Home on the Ranch: Colorado. Julie Benson

with the jeans. He’d never liked the blasted things no matter how much he wore them, and they still made him feel like a sissy.

      He hadn’t walked a block when his cell phone rang.

      “Thought I’d let you know we signed the papers for Jameson to buy Star’s foal.”

      Good. That would help the ranch’s cash flow. “Don’t let him pick up the foal until you’ve got confirmation the money’s been transferred into our accounts.”

      “Got it.”

      “You’re doing a good job, little brother.”

      Had he made it too easy for his siblings, always stepping in to take care of things when the situation got the slightest bit tough? Rory had thought he was helping. Being the oldest, he’d learn everything the hard way. He hadn’t wanted his younger siblings to go the same route.

      “I don’t know how you do it. Managing this place is sure cramping my style. I was so damned tired last night I fell asleep at ten o’clock.”

      Rory laughed. “Not so easy to be the life of the party when you’ve got to get up at dawn.”

      “How are things going on your end?”

      “It’s been a long week.” Rory rubbed his stiff neck.

      “So modeling’s not all bright lights and pretty girls?”

      “It’s hard work. I’m already tired of people telling me what to do.”

      Griff chuckled. “Getting a chance to see how the other half lives, huh?”

      “Can’t say I like it a whole lot.” Rory stopped at the corner of Broadway and Forty-ninth and waited for the light to change. He’d learned early on that these New York City drivers would just as soon run someone over as stop to avoid him. “You heard from Mom? I called last night, but she was asleep. Avery says she’s holding her own, but the treatment’s tough on her.”

      “Avery said it’s worse than chemo.”

      As long as the treatment didn’t kill her, but killed the cancer.

      “Keep me posted.”

      He ended the call. People rushed past him. Everyone here lived in such a hurry. No wonder Elizabeth fit right in. The woman was a whirlwind. Would she act like that in everything she did—that is, if she ever loosened up? If she focused that energy on a man, she could burn him to cinders in the bed. Rory smiled. What a way to go.

      Someone bumped into him, mumbled a quick apology and scooted off. This walk wasn’t accomplishing what he’d hoped. Instead of releasing his pent-up energy, being out on the streets had spiked his blood pressure.

      He missed the quiet at home. When he hiked in the mountains, he could think. The solitude cleared his head. Whenever he took a walk here, he returned to the hotel with a headache.

      He’d hoped the streets might be quiet this early in the morning, but no such luck. Neon lights flashed. Horns honked constantly. People hurried by. He glanced upward, hoping a glimpse of the sky would calm his nerves. Instead, the Times Square billboard caught his gaze. He froze.

      No. It couldn’t be.

      Lizzie never mentioned anything about a billboard. He stared. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny the reality slapping him in the face.