She stuck her tongue out at Jason, who feigned like he was going to wipe his still-unwashed hand on her. She narrowed her eyes and didn’t move. LJ had to stifle a laugh as Jason’s bluff fell short.

Stacia nodded to the people filing into the room. “Let me introduce you around to everybody else who works here.”

LJ shook hands with people for a few minutes, though he’d met most of them here and there around the ranch in the last few days. Now that they were all in the same room, though, it was hard not to notice this was the Hollywood fantasy version of a ranch staff: all women with a smattering of old men. He and Jason were the only males under fifty in the entire place.

LJ hesitated for an extra second, trying to decide where he was supposed to sit, but the room was rowdy enough that nobody noticed. Apparently not everybody was as quiet and uncomfortable with each other as they were with him.

Jason and Stacia elbowed each other back and forth, their horseplay escalating until they knocked one of their plates askew. Bill Lawler winged a dinner roll at his son from his place at the head of the table, nailing him squarely in the temple.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this food,” Bill said, “and for giving my old muscles enough aim that I can still hit my son with it. Amen.”

Jason reached for one of the platters, and Stacia smacked his hand.

“What? Dad already said grace.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“It is?” Jason pulled his hand back, glancing toward the door.

LJ kept his hands in his lap, his peripheral vision raking the rest of the table for clues as to what people in Montana did differently on Sunday, if it wasn’t praying.

“Andra usually shows up on Sundays. We’ll give her another five minutes,” Stacia said.

One of the older cowhands piped up, “Hey, you know what else is special about Sundays, Jason? That’s the pornless day.”

“When you’re as awkward with the ladies as Jason is, no day can afford to be a pornless day,” said Rachel, a forty-something woman in a Coors Light cap whom he’d met yesterday.

Stacia snickered. “Isn’t that God’s own truth . . .”

“Last I checked, Curt—” Jason began, but broke off when his sister came into the room. The laughter died away, too. LJ gave Andra a smile to say hi, but she had her eyes down and didn’t see.

“Hey, guys. You didn’t wait on me, did you?”

“Nah,” Rachel lied, and grabbed a dinner roll. Everybody started passing food, but the room stayed quiet as Andra took a seat.

LJ shifted, his chair creaking under his weight.