The Cowboy Who Got Away. Nancy Robards Thompson
buyer? Because it doesn’t seem like Smooches has your best interests at heart.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she should advise you not to let them undercut you with bogus claims.”
He was smiling at her like she was adorable. And then he laughed. “I’m aware of their bogus claims. Afton is an old friend. She knows, too. She also understands that I’m on the fence about selling the property. I wasn’t actively looking for a buyer. But she brought me the offer.”
“But she knows you well enough to know you own the property. Is she an old girlfriend?”
“You are jealous.”
Juliette handed him his phone. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“You didn’t look at the attachment.”
Juliette shook her head. “I’ll let you do the honors of opening it. Especially since you haven’t looked at it yet. That has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with self-preservation. Who knows what other surprises Smooches might have in store for you.”
His gaze flickered to hers. For a split second he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He honed in on his phone. “The offer is from an outfit called the MAG Holdings Limited Partnership. Never heard of them. Have you?”
Juliette shook her head. “Do an internet search and see what you can find out.”
“It says here that MAG Holdings is the parent company for Metro Arrow Homes.”
That didn’t sound very good. “Jude, they build houses. Like those cookie-cutter shoeboxes that all look alike. If they want to put a subdivision in here, they can’t. It’s not zoned for single-family housing.
“They must have something up their sleeve,” Juliette said. “Because I doubt that they’d be willing to fork over a lot of money to turn the property into a nature preserve. It’s a nice idea, but I don’t think so.”
His brows knit together as he read the information that was on the screen. “This isn’t okay. In fact, it’s not going to happen.”
He shook his head as he continued to read. “No, this is no good at all. Besides, with the way they’re trying to undercut the asking price...I think this deal is off.”
Both of them were silent, watching a couple of sandhill cranes fly in and land in the lake’s shallow water near the shore.
“I think that’s smart,” Juliette said. “Judging by what they’re trying to pull with the lake and the slab, it sounds like they aren’t very honest.”
“Yeah, there are few things I hate more than wheeler dealers,” Jude said.
“Of course,” Juliette said.
They walked in silence back the way they came. Juliette focused on the unchanged beauty of the place and tried not to wonder whether or not he’d ask Afton to look for another buyer. The lush green grass, the smattering of trees, the big live oak on the other side of the cabin, where they used to seek shade on hot summer days. It was like reuniting with an old friend or time traveling. If she squinted her eyes and blocked out everything else—especially the voices in her head—she was transported back to a much simpler time, when she and Jude were in love and their only worry had been not attracting the sheriff when they lit a bonfire on a cold fall night.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked out of the blue, breaking the silence.
The non sequitur made her breath catch. Really, the question shouldn’t have been so surprising. It was an obvious question that old friends would ask each other. Although, they might start with the less important and build up to this. But, hey, leave it to Jude to take the leap.
“Who wants to know?” She raised her brows at him, trying to lighten the mood.
“I want to know, Jules.”
“In this moment, I’m seeing you,” she said, “walking next to me. That’s all that matters.”
He nodded. “Then I’ll take that as a no, that you’re not otherwise involved with anyone.”
She put her hands on her hips. “What about you? Do you have someone special or is it just the Saturday night special...an endless line of Aftons?”
Okay, that was corny. She was trying to be funny, but obviously funny wasn’t her thing.
“No, there’s no one special in my life right now. And for the record, I don’t have time for Saturday night specials, as you put it. What does that even mean?”
Juliette shrugged. “Random women. You know, a different Afton every Saturday night.”
“Most Saturday nights I’m at a competition and by the time I’m done—after I’ve been tossed around, thrown and sometimes kicked or stepped on—this body is not always in the mood for a Saturday night special.”
Juliette smiled. “That’s good to know. I mean, it’s not good that you get thrown and stepped on.” She grimaced. “You know that’s why I always had a hard time watching you compete. I couldn’t stand to see you get hurt. You know, come to think of it, you never answered my question. What are you doing back in Celebration when there’s still a month left on the tour? I know you said you were home to check out the property, but that doesn’t take two weeks. In two weeks it will be time for the world championship. What’s going on, Jude?”
He stiffened and crossed his arms over his chest. Defensive body language. But Juliette was determined not to speak first, because if she did it might give him an out—he might latch onto it and change the subject.
His gaze met hers. She raised her brows.
“I ran into some trouble. I got thrown a little too hard in a couple of matches and I had to sit out the next ones.”
“Oh, no. Are you okay?”
Jude tore his gaze away from hers. He kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot, as if giving himself more time to form his words.
“I suffered a couple of concussions. I couldn’t ride because of it. Now I don’t have enough points to qualify for the world championship.” He cursed under his breath. “How about that? I’m the reigning world champion and I won’t even be able to defend my title.”
He laughed, but it was a dry and brittle sound.
She resisted the urge to hug him. “Jude, I’m proud of you for doing the right thing. Your health—your well-being—is so much more important than a competition.”
His face fell. “It’s my livelihood, Jules. It’s not just a competition. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at. It’s who I am.”
“I get it, Jude. But if the doctor is telling you it’s not a good idea for you to take the risk and ride, if you go against doctor’s orders to do it, the repercussions could be...”
She shuddered. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word—deadly. Even the thought of it made her heart hurt.
Jude shrugged. The look on his face said he didn’t agree. They’d had this conversation about the risk of him getting hurt so many times when they were in high school—or at least variations of it.
Having been away from him all these years, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about the reality of what he was doing every day, how he earned his living. The risk he faced every day. Sure, she’d kept up with him. She’d been happy to read about the results of his competitions. The internet was a beautiful thing in that regard. She loved seeing that he was doing well, seeing his steady climb to the top of his game. But reading the CliffsNotes also meant that she didn’t have to see him get thrown and come within centimeters of getting stomped.
They’d always been at odds over this—for as far back as she could remember. And nothing had changed. It was best to change