Cutter Mountain Rendezvous

by Barbara Weitz

  Eva stirred sugar into her tea. “She’s got your stubborn streak. I couldn’t even get her to taste strawberry shortcake the other day.”

  “I’m not worried about it. She eats plenty of good things. What I’m worried about is today’s phone call.”

  “To think. Tom Cutter’s bones could be down in the ground under this table.”

  Kate laughed. “You’re not helping here. Do you think the call was a hoax?”

  “It seems fishy. Why have his assistant call? Or why call at all? Why not just hit you with a legal notice?”

  “Mom! You’re not taking this seriously.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I wish you’d talk to your father about it.”

  “I called Dad today. He cut me off.”

  “Now, Kate.” Her mom paused a moment. Translation: don’t be a spoiled brat, yada yada. Kate had heard it a million times. Good daughter that she was, she let her mom finish her sentence. “When are you going to stop butting heads with him? Give him a chance. He loves you and is as concerned about you two being out here alone as I am.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, we don’t like that you’ve settled up here on top a mountain without neighbors. And you feel it too or you wouldn’t carry a gun. Don’t deny it, Kate.”

  “I’m comfortable with guns, and it seems a good deterrent should I need one to scare off a curious bear. Besides, there’s a Corps of Engineer office and a park ranger’s cabin within two miles. Not to mention I’m twenty minutes from town. This is a perfect spot for an inn. I love it here.”

  No way would Kate tell her mom she had seen the lean form of a short man poking around her discarded construction pile in the dead of night. It had been a fluke to see the intruder. She had gone into Lindsay’s room to kiss her sleeping daughter when the outside lights popped on. Usually that meant deer. Not a surprise visitor.

  “You could have lived with us,” Eva persisted. “We’ve plenty of room.”

  The real reason finally emerged. Her parents wanted to spoil Lindsay and tell Kate the things she did wrong as a mother. “I want to be independent. Who knows if I’ll ever marry again?”

  “Ridiculous,” her mother huffed, and they slipped into idle gossip while drinking their tea.

  A half hour later, Eva went upstairs to say goodbye to Lindsay. When ready to leave, she and Kate went silent as they stepped into the foyer and saw Colton’s door closed.

  “Don’t look in the front windows off the porch,” Kate whispered. “After today, I’m sure Colton will be more than willing to install the blinds I bought.”

  Eva laughed and stepped outside. “I might like what I see.”

  “Mom!”

  “Come on, Kate. It’s fun to have a little uproar now and then. He’ll be gone in a few days, and you’ll be bored. Ogle him while you can.”

  “I’d say you’re doing enough for the both of us. Besides, I’ll be glad when he’s gone. He’s hard-headed.”

  “Crocketts have a history for being hard-headed. Did you know that?” There was an impish glitter in her mom’s green eyes when she leveled them on Kate.

  “I do.” She grinned back and closed the car door.

  “One of you has to give, Kate. And I can tell you from experience it won’t be your dad.”

  “I’ll call him. I promise.”

  “Good. I’ll grease the wheel. He loves apple pie, and I do believe I’m in the mood to bake one.”

  Kate laughed as she waved goodbye. She hoped she would still be smiling when she faced her new boarder over the dinner table.

  Chapter Six

  After telling her mother she didn’t intend to “ogle” Colton, Kate found herself making covert glances. Lindsay stood next to him absorbing his lesson on the proper way to season a steak.

  He wore a clean pair of baggy shorts with loose ties flapping around his knees and a faded jean shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Sandals replaced his boots. He hardly presented a picture of wealth and celebrity.

  “Medium? Raw?” he asked and caught her gawking.

  “Medium.” The words rushed out too fast as she fumbled to hand him a tongs from the counter. He didn’t seem to notice he put her off balance. She grimaced. “No blood, please.”

  “Hear that, Half-Pint? Pink in the middle.”

  “Can I cook ’em?”

  “No way. You’ll stand far behind while I tell you my secrets for grilling a perfect steak.”

  “You have secrets?” Kate teased.

  “A few. How about you?”

  “A few.”

  The same mischief she had seen the first time they met atop Cutter Mountain darkened his topaz eyes before he turned to catch up with Lindsay. Kate gripped the edge of the counter as the back screen door closed. She wouldn’t call him drop-dead handsome, but pretty darn close. His face had character with eyes that could mesmerize, and a jaw her plastic surgeon ex might consider too strong. The single dimple took away the sharp edges as did his sincere, ever-ready, oh-so-sexy smile. The rest of him pretty much went without flaws.

  Lindsay’s high-pitched voice drifted into the kitchen. Her daughter was determined to follow his every move and ask twenty questions, which he answered with both patience and good humor. Impressive. And no swears. She smiled.

  In no time, the back door slammed and Lindsay came skipping into the kitchen. “Colton said the steaks are perfect.”

  “Tell him to bring them in.” Kate quickly sprinkled chopped egg, tomatoes, green onion, and croutons over plates of romaine. A cruet of homemade salad dressing of balsamic vinegar, spices, honey, and olive oil was set on a red dish on the print tablecloth. Cheerful bunches of cherries were scattered across a white background, a bridal shower gift she used regularly now that she lived in the country.

  The back screen opened amid happy voices. It was music to her ears. Kate made a quick assessment of the table and pulled a shallow red casserole dish filled with the oven potatoes and set it on a wooden trivet. Lindsay’s chicken nuggets were cooling on her plate.

  “Looks and smells great.” Colton set the large red platter of two steaks on the table.

  “Cola or iced tea?”

  “Iced tea. Where is it? I’ll pour.”

  “In the left frig.”

  “I give services too,” he said in a low voice as he passed behind her.

  Flustered, she found herself at a loss for words. She might not have trouble disagreeing with him, but play? This was foreign territory. Marriage to a man too serious for his own good gave her little experience at verbal play with the opposite sex. Especially in the world he confined her.

  They sat and Colton made a skillful cut of tender pink steak for Lindsay. “Here, try this. I dare you to tell me it’s not perfect.” He held out his fork.

  Lindsay eyed the small steak piece, and let Colton put it in her mouth. Kate’s own fell open then shut.

  “Well?” Colton asked

  “I like it.”

  “You want more.”

  “I’m full.” She looked at him shyly.

  “Okay. But you know what this means?” He raised a questioning eyebrow Lindsay’s direction, and she shook her head. “You’re my official taster. It’s your job to make sure I grill it perfect every time. Can you do that?”

  A nod made Colton drop the subject. “Good girl.”

  While Colton romanced her daughter into eating a piece of beef no one else in the family had managed, he also warmed Kate’s heart a couple of degrees.

  Tinkerbelle eased into the room and took wide berth around Colton. Kate frowned. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that crazy cat. He usually likes men.”

  “He? I thought Tinkerbelle was a girl.”

  Lindsay giggled. “I called him Tinkerbelle when I was little.”

  “You’re still little, honey.”

  Kate saw Colton slip a cat treat from his pocket and drop it on the floor near his foot. Treats he must have pilfered from her pantry. The corners of her mouth qui
rked up. It seemed the cowboy’s ego had taken a blow by the family cat. Then she imagined he wasn’t used to anything or anyone turning up their nose at him.

  How unexpected it was to be having fun. It replaced the initial dread at his showing up at her place this morning. Not that she would let him know she entertained such a thought. His head might explode.

  As they ate, Lindsay’s endless questions helped Kate learn that Colton had been playing ball since he was old enough to hold a bat. From T-ball to Little League to high school and college where he was drafted straight into the majors by the Arizona Diamondbacks, bypassing the minors. Kate didn’t know much about baseball, but she figured if the Diamondbacks drafted him out of college, he was no slouch on the pitcher’s mound.

  When it was time to clear the dishes away, Kate encouraged Lindsay to watch one of her favorite movies. “Thanks for putting up with Lindsay’s constant chatter. She’s smart like her father and needs to know everything about everything.”

  “Maybe she’s smart like her mother,” he said in all seriousness.

  “More iced tea?” Kate turned her attention to the sweaty tea pitcher. He lifted his glass, the warmth of his fingers brushing hers when she took the glass. Kate felt a strong enough connection that her gaze faltered when she looked up to see him staring at her.

  Even if she was interested, which she wasn’t, he would be the last type of man she would let her heart court. Another self-absorbed rich charmer would not get past her barriers. Once they got what they wanted, their true nature was exposed. In Kate’s experience, that meant a brooding, unpredictable mean streak.

  Her self-esteem had taken enough hits. Next time around, she would find a man who didn’t usurp her every decision or want to change her body parts. A man who understood a woman also had dreams and goals that she needed to reach to feel worthwhile.

  ****

  Colton enjoyed Lindsay’s endless questions but was relieved Kate was tuned in enough to realize he wanted time to talk to her. There were things about her that didn’t add up.

  Bobby told him she was a songwriter yet not once had she mentioned it. Nor did he see a guitar or piano anywhere. “What’s your story?”

  “Me? There’s a boring story.”

  “How’s that?”

  She shrugged. “Just is. I guess I did well enough in school. Like you, I went to college, but I certainly don’t have the brain power of Lindsay’s father. He’s a well-known, highly respected plastic surgeon from out East who settled into a practice in Nashville.”

  “Reconstructive or lipo and boobs?”

  Lindsay darted through the kitchen to grab her Barbie coloring book off the kitchen desk. “Mommy doesn’t want new boobies. She likes hers like an old tree.”

  Kate sucked in a breath. “Lindsay!”

  Colton stilled. Lindsay was gone in a flash and his chest jiggled in an effort not to laugh out loud. And God help him, there was no way on earth he could keep his eyes from landing on Kate’s chest and the green sweater that showed off her modest figure and brought her green eyes to life. He rested his forearms on the table. “An old tree?”

  Kate snickered. It made something he couldn’t define scamper through his heart. “I have to tell you. I thought I’d heard it all but that one went way over my head and straight out of the park. Care to explain since you’re as red as the casserole dish?”

  She blew out a breath. “Long story. Trey and I had several fights over, uh, enhancement. Lindsay must have heard, and she questioned me about it. When I tried to explain I liked mine like God made them. Um, like nature, and in particular a tree—an obvious poor choice of words—oh, I don’t know. None of this is coming out right.” Fanning herself with her napkin, she pushed back from the table to clear away the dishes.

  “Unique,” Colton said to her back. “Each person is different in their own special way. That’s what you were trying to say. That you like being unique.”

  Setting the dishes in the sink, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “What a perceptive and correct way to say it. You surprise me.”

  “Why? Because you think I’m a jock without a brain? You’d be surprised the range of useless information I can recite. So I take it Doc Crockett does cosmetic surgery.”

  “Yes. Except his name is Doc Benson, and he’s in L.A., doing his best to make every woman who steps over his threshold look the same on their way out. You have no idea how much Botox and silicone implants there are out there.”

  “Oh, I do.”

  “Ego, ego.” She flashed him a teasing grin. “If you’d like dessert, there’s peanut butter cookies in the cat jar. Help yourself while I check on Lindsay.”

  ****

  Glad to escape the uncomfortable conversation and image of how many women Colton had to feel up to make such a statement, Kate found Lindsay content in the living room.

  When she heard the cookie jar rattle, she was glad he intended to stay. She wanted to tell him about her phone call. The kitchen table always provided the right spot to talk through anything that was bothersome. Seeing him comfortable in his seat, she took a chance and sat down. The dishes could wait a few minutes.

  She took a big breath. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

  “As long as it doesn’t include my confidence factor. That’s what makes me unique.”

  “I’m beginning to believe you.” Kate took a sip of her iced tea. “I’m worried I’ve a problem with the property.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Late last night, I saw someone take discarded construction materials from that junk pile outside.”

  “Is that why you were wearing the sidearm?”

  “Partly. Bears are real this time of year. Then, after you arrived, I had a strange call about Tom Cutter.”

  “The hermit on top of old Cutter.”

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m a natural-born wiseass.”

  “So I’m learning.” Kate went on to tell him about her strange call. “I’m not sure if it’s a prank or if the incidents are even related.”

  “I’ll give my lawyer a call in Chicago. Have him check out this Bennett Field character.”

  “I don’t want you to call your lawyer in Chicago. I’m handling it. Besides, I don’t know if it’s for real.”

  “He’s the best damned lawyer in Chicago,” he said in such a way she envisioned him waving a carrot in front of her face.

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’m not sure why I told you. I’ve probably blown things out of proportion.” Boy, she’d heard that told her more than once. Now grumpy with men in general, she snapped, “What’s with you men, anyway? Thinking a woman can’t think for herself.”

  When she pushed up from the table, he joined her and helped with cleaning the kitchen. “Hey, I know women can think for themselves. My own mother made sure of it. And I know there are women who want to keep their maiden names these days. I get it. I’m trying to be helpful, so don’t get pissed.”

  “Mouth,” she warned with a side glance. “I don’t want you to fix it. I wanted your opinion so I can fix it.”

  “At least let me run it by him and see what he thinks. There might not even be a Bennett Field.”

  “You don’t understand. This is my problem. You’re just like my ex. Control freaks with no mind to hear out the woman’s point of view. I can fix it myself but I need to talk it through. Male fixing is not listening.”

  “Sure it is. It’s what we do best. Fix things. That’s not being a control freak,” he said and eyed the steak knife she waggled to make her point. “Really, Kate, you’re about as threatening with a knife or a gun as Bambi with a howitzer.”

  “Don’t push me.”

  “Okay. I’ve listened and here’s what I think. Granted, the call was unusual but I’d ignore it for now. Kids hang up the minute you ask for an adult or sooner. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on the construction pile. I’m guessing a kid sneaking building
materials for a fort.”

  No families lived closed enough to make that assumption. Nor would she believe a kid would steal late at night. Two kids maybe, but not one. But that wasn’t what made her stop in the middle of the kitchen with a dish in her hand. “That’s it. Ignore it? That’s your advice?”

  “That’s what I’d do.”

  “What? No lengthy dissertation or rebuttal with several plausible reasons for the call or why I brought this upon myself?”

  “They’d be guesses at best.” Genuine confusion clouded his face. “I thought you wanted an opinion, not an argument.”

  “I did.”

  “Then you’ve got it. By the way, thanks for a great dinner. I really enjoyed yours and Lindsay’s company. It was a nice change of pace.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Tomorrow night’s my treat since I missed buying you lunch today.”

  “We’ll see. I’m the innkeeper here.”

  “You’re not officially open, and this isn’t exactly a normal stay at an inn experience for me. Why don’t you put the food away, and I’ll keep loading the dishwasher,” he suggested.

  “Do you cook?”

  “A little. I’m better with take-out. Better yet, eating out. Still I make dirty dishes. I’m not sure how.”

  “Maybe you should get married.” She said it in a helpful manner, knowing she had sugarcoated her curiosity to uncover his relationship status.

  “I’m not the marrying kind.”

  “Surely, you have a steady girlfriend.”

  “Nope.”

  “So what you’re really saying is you prefer playing the field.”

  “I’ve been around,” he said with a flash of white teeth.

  Kate held up her hand. “Spare me the details.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t kiss and tell. And I don’t sleep around like I once did. I’m no saint, but I’m not a damned bum either. Listen, I think it’s time to call it a night. Thanks again for dinner.”

  Their nice evening came to an abrupt end. Kate hadn’t meant to pry with directness but she had come to expect his retorts, sure he would bite on her baseball analogy and his playing the field. She slumped into a chair. Seemed his self-proclaimed natural-born wiseass persona had limits when questions dug too deep for comfort.