTACKED THE PROJECT of moving Liss much like a barn raising. All hands on deck, finished by the end of the day. Ultimately, nothing was left undone except for a few empty boxes still in need of disposal, and paper plates with the remnants of pizza, along with a few empty beer bottles, stationed throughout Connor’s house. Of course, there hadn’t been much to move into the house itself.

A bedroom’s worth of furniture, and all her clothes, books and a few kitchen gadgets she hadn’t been willing to part with.

Everything else had gone into a vacant outbuilding on the Garrett property. Which was going to save her a lot in storage fees. Between letting her borrow space on the ranch, space in Connor’s house and the use of their muscles—including Jack’s—Liss was starting to feel as if she was taking an awful lot.