“How did you get into that?” she asked with surprise.
“A buddy worked there before the Marines and went back. I had nothing better to do, so I went with him.”
“You didn’t want to come home to Valentine Valley?”
“Not really.”
She glanced at him curiously, but his head was turned to look out the window. She could see his strong jaw, the silhouette of his throat and Adam’s apple since he’d opened his coat. That alone was sexy, but she was able to overlook it. She turned back to the road. “But your grandma—”
“That’s who I’m here for.”
“And there was nothing else that made you want to come home?” She couldn’t even imagine it—everything she loved was here, everything she knew. But there was a whole world out there, and maybe he liked the diversity.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at her, brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“Are you asking if there was a woman I wanted to come home for?”
She frowned, keeping her eyes on the road. “Of course not. After ten years?”
“I’m sure the grapevine would have been buzzing if a girl had waited that long for me,” he said with faint sarcasm. “There’s a constant need around here to know everyone else’s business. One of the reasons I didn’t look forward to returning,” he added.
She shrugged. “It can be good sometimes—or so I tell myself. I’m not a big fan of gossip even if I do share a juicy tidbit with my girlfriends now and then.”
“Who are your girlfriends?”
Fair was fair—she was asking questions, so she had to answer some of his. “Emily, Nate’s fiancée, and Monica, of course.”
“Of course.”
He must remember that she and Monica were best friends—maybe he even realized Monica told her everything—everything—he’d done while they were dating. Brooke hadn’t appreciated his behavior at the time and had been indignant on behalf of her friend. But that was a long time ago.
“Monica’s not married?” he asked.
“Nope. Surprised?”
“A little. I thought she was the marriage-and-baby type.”
Brooke smiled. “I think she’d like to be but she hasn’t met the right guy.” She gave him a speculative glance. “Interested in picking up where you left off?”
“After ten years? No. I’m a different person, and I imagine she is, too.” He paused. “You don’t seem to have changed all that much.”
She stiffened, not sure if she should take offense. “I grew up knowing I’d be a rancher like my dad. And that’s what I’m doing. I always knew what I wanted.” But did she? a little voice inside her whispered. It was startling, even frightening, and she wondered where that voice was coming from. “I’m not sure it’s flattering to be told I haven’t changed.”
“On the outside you’ve changed, maybe even in other ways I can’t see.”
Surprised, she looked at him again, and their gazes met and held for a long moment. Something hidden seemed to uncurl inside her, a sudden rising of desire that took her by surprise. He held himself so still, but it made her think of what strength he kept hidden, what emotions he restrained.
She glanced away. “Naw, I’m just me, Brooke the cowgirl. So did you quit your job to come here, or are you on vacation?”
“I quit. They’ll take me back when I’m done here.”
“Lucky you.”
They rode the last ten minutes in silence, and Brooke told herself she was relieved. The wind had kicked up worse, and she was glad to be taking a break for lunch. When they parked the retriever, she wordlessly gestured with her head for Adam to follow her. They stopped in the barn because the dogs had gathered to greet her, and it was too cold to linger outside. They had three cow dogs besides Scout, who was usually with Nate. All three dogs greeted Adam with friendly reserve, and after a couple sniffs, with open enthusiasm, which he accepted affably.
“Let’s get lunch,” she said, not looking to see if he followed her. “My mom might have rung the bell while we were gone, but she also texted me.”
“Modern ranch life,” Adam said. “You don’t have to feed me.”
She glanced over her shoulder as she crossed the now-uneven, frozen yard, squinting against the wind. “It’s part of the job, so be quiet and eat.”
In the mudroom off the kitchen, they peeled their winter garments off in wet, dirty layers and walked in stocking feet into the kitchen. Her mom’s wheelchair was pushed to the table, which spanned the many windows along one wall. Josh and Nate were already seated opposite each other, heads bent over their plates, although they did give twin waves while holding their hamburgers aloft. The ranch’s part-timer, Lou Webster, seated across the table beside Nate, gave Adam an openly curious look. Lou had to be in his seventies, with bright blue eyes that peered out of wrinkly, leather skin, bald on top with a scraggle of white hair outlining the shining dome.