Courtship In Granite Ridge. Barbara McCauley

herself for such an outrageous thought, a thought that had no possible chance of becoming a reality, Kasey scooped up a bucket of oats and moved down the row of stalls, following behind Slater, watching him feed the horses as she had hundreds of times before at his father’s ranch.

      He’d carefully avoided any discussion of his father last night. They’d talked about jobs they’d had, people they’d both known, who’d gotten married or moved, but if the conversation even came close to mentioning his father, then Slater immediately changed the subject.

      It wasn’t easy to discuss what was happening in Granite Ridge and avoid the name of Jack Slater and the Bar S. The man and the ranch were icons in Granite Ridge and the surrounding counties. He was known as far north as Amarillo and as far south as San Antonio as one of the wealthiest and finest breeders of quarter horses. He was also known as an overbearing, hard businessman who demanded perfection. Which would have also described him as a father.

      “So what do you think of my boarders?” She ran her hand over the chestnut mare’s velvety nose.

      “Nice stock.” He tossed the last fleck of hay into the end stall. “Especially the gray and the chestnut you’re petting. They look young, but they’ve got strong cutting potential. The others are good for riding, except for that little sorrel on the end. She’s a tad high-strung, though nothing a little work and a few sweet words wouldn’t fix.”

      He was right. But that didn’t surprise her. Ten years ago, Slater had been the best horseman around. He could make the most difficult bronc do wheelies, then beg to pull a plow. “I hope to have a full stable by the end of the year. With that income and Miss Lucy as a brood-mare, the Double D will be good as new in no time.”

      “Ah, yes, Miss Lucy.” He stabbed the pitchfork into a bale of hay and grinned. “The blushing bride. When are you expecting her?”

      “Tomorrow.” She tossed a handful of oats to the gray and glanced over her shoulder at Slater. “I wish you could see her.”

      It was an unspoken invitation to stay. They both knew it. Slater’s dark gaze met hers and the awkward silence hovered between them.

      “I have to get going, Kase,” he said finally.

      Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why had she let herself get her hopes up, even for a second? She’d known from the moment she laid eyes on him that he’d had no intention of staying. Ten years may have passed, but nothing had really changed. Not his feelings for Granite Ridge and his father.

      Not his feelings for her. She was still his kid sister’s best friend, nothing more.

      She swung the bucket of oats to the next stall, forcing a lightness to her voice that contradicted the heaviness in her heart. “What about all those juicy tidbits of your life you promised?”

      He gave her a cocky smile. “Yeah, well that should take all of about five minutes.”

      She doubted that. There was a look in his eyes, something in the way he carried himself and the tone of his voice that told her there was much more than he’d ever let on. And last night, even though they’d talked half the night, she still knew nothing significant about the past ten years. Everything he’d told her had been superficial and decidedly vague.

      “I’m going in to town to straighten things out at the newspaper.” She brushed her hands off on her jeans. “We could have breakfast at Callie’s. She still makes the best blueberry waffles in the county.”

      “And the best corn muffins.” His expression was one of reverence, then he slowly shook his head. “It’s better this way, Kase.”

      She couldn’t help the knot of anger tightening in her chest. Mission accomplished. There were no maidens to rescue, so it was “Hasta la vista, baby.”

      “Will you say goodbye to the boys?”

      “I wasn’t just going to drive off,” he said with a frown. “Are they up yet?”

      As if on cue, they came charging into the barn, whooping like wild beasts wearing baseball caps and blue jeans. Cody had a glove and ball, Troy a baseball bat. “Hey, Slater,” Troy called, “wanna hit a few?”

      “Slater has to leave now,” Kasey said, amazed that she was able to keep her voice even. “Come say goodbye and thank him for helping with your chores.”

      Troy bumped into the back of Cody when he stopped suddenly. “Leaving. You mean, like really leaving, not coming back?” Cody asked.

      Kasey started to answer, then thought better of it. He hadn’t made it easy for her ten years ago when he’d left, had he? Why should she make it easy for him now?

      Slater looked at her, then glanced back at the boys and cleared his throat. “I was just stopping by to say hi to your mom,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I’m glad I got to meet you, though.”

      They stared up at him for a long moment, then Troy said, “Where you going?”

      “Uh, Alaska.”

      “Where’s Alaska?” Troy asked.

      “It’s far away,” Cody answered with authority. “And it’s real cold.”

      Kasey smiled knowingly at Slater. He frowned at her, then knelt in front of the boys so he could look them in the eye. “Alaska is a beautiful place. You should go there sometime with your mom.”

      Troy shook his head. “I like it here. It’s not cold, either. We don’t have to stay inside all the time.”

      Confinement had always been difficult for her sons, Kasey thought. They hated being inside, and had disliked the heavy clothing and jackets, as well. “We need to go into town now, boys. Say goodbye to Slater.”

      “’Bye.” There was no enthusiasm in Cody’s voice as he tossed the baseball back and forth between his hand and glove.

      “’Bye.” Troy stepped closer to Cody, dragging the bat on the ground.

      “Take care,” Slater said with a smile, then stood.

      Kasey tried to swallow the lump that had settled in her throat, but it refused to budge. No matter how much she wanted him to stay, she wouldn’t ask, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to cry.

      “It was good to see you, Slate,” she said. “Stop by again sometime in the next millennium. If I’m lucky, I’ll have grandkids.”

      “I’m sorry, Kasey.” He reached out and tugged her into his arms. “I wish it could be different.”

      She leaned against him, breathed in the smell of him, a mixture of man and horse and hay. It would have to last her a long time. Most likely a lifetime.

      “Would you like me to tell your father anything?” She had to try one last time, as a parent, as Slater’s friend.

      “No.” He dropped his arms away. “I’ll give you a call. Drop a postcard.”

      She nodded, but they both knew he wouldn’t. She also knew she didn’t want to watch him drive away again. “I want to be at the newspaper when they open. You’re welcome to use the shower and help yourself to breakfast. There’s muffins and apples on the counter in the kitchen.”

      His smile never reached his eyes. “Take care of yourself, Kase.”

      “I always have, Slate,” she said, then turned and walked away with her sons.

      

      Slater had already showered, stuffed his dirty clothes into his duffel bag and was headed out the back door when the phone rang. He hesitated, knowing she hadn’t cleared her answering machine and it couldn’t pick up any more messages. He also knew how important it was to her to find that stud for Miss Lucy.

      He picked it up on the third ring. “Double D.”