When Love Comes Read Free Page B

to resort to that myself.”
    “I call it motivation,” Broc said with an answering chuckle.
    “I’m hungry,” Eddie announced and marched inside.
    Amanda wasn’t surprised that Broc insisted she go in before him, nor was she surprised when he held her mother’s chair and waited for her to be seated before he sat down. Her mother was impressed—enough to begin her usual catechism to determine whether he was worthy of her company.
    “Where are you from?” her mother asked Broc as soon as they’d all been served.
    “Tennessee,” Broc answered. “My family had a farm there.”
    “I’m sure it was more than a farm ,” her mother said.
    “Not much,” Broc replied. “We survived mostly by entertaining on the riverboats.”
    “You’re an actor?” She said the word as though it were an admission to some kind of crime.
    “Not any longer.” Broc’s left hand indicated that side of his face. “I’m nothing more than a cowhand now.”
    Her mother looked undecided whether his current employment improved Broc’s social worth or merely put him in an equally undesirable category.
    “Being an actor must have been exciting.” Amanda had never seen a play.
    “Did your boat blow up?” Eddie asked.
    “My boat never blew up.” Broc’s smile was reminiscent and a little sad. “My friends will tell you I’m never off the stage, that I take any opportunity to make myself the center of attention.”
    That admission didn’t surprise Amanda. Broc had the kind of magnetism that attracted attention. He virtually bubbled with energy and good spirits. She couldn’t imagine how he could be so cheerful after what had happened to his face, but he seemed to have made his peace with it and found a way to be happy. She wondered if that was a lesson he could teach her mother and brother. Their unhappiness with their lives was making them miserable.
    “I don’t know much about riverboats,” her mother said. “When I was growing up, my father would never let us go into town when a riverboat was docked. He said the boats were overrun with gamblers.”
    “How did you end up in Texas?” Amanda asked. “I would have thought you’d want to go back to your home.”
    “My parents sold the farm. I came to Texas to help my friend Cade get his ranch back from squatters.”
    “Did you kill all of them?” Eddie asked, his eyes bright with anticipation.
    “Only a few,” Broc said. “The others ran away.”
    With no prospect of stories about killings or maiming, Eddie turned back to food.
    “Do you want a ranch of your own?” her mother asked.
    “I don’t know,” Broc replied. “It’s a lot easier to work for someone than to be the boss. I have another friend who owns a rancho in California. In addition to the responsibilities of his family and the farm, Rafe has to worry about the well-being of the hundreds of people who work for him and their families.”
    “He must be very rich,” her mother said.
    Amanda could tell Broc was feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. Knowing her mother was poised to ask for details, she asked, “Where is your Texas friend’s ranch? It must have been difficult to return after the war and have to fight to get back his own property.”
    She relaxed while Broc told them about Cade’s struggle to round up and brand cows that had been undisturbed for four years, having to deal with squatters, and enduring the verbal battles between Cade’s grandfather and the woman who was now his grandmother-in-law. Her mother usually managed to find something to disapprove of in every story, but she laughed at some of the things those two old people had said to each other. Amanda was certain Broc had been a successful entertainer. Anyone who could cajole her mother into forgetting her dissatisfaction with life long enough to laugh had to be a genius.
    She wondered if he thought he had to entertain people,or they wouldn’t want to be around him. He mentioned his friends with