Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,54
us did and we say as much. “I’ll just have to ride with you, Tara.” He hobbles over to Oatmeal like a ninety-year-old man with arthritis and a club foot.
“Are you hurt?” I ask. “Maybe we should postpone the interview.” God, I hope he takes the hint. I’m offering a lifeline that would allow for a total do-over and a chance to rectify our shambles of a performance.
“Nonsense.” James doesn’t take the bait. “I’m fit as a fiddle.” Now he sounds like the afore-mentioned ninety-year-old man.
I feel like crying by the time he gets on behind me. Rachel rides right next to us and asks him, “Do you normally ride a different horse?”
“I normally don’t ride here,” he answers easily. “Not since I was a kid anyway.”
Rachel’s eyes are dissecting me, but I don’t turn to meet her gaze. Instead I say, “I thought you rode Thunder the last time we were out together.” My voice does this nice little warble that makes me sound like a twelve-year-old boy.
James seems to catch on this time. “Oh yeah, I did. But not since.”
“Tara said you’ve ridden several times together.” I told her a few times, not several! This is what reporters do, they dig for inconsistencies like a dog with a meaty bone and then throw them in your face.
James is clearly out of his element with duplicity of this scale because he answers, “Well, yeah, sure. I mean, I haven’t ridden Thunder since those several times Tara and I took him out.” As far as lying goes, I’m quickly learning it isn’t one of his talents, and though it doesn’t help our current goals, I’m still kind of happy about this. How in the world did I think he could pull this off?
I decide to change the subject. “You should tell Rachel about your farm.”
“Do you want to know about my farm?” he asks the reporter.
“I guess.” She doesn’t sound in the least interested, but I need a break from wondering where the next punch is going to land.
“I bought it from an older couple. The place had been in the husband’s family for a hundred years. They wanted to pass it down to their kids, but none of their kids wanted it.”
“That’s sad,” Rachel offers.
“Farming is a hard life. I suspect they remembered that from when they grew up here.”
“Yet you’re a farmer. Why is that?”
“I like to think that we all signed up for certain things in this life before we were born. From the time I was little, I knew farming was my destiny. Also, you know, they were ranchers on the Ponderosa.”
“The Ponderosa?” Rachel asks.
“Bonanza,” he tells her enthusiastically.
“Ah, yes. I’ll have to check that out some time,” she says, obviously lying, as she pulls out her phone and starts to record. “James, tell me how you and Tara met.” Finally, a question he knows the answer to.
I eagerly await our scripted answer. I queue it up in my brain so I can mentally recite it along with him.
But James seems to be struck dumb as though he’s forgotten what he’s supposed to say. He finally opens his mouth, and just as I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief, he announces, “We met at a bar.”
Holy hell. What is he doing now?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ruby
Ruby walks through the dining room, as per her usual morning routine of asking her guests how they’re doing. When she passes Syd Byerly’s table, she almost keeps going, but he calls out to her, “Mrs. Cavanaugh, good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Byerly,” she returns his greeting with little enthusiasm. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”
“I am, thank you. I understand from my waitress that your pastry chef is nothing like you described her to be.”
“How so?” Ruby silently chastises herself for thinking he’d take her word for it.
“I heard she was tall, thin, and quite beautiful, just like the Tara I’m looking for. I’m definitely going to stick around long enough to see her now.”
“You do whatever you need to do,” Ruby tells him. “Although I have no idea what business you could possibly have with her.”
“It’s private,” he states mysteriously.
“Are you trying to lure her out of my employment?” Ruby demands.
“Why would I tell you if I was?” He’s laughing at her.
“Mr. Byerly, I hope you have other lodgings because according to your reservation, today is your last day here.”
“Surely, I can extend my stay.”
“Unfortunately for you, we’re a very popular destination. I’m afraid we’re booked solid.”