Rodeo Family. Mary Sullivan
“Because I want to know. If it’s super juicy, the rest of the town will want to know, too.”
“But why would it be anyone’s business but the family’s? Everyone in town respects them.”
“Not everyone.”
Nadine cocked her head and Lee continued, “There’s been no love lost between them and their neighbors for a long time.”
Their neighbors were the Broomes. Nadine remembered Tommy Broome from high school. Like Zach, he’d been two years ahead of her. Her memories of him weren’t all good. He’d been aggressive. A bit of a bully.
“There’s a rivalry between them, that’s for sure,” Lee said.
“Why? About what?”
“A feud of some sort.”
“A feud? That’s implies more than a rivalry.”
“Yep.”
“What was the source of the rivalry?”
“Don’t honestly know. Usually these kinds of fights start because of one of three things.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Greed. Love. Sex.”
“What does that have to do with Zach’s paintings?”
Lee shrugged. “Nothing.”
And then she knew. “You used the excuse of Zach’s artistic abilities to get me out on that ranch to interview him.”
“Yep.” That one word, unapologetic, fueled Nadine’s anger. It had been Lee who had urged her to write an article about the Cowboy Painter.
When had Lee changed so much from when she’d worked for him in high school? And why? He didn’t used to be...nasty.
“You used me,” she said, betrayal scooting along her nerves.
“Yep.” Lee threaded his fingers together across his stomach and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t used to be smug, either. “You need to find out what the old secret is.”
“How on earth am I supposed to do that?”
“That’s your problem. You’re the reporter.” Lee’s tone, a mix between order and dismissal, was exactly the problem with working for him.
“Can you give me a hint?” she asked. “What’s the secret about?”
“My mom’s being coy. Said she’ll only talk to Zach about it. It’s going to be your job to get him out to her nursing home.”
“Why don’t you just phone him and talk to him?”
Lee turned away. “We don’t exactly get along.”
See, this was where Nadine and Lee differed. Sure, she was a reporter and liked scoping out stories, but she wasn’t a gossip. She often missed the more salacious stuff going on around town because she wasn’t interested. Rumors and titillation didn’t appeal to her. The truth did.
“Why don’t you and Zach get along?” she asked, because even if this devolved into gossip, it seemed it would have something to do with her getting a story about Zach.
“We had a run-in a couple of years ago.”
“About what?”
“It doesn’t matter.” For a man who usually talked about anything and everything, Lee was being awfully cagey.
Nadine was twenty-nine, which meant Zach must be thirty-one and Lee past retirement age at well over sixty. So whatever the fallout was about, Zach and Lee likely weren’t fighting about a woman. As far as Nadine knew, they had no business dealings, so it wasn’t about money.
What was it? Lee wasn’t talking.
“I can’t butt into the Brandts’ decades-old history,” Nadine said. “I’m going out there to talk to Zach about his artwork.”
Her hand was already on the doorknob when Lee said, “You ignore what I want and you’re fired.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “What?” Fired? Disappointment followed yet another burst of betrayal.
Had she done something wrong in the past year of working for Lee? Something that had upset him? Nothing she could think of.
“I’m giving you a job to do and by God, you’ll do it.” Lee stood, all five feet six inches, hundred and fifty pounds of him bristling like a hedgehog. “Weasel that secret out of Zach. I don’t care how. Just do it.”
He was, as it turned out, absolutely adamant. Nothing she had said after that had made a dent in his intention. It was either get the dirt or lose her job.
She needed her job, probably more than Lee even guessed. She’d left the office fuming. Now here she was on Zach’s ranch with a chip on her shoulder and about as far from the top of her game as she could get.
She watched the barn. Not a sign of life there. The man wasn’t coming back for her and she couldn’t leave. Head down, she trudged forward.
Nadine Campbell, you’ve met your match.
Zach stood in his stable and let the cool, soothing darkness wash the heat of embarrassment from his cheeks. He’d made a fool of himself lunging at Nadine to make her sit for those damned boots.
Smooth, Zach.
His campaign hadn’t started well. He was better than this. Experienced with women. Not awkward and—lunge-y? Damn it, Brandt, you screwed up already.
He should have known she’d bring her own boots. She might be fashionable and perfectly turned out every day, but she was smart. She wouldn’t walk his fields in high heels.
How long would it take her to follow him in? He grinned. On the one hand, she’d pestered him for an interview about his painting, clearly motivated to be here. On the other hand, he knew she was proud. She might drive off in an indignant huff. He wouldn’t blame her. He liked that feisty part of Nadine and wanted to see her riled—anything other than the neutral, blank expression she wore too often since coming home.
He also admired her boundless curiosity, except when she applied it to him. He didn’t want to do this interview. He wasn’t comfortable talking about himself. Never had been.
He wasn’t verbal. His paintings said all there was to say about him.
So why had he given in to her? To get her out on his ranch once more. Zach Brandt, you are so pathetic.
Again, he grinned. Pathetic, yeah, but also smart like a fox. If he had to submit to being interviewed, so be it. He hadn’t pursued her back in high school because he’d known she had ambitions and would leave town for good eventually. For some reason, she’d come back home. She was free. As far as he knew, and he’d asked around, she had no significant other in her life. He was available since his divorce three years ago.
But what would this new adult Nadine think of his ranch? Would she like it any better than she had when she was younger?
There was no point in asking a woman out on a date if she hated what you did for a living.
Where was she?
She had her pride, and he wasn’t going back outside to get her. Her curiosity would get the better of her. Any minute now, she would give in and come to get him.
By the time he’d greeted all of his horses with nose rubs and baby carrots from his shirt pocket, she still hadn’t shown up. She was tougher than he’d thought. Still biding his time, he stepped into the back room that was his studio in the summer months.
Spotless, the room