Unless she drove home tonight.
There she was, calling Ford’s house home, again.
Maybe it wasn’t Ford’s house so much as it was Ford. Could that be it? Possibly. She was drawn to Ford in a way she’d never been to anyone before. Ever.
Suddenly she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Walking quickly back to the house, she penned a short note to her aunt and uncle, threw her stuff back into her bag, and hurried out to her car. She’d be home by midnight.
~~~
Lolli lay on his chest, snoring, her potbelly moving in and out, and Jack cuddled in the crook of his arm, his purring having died down to an occasional snort and start a long time ago, when Ford’s phone beeped with the driveway alert.
His phone was still in his hand. Morgan had never texted him back, and he’d already said more than he should have. The words were in his heart, but they should have stayed there and not jumped out his fingers.
He lifted it up, punching the buttons that would bring the video up. Squinting, he sat up, interrupting Lolli’s snoring and starting up Jack’s purring again.
Was that Morgan? His heart began to pump with renewed vigor, and something warm curled in his gut.
Sure looked like her car.
He gently slipped out from under the sleeping animals, laying them down on the recliner where they shifted, snuggling up to each other.
Striding to the door, he watched his phone as the car parked and she got out, tall and slim. It was her; he was sure of it. The motion-sensor light came on as she strode up the walk.
Something like fireworks went off in his chest, but what was she doing here?
The front door was not locked. It opened slowly, like she wasn’t sure it was going to. She stepped in, closing it behind her, and stood there for a moment, like she wasn’t sure what to do.
He waited. Wondering what had prompted her to come home.
Finally she moved, graceful. She set her bag on the stairs then came down the hall toward the solarium and where he stood in the deeper shadow of the hall.
She walked to the solarium door, her hand on the knob. But she didn’t turn it. She didn’t move as the seconds ticked by.
He barely dared to breathe.
Finally her hand dropped from the knob, and she started to turn.
Lolli’s whining came through the door. Then a thump and the click of her claws on the tile floor. Two soft scratches on the door.
Morgan turned back and cracked the door, allowing Lolli to squeeze through. She closed the door while Lolli threaded through her feet, her stub of a tail wagging so hard her entire body moved from side to side.
“Shh,” Morgan said. “Mr. Hanson must be asleep.”
Oh? He was “Mr. Hanson” now? Ford almost stepped out of the shadows and confronted her with that, but had she ever used his name? He couldn’t remember. And he was her boss.
She bent down, patting Lolli before picking her up. “Ugh. I think you gained a pound or two since yesterday.” Lolli wiggled her body in closer, snuggling up as Morgan stroked her.
Morgan sighed. “I lost five pounds in the past two weeks.”
Ford’s brow lowered. She’d lost weight? How? She was already supermodel thin. He couldn’t see where in the world she could have lost five whole pounds.
“Come on, honey. You can sleep with me tonight,” Morgan said softly.
She was talking to Lolli. He had to remind his heart because it shivered then jumped up and down at her words.
However, the restlessness that he’d felt earlier in the evening was gone, replaced with peace. Morgan was safe and she was back, under his roof and under his protection.
~~~
In the morning, Morgan poked her head in the kitchen, expecting to have to tell Mrs. T she was there.
“Good morning,” she called to Mrs. T’s back as she stood at the stove.
“Good morning, Morgan. You go sit down. I’ll have everything out in a jiffy.”
She hadn’t seemed surprised to see Morgan. Odd.
Morgan took her usual seat at the big, wood table, and Mrs. T came out a few short minutes later.
“I hope everything was okay at your aunt’s house?” she asked as she set a plate of eggs and toast in front of Morgan.
“They’re fine. They had a turkey to butcher, and they needed my help.”
Mrs. T snorted, setting a glass of orange juice down then folding up her tray. “You don’t really look like a turkey-butchering kind of girl.”
Morgan could laugh with her. That was true. “My friends in New York don’t know that turkeys aren’t grown in the grocery store.”
Maybe that was a bit of overstatement. They might know it, but they certainly didn’t think about it.
“You know, honey, I never asked you what you enjoy eating. Do you have any favorite foods?”
This question surprised Morgan. Normally she talked about the weather and what her joints predicted for the day. “All of your food is delicious.” That was the truth. Morgan furrowed her brows. “Why are you asking? Was there a problem?”
“Not really. Ford was concerned that you’re losing weight. He wants us to serve food that you love.” Mrs. T’s kindly old eyes looked Morgan over. “I think he’s right. You look thinner and a bit more pale than you had.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night because it was late when I got in.” How had Ford noticed that she lost weight? “But he’s right. I lost about five pounds in the past two weeks.”
“Land’s sake, child. You don’t have five pounds to lose.”
“But it’s not your cooking. The food is delicious.”
“What’s the problem, you think?”
Morgan shrugged. She wasn’t used to eating by herself, and she did feel a little lonely at meals, especially supper. But that wasn’t Mrs. T’s problem.
Mrs. T gave her another close look before patting her shoulder and starting for the kitchen. “If there’s anything I can change, you just let me know, honey. Okay?”
“I will. Thank you.” Morgan looked down at her plate, still wondering when and how Ford had figured out that she was losing weight. She hadn’t seen him yet this morning, and the house had been dark and quiet when she came in last night.
But Mrs. T hadn’t seemed surprised to see her.
Ford must have known that she came home. He must have seen her. Where was he? And why hadn’t he said anything to her?
She didn’t get a chance to ask him, since she didn’t see him all day. She read for a while in the morning but had trouble concentrating. She missed worship. Until she’d come out here, she’d never realized what a social person she was, needing the companionship of other people to connect and reenergize.
How could Ford stand being alone every day?
After lunch, she wandered into Georgia’s office, not intending to do any work but being just restless enough to have the boldness to dig around.
The bank statements were the first files she saw in the top drawer of the filing cabinet, and she barely hesitated before pulling them out. Sending a weekly financial report was on her list of things to do, so she didn’t even feel guilty for looking. They looked very similar to hers, only they had more transactions and more zeros.
Most of the transactions didn’t make much sense to her, but as she flipped through the papers and came to the miniature photocopies of the checks, she slowed and stared.
She recognized the name of a single mother her aunt and uncle had mentioned just that weekend. A significant check to the closest veterinarian. A crisis pregnancy center in Rockerton, the closest large town. An adoption agency. The church in Sweet Water.
She’d never seen nor heard of him leaving this property, but his money was spread out all over east-central North Dakota. From the size of the checks, some of those places wouldn’t be in business if it weren’t for him. Yet, her aunt and uncle, who she would have said knew all the gossip in the area, had not mentioned Ford’s financial support of the community.
Because of the nondisclosure agreement she’d signed, she couldn’t say anything. It had a very large section on his “financial” interests. Not that she wanted to spread around his personal business.
Still, she’d been away for a while, but she was pretty sure people didn’t know what Ford did for their community.
She skimmed through the rest of the statements, finding they were all similar. He supported things on a monthly, ongoing basis.
Putting the folders back and closing the file, she walked to the window and looked out on the cold October day.
Of course, she knew that Ford was more than his gruff manner and snappy irritation. He’d been patient with her, even almost laughing at times. And in the evenings, when they looked at the stars together, he’d been almost sweet.
She supposed knowing that he gave money to charitable causes shouldn’t change anything. But it made her question her assumptions—that Ford was bitter and reclusive—and made her even more curious to uncover the layers of the man whose face she’d never seen.
As she contemplated in front of the window, she became aware that there was a horse in the paddock by the barn. Two horses, actually. Skinny and swayback. She wasn’t an expert, but from the shape of their heads, they looked like old quarter horses. Very old. Their bones stuck out, but their heads were high and their eyes bright.
Really? Did Ford have more animals he was rescuing?
Making a decision, she spun on her foot and strode to the office door. Grabbing her coat, she headed toward the barn.
The barn was gloomy after the bright sunlight, and it took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the darkness. Two more horses were in stalls. Their racks were filled with hay, but these horses were old and skinny, too. It’s like Ford had started a horse retirement home. Both of them stuck their noses over their stalls, and Morgan spent a few minutes stroking each of their ears and necks and whispering sweet words to them. Their patient eyes glazed over at the attention.
Although they looked well brushed, she grabbed a curry and stepped into the stall of the first horse. How many years had it been since her aunt and uncle had horses? She’d ridden when she was young, but as she got older, she lost interest. Uncle Harry didn’t keep them around long after that because he said they were “hay burners.”
She’d forgotten how relaxing it was to brush a horse down. How companionable. And the horse enjoyed it too, stretching out as she brushed, eyes half-closed.
She had wondered what all Mr. T did during the day. Taking care of the horses must have been one of his chores.
When she finally went back to the house an hour or so later, there was an old, beat-up car sitting in the drive. Her steps slowed. Other than Sawyer, Ford hadn’t had visitors. She hoped she wasn’t intruding. She hadn’t exactly asked if it was okay that she came back, and she hadn’t seen him at all today.
Who would be visiting?
Maybe it was someone coming to see Mr. and Mrs. T.
She picked up her pace and hurried into the house. A ladder was set up in the entryway, and a young girl, in her late teens or early twenties, with her hair tied up in a kerchief, wearing jeans that had more holes than material and an oversized t-shirt, stood on it, polishing the glass in the chandelier.
She looked up in surprise when Morgan walked in.
“Oh, hey. You must be the person who owns that fancy car out there.” Her voice was friendly, and she had an easy smile. Although she was so skinny her cheekbones stuck out, there was a sturdiness about her that gave the impression the girl knew how to work.
“Yeah, that’s me.” Her car stood out like a goose in a henhouse around here. “I’m Morgan Nelson.”
She didn’t bother to hold her hand out because the girl would have to come down the ladder to grab it.
“I’m Nell Eastler. It’s nice to meet you.” She reattached the glass she’d been polishing back in place and twisted off another one. “I can’t stop and talk right now. I need to get home and feed the animals before dark. There aren’t any lights in our barn.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Don’t pay me no bother. You just go on doing what you’re doing. If I’m in your way, say so.” The girl chattered, but her hands went faster than her mouth, if that were possible.
“You’re not in my way.” Morgan moved around the ladder to the stairs. “I’m just heading up to take a shower.”
“Oh? So you’re living here?” Nell asked. Not unkindly. Just in a curious way.
Although Morgan didn’t know her or recognize her name, she liked the girl. She seemed friendly and nice with no guile.
“I’m taking Georgia’s place while she’s in Europe.”
“Georgia’s a sweetheart.” Nell fastened the glass globe back on the lamp and picked off another.
“I grew up an hour and a half east of here. You must be from the west, because I don’t recognize your name.”
“Yep. I live with my dad and stepmom and two stepsisters about an hour that way. It’s a nice spread. Small, but plenty of good grazing. It was my mom’s, but she died, and my dad remarried.” Her slim shoulders shrugged, and if a shadow fell across her green eyes, it was fleeting.
“I see.” Morgan was curious about the girl. Had she ever seen Ford’s face? She seemed a little young, but maybe Ford was interested in her? Why did she need to go home and feed the animals? Didn’t her sisters help?
But Morgan didn’t want to bother her while she was working, so she waved goodbye headed up the stairs.
Chapter 8
“Did you take my advice about Morgan?” Sawyer’s voice crackled in the air in Ford’s office. He had his phone on speaker while he watched the sunset. For some reason, he’d been concerned about his friend, more than usual, and had given him a call.
Sawyer seemed fine, relaxed and happy as usual, and Ford’s concerned call for Sawyer had turned into Sawyer interrogating him about Morgan.
He shouldn’t have bothered.
“Kind of.”
“Which means?”
“I gave her some more responsibility. We’ll see how she handles this before we go deeper.” Orange shot across the sky tinged with pink edges. Glorious.
“You know, Morgan seemed like a nice girl.”
“She is.”
“She’d be good for you.”
“Not happening.” The entire landscape was drenched in orange sparkle. Ford could never grow tired of watching the sunset.
“Right. Because you’re ugly and all that.”
Ford grunted. He’d been friends with Sawyer long enough he could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
“Did you ever think that maybe you could, oh, I don’t know, be nice?”
“I have been being nice.”
“No, you idiot. Not nice as in you give her a place to stay and throw money at her on payday. But nice as in you get her chair at the dinner table, and you laugh with her, and you give her sincere compliments, and you spend time thinking of things that you can do that will make her happy. Take a walk and hold her hand. Give her—”
“I get the idea,” Ford said irritably. “But not the point.”
“Be nice to her and she might fall in love with you.”
He gave a disbelieving snort. “It’s almost like you haven’t been around and haven’t seen people’s reactions when they see my face. There’s no way a woman will want to wake up next to this for the rest of her life.”
“Ford. You’re my best friend, so I might be a little biased, but there’s a heck of a lot more to you than your face. If a woman can’t love you in spite of it, then you know she’s shallow and not worth your time. You’ve got a built-in system to weed out the gold diggers. Unlike me. I can’t ever tell if girls are climbing all over themselves to get to me because of my good looks or if they’re just after my money.”
Ford grunted a laugh. “Maybe if you didn’t bury yourself on the ranch, you’d meet a good girl. I don’t think anyone’s going to find you clear
out there.” The sky had started to fade. Blues and pinks replaced the fiery orange. The landscape faded back to brown.
“You have a good one right under your roof. Stop being scared and practice courting her.”
“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”
“No. I’m pretty sure your idea to ice skate on the pond when we were eight and the ice was only an inch thick and we both fell through and almost died, then we both caught pneumonia...now that was a dumb idea.”
Ford rolled his eye. “Are you never going to let that go?”
“Your wedding day will be the last time you ever hear me say anything about it.”
Ford choked on a laugh. “Be careful, my friend. I’ve got a few stories I can tell on your wedding day.”
“Not worried. We just decided I wasn’t getting married anyway.”
“You decided. I have a plan for you.” Venus had appeared. Ford turned from the window.
“If it’s anything like the ice-skating plan, you’d better take it to Washington, because a politician is the only one who would fall for it.”
~~~
Did you see my surprise?
Morgan glanced at her phone, lying on the arm of the chair she had curled up in in front of the fireplace in the library after supper. She’d decided she wasn’t going to the solarium unless he invited her. She loved looking at the stars, loved the room, and, yes, loved spending time with Ford, but she wasn’t going to ruin his time if he wanted to be by himself.
Ford had a surprise?
Maybe it was the lasagna and homemade garlic bread Mrs. T had made for supper.
No?
Meet me at the top of the stairs.
She hadn’t seen him anywhere but the solarium, and now he wanted to meet at the top of the stairs? This was getting odder by the second. But she was curious enough to not worry about it.
She put a ribbon in her book and rose from her chair. Her phone buzzed before she’d made it to the doorway.
Bring your coat.
She stared at her phone. Really? Her coat? But she grabbed her coat and tried to walk sedately up the stairs, ignoring the excited racing of her heart and the twirl and dip of her stomach.
Cowboys Don't Marry the Beauty Page 9