Last Chance Cowboy. Leigh Riker

He glanced toward the street. “Why give people something more to talk about?”

      “I’m not the one who caused that—after what you did—”

      “What your brother did.”

      She lowered her voice. “Because of you, my brother will never have a ranch or anything else to lose.” She blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She hadn’t cried since she was seventeen—ten years ago. She wouldn’t cry now, but her voice trembled. “Jared doesn’t have a life. There’s nothing you could say, nothing you could do, to fix that. To bring him back,” she added.

      People were openly staring now. In one way, she and Grey were alike, the stars of Barren’s own reality show. Their waitress came to take their orders, but Grey waved her off. “Give us a minute. Thanks.” His voice stayed quiet, too, but his eyes were intense. He waited until they were alone again. “I didn’t...kill him, Shadow. You either believe me or you don’t, which you obviously still don’t.”

      “Neither does anyone else in this town.”

      Grey said, “If I had any way to prove myself to them, to you, I would.” He paused, watching her with those sharp blue-green eyes. “Come on,” he said. “You and I were a couple once. We even picked out baby names. I still remember your favorite.”

      Shadow felt herself turn pale.

      “Why did you come in here today, anyway?” Grey asked. “I doubt it was to have lunch with me.”

      “I—” She couldn’t find the words. Shadow caught the pointed gaze of a woman in the booth across the aisle who’d been trying to control her two young children, then had given up to focus on Shadow and Grey. “I have something to tell you. It’s—important.” Life-changing, really, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come.

      “Fine. Let’s take this outside.”

      Yet, how would she phrase what she had to tell him after all these years? She hadn’t thought this through carefully enough, and Grey was already hurting, worried about the fate of his ranch. In a show of compassion she wouldn’t have considered last night, Shadow decided she couldn’t blindside him after he’d already suffered such a blow today.

      “I really can’t stay. I have appointments this afternoon, and if I don’t start now I’ll be late. I’ll be in my office all day tomorrow.” By then, she’d know exactly what to say. “Come see me anytime.”

      “Shadow—”

      She was already sliding toward the end of the booth when Grey said, “You’re...okay, aren’t you? Not sick or anything?”

      “No, not sick,” she said, standing to block the woman’s view from the opposite booth.

      “I’ll be there. Tomorrow.” Grey held up a hand. “Before you run off, I heard from Logan the other day. Did you get a call from Blossom?”

      At the mention of their mutual friends, who’d recently become engaged, she turned back. “No, why? Is something wrong?”

      Grey’s gaze held hers. “She’s going to ask you to be her maid of honor.”

      Shadow blinked. The change of topic had taken her by surprise and was almost welcome. “Really. I’ve never been in a wedding before.”

      He eyed her through those dark lashes, taking his time before he said, “You’d look real nice in a long white gown.”

      She swallowed. This hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, and neither would trying to talk about something else. “White is for the bride. More likely, I’d have to wear a dress I wouldn’t wear to my own funeral.”

      The last word hung in the air like a fresh reminder of everything that stood between them—a fresh reminder of Jared.

      “Blossom has better taste than that,” Grey said, and Shadow winced. She’d only heard secondhand about bridesmaids’ dresses.

      “I shouldn’t have said that. Blossom has every right to be happy without my mood spoiling things. She should pick somebody else.”

      “I’ll leave you two to settle that,” Grey said. “Fair warning, though—Logan’s already asked me to be his best man.” He held her gaze for another long moment, then added, “Which I am.”

      * * *

      MOST PEOPLE SAID he had too much pride, and it was never easy for Grey to lose at anything. Especially with Shadow. Seeing her hadn’t helped. That spill of jet-black hair, her dark brown eyes and chiseled cheekbones... He’d felt like the love-struck boy he’d been before everything fell apart. After her brother died, he’d come close to begging her to believe in him. But then, Grey had hesitated when he said, I didn’t...kill him. He had his doubts about Jared’s death. About himself.

      And today his luck wasn’t running very high. If he’d tried for more of their conversation in town, they might well have ended up in a nasty argument. Still wondering what she might say tomorrow, he drove home and down to the barn to find his new cowhand waiting for him, shifting his weight from one boot to the other in obvious impatience. Which came as no surprise.

      “Glad I caught you. I was just headin’ into town myself.” Somewhere in his mid-twenties, Cody Jones had a shock of wheat-colored hair, close cut on the sides but longer on top. He still looked like a kid to Grey, who’d turned thirty this year, but Cody stood inches taller than Grey did, even at six feet. He had to look up into Cody’s merry dark eyes, which never set well with Grey, who was now the sole person of authority at Wilson Cattle. “Thought I’d get my pay first.”

      “Sorry, you’ll have to wait.” After his morning appointment at the bank, he was sure about that. “We sold off those cattle last week, but the check hasn’t cleared.” He wouldn’t mention the loan.

      “Man, I thought trying to make a living on the circuit was tough. Five seasons as a bronc rider before I quit to hire on here, but winnin’ prize money was way easier than this.”

      “And how much did you win?”

      Cody flashed a grin. “Not enough.”

      “You know any riders who are earning good money?”

      “Just the top guys, and they really rake it in. Private planes and all.”

      “There you go. Most don’t ever reach that level. Being a top rodeo cowboy’s not that easy, either—it’s like winning the lottery.”

      Grey had tried rodeo, too, for a couple of years after college, so he could empathize with Cody. Still, Grey viewed him almost as the younger brother he’d never had. He’d given him advice before, taught him quite a bit already and wanted to believe that Cody would, sooner or later, be of real value to Wilson Cattle. Which reminded him to ask, “You feed the horses this morning?”

      Cody had “forgotten” twice last week. He had a tendency to focus on himself instead of his work. Grey toyed with the idea of docking his pay for the double oversight, then discarded it. He lived up to his obligations.

      Too bad he couldn’t take that to the bank.

      Before seeing Shadow, he’d made a quick stop at the local tack store to order a new saddle and buy some lesser supplies, but he’d come out empty-handed. His credit had been declined. Grey had been having a hard time paying the bills lately, which only compounded his growing sense of failure. A best man. Was he, really? If only he could find some way to prove to her, to everyone else—maybe most of all, to himself—that he was innocent in the death of Jared Moran. But what if he discovered just the opposite?

      Cody’s grin had stuck to his face. “Guess I can wait to go into town. Maybe on Saturday night I’ll find a nice little buckle bunny to dance with. To be honest, that’s what I miss most about the rodeo circuit.”

      “Good luck finding one in Barren.” Grey noticed that halfway down the barn aisle, Cody had left a wheelbarrow full of steaming manure. The