- -
- 100%
- +
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Just wondering if I could give you a hand?”
Gone was the sexy, flirty voice he’d used on her at the bar. Today he looked serious. Maybe even a little sheepish. He was in jeans and a clean work shirt. No red chambray today, thank goodness. He held his hat in his hands, his stance that of a little boy feeling guilty about something.
As he damn well should.
She wanted to tell him to go to hell. But after last night, he owed her. Besides, she had some business to discuss with Colt. Something she should have brought up yesterday if she hadn’t been having too much fun.
“That depends on how much time you’ve got.”
“As much as you need.”
Oh, she highly doubted that was true.
“There’s a bed, a sofa and a table-and-chair set back in Mom’s basement and I can’t move them myself….”
“I’d be glad to help. Let’s take my truck. It’s bigger.”
For the first time she noticed his vehicle. It was a newer model, with all the extras. “Sweet. Can I drive?”
She could have sworn his face grew paler. But he handed her the keys with only the slightest of hesitations, then opened the driver’s side door for her. When she was settled, he loped around the truck and slid into the seat next to her.
She was aware of his eyes on her as she made the necessary adjustments to the seat and the mirrors. Only when she was done did he ask, “So…how’s the head this morning?”
When she grimaced, he chuckled. “Thought so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You had a few too many. That’s all.”
She groaned. “Was it that obvious?”
He reached for her hair and gave a little tug. Just a playful gesture…so why did her heart do a little flip?
“Let’s just say you were a little unsteady on your feet. Also, let’s face it—if you hadn’t had a few beers, no way would you have let me kiss you.”
She turned her eyes briefly from the road to check his expression. Really? Was that the way he wanted to play this? Well, fine with her. “So true,” she said coolly. “But even single mothers need to have a little fun now and then.”
“I suppose that’s true,” he said, his voice suddenly tight.
“I wouldn’t want our foolishness last night to affect our friendship, Colt.”
“Foolishness?”
“Good,” she said, ignoring the question in his voice. “Glad we see it the same way.” She turned the corner to her mother’s block, then pulled up into the driveway. “Here we are. Hope you’re ready to work.”
* * *
LEAH HAD BRUSHED OFF their evening together as “foolishness.” Colt knew he should feel glad. He was off the hook and back in the sea—free and unencumbered, as always.
Maybe the gladness would come later, when the good news had a chance to sink in.
For now, he was satisfied to put his muscles to good use. The move didn’t take long. At one point Prue Stockton stepped out on the porch to watch for a few moments. Then she gave him a polite nod and went back inside with the kids.
As for Jill and Davey, he didn’t see any sign of them at all. Which he was grateful for. He had no experience with kids and had no idea what to do or say around them.
Within two hours all the work was done. Leah’s new house was okay, Colt thought. Kind of small, especially the kids’ bedroom. They’d barely managed to fit in the two beds, and had been forced to stuff the bureau into the small closet.
That stench coming from the basement wasn’t good, either. But Leah told him she was planning to talk to her landlord about tearing out the old carpet and painting the walls. Maybe he’d offer to help.
That was the sort of thing a friend would do, after all.
Friend. His mind grated over the word every time he thought of it in conjunction with Leah. Because she was just as attractive to him now as she’d been last night at the Open Range.
Get over it, he told himself. She’d offered him an olive branch this morning and he should be damn grateful she’d given him that much.
They were in the living room now. Leah had her hands on the slim curves of her hips. “Hmm. I’m thinking the sofa would look better on that wall.” She pointed to the one opposite the window. “What do you think?”
He had a mother and a sister, so knew better than to offer an opinion. “Whatever you say.” Obediently, he picked up one end of the sofa and maneuvered it into place.
Leah smiled. “That is better, thanks.” She glanced around the room, then sighed. “I think we’re finally done.”
He had to get her out of there before she thought up another redecorating idea. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Want to grab a late lunch at the Number 1? Sierra serves a mean roast beef special on Sundays.”
Leah considered the offer. “Let me phone my mother first and see how the kids are doing.”
He waited while she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. Like him, she had an iPhone, only instead of a horse she used a picture of her two kids for her wallpaper. After a brief conversation she gave him the nod. “Mom said we should go ahead. They had their lunch an hour ago. But where is the Number 1—is it new? I don’t remember a café by that name. A coal mine, yes, but not a café.”
Colt waited while she locked up her new home, then led her to the passenger side of his truck. His day was looking up now that he’d convinced her to have lunch with him and he was happy to bring her up to speed on some of the happenings she’d missed when she lived in Calgary.
“Sierra Byrne owns and runs the Number 1. She named the café in honor of her grandfather, a miner who drowned when the Number 1 was flooded back in… I don’t know when exactly. A long time ago. It’s been open about four years.”
“Did Sierra grow up here?”
Relieved that Leah didn’t ask to drive again, Colt walked around to the driver’s side and pressed the buttons to return his seat and mirrors to their original positions. His new truck had impressed her. It was kind of ridiculous how happy that made him.
“Nah, Sierra’s parents lived in Chicago. But her mother and Aunt Jordan grew up in Roundup and Sierra’s family spent summers at their cabin along the Musselshell River.”
Leah glanced out the window as they drove along Highway 87 toward First Street. “Must have been some change moving from Chicago to here.”
Her comment made Colt wonder how Leah herself was making the adjustment. “You miss Calgary?”
She was quiet for a bit, then shifted her gaze from the town to him. “If the past six years taught me anything, it’s that I’m a small-town girl at heart.”
There was a world of unhappiness in that comment, Colt thought. He parked across the street from the redbrick building that housed the Number 1.
“Hey, isn’t this the old newspaper building?” Leah whistled. “Sierra sure fixed it up nicely.”
“Wait until you taste the food.” Colt was about to open his door when Leah stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hang on a sec. You’re still not off the hook where last night is concerned.”
“I’m not?”
“Like I told you before, I’m planning to start a new business here in Roundup. I’ve got a business diploma with an agricultural accounting concentration and—” she took a deep breath “—I was hoping Thunder Ranch might be my first client.”
It took him a few seconds to process what she was saying. “Seriously? You want to be an accountant?”
“It’s a good job for a working mother. Tell me—who does your family’s books now?”
“My mother.”
“Do you think she’d consider hiring outside help?”
He thought about the health scare she’d had recently, and all the extra work that had fallen on her and Ace’s shoulders since they added the bucking horse breeding program. Most everyone in his family would rather be working on the land and with the animals than doing paperwork in the office. “I’ll talk to her about it—okay?”
“That would be great.”
He adjusted his hat, then gave her a cautious glance. “So we’re square now?”
“What do you think?”
Colt laughed. She kept him hopping, that was for sure. And if he had to be on the hook with someone, Leah Stockton would be his first pick.
* * *
THE INSIDE OF the café had been decorated in keeping with the mining theme, with historical photographs on the walls and a shelf full of mining artifacts. Leah especially liked the dramatic color scheme—sparkly red tables and black leather seats. Colt led her to a corner booth, and she was charmed to see a miniature coal bucket in the middle of the table holding the condiments.
Colt waved at someone out of her line of sight. She turned to see a curvy woman, about her age, in a red apron delivering two plates of the lunch special to the table behind them. When she was done, she gave Colt a warm smile.
“Hey, Sierra. How’re you doing?”
“Business is good, so I’m happy. I’ll take your order in a sec, Colt. Just let me get you some water, first.”
She turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen, and Leah cleared her throat.
“Um…either I’m invisible, or that woman only has eyes for you. She didn’t even glance at me.”
Colt flashed a smile—the kind he’d used a lot the previous evening. “Darlin’, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“Right. After last night? I don’t think so.”
Sierra returned then, and Leah flashed a smug look at Colt when she had only one glass of water. See—I was right. She didn’t even notice me!
“Oh, dear.” Sierra looked flustered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a guest.”
Colt made the introductions, then asked for the lunch special.
“I’ll have the same, please.” Leah had to admit that Sierra was making up for her earlier rudeness by being especially attentive now. She quickly brought an extra glass of water to the table, and apologized again for her oversight.
When they were alone once more, Colt’s expression turned serious. “About last night—I want to apologize.”
“Really, for which part? For hitting on me like I was one of your buckle bunnies? Or running for the hills once you found out I had children?”
He grimaced. “When you put it that way…”
“Maybe you were judging me because you figured out Jackson and I got married because I was pregnant?”
Colt looked truly miserable now. “God, no, I wasn’t judging you. I’m the last—” He turned his head away and drummed his fingers on the table as he searched for the right words to say. “My Uncle Josh likes to say that if you want to be successful in life, figure out what you’re not good at, and don’t do it.”
Leah had to smile. That sounded like something her father might have said.
“And what I’m not good at is kids. And responsibility. I’m not like Ace, or my father, or my uncle—I don’t know why. I just was born with…something missing.”
Did he really believe this crap? No one knew better than Leah that people weren’t born with the ability to be responsible parents. She certainly hadn’t been mentally prepared to be a mother when Jill was born. She’d loved barrel racing and she’d enjoyed the travel and meeting new people. Settling down hadn’t been in her plans, at all.
But now that she had Jill and Davey, she was grateful for how her life had worked out. She had a feeling that Colt wouldn’t understand, even if she tried to explain. Best to keep things simple between them.
“I get it. You don’t want to be involved with a woman who has children. And you’re probably right. We were always best at being just friends.”
“Right.” Colt didn’t sound convinced, however. The look he gave her was rather pensive, in fact.
Sierra arrived with their food then, and she set the fragrant plates in front of them. “Hope you enjoy. Let me know if you need anything else.”
For a few minutes Leah and Colt ate in silence, though Leah couldn’t remember when she’d last had such a small appetite. Then Colt put down his fork.
“Everything you just said makes perfect sense. But you have to admit…we did have something there for a bit, didn’t we?”
Leah didn’t dare reply, or look up from her food, because she’d been thinking the exact same thing.
Chapter Four
After lunch Colt dropped Leah back at her place. He watched her walk away from him, her long dark hair swaying from side to side with each stride. She gave him a final wave before getting in her truck to drive back to her mother’s.
He ought to be pleased with how the day had gone. He’d made his apologies and atoned for his rude behavior by helping Leah move into her new home. They’d cleared the air between them, and agreed that they were better off staying just friends.
But he didn’t feel pleased. He felt…restless and a little, well, unhappy. The feeling wasn’t a new one. But it was becoming more pervasive. Used to be he’d have a couple of good weeks, maybe even a month, when he’d be happy to be back home after a series of rodeos. Now it didn’t seem to matter where he was…he was always wishing he could be somewhere different.
Colt drove back downtown to the post office. He parked, then reached for the stamped envelope he’d put in the glove box earlier. He could have set up automatic payments with his bank, but he got some satisfaction out of this monthly ritual. He went to the drop box on the wall of the post office, hesitating for a moment, then releasing the letter into the capable hands of the U.S. postal system.
He liked knowing that in a couple of days the letter, with his handwriting, would be sitting on their kitchen counter. Tangible evidence of his existence.
Colt returned to his truck and headed back to the ranch. He wished he could feel enthusiastic about something. Anything. Spending time with his family, working with the horses, checking in with Uncle Josh on the cattle side of their operation. But he didn’t.
The source of the problem went back twelve years. His father had still been alive then, and Colt had considered going to the old man for advice. But the timing had been bad. Ace had just been accepted into veterinary college and their parents had been so pleased. So Colt had kept everything to himself, and done what had seemed to him to be the right thing at the time.
Only ever since then, and especially in the last few years, he’d started to wonder if he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
Last night Leah had said something to him about being proud of her decision, of knowing she’d done the right thing.
And that was the crux of his problem, Colt realized. He wasn’t proud. In fact, he was damned ashamed.
* * *
THE DAY HAD TURNED unseasonably hot, almost eighty degrees Colt figured, as he strode across the pasture looking for Midnight. He could feel the prickle of sweat under his hat, and thought longingly of a swim in the family’s pool.
But first he needed to talk to his mother. She hadn’t been in the house, so the office in the barn was his next guess. He figured he’d say hello to Midnight on his way.
The stallion and Fancy Gal were grazing laconically in the shade of an aspen grove. As soon as Midnight spotted him, he snorted and tossed his head. Almost as if he were trying to say hello.
“You are one fine-looking animal,” Colt said as he drew closer. “And no, Fancy Gal, I am not speaking about you.” He gave the mare a friendly scratch on the side of her neck and when she nuzzled up to his shoulder, he laughed.
“You know what I have, don’t you?” He pulled the AB Horse Treat out of his shirt pocket and broke her off a piece. The rest he offered to Midnight.
The stallion was more stand-offish than the mare. He thrust his head back and glared at Colt with his dark brown eyes, before condescending to take the food.
Once he had the cookie, though, Midnight backed off. He munched through the treat in no time, then gave Colt another look. This time Colt felt as if the animal were pleading with him. And not for another cookie.
“What do you want, Midnight Express?” Colt didn’t think he was projecting his own emotions on the animal, when he sensed a certain restless longing in him. Maybe he should find out more about Midnight’s history and see if there were clues to why he wasn’t settling in more easily.
Colt left the horses, then made his way to the equestrian barn. “Mom, you here?”
“In the office, Colt.”
He found her behind the large oak desk, glasses settled halfway down her nose, frowning at the adding machine. “Darn thing just keeps making mistakes today.”
Colt noticed several of the filing cabinet doors were open. Some of the papers had spilled onto the scarred plank floor. He bent over to pick them up. “What’s this? Some kind of cash-flow statement?”
“It’s a condition of our bank loan. We’re supposed to send them these reports every quarter. This one is due at the end of the month.”
Colt couldn’t have asked for a better lead-in. “Well, interesting you should say that, Mom, because I was just talking to someone who’s setting up a new bookkeeping business in Roundup and she’s looking for clients.”
His mother peered at him over the top of her glasses. “Go on.”
“The… Well, the woman is Leah Stockton. Do you remember her?”
“Sure do. She and Cheyenne Sundell were the competitors to beat back in Dinah’s barrel racing days. She used to ride that beautiful paint.”
“Country Girl,” Colt recalled. Leah’s horse had not only been a beauty, but she’d also been light on her feet, too. He’d never seen a horse make tighter turns around a barrel.
He moved toward the whiteboard on the wall where they kept track of the rodeo bookings for the bucking stock. “Looks like a busy schedule.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it isn’t too busy. If our breeding program is as successful as Ace thinks it could be, maybe we could afford to slow up a little next year.”
“In the meantime, it seems like a smart idea to get you some office help. You know, Leah doesn’t barrel race anymore. She has two little kids to support.”
“I did hear about that. She married some cowboy she met at the Calgary Stampede, but they ended up divorced. Her mother is pretty upset about it.”
“Well, that’s life. Bad things happen.”
“Unfortunately that’s true.” His mother glanced at the papers scattered over her desk, then frowned again at the adding machine. “Does Leah have any experience doing books for a ranch?”
“I’m not sure. But she does have an accounting diploma so she must know something.”
“I suppose I could give her a chance. Lord knows I’d be happy to spend less time in here.” She glanced at the far wall, where a couple of shelves held some of her children’s and even a few of her husband’s rodeo trophies. “Give her a call and see if she can make it here for Monday morning.”
* * *
LEAH EXPECTED settling the kids to sleep that evening in their new bedroom would take longer than usual. She’d done her best to make the small room feel like home. They’d unpacked toys together and she’d hung many of the pictures from their old rooms in Calgary, including several of their dad. The twin beds were made up with Davey’s Thomas-the-Train and Jill’s Dora-the-Explorer comforters.
They’d already had showers and brushed their teeth in the new bathroom. Now Leah asked them to put their dirty clothes in the hamper, then climb into their beds. As they scampered around the room collecting socks and underwear, her phone chimed.
She pulled it out of her back pocket and saw a text from Colt.
Mom wants to meet with you about the job. Tomorrow good?
Leah smiled, then slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Who wants to read Melanie Mouse’s Moving Day?”
“I do!” Jill went to the large wicker basket where they’d unpacked their books and pulled out the well-worn picture book.
“Me, too.” Davey scrambled up beside his sister, leaving room in the middle for Leah. She accepted the book from Jill, glad she’d had the foresight to buy a hardcover, since they’d been reading this story a lot lately. Neither one of the kids seemed to get tired of it. Usually at the end came lots of questions, which Leah patiently answered, over and over. Her children had been through many changes with the divorce and the move and she wanted them talking to her about their feelings, not bottling them up inside.
Today, though, Jill had a new question for Leah.
“Why couldn’t we stay at Grandma’s house, Mommy? She wants us to.”
“Well, when I was a little girl, like you, I lived with your grandmother, because she was my mom. But I’m an adult now. And once you’re an adult, you’re too old to keep living with your parents.”
“I won’t ever be too old to live with you,” Jill said.
“Me, too,” Davey said, giving her a fierce hug.
“You can stay as long as you want,” Leah promised.
“But if we left, would you cry like Grandma does?” Jill asked.
This was news to Leah. “Did you see your grandmother cry?”
Jill nodded. Davey leaned in close and whispered. “She was sad.”
“Really?” Leah swallowed, feeling some tears of her own welling up. “We’ll have to give Grandma lots of hugs and kisses the next time we see her so she’ll be happy again. Just like this—” Leah put an arm around each of her children and took turns kissing one, then the other. Soon, they were tumbling on the bed and giggling.
Which wasn’t exactly calming them down for sleep.
But she didn’t want them going to bed sad, either.
She decided to read them another book, a silly, fun book by Dr. Seuss, and then finished with the classic Goodnight Moon, which the children read to her since they knew it by heart.
“I love you, peanuts. Sleep well.” She gave them final kisses, pulled up their covers, then left the room, door open, night-light glowing.
She would have liked a little time to relax with a cup of tea and the latest episode of The Good Wife, but she still had her own bed to make and clothing to unpack. She was crossing the hall when her iPhone rang. She answered quickly, not wanting the chime from Modern Family to wake the kids.
“Hello, Mom.” She fought to keep her tone friendly, even though she was upset at her for crying in front of the kids. Her mom had been a big help since she’d moved back to Roundup. And she did appreciate that. But her children needed less drama in their lives. Not more.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you this earlier, Leah, but Jackson called the house today.”
“Really?” She hadn’t heard from her ex in over a week.
“He wants you to phone him back.”
“Did he talk to the kids?” They hadn’t mentioned anything, so Leah would be surprised if he had.
“No. They were napping, so I never thought to mention it.”
It shouldn’t have been up to her mother. Jackson should have asked.
“Leah, you will call him back?”
“Yes. I’ll dial him on Skype tomorrow morning so the kids can talk to him, too.”
“Maybe it would be better to call him tonight while they’re sleeping. So the two of you can have a private chat.”
“Mom, there is nothing private to be said. The divorce is final. Our only connection now is our children.”
There was a long silence. Then her mother said, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Colton Hart helping you with the move today, would it?”
“Mom, no! I haven’t seen him in years. We just happened to run into one another at the Open Range last night.”
“Is that where you stormed out to? I thought I could smell stale beer on your clothes when I put them in the washer.”
Oh, my Lord. Give me patience. Her mother was making her feel like an adolescent again.
“Yes, Mom, I went to the bar for a few drinks last night.” Leah opened the black garbage bag that held her bedding and pulled out her sheets. She pressed the speakerphone option, then set the phone on her nightstand so she could start making up her bed. “I am thirty-two, remember? And since I know you’re about to ask—no, there is nothing romantic going on with Colt and me.”
Not anymore, there wasn’t.
“I’m relieved to hear that. The Harts are a good family, but everyone knows Colt is the black sheep.”