Читать книгу Colby Law - Debra Webb - Страница 9

Second Chance Ranch, 6:00 p.m.

Sadie washed up and tossed the hand towel aside. What was she doing? Her reflection didn’t give her the answer she wanted to see. All she saw in the mirror was a woman who still wanted the only man she’d ever loved. The man who’d left her with painful words that rang in her ears to this day.

I can’t do this, Sadie. You’re just a kid. I don’t have time for games.

Anger and hurt—yes, hurt—twisted her heart. He’d left and she’d cried herself to sleep every night for months. What the hell was she doing allowing him to worm his way back into her life for any reason? The answer resonated in her brain as clearly as the last words he’d uttered to her all those years ago. Despite their miserable history, a tiny piece of her wanted to believe that it could be different now. Yeah, he was still six years older than her, but she was twenty-two—soon to be twenty-three—a lifetime away from fifteen.

Did that really change anything? Of course not. Just because he was here to do a job didn’t mean he felt any different today than he had seven years ago. Did she? She’d thought she was way over Lyle McCaleb ages ago, but apparently she’d been lying to herself.

As angry and disgusted as she was with her own stupidity and his audacity, she might as well get this over with. Her excuses for hanging out in the bathroom had run out. Time to face the reality of this bizarre turn of events and get some answers from the man.

Taking a big breath, she opened the door and stalled. What was that smell? Fried potatoes? She sniffed the air like a beagle on the scent of a rabbit. Corn bread? Her mouth watered as much at the memory of her grandmother’s cooking the scents evoked as at the delicious smells themselves wafting from her kitchen right now.

Lyle cooking? No way. Had Walley, the last employee to leave her high and dry and the only one who could cook, come crawling back? Not likely. He was far too afraid of Gus. She wandered to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to get the lay of the land. No Walley in sight. Hat hanging on a kitchen chair, a red-and-white striped dish towel slung over one broad shoulder, Lyle McCaleb stirred what she presumed to be the potatoes revving her appetite. Sadie leaned against the door frame, too shocked to speak or maybe too curious to risk interrupting. This was a side of Lyle she had never seen. Then again, the fact that their every encounter before had been on the sly might have something to do with that.