“Drop by and see Ma,” Bobby said over his shoulder. “She’s been asking about you.”
“Tell her I’ll come by soon.”
Colton couldn’t take his eyes off Kate as she sashayed her way to the truck with digging steps. Gravel spit his direction before she burned rubber down the highway.
Bobby shook his head. “Kate’s had a lead foot ever since gettin’ her driver’s license. No one would believe her dad’s County Sheriff. She’d race through town just to git under his skin. ’Course, he was jest a deputy back then.”
Colton leaned on Bessie’s fender. “What’s Kate doing that she needs carpentry?”
“She thinks she’s going to run one of those bed-and-breakfast places. Now I ask you, does Kate look like Beulah?”
He considered Kate’s tight jeans that molded a cute little ass that swung with her ponytail as she high-tailed it to her truck. “Guess not.”
Beulah fit the bill for the motel and cafe she owned. She was round. Jovial. Smelled like apple pie. Kate left a whiff of summer in the air that made a man’s mind wander to places best left in Chicago. That is if you could look past her perpetual scowl most likely brought on by a husband. One that took the Lexus and made her drive the truck.
****
By the time Kate returned to her cabin, the sun had burned the heavy dew from the grass.
She sat on the top step of the front porch eating an apple, balancing a can of primer in the other hand. Aggravated she hadn’t thought to buy edging tape, she squinted to read the tiny print of the instructions.
Another trip to Bear Creek past Bobby’s garage was out of the question. She would wait a few days until the ballplayer Bobby thought the sun rose and set on was gone. Plenty of other things needed to be done. Like tighten the screws on the sagging screen door, and call Frank over in Walland about the finish carpentry.
Tires on gravel made her look up.
The paint can about slipped from her hand when Bobby’s black Dodge truck pulled in the drive. She swore under her breath. The driver was the ballplayer who wasn’t a cowboy or a carpenter.
She stayed put while he took his sweet time getting out of the truck. When he did, she hated being impressed as she watched him stretch his tall, muscular frame. “You buy Bobby’s truck off him?”
“It’s a good deal, don’t you think?”
“Only if it takes you back where you came from.” Why that made the cowboy grin was beyond her. But, oh that dimple she didn’t want to notice and caught her eye. He oozed more charisma than a tent preacher. “What can I do for you?”
“Bobby says you have a room I can rent until my truck gets patched up?”
Her jaw clenched. It would take some getting used to everyone in Bear Creek knowing her business. When she was a kid, it didn’t matter. As an adult, it was downright intrusive. “Nothing you’d want to stay in.”
“To tell you the truth, I’d appreciate a floor after a night on Bobby’s couch.”
“You slept in his trailer? How come?”
“Beulah’s was filled up. The other places too. If folks can find your cabin, you’ll have a gold mine.”
“They’ll find it. You did.” She looked down at his boots as he hiked one foot up on her porch step. They were expensive. Of course. Why would she think otherwise? By the time she met his gaze he was staring at her, his topaz eyes dark with a hint of challenge.
He stuck out his hand. “We didn’t formally meet. Colton Gray.”
She set down the paint can and pitched the apple to brush her hands on her jeans. She gave him a firm, businesswoman’s handshake. “Kathryn Crockett. Folks call me Kate.”
“Sorry about the misunderstanding.”
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t say anything. You mistook me for someone else.”
“Your omission was a lie.”
“Lie’s a strong word,” he said with a glint of tease in his eye and leaned a hand into the porch post. Kate’s pulse raced fast as a rabbit. She would have never accused her ex of lying. “Come on, Kate. Give me a break here.”
“I doubt you need a break. Where you from anyway?”
“Chicago. I had my dad’s old truck out for a spin and just kept going until she broke down.”
“Bobby said you’re a ballplayer, so why you out joyriding instead of playing ball?”
“Injured.” He turned his head to gaze out over her yard. “Where exactly am I?”
“Cutter Mountain.” She made note of his quick change of subject as he studied her property. “Tom Cutter was a frontiersman in these parts. Bear trapper. You were up on Cutter Lookout and the lake behind my place is Cutter Lake.”
“Seems like Tom did well for himself.”
“Except for selling his bear pelts, he was a hermit. His one-room log cabin lies in shambles about a mile from here.”
“Nonetheless, he has a whole damned mountain named after him.”
“I guess he did.”
Colton shifted on his feet. “Bobby tells me my truck is down for the count. Even if he can get parts it will be a couple of weeks before its fit to drive back to Chicago. I need a place to stay. You need help. How about we make a deal?”
“As I said, I’ve got nothing you’d be interested in.”
“How about you let me be the judge of that?”
She blinked. “No disrespect, but you’re a stranger.”
“You intend to rent out rooms to strangers but me you won’t because you don’t know me? Honey, that ain’t gonna fly. You’ll go broke in no time.”
“Sorry, the inn’s not open for business. Besides the room doesn’t have any furniture.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“What part of no furniture didn’t you hear? Plus, I’ll need a reference. I don’t care whether Bobby knows you or not.”
“Call Judge Ludlow if you need a reference. I had breakfast with him this morning at Beulah’s. He’ll put in a good word for me. I signed a baseball for his grandson.”
“From Bobby’s couch to breakfast with Judge Ludlow is quite a leap, granted. But see, here’s the thing, I’m not set up to take charge cards yet. This would have to be a cash deal.” If that didn’t run him off, she didn’t know what would.
“Sure, no problem.”
She blew out a breath. “I give up. Come on in the house. I’ll give you a cup of coffee while I make a phone call.”
“Bless you.”
“Don’t bless me yet. I do intend to check you out. I don’t care if you’ve fraternized with the whole town of Bear Creek.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Kate.”
“You’ve no idea, cowboy.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve been known to be downright headstrong,” she told him of her former self and felt a prickle of pride.
“Must be the red hair. It has a reputation you know.”
“Auburn.” Didn’t men know auburn from red?
She had to admit his being a known athlete did play to his advantage. The mere knowledge of it put her at ease. Bobby knew baseball. He would never send a stranger to her place in his precious truck if he didn’t trust the guy. Not that she’d let Colton know. Nor would she tell him her dad, not Judge Ludlow, would be getting her call.
She yanked on the screen door with two hands. “Door sticks. Loose hinge.”
“Screen doors are my specialty. Unless there’s a Mr. around the house to fix it.”
“Divorced.”
Her exchange with Colton Gray represented her first grab at getting her feisty nature back. The one Cousin Jeff suggested she recapture. How nice it felt from the doormat she’d become married to Trey Benson. It was a cruel awakening to realize he saw her as a clean palette on which to sculpt an obedient trophy wife with no regard for her music. Talent she now doubted.
****
Colton sized her up as he followed. He figured she was of average height. The addition of a flannel shirt over her T-shirt blocked view of the shapely derrière he saw this morning.
/> Once inside, he made cautious steps over the oak floors with fresh vanish and stopped. “You sure this floor is dry?”
“Positive.”
“You plan on holding square dances in here? Don’t believe I’ve seen an entry that goes clean through the house. Where do the stairs lead?”
“Three bedrooms and three baths. That’s where the real work needs to be done. That’s my place to your left. This entry and everything to the right is new construction. The idea came from Hermitage House, where Andrew Jackson lived near Nashville. I love that house.”
“Where’s my room?”
“Now that’s downright presumptuous, cowboy.”
“Here?” He reached for the door to his right, cracked it open a couple inches, and stepped inside a large room with the same oak floors and pale peach walls. Two floor-length windows faced the large covered front porch. The side window framed a weathered barn. “Nice.”
“Thank you. And no furniture, you’ll notice.”
“You did hear me say I slept on Bobby’s couch last night, right?”
“I heard. I just didn’t believe.”
“Believe it. That floor looks like heaven.” He moved through the room and into the bathroom with sparkling fixtures. “You’ve got to know I’m salivating over that shower.” He turned to see her frowning at him. “Can I shower while you call Judge Ludlow?”
“Hold up on those plans I see flying around your head and follow me. I’ll need you to dig out your driver’s license.”
“You wouldn’t be related to Davy would you?” He pulled his wallet from a back pocket.
“Possibly.”
“Damn. I had a coonskin cap when I was a kid.”
“Walt Disney was the marketing genius who started that trend. It was so successful he tagged the coonskin cap to Daniel Boone when that series started. Boone probably never wore one in real life.”
Colton listened to Kate as he trailed behind her and admired her furnishings. It was high-end mountain decor with a timeworn river stone fireplace. Rustic oak floors held thick deep burgundy rugs with Indian designs. Much like out West.
Kate had a few bucks. That or she had a sweet divorce settlement.
They walked into the large kitchen, and he made a low whistle. Granite counters, light cherry cabinets and professional chef-quality kitchen appliances. He knew about these things after spending months with a decorator on his place back in Chicago. “Two refrigerators and two dishwashers?”
“I’ll need them if I have a full house,” she said while pouring coffee into large yellow stone mugs. “That two-story foyer is twenty-five foot wide by fifty foot deep. I intend to make it into a communal sitting and breakfast area. Cream? Sugar?”
“Both.”
She opened one of the refrigerators and poured fat-free half-’n-half into an old-fashioned cut-glass cream pitcher. Peanut butter cookies were arranged on a yellow plate from a cat-shaped cookie jar and set out with the coffee on a round pedestal table painted a pale yellow with dark green placemats. “Sit. I’ll go make a few calls.”
She disappeared up a staircase that ran behind the refrigerator wall with her coffee mug. He reached for a peanut butter cookie. They were homemade. He ate two more in the cozy kitchen, silent except for the hum of the appliances and her voice off in the distance.
He eyed a Barbie coloring book and crayons at the other end of the table and reached across a bowl of fresh fruit to grab it. Kate had a kid? Unbelievable.
Something rubbed up against his leg. “Jesus.”
The chair scrapped the floor as he gave his booted foot a swift kick. A large gray cat yowled and headed up the staircase with its tail straight up in the air. A small bell tinkled from the cat’s collar.
“Sorry, puss. How about telling your owner to shake a leg.”
He pulled a pink crayon from the box.
The name Lindsay was signed at the bottom of a colored picture. Cute. The kid autographed her work like a pro.
Chapter Four
“Meow.” Tinkerbelle wound around Kate’s ankles. She reached down to pull the heavy cat onto her lap and listened to her dad’s amused tone.
“You’ve a celebrity under your roof.”
“Never heard of him.” She ran her hand over the cat’s soft fur. His body vibrated beneath her touch before he bolted away. “Never cared much for baseball. He said he’s injured. Do you know the particulars?”
“No. Some kind of accident. Don’t recall the details.”
“Do you think its okay to rent him a room?”
“Why not? You wanted to be an innkeeper. An idea your mother and I aren’t wild about.”
Kate felt the sting of his disapproval much like Cousin Jeff. More pressure she didn’t need at the moment. “Just once have a little faith in me. I have to be able to support myself down the road.”
“Get back to your roots, Kate.”
“What do you think this is about?”
“You know what I mean. You had the sense to leave Trey. Start writing again. Nothing’s holding you back but yourself at this point. The inn’s a diversion.”
“The inn’s my livelihood. You and mom need to accept my decision.”
She hung up. There was no way to go back and recapture the momentum of ten years ago. Too much had changed in the music industry. Life changed, and the inn was her effort to get things back on track to prove she could make sweeping changes by reinventing herself.
Why couldn’t he encourage her instead of throwing in a dig to undermine her already shaky confidence? Neither of her parents understood the price she paid to set aside her dreams to be a good wife and mother.
Between Cousin Jeff and her dad’s comments, then Colton’s surprise to her aversion to rent to a stranger, she found herself wondering if an inn was a safe environment for Lindsay.
She wandered aimless around her bedroom to stall.
Let the famous ballplayer wait.
Grabbing a hairbrush, she smoothed her hair back into a ponytail. She examined her fingernails, too long to play guitar. Mostly, they needed a manicure.
One good cleansing breath and she headed down the steps to the kitchen. If Mr. Rich Britches thought he would bulldoze his way into a room with his wallet, she was about to show him she ran this inn.
Kate entered the kitchen to find his broad shoulders hunched over Lindsay’s Barbie coloring book. His face brightened with a smile that could melt paint off walls. Her pulse fluttered in response.
“Got bored. Hope Lindsay won’t mind.” He read her name off a picture she had colored. “How’d I check out?”
“You didn’t come up on any predator databases, if that’s what you mean.”
“I could have told you that.” He put a blue crayon back into the box and set them on top the coloring book.
Conflicted about renting him a room when she didn’t feel organized made her push for cash, sure he would refuse. Then she would be helpful and find him a room in town. “How does two hundred a day cash in advance sound?”
His eyebrows shot up. Scuffing back the chair, he stood staring down at her with his hands on his hips. “For a floor?”
“Uh, that includes three meals.” Oh man! What made her say that? She let his looming height intimidate her. Not to mention it was a haul into town to eat the simpler meals.
“Fair enough. How about I write you a check?”
“You wanted to pay with cash and that’s fine with me.”
“Did you call Judge Ludlow?”
“No. I called my dad. He’s County Sheriff.”
“But Judge Ludlow can tell you I’m good for a check.”
“Why? Because you’re some hotshot ballplayer?”
“Ah, honey, that’s a low blow. But, yeah, I’m some hotshot ballplayer.” He opened his wallet and stuffed in the driver’s license. Eight hundred dollars was pulled out and slapped on the table. “That leaves me ten dollars and change. You want to see that too?”
Kate swallowed the lump in her
throat. “How about I take six of your eight and hold as a deposit. I’ll return anything you don’t use up.” She leaned in to take the money, her flannel shirt flapping open.
He clamped a loose hold around her wrist and let go as fast. His hands went back to his narrow hips. “You always wear a gun under your shirt?”
“It’s legal.”
“Oh, right. This is the mountains. Rifles and fishing rods in gun racks mounted on the back of good ole boy trucks.” He hummed a bar from Deliverance. In tune, she noticed. This man was a living, breathing menace.
“You’re in Tennessee not Georgia. We’re simple mountain folk.”
“Whose women pack firearms?”
“I don’t wear it all the time but I’m out here alone with Lindsay so I’m cautious. Bears wake up in spring. I’ve shot a rifle since I was twelve and handguns since I was eighteen. Don’t worry. I can shoot straight.”
“Seeing as I paid cash, feel free to keep your gun holstered.” He nudged the stack of bills with his finger. “Do you have a towel or sleeping bag for the floor tonight?”
“I’ve a rollaway. Linens. Towels. Soap, too.” She widened her eyes in an expression she hoped mimicked mock surprise. In reality, she felt hot and itchy after negotiating the money. She made herself hold her ground and picked up six hundred, leaving two on the table. He snatched it up and jammed it haphazard into his wallet.
“Can you give me fifteen minutes to get things set up?”
“I’ll help. Where’s the rollaway.”
“Mr. Gray, this is an inn. Your six hundred dollars entitles you to deserved services.”
“Deserved services?” A corner of his mouth curled up as he scratched the stubble on his jaw. His topaz eyes glittered with tease as he ran a seductive look over her. “Let’s see. How about you stand guard outside the shower door with your gun to keep the press away from me and dry my back. Does that qualify as deserved services?”
Kate found she was holding her breath. Heaven help her. Colton Gray could liquefy her bones just pretending she was desirable. She hadn’t felt sexy or desirable in years. Must she carry a sidearm to get noticed? “You a comedian, cowboy?”
Cutter Mountain Rendezvous Page 3