Free Wishing on a Rodeo Moon (Women of Character) by Grace Brannigan Page B

each other.
    As she
walked back toward the house, Tye noticed cars in the driveway. Apparently
Jake's football enthusiasts had arrived while she was occupied at the barn. The
air carried the tantalizing scent of barbecue, making her mouth water,
reminding her she hadn’t eaten. Nevertheless, Tye skirted the pool and
headed for the door of her apartment. She was curious about Jake's friends, but
she wouldn’t intrude, even if Jake had extended an open invitation. Tye
knew it was probably unreasonable, since she was happy to have Pongo here, but
she resented Jake taking the decision into his own hands.
    "Hey,
hang on a minute!" a female voice called out.
    With her
hand on the door latch, Tye turned to see a slim girl in her late teens hailing
her. She wore tight jeans and a bright pink halter top. The girl vaulted the
steps to the pool area easily. Tye felt a brief envy. At one time, she had
taken such effortless movements for granted.
    The girl
held out a hand to Tye with a big smile. Her dark hair was short and curly. Her
somewhat familiar blue eyes told Tye she could like her in a minute.
    "Hi,
Tye. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me?" The girl’s
face fell.
    Tye
studied her dark eyes and a smile welled inside. "Amy, Jake's little
sister. It took me a minute." Tye reached forward spontaneously and
enclosed Amy in a hug.
    "Oh,
Tye, I’m so glad you’re back with Jake ―"
    She
pulled back. "Hold on Amy, I’m not back with Jake, not in the sense
you mean." She drew a deep breath. The thought of belonging to Jake
created all kinds of shivery feelings inside.  "This is only
temporary. I’m his tenant." Tye almost felt amused by the chagrin on
Amy’s face.
    "God!
I’m sorry." Amy opened her blue eyes wide and turned down her mouth.
"I remember how romantic it was, you and Jake."
    "That
was a long time ago. Now we’re friends." If she said the words
enough, would she start to believe that’s all she felt for him? Tye
wondered.
    Amy
cocked an eyebrow. "Friends? You’re as closemouthed as Jake. My
brother doesn't say anything unless he's forced to."
    Tye
silently agreed. "How are your sisters, and your mother?" she asked.
She hadn’t asked Jake much about his family. It had felt too personal.
    "They’re
fine. With me out of the house Jake’s finally getting a break." Amy
gave her a gamine grin and in a friendly gesture urged her toward the steps
leading from the pool to the lawns below. "As you can see my oldest
sisters, Janice and Luanne are here. Mom and the others live out of state. I
came over to see if you'll join us. There’s plenty of food."
    Tye could
see the tables crammed with food, lawn chairs scattered all about. Her stomach
growled.
    "You
can even play football if you like."
    She
swallowed with difficulty, then said lightly, "Um, thanks. I don't play
football."
    "I
remember you used to." Amy bit her lip. "What I meant to say is
it’s a fun get-together." She looked out toward the playing field.
    Curious
despite herself, Tye followed Amy down the terraced steps.
    "Everyone
is dying to meet you. They’re being polite and giving you space. As you
can guess, I’m not the polite type."
    Tye
threw her a quick look. "‘Giving me space?’"
    "Jake’s
phrase."
    Tye
looked at the other girl with raised brows. Jake had been talking about her to
Amy?
    Amy
grimaced. "I kind of walked in on a conversation he was having with
Ben." She tossed her head back, her expression somewhat defiant.
    "Jake
thinks I need space?" Tye asked, tongue in cheek.
    Amy
caught her teasing smile. "Jake says I don’t think before the words
come out. I know everyone would like to meet you."
    "That's
nice of you to say so, but actually I'm right in the middle of an article
I’m writing."
    "I
know you went to school for journalism, but I didn’t know you had pursued
writing."
    "My
articles all have a rodeo slant. Unless you read those type of publications,
you wouldn’t be familiar with my byline. It’s nice to have that
second