Callie remembered telling Luke, “I’ll answer all the fan mail with an autographed picture of whomever the mail is addressed to. And then there’s email that comes via your outdated websites. I’ll answer that, too, and get your them into this century.”
Reed cleared his throat. “Who hired you?”
“Your brother Luke.”
“But Luke’s on his honeymoon,” he said coolly.
“I know. He hired me before he left for Hawaii with Amber. I think that it was Amber—or should I call her Sheriff Beaumont?—who suggested me.” She stood and rubbed her forehead. “What’s the problem, Reed? Do you think I broke into this office because I was just dying to answer fan mail for you and your brothers?”
“Guess not.” Reed aimed his crutches in the direction of a brown leather wingback chair and flopped down with a grunt. He stretched out his right leg.
“So, Callie. Tell me. What have you been doing these past ten years?”
* * *
CALLIE LOOKED AS beautiful as always, Reed thought. His fingers itched to bury his fingers in her mass of blond curls like he’d done before. Her eyes had always reminded him of the spring-green grass along the Beaumont River on the eastern side of the ranch.
Today, Callie had on a pair of jeans that she’d been born to wear, jeans that enhanced her curves. He liked her long-sleeved shirt; the pink-and-blue plaid looked soft enough to touch. And she wore cowboy boots. Callie always wore boots. She said that it made her look taller than her five-foot-five-inch frame.
“I’ve been living my life, Reed. Going to school and working.”
“You look great.” And she did. But even more than looks, Callie was a good person inside and out. He’d developed a deep respect for her back when they were in grammar school together, and finally found the nerve to ask her out on a “real” date in senior year. What had followed was three months of romance and a summer full of heat that they generated themselves.
Callie had been his first, and he was hers.
He’d liked the fact that she always volunteered to help someone in need, but she would never ask for anything for herself. He’d missed her, missed their long walks and longer talks. He should have called her, but he couldn’t, not after the way they’d parted.
“Thanks. You look great, too.” She glanced at his injured leg. “Well, except for the obvious.” She sighed. “I always tune into the PBR, but I must have missed the news about your leg.”
“It’s my knee. Torn meniscus. I might not need surgery if I take it easy on the leg and keep it up.”
“Let me get you another chair so you can stretch out.”
Before he could tell her not to bother, she pulled over the other seat.
With a groan, he put his leg up and tried to get comfortable. “Thanks, but you never answered my question. How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been...fine. But I really should get back to work. And to clarify things, Luke hired me to clean up all the papers in here and get them all organized.”
Callie didn’t say much, but he knew she had a habit of changing the subject when she didn’t want to answer a question. Like now.
“Good. This place needs organizing. There are still...things...from my mother’s...um, death, like cards and all. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to go through everything, least of all my father. After Hurricane Daphne hit, we just dried out whatever papers looked important and tossed the rest.”
Silence.
Callie cleared her throat. “Big Dan is still in rehab, isn’t he?”
She asked that question probably to break the silence this time. She had that habit, too. She knew the answer already. Beaumont was a small town. But Callie cared about people, so her question was genuine. All his feelings for her came rushing back like a tidal wave. Was she dating someone? Was she glad to see him? “Yeah. Alcohol rehab. My father’s been there for seven months, but it seems like he’s been fighting his demons forever.” Truthfully, he was worried about his dad. He’d had several setbacks, but they’d be worth it if he learned something from them. Reed wasn’t sure that his dad realized that he could actually get a sentence of incarceration if he was found guilty of violating his probation.
“I understand about Big Dan. And you know, Reed, I can’t believe I’m here, either. I came to the ranch on the usual visits we had every two years in school during history class. Your beautiful mother gave us the tour. I’ve always loved the ranch.”
A pang of sorrow hit his heart, as it always did whenever he thought of his mother, and he took a deep breath. “Mom loved to share the Beaumont history. And remember how I had to take the tour, too? Sometimes I gave it!”
She laughed.
“Callie, I’m sorry I reacted so weirdly. I just didn’t expect to see you, but I’m glad I did. So you’ve been okay?”
“I’ve been fine.” She nodded.
“According to the town grapevine, I know you’ve never gotten married, but are you dating anyone these days? Weren’t you engaged once?”
His mom had seen Callie’s engagement announcement in the Beaumont Bulletin, and Mom had called him—a couple of times—to tell him. Immediately, he fell into a riding slump, drank way too much beer and had to climb out of his funk with the help of his riding pals and his brothers.
“I’m between serious relationships.” She laughed, but her eyes suddenly misted. “It’s a long, boring story.”
“I have the time.”
She shook her head. “I don’t. I have work to do.”
It was like pulling teeth with a bull rope, trying to get her to expand on her replies, but he’d find out sooner or later. On occasion, Reed had seen Callie in town. They would wave to each other, but they’d never stopped to talk. She’d always seemed like she was in a hurry to get away from him.
There wasn’t anything more to say to each other after their disastrous split. He’d been hurt to his very soul when she’d stayed in Beaumont. Or maybe he’d been just too damn young and idealistic to think that she’d travel with him, that’d he’d win a lot of money and they’d start a family.
He’d achieved two out of those three.
“Callie, did you ever go to college for advertising and marketing, like you wanted?”
“No. I didn’t. I went to Beaumont Community College and took some business classes.”
“Why not advertising and marketing?”
She shrugged and looked away, not meeting his eyes. “Things happened,” she said quietly. “And BCC didn’t offer advertising and marketing.”
“But you dreamed of working at an ad agency on Madison Avenue someday.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said softly. “I have my own business now.”
“Good for you. Callie. You always managed to land on your feet.”
“Most of the time.”
Reed could see how uncomfortable he’d made her, so it was his turn to change the subject. “So whose personal assistant are you exactly?”
“Luke’s. He was the one who hired me, although I seem to be doing things for your family.” She pointed to the three overstuffed feed bags. “Those are full of fan mail. The Beaumont Big Guns are quite the hit.”
“That’s all...ours?”
“Yes. And it’s loaded with SASEs for autographed pictures and your reply.”
“Huh?”