Free A Little White Lie by MacKenzie McKade

couldn’t help looking back. Her heart sank a little lower. There was no reason to stay in Billings any longer. She was leaving Montana today.
     
    Stomping his feet to shake the mud off his boots, JD pushed open the front door of his house and stepped in. Exhausted in both body and mind, he jerked off his hat and placed it on one of the pegs of the hat rack hanging on the wall. With a brush of his hand he wiped his sleeve across his sweaty brow and released a heavy sigh. The more he thought of Stella, the harder he had worked.
    The joints in his fingers were stiff as he splayed them wide before closing them into a fist. He had strung fence wire for half the day, spent an hour restacking hay, followed by branding several calves, but the final coup de grace was a cow that had wandered into a watering hole and gotten stuck.
    “Oh my.” Mary pulled to a sudden halt. The tiny dark-haired woman always moved like she was hell-bent for leather. She dried her hands on the apron around her waist. “Something amiss, Mr. Foster?”
    “No,” he grumbled. Not something—everything.
    She narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced. “Supper will be in five minutes.” Her gaze slowly scanned his caked boots and clothes. “I’d better make it fifteen.” As quickly as she’d appeared she was gone, disappearing into the dining room.
    Leaden feet carried him down the hall to his bedroom and straight into the adjoining bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he jerked one boot off and then the other, and crusts of dry mud sprinkled the floor. He sat there for a minute feeling numb.
    How gullible could he have been to let a city girl reel him in like a damn fish? Hell. She must be laughing her ass off.
    “You fool.” He tore at his soiled clothing as the memory of her betrayal did the same to his heart. Naked, he crossed the room toward the shower and stepped inside. The first spray of water was ice cold. “Sonofabitch.” Cringing, he gritted his teeth, goose bumps rising quickly across his body. It didn’t take long for the hot water to kick in, and he reached for the soap.
    No leisurely shower was in the cards for him. With agitated swipes he lathered his body, trying to wash away her memory, but it did him no good. He closed his eyes and stepped beneath the water, but she was there in his mind—her smile—her laughter—her betrayal.
    “Enough.” He turned the faucets off and reached outside the stall to grab a towel. Each brush of the cloth as he dried off was rough, filled with anger. What a fool he had been, but there was no way to dismiss the hurt he felt inside. Towel-drying his hair, he strolled into his bedroom, heading for the closet. Draping the linen over his shoulder, he pulled a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants off a hanger. For a moment he hung his head.
    Man. How did everything get so screwed up?
    Raising his head, he walked back into the bathroom and tossed the towel into the hamper. Then he jerked the shirt over his head and crammed his arms in the sleeves before he finger-combed his hair and slipped into the pants. Without putting on shoes he walked out of his bedroom and down the hall.
    As always Mary had a feast laid out on the dining room table. Steaming roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, rice pilaf, freshly baked bread, and a melody of vegetables picked from the garden in back of the house. To his dismay his grandfather had beat him to the table.
    He looked up as JD entered the dining room. “Casual tonight?”
    JD ignored him. Instead he pulled out a chair and took a seat.
    Mary, on the other hand, didn’t give him a second look as she waltzed back into the kitchen that was attached to the dining room. The woman was a gem, returning with a beer in her hand.
    “I’ll take one of those,” his grandfather said before he added, “We need to talk.”
    JD tipped the bottle and took a long drag of the beer. The cold amber felt good against his parched throat. Slamming the bottle down on the