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Of course. God, could this town be any smaller?

“I can’t talk about it now. I’m in town. Can I call you when I get back to the ranch?” She issued a curse under her breath. “Shoot. Maybe tomorrow, actually. It’s payday, so I’ve got to settle with the team.”

“Are you hiding him from me? Because drama or not, I’m here for this story, Mags.”

“I’m not hiding him, Jill, and there’s really no drama.”

“You can’t fool me, Maggie. I’ve known you too long. Anyway, if I don’t hear from you by tomorrow night, I’m driving the contract there myself.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll call you by tomorrow night.”

“Damn straight you will.”

“Thanks for handling the contract, Jill,” Maggie managed before the phone went dead.

Oh boy. She was in for it now. There wasn’t any hiding anything from Jill, and she’d take less than two cow tail shakes to dredge up whatever was going on between Maggie and Bennett, regardless of whether or not Maggie tried to bury it. Because if she was going to fix up the ranch and say goodbye to her dad in her way, she needed to bury her feelings for the handsome rancher who kept sneaking past her defenses.

Great.

Maggie walked back into Mae’s a little less excited about a scone. Grace was there at the counter, sipping on a mug of something steamy and that smelled like chai spices.

“Maggie, doll. How are you holding up?”

Maggie smiled but shrugged. “As good as can be expected, I guess. Just trying to keep my head above water.”

“My son’s been helpful, I hope?”

“Bennett? I’m guessing I have you to thank for that.” Grace just smiled. “But yes, he’s been a big help. We’re moving the cattle up the canyon at the end of the week.”

“Yes, Bill said something about that to me. Now about that other thing—you can thank me by coming to the house for dinner tonight.”

Maggie opened her mouth to object, but Grace shook her head.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh, Grace, thank you, but—”

“No buts. Your rain check has been called to order.”

“I would, but I’ve got so much to do before the cattle drive, including shoring up the last line of fencing,” she said, slightly grateful now for the work piled high in front of her if for no other reason than it would be Maggie’s ticket out of dinner with Bennett’s mom. Grace was a sweetheart, but that was the problem. Maggie didn’t need any more temptation where the Marshalls were concerned.

Grace twisted her mouth into a thoughtful scowl and then broke into a smile that worried Maggie. “Fine. We’ll eat at seven thirty. The sun will be down by then anyway, and you’ve got to eat, hon.” Grace waved to Mae and left her unfinished tea on the counter. “See you tomorrow for the rehearsal, Mae. Don’t forget the aprons.” To Maggie, she whispered, “Make her show them to you—they’re hysterical. See you tonight.”

With that, she was gone and Maggie, who had been looking forward to going home, throwing on sweatpants, and reading one of her father’s Harlan Coben mysteries, suddenly had two sets of plans—neither of which she’d asked for. And it was a toss-up as to which she was dreading more—the fencing or Grace Marshall and her son.

She sighed and took the bag Mae handed her. She’d come to regret the scone and the trouble stopping for it had caused. But one peek inside the bag and she was all smiles again. It would be delicious, if not worth it.

“Mae, you might as well throw in a cheesecake. I can’t show up to Grace’s empty-handed, can I?”

Mae laughed. “No, you cannot. But if I can steer you in a different direction, cheesecake is her second favorite. How about I send you with a vanilla tart?”

“Sure. That sounds great.”

Maggie took the tart and scone to her car.

Well, this day had gotten ahead of her, hadn’t it?

Once the tart was secured in the fridge and the men were paid, Maggie decided maybe she’d take that run after all. The fencing could wait. Given Bennett’s warning about the bear, she shot him a quick text.