“You can’t do that by yourself?” Trent said, figuring there was more to Jimmy’s request. “You wouldn’t be doing some branding now, would you?”
Jimmy’s wry grin confirmed Trent’s suspicion.
“Nope. No way.” Trent peeled off a glove. “You know how much I hate branding.”
“Well, me, too.”
“Yeah, too bad. Talk your dad into breeding horses.”
“Come on, Kimball. We’ll hit the Watering Hole afterward. All the beer you can drink on me.”
“Nope.” Trent bent over to pick up Mutt’s water bowl. He liked Jimmy, and he even felt for the guy. Growing up on a ranch in a place as isolated as Blackfoot Falls with limited skills, his options were few. He could end up staying on the family ranch for the rest of his life.
“Holy shit. Who is that?”
Trent didn’t have to turn around to know who Jimmy meant. “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll be coughing up flies for a week.”
Jimmy finally closed his mouth but he didn’t move, just kept staring. “Come on, who is she?”
Trent turned, curious whether Shelby could see them. She was standing on the porch wearing her normal work clothes—tight faded jeans, ripped in several places and a white T-shirt. This one wasn’t as snug as some of the others. But it didn’t hide anything, either.
“That’s Shelby,” he said, still not sure if she’d seen them. “Quit staring like a jackass.”
“Is she yours?”
“Jesus.” Trent laughed, shook his head. “You have about as much chance with her as you have of getting me to help you brand calves.”
Jimmy patted down his curly blond hair. It had a tendency to stick out. Like now. “Call her over. Introduce us.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, kid.”
Shelby shaded her eyes and searched the cloudless sky. Hoping to spot a hawk, he imagined. She loved watching them wheel and soar. Occasionally she’d catch sight of an eagle, and get as excited as a five-year-old on Christmas morning. She stepped off the porch and went straight for the double-wide.
Seeing her got Mutt up and moving. Tail wagging, he chased after her. She stopped to pet him, noticed them standing in the shadow of the barn, and waved.
Jimmy responded with a raised hand and a flushed face. “Don’t just stand there. Ask her to come over here,” he grumbled.
Trent had been hoping she wouldn’t, but it was better than her knocking on Violet’s door. He let out a breath when she walked toward them.
“Hello,” she said, smiling at Jimmy and then glancing at Trent. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Nah, I came to do some arm-twisting,” Jimmy said, all teeth.
Shelby grinned. “Is it working?”
“Not with the rotten mood he’s in.”
“Oh, I thought it was just me.”
Holding in a curse, Trent looked at Mutt’s water bowl and remembered he was supposed to fill it. “Shelby, this is Jimmy,” Trent said, gesturing. “Jimmy...Shelby. I’m going back to work.”
“Wait.” Shelby caught his arm as he turned. “Where’s the circuit breaker?”
“You blew a fuse?”
“I’m sure I just tripped it.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Trent muttered, annoyed that he’d caught a whiff of her. She had no business smelling this good while she was making her jewelry. Her scent was the equivalent of an earworm. It would stick with him for the rest of the day. Shit. How was he going to hold it together when he’d have to smell her, see her, every day for three months.
“Um, you should probably show me where the box is located.”
He cleared his throat. “So, you trip fuses a lot?”
She ducked her head. “I wouldn’t say a lot...”
“Shoot, I’ll show her where it is,” Jimmy said with a sly grin for Trent. “I know you’re busy.”
“If you still want help with the vaccinations I’ll have time later. Tomorrow I’m leaving at first light and I’ll be gone all day.” He felt Shelby’s eyes on him. Probably because he hadn’t mentioned he was going anywhere. Not that he needed her permission.
Jimmy sighed. “Still a no on the branding, huh?”
In answer, Trent grabbed the pitchfork he’d left against the wall and with the bowl, headed toward the back of the barn. A second before he was out of earshot, he heard Jimmy ask, “So, have you been to the Watering Hole yet?”
* * *
SHELBY WISHED SHE knew what was bothering Trent. She’d narrowed the list to two possibilities, neither of which she wanted to bring up. Though if he regretted agreeing to a grace period, she needed to know pretty quick.
The movers had phoned to make a delivery appointment. Thankfully the call had gone to voice mail while she was showering. She still hadn’t made up her mind. Did she let them bring her belongings? Or tell them to store everything?
Storage would be the obvious choice if Blackfoot Falls had an adequate facility that allowed her access. The hardware store owner kept four containers in his storage barn available to rent. She’d checked, but they were all taken.
Getting her hands on the deed to the Eager Beaver wasn’t an issue. At least in terms of taking possession of her things. She already knew all she had packed away was her grandfather’s will.
Since it was getting late, she poured herself a cup of decaf, then glanced out the kitchen window. No Trent. No Violet. Not even Mutt was in sight. As far as she knew, Jimmy had left as soon as she’d gone back to work.
In spite of herself, she wondered where Trent was going in the morning. He hadn’t said, though he had no reason to tell her anything about his schedule, or his life. Especially if the point of leaving tomorrow was to get away from her.
Three evenings ago, after the call from her mom, he’d wowed her with his compassion and insight. The next day? Boom. He’d become a completely different person.
He hadn’t been rude, not even all that grumpy. The change was more subtle than that. He’d seemed almost...detached. A couple of times he’d mentioned fall was a busy season, and while she didn’t doubt it, she recognized it was also an excuse not to engage with her.
“Hey...” The man in question strolled into the kitchen, surprising her since she’d assumed he was outside.
She saw his gaze zero in on the coffeemaker. “It’s decaf.”
He made a wry face.
“Columbian decaf. It’s good.” Oh, damn, the coffeemaker was his, and she was tying it up. She set down her mug. “I’ll make a fresh pot.”
“No, that’s okay.”
She was already opening the upper cabinet where he kept the mugs, coffee and sugar.
“I shouldn’t stay up late, anyway.” He lightly touched the small of her back as he reached around her to grab a mug.
The contact startled her, made her clumsy. “Right.” She almost knocked over her coffee trying to slip out of his way. “You’re leaving early.”
“I can wait, head out around nine-thirty,” he said, concentrating on his mug. “If you thought you might wanna go with—” He shook his head, frowned. “I’m saying this backward.”
She didn’t care. She’d heard the important part. What a relief he wasn’t upset with her... “Go where?”
“Have you thought about renting a booth at the county fair?” He turned to face her and must’ve noticed she was confused. “To sell your jewelry.”
“Huh. The fair?”
“I know you want to set up an online business but you mentioned festivals are a good place for the style you make. So, why not at a fair?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been... I thought a county fair would be about livestock and baking contests.”
Smiling, he nodded. “It is. But there are also crafts on displa
y and for sale. Afraid I can’t be more specific.” One corner of his mouth lifted a bit higher than the other. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to one, myself.”
She had to stop staring and concentrate on what he was saying. The sudden knowledge that she’d been starved for that smile unnerved her. Gathering her wits, she thought for a moment. A flutter of excitement flickered in her tummy.
“Yes, I want to do it.” Her mind raced, collecting and cataloguing, as she started to pace. “I don’t have too many pieces ready but I can— Wait. When is the fair? I can’t remember. How long does it run?”
Trent was leaning against the counter, mug in hand, watching her with a curiously warm smile. Nothing like the slightly lopsided grin from a minute ago. His eyes had darkened so much they might’ve been brown instead of gray.
He straightened and sobered. “I should’ve said before getting your hopes up. It starts in a week, runs for three days but they might not have any booths left. Rent is cheap and people tend to snap ’em up. But I have a string or two I can pull.”
She nodded, digesting the information and thinking back to her trip to town. The fair had been the main topic of conversation. “Only if it’s not too much trouble.” She kept her expression blank, not wanting any hint of disappointment to show. “Really. No big deal if it doesn’t work out.”
“It’ll be big to me. You’re really excited.”
“I am,” she admitted, and grabbed her mug, mostly to have something to do with her hands. “It would take a lot of preparation, so if it doesn’t fly, no harm, no foul. Okay?”
“Tomorrow I’m going to see a guy about a horse he wants trained and then go have a look at a colt I’m thinking of buying. If you’re interested in going with me, we can stop in town on the way back and see about signing you up for a booth.”
“Tell me what time and I’ll be ready.”
“How does nine sound?”
“I can be ready earlier.”
“No, nine is fine. It gives me plenty of time to feed the stock and hitch the trailer. I’ll even buy you breakfast.”
Shelby let out a squeak of joy that sounded entirely too obnoxious and loud.
Trent reared back, frowning and chuckling at once. “What was that?”
“Eating out. Someone else cooking. I’m totally in.” She paused, hoping she hadn’t given him the impression she resented making meals. It was only fair, after all. “Can I ask you something?”
He didn’t look too keen on it. “Go ahead.”
“When I broke off my engagement, it wasn’t on a whim or because I didn’t get my way or—”
“None of my business,” he said, cutting her short and shaking his head. “I haven’t given it a thought.”
“I know, it’s just that you haven’t been yourself and since you’re divorced and that might be a touchy subject...” She watched him dump the rest of his coffee in the sink and rinse the mug. Dammit, she hadn’t meant to chase him away. Why had she even... “I thought you were angry with me.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, pausing to look her in the eyes. Then walked out of the kitchen.
She’d give anything if she could take back what she’d said. She’d never been this clumsy and awkward around anyone. So why Trent?
* * *
THE MORNINGS WERE cold enough for Trent to wear a jacket when he fed the horses at sunrise. Hard to believe when the daytime temperatures had been hovering well above normal. Since they’d be gone until late afternoon, he’d suggested to Shelby that she dress in layers. Not like she was going bobsledding.
He glanced at her, bundled up in a puffy down coat, sitting on the passenger side of his truck. “Didn’t you say you lived in Denver most of your life?”
“All of it. Until a week ago.” She turned to look at him. “Why?”
She’d wrapped a blue scarf around her neck and over her head and ears so that all he could see were her eyes and nose.
He chuckled. “I can adjust the heater.”
“No, thanks. I’m very comfy.” She pulled off one mitten and picked up her to-go mug of coffee. She’d prepared one for each of them and filled a thermos, even though he’d assured her they were only driving a hundred miles, give or take.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “I know for a fact Denver gets downright frigid at times.”
“Yes, it does.”
“It’s still September, Shelby.” He divided his attention between her and the road. “Look at you.”
“What?” She glanced down. “I need an adjustment period between seasons,” she said with a defensive lift of her chin.
“Okay. I meant no offense.”
“I know.” She sighed. “This coat and the mittens came out of the emergency kit I keep in my trunk. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left,” she murmured and stared out the window.
He was more than happy to drop the subject. He didn’t want to hear about her departure, or her engagement, or whether she was second-guessing herself. It was difficult enough thinking about his own situation. Now that he knew the ranch was his—according to Violet, at least—he’d been hard-pressed to think of anything else. The whole reason Shelby was coming along this morning was to get a booth at the fair. He didn’t know what kind of money she expected to make selling her jewelry, but he figured either she’d earn enough to help her move on or she’d find out Blackfoot Falls wasn’t a good place to set up shop.
Trent sure didn’t want to regret bringing her along. The other day he’d learned too much about her, then said too much. Neither of them needed to forge a bond. It would make everything harder in the long run.
He was weirdly grateful they’d already agreed to the three-month grace period. Even so, he knew the news that she didn’t own the ranch would crush her. He understood about last chances and chasing dreams.
Dammit, thoughts like those were exactly what he was supposed to avoid. If they were going to live together for three whole months, he had to stop thinking about her life and her dreams, and put all his energy into his own.
So what did he go and do? Put himself in a truck with her for a long drive. He’d like to think his offer was inspired by his good nature and had nothing to do with Jimmy chatting her up yesterday. The kid was too young for her. And even if he wasn’t, Trent didn’t care what she did.
“Oh, shoot.” Her gaze was fixed on the dashboard clock. “I forgot to call the movers.” She pulled off the other mitten and fumbled inside her coat pocket. “They called yesterday for a delivery appointment.”
“How much stuff do you have?”
“Not a lot. My apartment was small.”
He told himself to keep his mouth shut. Shelby was a grown woman. Let her figure out what to do. He checked the Exiss in the rearview mirror, mostly out of habit. The trailer was empty and it might well be returning empty. Deciding to bring it had been a tough call. He hoped it didn’t make him seem too eager about buying the colt. Though this wasn’t Dallas. He knew the Landers family and they’d ask a fair price.
Glancing over at Shelby, he saw the cell in her hand. She was staring at it and giving her lower lip a workout.
None of my business, he reminded himself and went back to concentrating on the road ahead.
A few silent minutes passed.
“The spare bedroom,” he said wanting to kick himself. “And the equipment shed behind the barn. They both have extra room. The shed is solid, waterproof and airtight.”
She blinked at him, then frowned slightly. “How far away is Kalispell?”
“A little less than an hour from Blackfoot Falls. Tack on another twenty minutes from the Eager Beaver.”
She thumbed the small keyboard on her phone. A few minutes later she shook her head. “I still can’t get online.”
“Service will be spotty for th
e next couple of hours. You should be able to make a call, though.”
“I need to know what I’m going to tell them first.”
Okay, so she didn’t like the spare-room-and-shed idea. Good. Made things simpler.
“What about when we stop for breakfast? Can I get online then?”
“Probably not. The place I have in mind is ten minutes out. There’s a diner and a gas station, that’s it.”
“Well, that’s just crazy,” she muttered. “How can anyplace not have decent internet in this day and age? Have people not heard of satellites?”
Trent grinned. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, darlin’.”
She raised her brows at him. “Darlin’?”
“At least I didn’t call you sweetheart.”
She let out a disgusted sigh. But he saw the small smile before she looked down at her phone. He thought she’d found a local cell tower, but she didn’t call until they’d parked in front of the roadside diner. Instead of heading in, she told him she’d be along in a minute and wandered off to a private spot.
So she didn’t want him to hear her conversation. Fine. As he’d told himself a hundred times, none of his business.
Let her have her secrets.
After all, Trent had one hell of a doozy of his own.
10
AS THE TRUCK bounced along the rough, pitted road Shelby stared at the ranch they were approaching. It looked like a small village. There were far more buildings than she could account for with her limited knowledge of ranching.
She was about to ask Trent what they were all for when he turned onto a paved driveway and drove under the elaborate wrought-iron archway announcing the Castle Ranch. Elm trees turning gold and red lined the seemingly endless driveway. The terrain was hillier than at the Eager Beaver and well-maintained.
“Wow, it’s pretty out here.” She twisted around to watch a pair of beautiful white horses galloping, the epitome of grace and beauty. “Is this all one ranch?”
“Yep.”
She saw the main house. Who could miss the gorgeous, sprawling Tudor-style home with all the natural stone and glass? The sloping manicured lawn that surrounded it was impossibly green.
Harlequin Blaze June 2015 Box Set: Midnight ThunderFevered NightsCome On OverTriple Time Page 47