Life After Wife (Three Magic Words Trilogy, #3)(9)



She glared at him.

He shrugged as if her dirty looks weren’t even as important as a gnat buzzing around his ears. “I’m going out on a limb here and being nice. It’s not easy and it’s not part of my personality, so don’t expect it again. What do you want done with what I’m taking out of here?”

“That’s not nice. That’s business,” she protested.

“Yes, it is nice. Is anything out here your personal property, or is it ours jointly because it belongs to the estate? Tell me or the movers will put it in the truck and take it to the nearest shelter for the homeless.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“They’re not my personal things, but I don’t want them given away. Store them in the bunkhouse for now,” she said.

“You heard the lady. Put them on the truck and take them around back and down the lane. You’ll see a long, skinny house back there. I left the door open when I checked it out a few minutes ago. Just stack them up anyway you can, and she can have the hired help do whatever she wants with them,” he said.

She continued to glare at him. Why did someone that handsome have to be such a pain? If he chopped off the little sissy ponytail and had his hair cut in a feathered-back style, he’d be close to movie-star good-looking. The cameras would love those high cheekbones and that chiseled face. He could use a little more in the lip area, but the slight cleft in his chin and those blue eyes made up for the thin, firm, no-nonsense mouth.

“Might as well stop giving me your meanest looks. I’ve been hated by professionals, lady, and you are just an amateur. I don’t care if you like me. I don’t care if you hate me. We’ll have to work together until this is settled. All the rest is small stuff, and I don’t sweat the small stuff,” he said.

From behind his dark sunglasses, he scanned Sophie in her tight jean shorts and bright green, stretchy tank top without her knowing it. She’d grown up to be a beauty, no doubt about that. She’d been a skinny kid that reminded him of a newborn colt trying to grow into a set of long legs. Well, she’d done the job very well. Her unruly curly hair begged a man to tangle his hands into it, her lips were made for kissing, her legs reached halfway to heaven, and her gray eyes saw straight into his soul. How on earth that man she was married to could cheat on something that gorgeous had to be a total mystery. He had to be an idiot, but Aunt Maud said he was a well-respected preacher. It only went to prove again that you can’t judge a book by its cover or a man by his lies.

She sighed when he didn’t say anything else. “It’s a necessary evil, but I don’t have to like it.”

“No one said either of us had to like it. You want to empty those drawers before they load that dresser?” He tossed her a box he no longer needed.

“No, I don’t but I will,” she mumbled.

What she found barely filled half the box. All the drawers were empty except one, and it held a few dresser scarves and hand-crocheted doilies. Maud might have used them when she and Jesse first took up housekeeping, but in the years Sophie had known her there hadn’t been any “foo-rah,” as Maud called it, in the house. Her tables held basic items: lamps, ashtrayst from when Jesse was alive, candy dishes that were always full, coasters, and magazines.

“It’s ready to go,” Sophie said when she finished.

“The guys in the bunkhouse going to mind all this extra stuff?” Elijah asked.

“There are no guys in the bunkhouse. We hired on extra help for the summer, but they come and go every day. No one lives in the bunkhouse anymore.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “Foreman?”

She shook her head. “Aunt Maud and I managed it on our own. Better equipment these days than when Uncle Jesse was alive. The ranch has moved into technology. We keep things on the computers, back them up on flash drives at the end of each week, and only hire outside help for seasonal work. We’ll need extra in three weeks for the cattle sale. Why? You want to change your mind? You don’t get to boss around a whole bunkhouse full of men. We had six that came every day during the summer months. Three of those are back in high school. Two went back to college.”

“Gus?”

“He’s the full time, but he got married last year.”

Elijah stammered. “But he’s got to be sixty years old. No, he’s older than that, isn’t he?”

“So does that mean he can’t fall in love?”

“My hero has bitten the dust,” Elijah said.

“Is that a whine I hear coming from the big, old he-man?” Sophie asked.

“It could be, but it’ll only last a minute. Who’d he marry?”

“Lady over in Clyde. She’s a retired schoolteacher. Never married. No kids, of course. Thinks Gus hung the moon.”

Elijah mopped sweat from his forehead and shoved the red bandanna back into his hip pocket. “He did at one time. I’m not so sure anymore since he let a woman brand him. But at least he still comes to work every morning, right?”

“He was at the funeral with his wife. Didn’t you see him? Her name is Alma Grace.”

“Guess I didn’t. But I will tomorrow. We’ll wait until then to talk business. Do you want these men to take Aunt Maud’s things out of her room and store them in the bunkhouse?”

“I. Do. Not! I want to keep her spirit in there a while longer,” Sophie smarted off at him.

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