sure she’s still living with Bobby in Vegas,” Candace said, absently staring off toward the Belt Mountains where most of the aspens had turned golden. The only decent thing about the house and flat tract of land was the view.
“Can we get back to Liberty? I think Spike is the one getting her into trouble.”
“As long as he’s not chasing off other boys who are interested in her, I’m not going to interfere.”
Watching her gulp down half her drink, Beth sighed. Once again, it wasn’t the time to have a worthwhile discussion. But then it never was with Candace. Beth glanced at the clock. She had to get to town and be at the boardinghouse before her workers arrived.
Thinking about them reminded her of the lumber order, which led her to Nathan. Yesterday he’d been a shining beacon of hope that life in Blackfoot Falls might be looking up. That had lasted for an hour. After he figured out she was related to the little graffiti artist who’d defaced his water sheds, he’d probably never want to see Beth again.
Not bothering to say anything to her sister, Beth left through the living room, grabbing her phone and wallet off the teak end table. The garage-sale purchase was the nicest piece of furniture in the house and even made the green plaid couch look better. As far as the brown corduroy recliner went, Beth saw no hope for it. Maybe she’d get lucky again at another garage sale.
She climbed into her truck just as her phone buzzed. She smiled when she saw it was a text from Fritz. He sent the same one every week, asking if she’d had enough and was ready to return to work. Her former boss had never said, but she had a feeling he hadn’t expected her to last this long. He’d been good to her, grooming her to be a savvy, confident woman, and she owed him. It was time to make him understand he should hire another assistant.
Wondering where he was, her fingers hovered over the keypad. He could be in Paris or Hong Kong or New York. It didn’t matter since he’d just texted. She wouldn’t be disturbing him. Allowing herself a brief wistful memory of autumn in Paris, she stared at the sad three-bedroom house that was in desperate need of a new roof. She really had to move out. It wasn’t that she needed pretty things. Arguing with Candace and getting nowhere was sucking the soul out of her. Still, she was committed to staying in Blackfoot Falls. Liberty needed her and, to some degree, so did Candace.
Beth dropped the phone on the seat beside her and turned the key in the ignition. She would have that talk with Fritz. Absolutely, she would. Just not right now.
5
N ATHAN LEFT HIS office through the French doors that opened to the garden. He didn’t know why he hadn’t taken his normal route through the house and out the kitchen. It felt odd following the flagstone path. Generally he forgot the flower beds and whimsical-shaped shrubs were there.
Anne had designed the garden and wanted the impractical French doors so they’d match the other three in the den, living room and master bedroom. If she’d been disappointed that he tended to keep the drapes closed, she hadn’t mentioned it and he hadn’t noticed. But apparently, a lot of things in their marriage had gone unnoticed.
If he’d had his way, his office would’ve had a view of the stables and the grassy field that turned to pasture before climbing the foothills. It was all there, beyond the privacy hedge that prevented him from seeing anything but blue sky and the Rockies in the distance. But Anne had asked for so little.
Every now and again he considered cutting down the hedges, but hadn’t followed through. He’d just left them, the way he had the roses. The gesture was a tribute to her, he supposed, though it was Kitty who took care of the flowers, along with the house. They’d hired her to help with the housework a year after he and Anne had married, and she’d been coming twice a week ever since. The woman had adored Anne. And he reckoned
“Can we get back to Liberty? I think Spike is the one getting her into trouble.”
“As long as he’s not chasing off other boys who are interested in her, I’m not going to interfere.”
Watching her gulp down half her drink, Beth sighed. Once again, it wasn’t the time to have a worthwhile discussion. But then it never was with Candace. Beth glanced at the clock. She had to get to town and be at the boardinghouse before her workers arrived.
Thinking about them reminded her of the lumber order, which led her to Nathan. Yesterday he’d been a shining beacon of hope that life in Blackfoot Falls might be looking up. That had lasted for an hour. After he figured out she was related to the little graffiti artist who’d defaced his water sheds, he’d probably never want to see Beth again.
Not bothering to say anything to her sister, Beth left through the living room, grabbing her phone and wallet off the teak end table. The garage-sale purchase was the nicest piece of furniture in the house and even made the green plaid couch look better. As far as the brown corduroy recliner went, Beth saw no hope for it. Maybe she’d get lucky again at another garage sale.
She climbed into her truck just as her phone buzzed. She smiled when she saw it was a text from Fritz. He sent the same one every week, asking if she’d had enough and was ready to return to work. Her former boss had never said, but she had a feeling he hadn’t expected her to last this long. He’d been good to her, grooming her to be a savvy, confident woman, and she owed him. It was time to make him understand he should hire another assistant.
Wondering where he was, her fingers hovered over the keypad. He could be in Paris or Hong Kong or New York. It didn’t matter since he’d just texted. She wouldn’t be disturbing him. Allowing herself a brief wistful memory of autumn in Paris, she stared at the sad three-bedroom house that was in desperate need of a new roof. She really had to move out. It wasn’t that she needed pretty things. Arguing with Candace and getting nowhere was sucking the soul out of her. Still, she was committed to staying in Blackfoot Falls. Liberty needed her and, to some degree, so did Candace.
Beth dropped the phone on the seat beside her and turned the key in the ignition. She would have that talk with Fritz. Absolutely, she would. Just not right now.
5
N ATHAN LEFT HIS office through the French doors that opened to the garden. He didn’t know why he hadn’t taken his normal route through the house and out the kitchen. It felt odd following the flagstone path. Generally he forgot the flower beds and whimsical-shaped shrubs were there.
Anne had designed the garden and wanted the impractical French doors so they’d match the other three in the den, living room and master bedroom. If she’d been disappointed that he tended to keep the drapes closed, she hadn’t mentioned it and he hadn’t noticed. But apparently, a lot of things in their marriage had gone unnoticed.
If he’d had his way, his office would’ve had a view of the stables and the grassy field that turned to pasture before climbing the foothills. It was all there, beyond the privacy hedge that prevented him from seeing anything but blue sky and the Rockies in the distance. But Anne had asked for so little.
Every now and again he considered cutting down the hedges, but hadn’t followed through. He’d just left them, the way he had the roses. The gesture was a tribute to her, he supposed, though it was Kitty who took care of the flowers, along with the house. They’d hired her to help with the housework a year after he and Anne had married, and she’d been coming twice a week ever since. The woman had adored Anne. And he reckoned
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