How are things coming out there on the shop?”
“Wow, you must like him.”
It was a lot to ask for people not to put one and one together. Josey knew this. That didn’t make dealing with it any easier. She pushed her anxiety further down, desperately trying to ignore it entirely. She’d worked too hard to make her place in this tribe to let something like a casual relationship with Ben Bolton derail her plans.
Normal, she reminded herself, keeping her tone light. “He’s nice. Did you get my message about the certification?”
Jenny whistled and poured the paint. “Three subject changes. I amend my previous statement to ‘really like.’”
“Okay, I really like him. Happy?”
Jenny stuck her hands on her hips, tilted her head sideways and stared at her. “You look happy.” Josey rolled her eyes, but Jenny didn’t let it drop. “You do! I mean, I’d kill for your bone structure, but you always look like you’re having to work at a smile. It’s like you’ve got to prove to people that you’re thrilled to be here in the middle of nowhere. But today?” Jenny gave her a wistful smile. “Happy.”
And that’s why Josey loved her cousin. Despite the fact that Jenny was full-blooded Lakota, she was one of the few people on this reservation who never held her mixed heritage against Josey. She always understood.
For the first time since Josey had driven back onto the rez this morning, she felt herself breathe. Not everyone would approve. Not everyone had to. If Jenny and Mom still treated her like the same old Josey-from-the-block, then it didn’t much matter what the whole tribe thought. “He gave me the keys—well, the key codes—to his place.”
Jenny whistled. “How many nights?”
“Two.”
“And he’s coming out here tomorrow?”
“Dinner at Mom’s. Just as soon as I tell Mom.” That part made her a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. Although she didn’t talk about it too much, Josey was pretty sure that Mom had had her heart broken by a white man back in the day, which was why she’d come back to the rez and married Dad. Josey’s last heartbreak had been hard on both of them. She didn’t know if Mom would react well to Josey giving another white man a chance to break her heart again.
They fell into an easy silence as they painted the classroom. Jenny did the cutting in while Josey started on the ceiling. The work went much faster than it did when the tasks were divided between ten helpful girls. The whole thing was done in less than an hour.
Jenny dropped her brush on the drop cloth and clenched her hands a few times. “Is he perfect?”
Josey thought about his overwhelming need to be in charge, the conflicted feelings he had about his family and—if left to his own devices—his penchant for gray as a go-to color. She giggled. “No. Not even close.”
“But he’s rich?”
“Yes.”
“Handsome?”
“Very.”
“And he’s footing the bill for more tools?”
“That’s the plan.” A plan that would take another month or so to come to fruition. Something about that time frame felt cozily long-term.
Jenny sighed, a mix of concern and pity. Then she shot Josey a sneaky grin. “Does he have a brother?”
*
Not surprisingly, Billy was in the shop at ten on a Saturday morning. He grunted when Ben got within acknowledgment range. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here. How’s the trike coming?”
Billy glared at him from underneath bushy eyebrows. “Same woman, or different?”
Ben chose not to answer that. He made a slow circle around the trike. Billy had the engine on the frame. “Looks good.”
Billy grunted again. So much for conversation. Just to bug the big man, Ben pulled up a stool and watched him. He was promptly ignored.
As Billy worked, Ben’s mind drifted. It started on Josey—more specifically, the way she looked when she woke up, half asleep and half turned on. Man, she’d been all sorts of turned on by that high-speed ride down the highway after dark. He wondered if she’d want to learn to ride. Years had passed since he’d last built a bike from the ground up—if he made one for her, would she ride it? Would she even like it?
He shifted on the stool. Being as he wouldn’t get to see her either sleepy or turned on for another couple of days, he forced his mind to move on to less painful thoughts. He saw Billy had some brochures for new—and expensive—equipment on his workbench.
Snatches of conversations from the past few days jumbled