Page 41 of Cash
His jaw tics. “You would’ve if you’d asked.”
“Like you’ve asked a damn question about me.”
“Me, me, me. That’s you in a nutshell, isn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes. “You know, I was just starting to feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t need your sympathy.”
“I don’t need your judgment.” I turn my head and straighten my spine, face burning all over again.
I should fire him. Right now.
But that would make me the asshole, wouldn’t it? And let’s be real; I’m way,wayout of my element. I know how important a foreman is to the ranch’s operation, and I have no idea where I could find another go-to guy on such short notice.
One thing I do know? Cash makes this little world goround, much as I hate to admit it. If I’m going to be on the ranch—if I’m going to manage it in a way that would make Dad proud for the little while I’m here—I need Cash Rivers’s help.
“Why would Dad tell you the ranch was yours, but not change it in his will?” I ask.
I feel Cash shrug. The motion has him pressing his belly flush against my back. My pulse spikes. I ignore it.
“I don’t know.”
“But you said he and Goody worked closely together? Wouldn’t she have urged him to put that in the will?”
“Goody was always at the ranch, yeah. Why do you think she was able to tack up a horse so quickly? She’s ridden that filly so often, it’s practically hers at this point.”
“Ah. Right.”
“But, yeah, I imagine he thought he’d get around to changing the will, and then…who plans to drop dead at fifty-six?”
That’s one thing I do know about Dad. “He was always in such great shape.”
“You have to be if you wanna keep cowboyin’,” Cash replies.
I scoff. “I think my dad loved being a cowboy more than he loved anything else.”
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t know that,” I snap.
Cash yanks on the reins, pulling the horse to a stop. I turn my head a little so I can just glimpse Cash in my peripheral vision.
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“You resent me for knowing him better than you did, don’t you, City Girl?”
I turn away, my eyes welling with tears. I’m more angry than sad, but I cry anytime I’m upset.
Usually, I’ll try to hide it. Keep everyone else comfortable.At the very least, keep me from embarrassing myself. But fuck that. Cash wants brutal honesty, that’s what he’ll get.
“I do, yeah.” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “Maybe that makes me petty, but whatever. Dad was so good to y’all…goddamn, I wish he’d been that good to me.”
Cash is quiet for a beat. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Icouldn’t care lessabout your intentions. Take me back to the house, Cash.”
“Mollie—”