The Rancher's Legacy. Jessica Keller

lacked.

      Now in front of the chapel, she rested her hand on the doorknob and sucked in a fortifying breath.

      Rhett did not want her friendship—he’d made that crystal clear last night—but coworkers should be civil to each other. An employee could check and see how her boss was doing without it meaning friendship, right?

      Besides, she knew him too well to ignore the fact that he was obviously under a lot of stress. Her heart went out to him. If only she could convince him to share his burdens. He didn’t have to manage everything alone. He wasn’t alone at all.

      She opened the door and let it close with a thump behind her so as not to startle him with her presence. He swiveled around in his seat. His hair was sticking out in adorable angles, reminding her of old times when he’d been a sleepy, hopeful boy swapping secrets with her around the campfire instead of the serious man he’d grown into. An awful twinge of longing stirred through her. She missed the Rhett who had been all dreams and optimism. He had changed once he hit high school, closing up a little more with each football game his father failed to show up to. Each broken promise.

      But his hair wasn’t sleep mussed. The particular style he was sporting at the moment had been caused by him grabbing the tips of his hair and yanking as he thought through something. She’d seen him do it enough times to recognize the signs.

      “I can leave.” He rose and put his hat on. Ever beside him, the large dog stood when he did. “It’s all yours.”

      She held her free hand up in a stop motion. “I came to see you.”

      His left eyebrow arched.

      “Here.” She extended the mug and walked down the aisle. “A peace offering.”

      “What are we making peace for?”

      “Last night at the lake.”

      His large dog edged to sit a few inches in front of the toes of his boots as if the beast was concerned that Macy might try some ninja-attack move on Rhett at any second. As far as Macy could tell, the animal had appointed itself as Rhett’s personal guard.

      As if a man with muscles like Rhett needed one.

      “Is that thing safe?” Macy looked down at the dog.

      He nodded. “She won’t do anything unless I tell her to.”

      She handed Rhett the mug. “Earl Grey Crème black.”

      His features immediately softened and he cocked his head as he accepted the mug. “You remembered my favorite tea?”

      “Your favorite drink,” she corrected. Unlike most of the cowboys and staff at Red Dog Ranch, Rhett had never taken to coffee. After she’d tried the Earl Grey Crème black tea that he preferred, she had to admit it was delicious. It was a perfect balance of milk, sugar, vanilla and bergamot flavors while still delivering a welcome kick of caffeine.

       My dad cared more about those foster kids than he did about his own flesh and blood.

      Regret formed a lump in her throat. She glanced at the light bleeding through the stained glass windows, then glanced back at Rhett. “I’m sorry. Last night when I brought up the foster programs and your dad... I know that still hurts.”

      He blew out a long stream of air, looked away. Nodded to accept her apology.

      A part of Macy wanted to tell Rhett that Brock had loved him and the rest of his family. Maybe Brock had been bad at showing it, but they had been his life. His passion for foster kids had bloomed from his love of family—he’d wanted to give kids without homes the same opportunities and security that his children had been afforded.

      But right now wasn’t the time.

      With Brock gone, it might never be the right time.

      Macy searched for a way to connect with Rhett, anything that could encourage conversation. She needed to establish easy communication between the two of them so they could work alongside each other for the best of the ranch. And if she was being honest, her heart squeezed at the sight of her oldest friend looking so...lost. Despite what he had said last night, she wanted to connect—wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.

      Her gaze landed on his dog. Perfect.

      “So, when did you acquire your ever-present shadow?” She smiled, hoping he could see the words were kindly meant.

      “Kodiak.” The dog perked up when he said her name. It was a good name for her because the dog’s coat was the same red-brown color of a Kodiak bear. Her fur went slightly curly near her neck and back haunches.

      Rhett grinned down at Kodiak and stroked behind her ears. “She was a training failure.” His voice was warm. “Weren’t you, girl?”

      “She looks well trained to me.”

      His smile dimmed when he looked away from Kodiak to meet Macy’s gaze. “What I mean is, her owner brought her to me to be trained and then she bonded to me and refused to go back with her owner.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not generally seen as a good thing.”

      “Well, she seems happy with the arrangement,” Macy said.

      “Her breed is extremely loyal.” Kodiak let out a groan, protesting at the absence of his pets. “So once they pick their person it’s an almost impossible bond to sever.” He relented and tapped his fingertips on her head. “The breed can be hardheaded.”

      “Her breed?”

      “She’s a Chessie.” He must have noticed Macy’s confusion. “Sorry, that’s dogspeak for a Chesapeake Bay retriever. People hear the retriever part and think they’ll be like Labs or goldens, who love everyone and everything, but Chessies aren’t like that. They’re affectionate with their family but are extremely protective and don’t warm to strangers easily.”

      As if to demonstrate what Rhett was talking about, Kodiak butted her head against Rhett’s knee but kept her yellow eyes trained on Macy the whole time. The dog was definitely suspicious of her.

      Macy inched back a half step. “Does that happen a lot? Training failure?”

      “Thankfully, she was my only one. But her owner was my first client when I started the business so failing on the first one...” He rubbed his chin. “Well, let’s just say that was like a bull kick to the ego. I almost thought about turning tail and coming home.” He cleared his throat. “Back here, I mean.”

      She’d never known he considered returning to Red Dog Ranch.

      “Rhett, that last time we saw each other...” Macy said.

       When I kissed you.

      Rhett held up a hand. “We’re different people than we were three years ago, Mace. I don’t see the point of backtracking down that road.”

      When her boyfriend had broken up with her, she’d driven the hundred miles. She’d shown up on Rhett’s doorstep. He had thought she was there about the job he’d offered her, but she had grabbed his shirt and yanked him into a kiss. She would never be able to forget how his body had gone rigid. He hadn’t returned the kiss and, when she broke away quickly, his eyes had been wide, horrified. “Why did you do that?” he’d asked. Repeated it twice.

      And she had turned around and run back to her car. Too mortified to face him for months afterward. It had been the action of a woman who had read a man wrong.

      So completely wrong.

      Rhett had never cared for her. Not like that.

      Not like she’d wanted him to.

      Macy rubbed her thumb over the jagged scar on her pointer finger. “Why didn’t you come back home? After Kodiak, I mean?”

      He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “There was nothing to come back to.”

       I’m