Resonance of Stars (Greenstone Security #5) - Anne Malcom Page 0,32

his ear. Then, the rest of the morning, the men studiously made sure not to stare too long or act like I was a famous actress.

Nor did Andrew or Anna. They didn’t treat me like they were trying to impress me. Or get something from me. They treated me like I was Duke’s woman. With respect. I did know they were somewhat surprised that I could ride, and could do it well. They were impressed.

I liked that, being able to keep up with real-life ranchers.

I was only able to do so because it was a real-life rancher that trained me how to ride. That was after various arguments with my agent, my director, and head of the studio, who did not want the liability of their lead actress falling off a horse and suing them.

As I was known to do, I threw a hissy fit and got my way.

Which I regretted after my first lesson with my rancher. He was an old man with a hell of a moustache and an attitude to match. He made it clear he was only there for the paycheck, and the added bonus of watching me fail. He trained me hard, without sympathy, and with a healthy dose of dislike.

It was the only way a woman like me could be trained, to prove a man wrong.

And I did—after breaking my wrist, dislocating my shoulder, and putting the movie behind by three months. The studio would’ve been pissed off, had the movie not done so freaking well, with the publicity of my fall only helping the movie earn top spot at the box office.

I still sent Kyle—my trainer—an email here and there. Sometimes he returned them, other times not.

That I’d earned the accolades for my horsemanship seemed like an important thing at the time. But this, out here under the country sky, breathing in the dirt, and herding cattle with men that were real men—that meant more.

A lot more.

I would’ve stayed out for much longer, despite the ache in my thighs and my protesting ass, but Tanner decided to bring me back.

“Before Duke skins me alive for stealing away his woman,” he said with a grin.

I did my best to grin back and not tell him his brother would most likely thank him. Instead I asked him a question. “Why aren’t you married?”

He looked sufficiently taken aback. And I should’ve stopped there. It wasn’t my place to ask and I never usually wanted to know such details about people. I did small talk for appearances only. But I wanted to know this. The past of this man, the empty ring finger, the reason behind the hardness in his eyes when he looked at his brother.

“I mean, you’re a nice guy,” I continued, unable to stop myself. “Easy on the eyes. Got a good family. That counts for a lot most places, except Hollywood of course, where your family only matters if they own a studio or an island in the Caribbean,” I said. “But here, in the country, I’m thinking there is a shortage of men, and women aren’t stupid—if your mother and grandmother are anything to go by. Smart women usually find good men. Hold on to them.”

My stomach lurched ever so slightly when I said that. I considered myself a smart woman. I’d found a good man, despite the way he spoke to me. I wanted to hold on to him. But there was no way for a woman like me to even find a grip.

Tanner chuckled, but the sound was forced, his eyes faraway. “Ah, good men are much easier to stay with, I think. Or they don’t let good women get away. Either way, I don’t think I’m a good man, since I let a good woman get away.”

I waited for more, interested in the sadness and loss in his voice. We rode in silence for a few beats.

“You can’t just leave me hanging like that,” I snapped. “I’m an actress. I need an ending.”

He glanced at me. “Ah, if there’s an ending you want, I’ve got that. Although I don’t think it’s all as exciting as what you’re used to. Wish it was, if I was honest. But life isn’t all that exciting.” He paused for a long moment, looking out ahead of him. We were coming up on the ranch and I wanted to slow down so we could continue talking. “She was my high school sweetheart, cliché I know, but when you know, you know.” He shrugged. “I