Page 22 of Texas Made
“Yes. I told you I spent a year traveling around the U.S.” She nodded and he continued, “I took off when I turned twenty-one, shortly after I finished college.”
“What’s your degree in?”
“Equine studies.”
“That sounds like you knew what you wanted to do.”
“I did. But I wanted to be sure. I didn’t want to get into it and five years down the line decide it wasn’t for me. Anyway, I didn’t tell anyone but Cole what I was doing.” Remembering, he smiled. “He’s still pissed at me over that. He had to tell the family that I’d left, and he had no idea where I’d gone or when I’d be back.”
“Why didn’t you tell your family?”
He shrugged. “Partly because I didn’t know what I was going to do. Partly because I didn’t want anything tying me down. And partly because I didn’t want to hear the questions about why I was wasting my education, how long was I planning to be gone, blah, blah, blah. So I spent a year traveling the country. All over the country. I didn’t hit every state but darn near.”
“What kind of work did you do?”
“Nothing farm- or ranch-related. I already knew what that was like and to get my degree I worked with a lot of horses and on a lot of ranches. I wanted to be positive that breeding horses was what I really wanted to do, so I tried all kinds of different things. The shortest time I ever spent in one place where I found a job was two days. The longest was six weeks.”
“I want to hear more about this but I’m starving.” She got out of bed and put on his shirt, rolling up the sleeves after buttoning it.
Damn, he’d been enjoying the view. But he had to admit she looked amazing wearing nothing but his shirt and with her blonde hair wild and flowing down her back. He got up and pulled on his jeans, following her into her kitchen.
After opening the refrigerator she took out a pizza box and set it on the counter. “There’s about a half a pizza left. Cold or warm?”
“Cold.”
“You probably think I never eat anything but pizza. But in my opinion it’s the perfect food.”
“I’d have to agree with that assessment.”
She smiled and opened the box, offered it to him, then took a piece for herself. “So what was this shortest job?”
“Office work.”
Jaclyn stared at him with her piece of pizza halfway to her mouth. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I worked as a gofer for a newspaper.” It still made him shudder to think about it. “I only lasted a day and a half. Offices are not my thing.”
“Don’t like being indoors, huh?”
“I preferred outdoors but that didn’t always happen. I worked in a lot of restaurants. Did some painting, indoors and out. Had a good many construction jobs. I worked on some fishing boats. That was hard work.” And dangerous.
“I’m sure it was. Is that where you got this?” She touched the two-inch-long scar on his side.
“No.”
“How did you get it? Or is that something you don’t talk about?”
He sighed. “I’ll tell you but don’t tell Damaris.”
She mimed zipping her lips.
“That’s a souvenir from a knife fight.”
“That sounds scary. What happened?”
“Early on, I was in a bar and a dude decided he didn’t like me flirting with his woman.”
“Were you?”
