Free Leftover Love by Janet Dailey

Layne,” she mused almost absently. “It makes you reject the very thing you want the most.”
    The shrug of Mattie’s shoulders seemed an attempt to dismiss the somber subject as she again bent to the task of sorting clothes, briskly tossing them into the appropriate piles. Layne could only wonder whether that had been a direct reference to the illegitimate daughter she’d given up for adoption, or if Mattie had been generalizing.
    “I guess John eventually changed all that,” Layne said idly.
    “It took a while—a long while. He had no patience with people who felt sorry for themselves. I had worked here almost four years before I realized how much that man meant to me. No one could have been more surprised than I was at the time.” She straightened, her face slightly flushed from all the blood rushing to her head, and studied Layne with a speculative look. “All this must be boring to you. Or is this research for your article?”
    “I was interested in your background, but we can keep the personal part of it off the record if you want.” Avoiding that gaze, Layne poured detergent into a measuring cup and added it to the clothes in the washer tub.
    “None of it’s a secret, but it’s all in the past and I’d rather keep it there,” Mattie stated.
    “That’s okay with me,” Layne assured her and set the washing machine to start its cycle.
    “It looks like you’re all set here, so I guess I’ll go see if I can’t get that plane started this morning. Enjoy your day off,” Mattie offered wryly, knowing one kind of work was being exchanged for another.
    “I will.” A small smile touched Layne’s mouth as she watched Mattie disappear through the door to the kitchen.
    That copper hair might owe some of its color to a henna rinse, but Layne suspected that Mattie was still as strong-minded and adventurous as she ever was. Experience might have given her a sense of caution but it hadn’t lessened any of her spunk.
    Only a small percentage of the current female population were licensed pilots, but Mattie had stopped logging her hours ten years ago when she had flown more than a thousand. The boundaries of the Ox-Yoke Ranch encompassed twenty-five thousand acres, and another ten thousand acres were leased. With a plane a lot of territory could be covered in a hurry—broken fences spotted, strayed cattle located, and overall range conditions checked.
    Thoughtfully Layne leaned a hip against the washing machine as it filled with water. In many respects Mattie hadn’t lived up to Layne’s image of what her natural mother would be like. She didn’t possess the tender, motherly attributes Layne had tried to associate with her. But, woman to woman, Layne liked and respected Mattie. Maybe that was a discovery in itself.
    The machine kicked into its wash cycle, and the agitator splashed water onto her. Layne jumped with a start, then shook her head when she saw that she’d forgotten to close the lid.
    The following week a warm spell came and melted the snow from the hills. The complexion of the rolling landscape changed from its glistening white to a faded brown,the color of the thick grasses that blanketed the land. Billowing, white clumps of cotton clouds chased each other across the wide blue sky, changing shape and size.
    The dense grass absorbed the thud of cantering hoofs as Layne rode alongside Hoyt Weber. A cow had fallen on some ice and badly scraped its front legs. Layne had ridden out on the range with Hoyt to catch the lame cow and doctor its injuries. The animal had not been the most cooperative nor grateful patient. But the task was accomplished and they were heading back to the gate where the pickup and horse trailer had been left.
    All the swells and dips of this undulating land looked the same to her. Layne realized how easy it would be to become lost once a person went beyond the sight of the ranch buildings. She was completely turned around and trusted that Hoyt knew which way to go.
    They