An Impostor in Town (Colorado Series) Read Free Page A

parked it where he indicated, then rolled down the window and inhaled crisp, clean air while he pushed the cross bars through the braces. The wind was heavy with the strong scent of snow and horseflesh and earth and hay and manure. It was a sickly-sweet smell, but so familiar. She got out and followed a mushy, muddy path from the gate to the corral. Each step she took made a gushy, squishy sound. She smiled with unbridled pleasure.
    The horses followed them to a dilapidated barn with peeling red paint and a rusty tin roof. Brian rubbed the Paint’s flank. “This is Poncho.” Then he patted the sorrel on his hindquarters. “And this is Chief. Boys, this is Peyton.” The sorrel whinnied on cue. Chief nudged Brian’s shoulder hard. He stroked the horse’s nose with affection. Peyton appreciated the easy way he had with the animal. She had never liked treating a horse like it was just property.
    Down the pasture she could see what looked like construction. “You building a new barn?”
    “A shed. I hadn’t gotten very far with it when the fire broke out. It’s stayed just like that since June.”
    He tipped a bag of sweet feed over the fencing and poured a generous portion of feed into a trough. The cows vocalized their appreciation as they made the slow journey to the corral. Someone, probably Brian, had cracked a hole in a nearby pond to allow the stock to water.
    After a while he stomped through a foot of ice and snow to the unfinished shed and grabbed a hay hook, deftly lifting a bale and hauling it to a manger. She followed him step for step and dropped onto another bale next to unfinished wood studs. The shed was nothing more than two by fours and a roof decking. “Do you plan to build a house out here?”
    His activity stilled. “Someday.”
    “When you retire?”
    “When I get married.” He clipped his answer as if marriage was a touchy subject and cut the baling twine with a pair of pliers to burst the bale.
    Who did he plan to marry? Was this something he was considering? She struggled to gain control of her wayward thoughts and pretended to laugh at his response. “You got anybody in mind?”
    He took a nearby hayfork and began spreading the hay in the manger. “I haven’t found the right woman yet.”
    She had to know how serious he was about Chris Smith, so she pushed the limits of his comfort zone. “I thought maybe you had.”
    “I know about the rumors. We’re just friends. Chris is married to someone, somewhere. Just because she can’t remember him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist. I’d be foolish to get involved with her like that.” He thrust the hayfork into the snow-covered ground in front of the incomplete shed and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about what happened at the cook-off.”
    How had he gone from a sensitive subject for him to a mortifying subject for her—in one breath? “There’s no need to apologize—”
    “I’m not apologizing. It’s just…I know that was embarrassing for you. I don’t intend to make things worse by bringing it up again. But you’re wrong. I do understand. Much better than you think I do.”
    “How could you possibly understand?” The fire rose up her throat, heating her neck with shame.
    He removed his coat and laid it across the corral fence. Rolling up his left sleeve, he removed his wide band watch and exposed his wrist to her. She stared at the scar and then stared at him.
    “You see. I do understand.” A glimmer of understanding radiated from the amber depths of his eyes. “If you ever want to talk—”
    She raised her hand to stop him. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve worked very hard to leave my past in my past. That was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I won’t make it again.” She paused to catch a breath. “This is my business and no one else’s.”
    “I will respect that.” He turned and finished feeding the stock.
    His easy capitulation caught her without a ready comeback. She changed the subject