The Rancher's Prospect by Callie Endicott Page B

disastrous marriage by becoming a philandering jerk. It was always painful to think about him.
    â€œDo you...er, think Josh is really opposed to you working there?” she asked, trying to push away her memories and the nausea they inspired. Mostly she didn’t like that aspect of the person she’d become, startled by her own shadow and wanting to jump in a rabbit hole whenever someone raised their voice.
    â€œOh, yes,” Tara said, “he definitely doesn’t want me there.”
    â€œWon’t it be difficult to work for Mr. Nelson if Josh is upset about it?”
    â€œNot for me. I’m going to talk with Walt again to establish guidelines. If he has any concerns, we’ll iron them out then. As for any issues Josh might have, that’s his problem.”
    Lauren tried to relax and adopt her sister’s offhand attitude. It hurt to think they could have grown up together, and she had an idea that she might feel stronger if she’d had an ally all those years ago. She’d certainly taken enough psychology classes to see how it could have made a difference.
    Silly. That wasn’t the way it had happened, and there wasn’t any point to thinking about the might-have-beens. At least she’d had a family, however troubled, and her parents loved her, regardless of how their marriage had ended. Tara didn’t have anyone and had never had a real home. Maybe that was why she didn’t worry about where she lived and always seemed to be looking at what was over the horizon.
    It was odd, the way things had turned out.
    * * *
    T HE NEXT AFTERNOON Lauren’s nerves were tighter than ever. She wanted to ask Tara to come over while she got ready for dinner, except it would have meant revealing her tension over going out with Carl Stanfield.
    The phone rang, and she jumped. She grabbed the handset, disgusted with herself for hoping it was Carl, regretfully canceling their evening. “Hello.”
    â€œHey, Lauren,” Emily said. “What are you wearing for the big date?”
    â€œIt isn’t a big date,” Lauren corrected automatically. “We’re just going out to dinner. That is, we’ve already gone out a number of times, so it isn’t something to get carried away about.”
    â€œIf you say so. What are you going to wear?”
    â€œI thought my black blouse and the matching wraparound skirt.”
    â€œNot bad. Just accessorize with something that makes a statement.” Emily’s parents were clothing buyers and her sister a supermodel, so she knew what she was talking about.
    â€œI’m not good at making statements.”
    The doorbell rang. “Sorry, Em, someone’s here. I’ve gotta go,” Lauren said, disconnecting and running to answer it. She found Emily there, grinning at her, cell phone still to her ear. It almost seemed like old times back in LA, except Emily hadn’t been pregnant then.
    Emily came inside and settled on the couch, putting her feet on a stool. “I love being pregnant, but my feet swell. Okay, fashion-show time. Go get dressed.”
    Lauren put on the black skirt and blouse she’d bought in Los Angeles while shopping with Emily. Her friend helped her choose a silver scarf to wear at her waist and place a large silver pin on her shoulder.
    â€œYou look terrific,” Emily said when she got up to leave.
    â€œI can’t compete with Tara’s elegance,” Lauren answered. In contrast to her twin’s sophistication, she felt as if she was a country bumpkin. Before they’d met, Lauren had figured she and her sister would be alike. After all, they were identical twins and she’d read stories of separated twins discovering amazing similarities and parallels in their lives. So far it hadn’t worked out that way.
    â€œWhy would you want to compete with Tara?” Emily countered. “Her clothes work for her, but you have to be yourself, and anyone worth