Page 43 of Rusty

With that, Janice turned and left the cabin. The door clicked shut, echoing like a gunshot through the empty room. Rusty stared at the worn wooden floorboards, his hands trembling with the aftershocks of their confrontation. He clenched his fists, the pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the swirling doubts tormenting his mind.

"Damn it," he muttered angrily, kicking the leg of the couch they had just sat on moments ago. The furniture barely moved. "Should've told her about calling Angus," he whispered to himself, pacing back and forth across the small space.

Would she ever forgive him for hiding the truth? Had he lost her for good this time?

He ran his fingers through his hair, the tension knotting in his shoulders. How could he have ruined things all over again?

"Maybe I can fix this," Rusty murmured, pausing to consider the possibility. He envisioned riding Midnight out to find Janice, sweeping her up into his arms and promising to make everything right.

But even in his daydreams, the specter of Angus loomed over them.

She’s dead to me.

That’s what Angus had said. But what did that mean? He was cutting her out of the inheritance? About to destroy her reputation? Or just setting her free, letting her live life on her own terms?

Rusty had either done something sincerely good . . . or very, very bad.

"Who am I kiddin'?" he sighed, slumping down onto the couch. "I'm no hero, not like those cowboy heroes in the movies. Janice deserves better," he admitted quietly, his heart aching with the bitter truth. "She deserves someone who can protect her, not make her life even worse."

As Rusty sat there, lost in his thoughts, the night wore on and the cabin grew colder. The fire had long since died, leaving only ash and embers where once there had been warmth and light. It seemed like an all-too-fitting metaphor for what had become of his relationship with Janice.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Shoved

Janice pushed scrambled eggsand bacon around her plate.

“You not eating again, Janice?” asked Sara. “You gotta keep up your strength, you know! My Daddy Ethan says breakfast is the most important meal of the day—and if it involves bacon, then it’sdoublyimportant!”

Usually, Janice would have laughed at that.

Not today.

Nothing seemed funny today. Not after she’d learned that Rusty had broken up with her all those years ago because of her father. It hurt bad enough that her father had been behind it, but it made things even worse that Rusty had kept it from her.

She had no idea that her father had threatened to destroy the Maguire’s ranch if she and Rusty hadn’t gotten together. She knew it was selfish, but part of her was angry that Rusty had prioritized his ranch over their relationship.

"Morning, Janice." A deep voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Chuck North standing beside her table, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"G-good morning, Chuck," Janice replied, her voice wavering slightly.

"Janice, I'd like you to come into my office as soon as you’ve finished your breakfast," Chuck said seriously.

"Of course," Janice responded, her heart racing. “In fact, I’m done now. Sara, you can eat my bacon.”

“Alright,” said Sara, shooting Janice a concerned look. “You want me to wait here for you?”

Janice shook her head. “No. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

She rose from her seat, following Chuck down the hallway toward his office.

As they walked, Janice couldn't help but replay the events of the past few weeks in her mind—her arrival at Littlecreek Ranch, her growing love of helping the horses, and the fear of having it all taken away.

"Please, have a seat." Chuck gestured to a chair facing his desk as they entered his office.

Janice complied, her stomach churning with anticipation. "Is something wrong?" she asked hesitantly.

"Let's have a talk," Chuck responded, looking her directly in the eyes. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced on his chest, waiting for Janice to speak.

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