Your friend is trying to tell you she’s not interested. True, a straightforward answer would be more convenient, but she’s chosen a roundabout way of saying “No thanks.”
Annie pulled the truck into her drive and met Pepper at the fence. Her foot ached as she walked toward the corral. She’d been working with a quarter horse that wouldn’t load into a trailer.
Maisy had bumped her head on the trailer last fall, and then, when she wouldn’t load in the spring, Frank Peterson had decided she needed a whip to the hindquarters. This had only exacerbated the problem.
Unfortunately he’d been using the same method ever since, and now the mare bucked upon approaching the trailer. Annie had only made progress with Maisy when she’d removed Frank from the premises—a request he hadn’t taken kindly to. She’d gotten the horse loaded but not before Maisy’s hoof had come down on Annie’s boot.
The man had no business working with horses. If people treated them right, 99 percent of problems would never materialize.
“Isn’t that right, Pepper?” Annie rubbed the horse’s neck as he nickered hello.
She’d run into John at the market, where she’d gone for a bag of ice, and they’d had words over her injury. She wished he understood she wasn’t some hothouse flower. Working with horses carried risks, and he needed to accept that going forward. They’d finally made up and parted with strained smiles.
She gave Pepper a final pat. “See you later, big guy.”
Annie limped toward the house, her foot still smarting. Inside, a yeast and garlic aroma wafted in the air. Pizza. Not her first choice, but she’d take it.
“What happened to you?” Sierra asked.
“Minor accident.”
Ryder came sliding around the corner for a hug. “Yum, pizza!”
“You’re just in time.” Sierra set the hot pie in the center of the table while Annie sank into her chair. The swelling in her foot had gone down, but the words she’d exchanged with John still lingered in her mind.
“My turn!” Ryder folded his hands and bowed his head. “Thanks, God, for the pizza and for letting me beat Mom at Chutes and Ladders today. Amen.”
“You cheated,” Sierra teased.
“Did not. Mom doesn’t like to lose,” he said to Annie.
“She was the same way when we were kids,” Annie whispered.
“Hmph.” Sierra sliced the pizza and set a piece on Ryder’s plate.
As hard as it had been to make do without Sierra’s income over the summer, she knew Ryder had enjoyed having his mom home. Only a few more weeks and she’d be back in class. After hiding away the past two days, Sierra was getting antsy. By the end of the week, she’d be happy to go anywhere, even college.
“You got your classes scheduled online, right?” Annie asked.
Sierra wiped her mouth. “Not yet.”
Annie squeezed her napkin in her lap. “School starts in less than a month. I know you’ve been . . . distracted the last few days, but you only have five classes left. What if they fill up?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
“If you miss even one class, you won’t graduate in the—”
“I said I’ll handle it, Annie.”
“And you need to make sure Martha still wants to babysit—”
The phone rang and Annie scooted her chair back, glad for the distraction.
Sierra looked up, wide-eyed. “Don’t answer.”
Annie frowned as it rang again. “Why not?”
“Just don’t, okay?” She gave Ryder a stilted smile. “Let’s just enjoy our pizza, huh, buddy? No sense letting it get cold.” Her cheery voice wobbled.
“It’s yummy, Mommy.”
Annie sank into her chair. They’d had to drop voice mail, so the phone rang a few more times. Sierra sat rigidly until it stopped, chewing her food, but Annie didn’t think she even tasted it. Had Luke somehow found out she was here? But why would he call when he’d wanted nothing to do with her or Ryder? It must be someone else.
After supper Annie loaded their plates into the dishwasher while Sierra washed the pizza pan.
“Okay, what gives?” Annie whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“Who are you avoiding? Besides Luke, I mean.”
Sierra breathed a laugh. “Just some. . . guy. You know.” She shrugged, her auburn hair bouncing on her shoulder. “I’m not interested, that’s all.”
“Have you told him that? It’s always best to be direct.”
Sierra faced her, blew out a long sigh. “I can handle it, Annie, okay? It’s my school schedule, my social life, and I can handle it all just fine.” She tossed the towel on the counter and left the room.
Annie could only pray Sierra was right.
Later that night the phone rang again. Annie squinted at the glowing hands on her alarm clock. After one. She automatically reached for her cell, then realized it was the landline ringing. She remembered the phone call at supper. Sierra and Ryder were safe in bed, so it wouldn’t be them. If it were a work emergency, whoever it was would’ve called her cell.
She jumped from bed anyway. She had to know what was going on. If it were some pushy guy, Annie would happily clue him in. But by the time she reached the kitchen, the ringing had stopped.
Sighing, she returned to her room, checking on Ryder on her way past. He was sleeping soundly, his legs in a tussle with the thrift-store cowboy sheets Sierra had found.
She climbed back into bed, worry tickling at the frayed edges of her mind at the thought of those phone calls. If Sierra was going to handle her own life, she wished the girl would do a better job.