But this wasn’t an ultimatum; it was a trap. If he kept working on the ranch, Bill would fire him either for getting too close to Andra or for the first tiny mistake he made. And if he chose her and quit, he’d have to go so far away he couldn’t afford to travel back to see her.

“I understand,” LJ said. And he did. He grabbed his hat and left the office with his head high and straight.

He understood that nothing he said and nothing he did would change what the man behind that desk thought of him. And it made him want to burn the entire world down, with himself howling in the center of all of it.

Twelve

Andra pulled her feet up onto the narrow bench in the dressing room and hugged her knees to her chest. She glared at the clothes crowding the hooks on the wall and falling onto the floor of the tiny department-store cubicle. This was ridiculous.

No, riffling through her own closet this morning had been ridiculous. She’d never noticed before that every shirt she owned had either a horse printed on it or a horse-related stain somewhere. Or both. Mostly both.

The sun hadn’t even risen when she realized she couldn’t stand to wear a single thing she owned. Had she always looked this sloppy? She used to have a whole section of her closet for fun and flattering non-work-related clothes. Now she had a single dress, which she pretty much only wore for funerals.

Grabbing her keys, she’d texted her dad that she was taking the day off and headed for her truck. She was in the mood to feel pretty, damn it, and how could she do that while wearing a shirt marked with green horse slobber?

This morning, it’d made sense. Now she was staring at a lot of shirts in styles that hadn’t even existed the last time she went shopping, while her mind chased its own tail in a dozen different circles.

She yanked out her phone, but her list of frequently called numbers was painfully short. She wasn’t talking to her dad or brother about this, no way, and Stacia would think she was insane. All the other numbers were for ranch employees, and for once, her problem had nothing to do with a horse.

She chose a name, hit “Call,” and squeezed her eyes shut.

“’Lo?” LJ answered, managing to make the single syllable sound warm as the southern sun.

“I need you to do that thing where you make everything seem simple.”

He laughed. Was it a little strained, or was that her projecting her own mood? “Ah, I don’t know if I’m so good at that today.”

She hesitated. “Is everything okay?”