by Jill Kemerer
Dylan Kingsley made her heart beat faster, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.
Erasing the cowboy from her mind was her last hope. If she only knew how...
Chapter Ten
“Refill your vaccination gun.” Friday afternoon, Stu wiped his forehead and pointed to the ancient flatbed truck where coolers and supplies were ready. Dylan nodded and loped over there, grabbed the medicine and refilled it the way Stu had shown him earlier that morning.
The sun was scorching. Several local men and women had joined them for a day of branding and vaccinating. Since his lassoing skills weren’t on par with Stu’s other regulars, he’d gotten the task of giving the calves their shots. He’d been focused on the task for hours, even though thoughts of Gabby kept trying to distract him. She’d let down her guard Saturday night, and he’d actually come through for her. He’d been reliable, dependable.
It had been easy. He’d been in the right spot at the right time. The thing was, he wanted to be in that same spot for a long, long time.
“What are you waiting for?” One of the men yelled to a teen, shaking Dylan from his thoughts.
The pen where he was standing held calves separated from their mamas. Dust, loud mooing and thunderous hoofbeats filled the air whenever one of the crew chased down the next calf. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The calves appeared no worse for wear, either. As soon as each one was done, it trotted off to join its friends like it hadn’t been poked with a needle and had a symbol burned into its flesh.
“We have about ten head left, then we can eat.” Stu waited with the branding iron in his hand for the next calf to get dragged over.
Dylan prepared to inject another one. At first it had scared him—what if he poked the wrong spot or the calf kicked him?—but he’d quickly gotten the hang of it. In the three weeks he’d been working for Stu, he’d seen two dead calves out in the wild. He wanted to do whatever he could to make sure the rest of them lived.
They finished taking care of the remaining animals, then opened the pen so they could return to their mamas. Everyone packed up quickly and headed over to the old bunkhouse where a few ladies from church had organized a meal to celebrate the day.
Dylan stopped in at his cabin and washed up before joining the rest of the crew. After filling his plate with pulled pork, cheesy potatoes and cookies, he found an empty table and tore into his food. Stu and two elderly women Dylan had seen in church sat with him.
“How are you liking Rendezvous, Dylan?” The white-haired lady in jeans and a patchwork short-sleeved shirt watched him with an expectant air. “I’m Lois Dern, by the way. I’ve seen you in church with Gabby.”
“Good to meet you, Lois.” He nodded. “I like it here a lot.”
Stu’s toothpick bobbed twice.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Gretchen Sable.” The brown-haired woman he guessed to be in her late sixties had understanding eyes. “I hear you’re Phoebe’s uncle.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He polished off a cookie.
“Gabby is wonderful. A natural with the baby.” Lois stared at him as if expecting a reply.
“Um, yes, she is.”
“And she’s so helpful,” Gretchen said. “We think the world of her.” Well, that made two of them. He thought she was pretty special, too.
“Do you plan on staying in the area long?” Lois asked.
“Um...” He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t. Not as things stood at the moment.
“I have to warn you, though, Dylan,” Gretchen said in between bites of a potato chip, “Gabby refuses to date cowboys. If she’d loosen her stance, I’d set her up with my nephew Judd immediately. Have you met Judd?”
Dylan glanced at Stu for help, but he shrugged, lifting his hands as if to say you’re on your own.
“Yes, I have met him. He’s a good guy.”
“He is. The best.” Gretchen smiled. “So if she won’t consider Judd, she probably won’t—”
“Nonsense, Gretch.” Lois crumpled her napkin. “Gabby might not be attracted to Judd.”
“Not attracted?” Gretchen’s cheeks grew pink. “What are you saying? Judd’s ugly? Because I know better.”
“Don’t twist my words. I’m just saying you’ve had your heart set on Judd and Gabby together, but neither of them seems all that interested in the other. Admit it.”
“Only because she refuses to date cowboys.”
“If he liked her, he’d ask her out and keep asking her out until she said yes.” Lois picked up her napkin once more and dabbed at her lips.
Gretchen glared at Lois, then turned back to Dylan. “Are you enjoying working on the ranch?”
“I love it. Stu’s a great boss.” At least he could answer one question truthfully.
“You’re a good worker.” Stu cocked his head. “You should stay on permanently.”
Permanently? His chest swelled. He’d like nothing more than to stay here.
“I appreciate it, Stu,” Dylan said. Every day on the ranch was like being at the best summer camp imaginable. Sure, it was hard work, long hours and physically demanding. But it was also peaceful. He could hear himself think when he rode out on Jethro. It drove away the sensation of constantly having to move on.
He had a feeling he’d been trying to find an honest day’s work his entire life.
And he’d found it.
Here.
“I’ll have to think about it.” He met his boss’s eyes. Stu nodded.
“Are you going to the Fourth of July parade, Stu?” Gretchen asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I heard through the grapevine you aren’t going to be riding in the parade this year.” Lois leaned in. “Understandable with Josiah gone. Why don’t you watch the parade with us? We get our chairs set up bright and early to get our spots. I’ll tell Frank to set up one for you, too.”
“You don’t need to go to trouble on my account.” Stu flicked a glance at Gretchen.
“It’s no trouble,” Lois said.
“Come with us,” Gretchen said. “We know it hasn’t been easy losing your best friend.”
“You can come, too.” Lois turned to Dylan. “Unless you planned on sitting with Gabby.”
“Uh...” He didn’t know what Gabby’s plans were, and he hadn’t thought about going to the parade. Hadn’t really thought about the Fourth of July Fest at all.
“Well, if you don’t, I’m sure Cash McCoy would be happy to sit with her.” Lois leaned back and shrugged. “He’d probably be fine taking her to the festival afterward, too.”
“I’ll take her.” The words shot out of his mouth. He did not like the idea of that smarmy Cash guy hanging around Gabby and the baby. “That is, if she wants to go.”
“She’ll want to go. You know, this town has a lot to offer.” Lois stared at him hard. He squirmed. Why was he squirming? “Rendezvous is a nice place to settle down.”
“If only Nolan wasn’t buying the inn...” Gretchen made a tsk-tsk sound.
“He’s not for sure buying the inn,” Lois said. “But if he does, my guess is she’ll put up with his nonsense for a while...but not forever.”
He’d all but forgotten Gabby was worried about her job. He let out a small groan. He’d spent Monday and Wednesday evening with her, and she hadn’t mentioned a thing about Nolan.
“Isn’t there anyone else who wants to buy it?” Dylan watched the ladies. Both of their faces fell.
“Unfortunately, no. And Gabby would never mention it, but we’ve done the math, and there aren’t many opportunities for her here.”
Gabby had said something similar a while back. His nerve endings splintered. It wasn’t fair of him to keep her in the dark. He needed to do something.
Yeah, and that something is to tell her the truth and get Phoebe’s trust fund and chil
d support set up. Stop being so selfish!
Selfishness had prevented him from taking Sam’s calls. And selfishness was stopping him from doing the right thing now. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t simply hand Gabby some papers with a don’t worry about money.
He owed it to her to tell her the truth. He just didn’t know if he had the courage to go through with it. Not when his life was finally starting to make sense.
* * *
“I might have another buyer!” Babs shuffled the papers on her desk as Gabby sat down after her shift ended on Friday.
“Are you serious?” Gabby’s heart leaped to her throat. If someone else bought Mountain View Inn, Nolan couldn’t, and she wouldn’t have to work for the control freak. “Please tell me you’re being serious.”
“I’m being serious.” Babs’s green eyes twinkled under her heavily mascaraed lashes. “It’s a silent buyer, or I’d tell you who it is.”
“A silent buyer?” Was that good or bad? Did it mean she might be able to keep her job? Her palms grew clammy thinking about it.
“Yes. Dorothy called a few minutes ago to let me know.”
“What does it mean? Will they send someone out to see it? Will I get to meet them?”
“Wish I could tell you, sugar, but I don’t know.” She shrugged. “As soon as I hear something, I’ll tell you.”
Gabby sank back into her chair. It was good news, yes, but new concerns came to mind. “What if Nolan makes an offer first?”
“He might. If he does, the other buyer could put in a counter offer. My gut tells me if Nolan was in a hurry, the papers would already be signed. You know him. He needs to analyze it to death while he throws his weight around for a while.”
Unfortunately, she did know and agreed with the assessment.
“Want me to watch Phoebe so you can go to Fourth of July Fest with your hunk?” Babs scribbled something on a paper.
“What?” She should have prepared herself for this. She knew how Babs’s mind worked. “He’s not my hunk. And I don’t know what I’m doing yet.”
“He’s a hunk. You can admit it.”
Gabby rolled her eyes. Dylan was a hunk—but she didn’t need to fan the matchmaking flames Babs enjoyed kindling.
“You know I’m right.” Babs pulled a tube of lip gloss out of her purse and ran the wand across her lips. “Anyway, I’d love to take the little butterball off your hands on Saturday. Just let me know.”
“Thanks, Babs.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
Gabby could feel her neck warm. “Oh, the usual. Pizza.”
“You’re not telling me something.” Babs gave her a shrewd look and pointed the tube at her.
“Dylan is coming over to see the baby.”
“So it’s a date.”
“It’s not a date.”
“It’s a pizza date.”
“It’s not a pizza date.”
“Gabrielle.” Babs gave her a long, intense stare. She never used her full name. It reminded Gabby of getting scolded. “I had forty-one wonderful years with Herb. We went on adventures together. We bought properties and started businesses. He thought I was the best thing since sliced bread—of course, it helped he was color blind—I don’t know many men who could handle my loud style. We were happy. And I miss him more than I ever thought possible.”
A lump formed in Gabby’s throat. Herb had been a great guy. Babs’s bright, over-the-top personality had dimmed in the two years since he’d passed.
“I want you to have the same thing.” Her voice softened. “I know you have your whole cowboy rule, but from all accounts, Dylan seems to be a decent guy. At least give him a chance. I want you to find your Herb.”
“I want to find my Herb, too, Babs.” And she did. “I didn’t realize how much until Dylan arrived.”
“See?”
“It’s not what you think, though.” She tried to find the words. “Having him around helping with the baby made me see how nice it could be to have a partner in life. And I would like for Phoebe to have a daddy. But I’m not ready for all that yet.”
“Not even with Dylan?”
“Especially not with Dylan.” She couldn’t go there. It was too scary. She didn’t know him well enough. What if he was laying the groundwork to get her to trust him? And then he showed his true colors? If she allowed herself to care about him, her heart could get smashed into bits. “It would be too complicated, with him being Phoebe’s uncle.”
“I don’t know about that. Just be open to the possibilities, okay, hon?”
“Okay.” Her heart had been teetering closer and closer to falling for him, but could she risk it?
“Now, let’s get out of here.” Babs pushed her chair back. “Did you put Stella on the night shift this weekend?”
“I did. She needs the experience.”
“I just hope she doesn’t flirt too much. It wouldn’t do us a lick of good if she starts batting her eyelashes at a married man.”
Gabby laughed. “Don’t worry, she uses her flirting energy for good-looking younger guys. I think she has a radar for them or something.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Babs strolled with her down the hall. “Have fun on your pizza date.”
“It’s not a—”
Babs laughed. “Sure, it isn’t.”
“Call me as soon as you hear anything from Dorothy.” Gabby waved to her as she exited the building.
“Will do.”
Would a silent buyer be like a silent partner? Running the inn from afar? Letting her do her thing? She hoped so. It would be a dream come true.
The only thing better would be to own the inn herself, and that wasn’t ever going to happen.
Gabby crossed the rear parking lot to her car. After unlocking it, she climbed in and stared at the distant mountains for a few moments.
Babs and Herb had been a power couple, and they’d adored each other. Herb had supported Babs’s business ventures. He’d been her emotional rock. Gabby had meant it when she’d told Babs she wanted to find her Herb.
She rubbed her chin. The problem was she needed to be in control—of her job, her life and the baby. Any man who wanted to be with her would have to accept her independent nature.
Did a man exist who could handle the full Gabrielle Stover? Dylan seemed to check all the right boxes. But would he try to change her? Or, worse, find someone on the side to fill in the gaps? She turned the key in the ignition. Her heart was already too drawn to him. Anything other than happily-ever-after would crush her. But life was short, and time was moving fast. Should she take a chance or play it safe? She’d have to figure it out soon.
Chapter Eleven
“I mixed it up this week.” Dylan opened the box of pizza in Gabby’s kitchen that evening. He’d had a lot to think about since eating with Stu, Lois and Gretchen earlier. After showering, he’d sat on his front porch and pondered his life. And when Gabby came to mind, which she did almost instantly, he’d wondered if he was putting too much importance on money. Why was he assuming she’d be mad when he told her he was rich? “I swapped the sausage for bacon. What do you think?”
“I think my stomach is growling, and it smells exquisite.”
Phoebe was strapped into her high chair and happily working on bites of cantaloupe and tiny pieces of soft bread. Her mouth was a gooey mess as she grinned at him. He patted her head. “Hey, smiley, you’re enjoying those, aren’t you?”
Gabby yawned, covering her mouth to try to hide it, but failing.
“Long day at the office, huh?” He noticed her eyes weren’t as animated as usual, and bags had formed under them.
“Not really.” She slid a slice of pizza onto her plate.
“Are you nervous about Nolan buying the inn?” He mimicked her movements and joined her at the table with thr
ee slices on his plate.
She’d just taken a big bite, and she nodded as cheese stringed between her mouth and the pizza. Holding up her index finger, she finished chewing.
“Yes, I’m still worried, but I did hear some good news today—well, it might be good news.”
“What’s that?” He ignored his pizza for the moment to take her in. Her hair fell down her back in messy waves. Her hot-pink T-shirt had a scooped neck, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a circle charm.
“Babs might have another buyer.”
His muscles involuntarily tightened. “Oh yeah?”
“I can’t say anything beyond that, but anyone would be better than Nolan.” She quirked her head to the side. “I’m realistic, though. Even if someone else buys it, my job isn’t secure.”
Dylan bit into the top slice. He’d never had to worry about job security.
“Do you have a backup plan?” he asked.
“Me?” She touched her chest, grinning. “You clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with. I have backup plans for my backup plan.”
Another thing he admired about her.
“The problem is none of them are all that good.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“I could get my insurance license and work for an agency here in town.”
He continued eating as he listened.
“The power company sometimes needs people, but the only jobs that come up on a regular basis are maintenance. It would mean being on the road and a lot of physical labor.”
He tried to picture her—strong, yes, but with delicate features and a petite frame—out working on power lines. He didn’t see her enjoying it.
“The other option is to move somewhere else and manage another hotel.”
Move? Somewhere else? He attacked his food a little too forcefully. He liked it in Rendezvous, and she did too. But if she moved, there would be no point in him living here.
Why had he assumed life could—or would—stay as it was?
If Gabby moved, it meant no more playing with Phoebe. No more Friday night pizzas. No more picnics and Rockies games and all the things he was beginning to look forward to. No more racing pulse whenever Gabby was near. No ranching, no community, no life.