Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders #15)(4)

“Then she shouldn’t have given me false hope.”


“Then you shouldn’t have turned tail and run again,” Sierra retorted. “Especially after you gave her false hope that things might finally change between you two.”


Like he needed that reminder. “Does she know about Casper?”


“Doubtful. She’s been out of town and she stays out of McKay gossip completely.”


Then Rory wouldn’t suspect Dalton was on his way back to Sundance. The element of surprise might work in his favor. “What’s the best way to approach her?”


“She bartends at the Twin Pines on the side. She’s working tonight. Anything else I can do for you besides making your day with this news?” Sierra asked sweetly.


Making his day? Hell, she’d made his life, because now he had a shot at getting the life he wanted. “Where are the keys for the house in town?”


A pause. Then, “Why?”


“I need a place to stay.”


Sierra heaved a put-upon sigh. “They’re under the back deck on a key hook. But there are two conditions before I’ll let you stay there. First, you don’t tell anyone I own it. No one.”


“Deal. And FYI, that’s why we have a silent partnership.” He’d supplied Sierra with some capital to start her own business last year and he also wanted it kept on the down low. “What’s the second condition?”


“I need a handyman to do some things. Okay, a lot of things. You’re handy, you’re there and voila—you’re selected. I’ll FedEx my repair list today but anything else you see that needs fixed just go ahead.”


“I’ll do it but I want to be reimbursed once a week for whatever I buy. You don’t get to pull that sixty day wait for payment bull crap like you money people usually do.”


She laughed. “That’s how we become money people. We hold on to money as long as possible. Be warned, some of what needs done will be major costs.”


“I ain’t a carpet installer,” he warned. “Nor will I put in windows.”


Sierra sighed again. “You are a handy handyman, right?”


“Guess you’ll have to trust me, huh?”


“I’ll be keeping tabs on you.” Another pause. “I’m sorry about your dad. If you need to talk about anything—except for Rory—call me.”


By the time Dalton crossed into Crook County hours later, he had a plan in place.


Patience. Perseverance. He would not blow this chance.


Rory Wetzler was his. His. She always had been, she always would be.


And he’d do whatever it took to prove it.


Chapter Two


“Rory, can I get two Bud Light drafts and a cherry Coke?”


“Coming right up.” She pulled the tap and dumped cherry juice over ice, aiming a stream of cola at the glass and swapping the full beer mug for an empty one. She lined the order on the bar top, then wandered to help a new customer.


Ten minutes later, she poured herself a Coke and leaned against the counter. Old man Duffy grinned at her.


“You’re scaring me, Duff. What’s that look for?”


“Missed you last week. Where were you?”


“At a two-day conference in Rock Springs.”


“Huh. I thought you mighta bailed on us. Can’t for the life of me understand why you’re still slinging drinks at the Twin Pines.”


“My job with the state is part-time. So while I’m waiting for a fulltime position to open up or a decent job in my field to magically become available, I’m working here to make ends meet.” Rory chomped on a piece of ice.


“It’s a waste. A gorgeous blonde amazon woman like you oughta be home every night, bein’ spoiled rotten by a man who appreciates and worships you.”


She laughed. “Now there’s a fantasy.”


“If I was fifty years younger…”


“I’d take you up on it.” And she would, no lie. Her love life—for lack of a better term—was a joke. She’d had one date in the last six months since she’d returned to Sundance. A pity date from the plumber who installed a new toilet at the Wyoming Natural Resources Council office where she worked.


She’d jumped out of the dating pool for almost a year when she’d been with Dillon. While she had no regrets about breaking off their engagement, she was lonely. She missed the companionship, even when that companionship was what had driven her away.



Rory kept telling herself that it was better to be dateless and alone than married to the wrong man. Some days it empowered her. Other days it depressed her.


Her love life wasn’t the only source of melancholy. Twenty-eight years old, with a bachelor’s and a master’s degree, and she was still slinging drinks for tips. She was still living in the same small hometown in the same small cabin she’d grown up in.


The more things changed the more they stayed the same.


But she’d had a full, exciting life in college, which made it worse, living in Dullsville, USA again. She’d joined several exchange programs during grad school, which had added almost two years to the time it took to earn her degree. But it’d been worth it, seeing the world outside of Wyoming. She’d spent half a year in South America studying tropical land conservation practices. She’d lived on a large cattle ranch on the big island of Hawaii. She’d mapped wildlife habitats and migration patterns in Alaska and Canada.