Page 47 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

“Amelia thought you were pretty cool.”

Maxwell blinked himself back into the moment as his mind raced, discarding several responses as quickly as they flitted through. He posed in a weightlifter’s muscular stance. “I was pretty cool. For a scrawny kid.”

As he’d hoped, Eryn grinned at that. “Yeah, you were.”

Wait, what? “You noticed me back then?”

The pink tinge returned to her cheeks. “It was hard not to.”

“Huh. I never knew.”

“Because you barely knew I existed. It’s okay. I was used to it.”

He studied her face. “Your sister was a force to be reckoned with.” And there was more going on than he’d realized. Maybe having a twin hadn’t been all he’d assumed.

“She was. I, um, should get going. Echo is probably wondering where I am.” Eryn turned away.

Maxwell caught her arm. “Eryn? As you know, I hadn’t seen Amelia since high school. But you have depth that she never had, unless she acquired it later.”

Eryn looked at where his hand rested beside her elbow. “Amelia didn’t do deep.”

His hunch appeared to be correct. He wouldn’t push now, but he’d keep watching for the clues he’d likely missed earlier about the twins’ relationship. It seemed it hadn’t been sunshine-and-roses. Maybe Amelia was responsible for Eryn’s hesitant nature. That seemed to fit, but he couldn’t be sure.

“She might not have matured, but I guess that’s neither here nor there anymore. I’m sorry — it seems she died without having grown beyond that.”

Eryn’s nod was more like a sharp jerk of her head.

There was definitely more to the story than he’d ferreted out yet, but he had time. He might be quick and decisive in his renovation business, but he could be patient.

He could at least try to be.

Making cold calls was exquisitely painful, but Eryn took a deep breath and punched in the first number. She’d picked the potter, because the woman had already sold her work at the ranch, and Maxwell said she went to the same church.

“You’ve reached Trinity Kennedy at Bayside Kiln. How may I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Eryn Ralston, calling from Sweet River Ranch.” She took a deep breath and read the script she’d prepared. “I’m creating a business plan for the gift shop here. I know you’ve sold some of your pottery here in the past few years, but there isn’t any onsite now, and I’d like to see your line and talk to you about it, if you have time? I’ll be in town on Monday.”

“Monday…”

Eryn heard some tapping.

“Monday at four should work, if that’s all right? My studio is in Agate Bay.”

Good thing Maxwell would be driving. He’d know how to find that, right? Because Eryn had no clue, and her car was too ancient for GPS. “That sounds great. I can’t wait to meet you on Monday.”

“Same! See you then. Also, I’m glad to hear someone is taking on that gift shop. It needs it.”

Eryn agreed, tapped to end the call, and took a few deep breaths. That hadn’t gone too badly, but then, Trinity hadn’t precisely been a cold call. Cold for Eryn, but not for the ranch.

Echo nickered and nudged Eryn’s shoulder.

Eryn turned and wrapped her arms around the filly’s neck. “Hey, how did you know I needed a friend?”

An equine sigh misted down Eryn’s back.

“Not talking about it, huh?” She laughed, feeling some of the tension dissipate. Had Maxwell realized how therapeutic hanging around Echo would be for Eryn? She’d thought it was for the filly’s sake, but she was beginning to wonder if he’d been more perceptive than she’d given him credit for.

Should she be offended that he thought hanging around a horse would be helpful to her? Hmm.

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