Chapter Nine
Stan had stopped in the bunkhouse hallway outside Jodie’s room. It was a long corridor with bunkroom doors down its length, five to either side. The scarred wood marked the passage of hundreds of ranch hands on thousands of nights over the decades.
Tonight the passage, which he’d never really noticed, felt…wrong. Something wasn’t right.
Yeah, took a real genius moment to figure that out, Corman.
It should have been funny. Bertram had swept her off her feet like a cartoon. She obviously wasn’t hurt. But every time she was near Stan himself, her reactions were off the charts, like chaotically bad. But when she didn’t know he was there, her expression always said she was totally chill—that she had it all together.
Maybe she did. But he was starting to suspect that maybe she
