Their Ranch Reunion

by Mindy Obenhaus

  Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was still one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. The kind that could take your breath away with her natural beauty.

  Her blond curls brushed across her shoulders as she held the door, allowing a young girl to enter first.

  Her daughter had grown quite a bit since the last time he’d seen her. What was her name? Maggie? No, Megan.

  “Hi.” The girl smiled up at him with blue eyes reminiscent of her mother’s and waved. In her other hand she held a small plate covered with plastic wrap. “We brought you cookies.” She handed them to him.

  So these were Carly’s weapons of choice. Children and food. Ranked right up there with little old ladies.

  His conscience mentally kicked his backside. Dad was right. Carly wasn’t the type to try to steal his grandmother’s house. However, that didn’t mean he was simply going to hand it over.

  While Megan wandered off as though she lived there, he set the plate on the counter and helped himself to a cookie. “Snickerdoodles. How did you know I was in need of a snack?” He took a bite.

  The feisty blonde watched him suspiciously. “What brings you back here?”

  He chased the first homemade treat he’d had in a long time with a swig of coffee. “I’m—”

  “Uh-oh.” Megan’s voice echoed from the next room. “Somebody made a mess.”

  After a moment, Carly tore her gaze away from him and started into the front room.

  Andrew set his cup on the counter and followed.

  Rounding the corner into the home’s only living space, he saw Megan pointing at the small stack of baseboards he’d begun to remove this morning. Before his plans were rerouted by Carly.

  “I was doing a little work.”

  Carly lifted a brow. “I’m not sure what kind of work it was, but you need to put those back.”

  Irritation sparked. Who was she to start giving him orders?

  “Whose is this?” Now on the other side of the room, Megan rocked back and forth in his grandmother’s glider, pointing to the duffel he’d left by the front door. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the kid nosy, but she was definitely curious. Not to mention observant.

  “That would be mine.” He turned to find Carly watching him.

  Both brows were up in the air this time. “Planning to stay a while?”

  This was ridiculous. He should not be interrogated in his own house. “As a matter of fact, I am. For several weeks. Which reminds me—” he crossed his arms over chest “—I think we need to set up a time to talk.” Glancing at Megan, he lowered his voice. “Privately.”

  Mirroring his stance, Carly said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “At least we’re in agreement about something.”

  “I’m going upstairs.” A sigh accompanied Megan’s announcement, quickly followed by the clomping of boots on the wooden steps.

  Andrew knew just how she felt.

  With Megan gone, Carly addressed him. “I’m curious. Before you learned that you were not the sole owner of this house, what were your intentions for it? I mean, were you planning to move in?”

  “Temporarily, yes. I’m going to update the place and use it for rental income.”

  Seemingly confused, she said, “Where will you be?”

  “Denver, of course.”

  Lines appeared on her forehead. “Let me get this straight.” She perched both hands on her hips. “You don’t want me to use Livie’s house for my bed-and-breakfast, yet you want to turn it into rental property?”

  “In a nutshell, yes.”

  “Why not just rent your half to me?”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like Carly. He wasn’t purposely trying to thwart her plans. But this house was supposed to be his and his alone.

  He dared a step closer. “Because, should I come back to Ouray, I want to be able to stay here. Without having to share it with someone else.”

  She shook her head. “So you’d rather pay me half of the rent money you get? That makes no sense.”

  “Pay you? Why would I—?”

  “Mommy?” Megan hopped down the stairs, one loud thud at a time.

  Carly seemed to compose herself before shifting her attention to her daughter. “What is it, sweetie?”

  The girl tugged on Carly’s sleeve, urging her closer, then cupped a hand over her mother’s ear. “We should invite him for dinner.” For all her implied secrecy, Megan had failed to lower her voice.

  A look that could only be described as sheer horror flitted across Carly’s face. Her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sure Andrew already has plans for—”

  “Nope. No plans at all.” Fully aware of her discomfort, he simply shook his head, awaiting her response.

  Clearing her throat, Carly straightened, looking none too happy. “In that case, would you care to join us for dinner?” She practically ground out the words.

  He couldn’t help smiling. “Sure. Why not?”

  Watching them leave a short time later, he knew good and well that Carly was no more excited about having him for dinner than he was about sharing his grandmother’s house. But as Grandma was fond of saying, it is what it is.

  Who knew? Maybe they’d have an opportunity to talk. And if all went well, by the time this evening was over, Grandma’s house would belong to him and him alone.

  Chapter Three

  Carly removed the meat loaf from the oven and put in the apple pie she’d tossed together at the last minute. Throw in some mashed potatoes and green beans and it was comfort food all the way. She’d need all the comfort she could get if she hoped to make it through an evening with the man who had once been able to read her every thought.

  Using a pot holder, she picked up the pan of meat and headed for the island. Nope. No plans at all. She all but flung the pan on the counter, sending spatters of tomato sauce across the butcher-block top.

  She grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess, knowing good and well that Andrew was simply trying to get her goat. And enjoying every minute of it, no doubt. Just like he did back in high school. Only she was no longer the timid girl who was afraid to stand up for herself.

  After throwing the rag into the sink, she returned to the stove to check the potatoes. Fork in hand, she lifted the lid on the large pot.

  It irked her that Andrew was planning to use Livie’s house as a rental. Why wouldn’t he just let—Wait a minute.

  Steam billowed in front of her.

  She was half owner. That meant she had a say in what went on next door. He couldn’t use it as a rental without her permission.

  Smiling, she poked at the vegetables. Yep, they were done.

  She replaced the lid and carried the pot to the sink. This whole dispute would be over if Andrew would simply agree to sell. Unfortunately, for as eager as she was to discuss purchasing his half of the house so she could move forward with her expansion plans, she wasn’t at liberty to talk business with Megan in the room. Which meant this whole evening was a waste of time.

  That is, unless her idea of plying Andrew with food actually worked.

  Holding the lid slightly off-center so as not to lose any of the potatoes, she drained the water from the pot. Maybe he’d be in such a state of gastronomic euphoria by the end of this evening that it would be impossible for him to say no when she again extended her offer.

  Dream on, girl.

  “Can I help?” Megan emerged from the adjoining family room at the back of the house, directly off the kitchen. Carly’s parents had built the addition when she was young as a private space for the family. Now Carly appreciated it more than ever, because it allowed her to keep an eye on her daughter while she worked in the kitchen.

  “Of course you can. Care to set the table?”

 
“Okay.”

  Carly opened the cupboard to grab the plates.

  “Not those plates, Mommy.”

  “What?” She glanced down at her daughter.

  “We need the guest plates.” Meaning the china she used for the bed-and-breakfast. And this time of year, guests were predominantly limited to weekends.

  “Sweetie, we don’t use those for regular meals.”

  “This isn’t a regular meal. Mr. Andrew is company, so we need to eat in the dining room with the pretty dishes.”

  Oh, to be a child again, when everything was so simple.

  Lord, help me make it through tonight.

  “Okay. Let me get them for you.”

  They moved around the corner into the dining room, and Carly retrieved the dishes from atop her grandmother’s antique sideboard. Meat loaf on china. That’d be a first.

  Leaving Megan in charge of the table, Carly returned to the kitchen to mash the potatoes. She pulled the butter and cream from the large stainless steel refrigerator.

  “Which side do the forks go on?”

  Closing the refrigerator door, Carly grinned, recalling how she used to help her mother and wondering if Megan would one day take over Granger House Inn. If so, she’d be the third generation to run the B and B. Not that she was in any hurry for her daughter to grow up. Carly was already lamenting Megan’s occasional usage of Mom instead of Mommy.

  “On the left.”

  A knock on the back door nearly had Carly dropping the dairy products she still held.

  Megan must have heard it, too, because she raced past Carly and threw open the door.

  Carly deposited the butter and cream on the counter and hurried behind her daughter. “Young lady, what have I told you about looking to see who it is before you open the door?” Not that there was much to worry about in Ouray. Still, a mother could never be too cautious in this day and age.

  “Sorry.”

  “Evening, ladies.” A smiling Andrew stepped inside, looking far too appealing. His hair was damp, and he smelled freshly showered.

  Closing the door behind him, Carly eyed her flour-speckled jeans. Clearly he’d done more primping than she had. An observation that had her as curious as it did bothered.

  “Welcome to our home.” Megan swept her arm through the air in a flourish.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” He stooped to her daughter’s level. “This is for you.” He handed her a small brown paper gift bag with white tissue sticking out the top.

  Megan’s eyes were wide. “For me?”

  “Yep. And this one—” straightening, he turned his attention to Carly “—is for your mother.”

  Carly’s heart tripped as she accepted the package. A hostess gift had been unexpected, but the fact that he’d thought of both of them had her reevaluating their guest. At least momentarily.

  “Th-thank you.”

  “Can I open it?” Megan looked as if she was about to explode with anticipation.

  “Of course. What are you waiting for?” Andrew looked like a kid himself as he watched Megan pull out the tissue, followed by a small rectangular box. “My own cards!”

  “Did my grandmother ever teach you how to play Hearts?”

  “I don’t think so.” Megan eyed him seriously.

  “Looks like I’ll have to carry on the tradition, then. Perhaps we can play a game after dinner.”

  “Okay.” Megan excitedly removed the plastic wrapping. “I can practice shuffling now, though, can’t I?”

  “You sure can.” Andrew looked at Carly again. “You can open yours, too.”

  Her stomach did a little flip-flop as she removed the tissue and pulled out a small box from Mouse’s Chocolates. “Ooo...”

  “I hope you like truffles.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “No, not really.”

  His smile evaporated and, for just a moment, she felt bad for messing with him. Then again, after the way he’d coerced her into this dinner invitation, why should she care?

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought most women—”

  “I love them.”

  The corners of his mouth slowly lifted as he wagged a finger her way. “You had me going for a second.”

  Looking up, she sent him a mischievous grin. “Good.”

  She moved back toward the island, glad she had potatoes to keep her busy for a few minutes. Was it her imagination or did Andrew’s brown eyes seem a touch lighter tonight? Like coffee with a splash of cream. Maybe it was the blue-gray mix in his flannel shirt. Whatever the case, it might be best if Megan kept him occupied for a while.

  When they sat down to dinner a short time later, Andrew surveyed the table. “This is quite the spread.” His gaze settled on Carly. “I wasn’t expecting you to go to all this trouble.”

  Again, her insides betrayed her, quivering at his praise. “No trouble.”

  “Yeah. My mommy cooks like this all the time.”

  Suspecting her daughter was attempting a little matchmaking, Carly added, “Not all the time. And we rarely eat in the dining room.”

  He glanced about. “That’s a shame. This is a nice room.”

  “Oh, it gets plenty of use with the bed-and-breakfast.” She eyed her daughter across the table. “Shall we pray?”

  After dinner, Andrew followed through with his promise and taught Megan Livie’s favorite card game while Carly cleaned up the kitchen. Not only was she surprised by his patience with Megan and the gentle way he encouraged her, she greatly appreciated it. While Dennis had been a good father, he always seemed to have more time for his work than he did for his family. A fact that had Carly practicing the art of overcompensation long before his death.

  With the dishes done, Carly joined them in the dining room.

  She smoothed a hand across her daughter’s back. “I hate to put the kibosh on your fun, but tomorrow is a school day.”

  “But I’m beating him. Please, can we finish this game?”

  As much as Carly wanted to resist, to tell Megan it was time for Andrew to leave, she didn’t have the heart. “Go ahead.”

  Fifteen minutes later, with her first win under her belt and promises of a rematch, a happy Megan scurried off to get ready for bed.

  Andrew pushed his chair in as he stood. “Think we could talk for a minute?”

  “Um...” Carly’s body tensed. While she had planned to reissue her offer to purchase his half of Livie’s house, she wasn’t sure she had the energy tonight. Then again, maybe he’d had a change of heart and was willing to accept her offer. “Okay. Let’s go out front.”

  He followed her through the living room, past the carved wooden staircase and Victorian-era parlor chairs. “You’ve got a bright kid there. She’s a fast learner.”

  Carly tugged open the heavy oak and leaded glass door. “I’ve always thought so.”

  Outside, the chilly evening air had her drawing her bulky beige cardigan around her. Moving to the porch swing, she sat down and stared out over the street. Once upon a time, she used to dream of finding someone who would sit with her and hold her hand while they talked about their day, the way her parents always had. Like she and Andrew used to do. And Dennis was too busy to do.

  Now she knew better than to dream.

  To her surprise, though, Andrew joined her on the swing. Close enough that she could feel the warmth emanating from his body.

  “This has been a full day,” he said.

  If she thought her mind was muddled before he sat down... “Yes, it has.” And she could hardly wait for it to be over.

  He stretched his arm across the back of the swing, his long legs setting them into motion as he surveyed the neighborhood without saying a word.

  For a split second, she wondered what he would do if she were to lean
into him and rest her head on his shoulder. Would he wrap his arm around her and hold her close, the way he used to? Or would he push her away?

  Feeling the cold seep into her bones, she pushed to her feet. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

  He hesitated a moment before joining her. Took in a deep breath. “I’m willing to pay you the full value of the house for your half.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Do you have any idea how much property values have risen around here?”

  He shrugged. “I can afford it.”

  His words sparked a fire in her belly. He hadn’t changed a bit. With Andrew, everything was about money. Making it, having it... Just like her late husband had been.

  Well, he’d sorely underestimated her.

  “I don’t care if you offer me a million dollars. There are some things that just can’t be bought. Including me.”

  Refusing to listen to another word, she stormed into the house and slammed the door behind her.

  * * *

  By noon the next day, Andrew was at his wit’s end. Carly’s adamant refusal last night, coupled with his former admin assistant’s acknowledgment that a certified letter from Ouray had indeed come for him a few months back and was left on his desk, had him more confused than ever.

  Tucked in a corner booth at Granny’s Kitchen, a local diner he remembered as The Miner’s Cafe, he listened to the din of the early lunch crowd and pondered what remained of his burger and fries. One would think he’d be used to Carly’s rejection by now. At least last night’s dismissal hadn’t stung as much as when she’d refused to marry him.

  He sighed, dipped a french fry into some ketchup and popped it in his mouth. Seventeen years later, he still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. But last night revealed something he hadn’t expected. Despite everything, Carly still held a very special place in his heart. Simply being near her stirred up what-ifs and could-have-beens.

  Rather absurd, if you asked him. They didn’t even know each other anymore. Besides, he was headed back to Denver just as soon as he finished Grandma’s house. And he knew all too well how Carly felt about the big city.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He wiped his hands and slid out the device, happy to see his attorney’s name on the screen.