“Imagine that,” Ethan said wryly.
Laughing inwardly at his sardonic tone, she chose to ignore his comment as she continued chatting with Zandra. It was all small-talk, something she normally abhorred, but it was more pleasant here somehow. Whether it was Zandra or the town itself, she didn’t mind shooting the breeze now, and was truly beginning to like Bison Bluffs.
When the line had advanced enough for them to enter the diner, Zandra and Rory fell back into line behind them. Zoë was pleased to see the ʼ50s look continue inside the diner. Black-and-white checkered tiles covered the floor, booths with turquoise leather, padded seats lined the length of the place, and the open section of the long counter had steel stools standing before it. Formica counters with silver trim, and period collectibles and photos adorned the walls. Exactly what she pictured a diner to look like, she wanted to come back at some point to try the food, certain they’d make a killer burger here. In her experience, diners unquestionably served the best burgers around.
A few moments later, she and Ethan finally arrived at the glass-enclosed counter section housing an impressive selection of ice creams. A handsome man stood behind the counter, and she again questioned the town’s water supply. How on earth were so many good-looking men all living in such a tiny town? An older man stood beside him and the two looked so similar she was certain they were father and son. While the younger one had a darker complexion, he bore his father’s warm hazel eyes and an identical nose. He dipped his head politely to her, and then glanced at Ethan when he spoke.
“Good evening, Myles, Dean. This is Zoë Pennell, she’s the new cook at the ranch.” She was shocked when Ethan’s arm encircled her shoulders. Did he consider this a date? He seemed intent on others knowing they were a couple, even as they weren’t. Not really. Were they? “Zoë, this is Myles Patton, he’s an RCMP corporal and in charge of the division here in town. Dean is his father. Dean, with his wife Cookie, owns the diner.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Myles told her, with a broad smile. “We’d shake your hand but we’re serving food.”
She nodded. “No worries, and it’s nice to meet you, too.”
“How are you liking Bison Bluffs so far?” Dean enquired. He, like Myles, wore a friendly smile, and she found the pair charming.
“I like it quite a bit. I mean, I’ve only been here for a week but so far everything’s been great and everyone I’ve met has been very friendly.”
Dean and Myles both smiled broadly, and she thought they were proud of the town. She wasn’t used to such sentiments but supposed it was common in such a small place. Ethan squeezed her shoulder and she felt of moment of contentment that startled her. For an instant, deep comfort rippled through her, as if she’d always been in Bison Bluffs and had known these men for years. It was all she could do to not physically shake her head at the thought. It was ridiculous. She didn’t belong here, and she couldn’t stay. A week was hardly long enough to develop an attachment for a place which led her to wonder about the town’s water again, only this time for a completely different reason.
“So?” Myles asked, his eyes flitting between her and Ethan. “Have you decided what flavour you want? The maple-candied bacon is this summer’s new one and it’s amazing.” He locked his eyes with hers. “We have many other offerings but, if you’re adventurous, try the bacon one. Dad outdid himself with it, truly. All natural ingredients, in case you’re wondering, and hand-crafted, like all the others. It’s amazing.”
Ethan chuckled. “You sold me on it. Are you sure you don’t want to make this a permanent position?”
“Sure,” Myles retorted with a snort, “give up being a cop to sling ice cream. Now there’s a career move.”
“Well,” Dean interjected, “your mother and I have bounced around the idea of opening a year-round ice cream shop.”
Myles laughed good-naturedly as he shook his head. “No thanks. I’m just covering Anya’s shift while she’s on break. As soon as she’s back, I’m outta here.” He looked back to Zoë. “Anya’s my sister, you’ll probably meet her at some point. Anyway, what did you decide on?”
“I have to try the bacon one.”
“Me, too,” Ethan said. “Make them double scoops.”
As Dean and Myles scooped, she glanced past Ethan to see an odd look on Zandra’s face. She appeared angry and Rory looked uncomfortable. Wondering what was going on with them, considering how happy they seemed just a few moments before, Zoë’s attention diverted back to the Pattons as they handed her and Ethan cones. After thanking them and bidding them farewell, she and Ethan made their way to the end of the counter where an older woman stood, smiling sweetly. Certain she was Cookie, Dean’s wife, Zoë looked her over as she and Ethan stopped before the cash register and she thought that while Myles bore more of a resemblance to his father, he had inherited some of Cookie’s genes. Cookie’s complexion was darker than Myles’s and spoke of a Native heritage. She had thick, dark hair, veined with silver streaks that suited her perfectly.
“Hi, I’m Cookie. I couldn’t help but hear your exchange with my husband and son. Unlike them, I can shake your hand.”
Smiling, Zoë did so. As Ethan paid Cookie, Zoë swore she felt tension coming from the other end of the counter. Looking that way, she took in the now-unmistakeably angry expression on Zandra’s face as she glared at Myles who shot an agitated look right back at her. Both Dean and Rory appeared extremely uncomfortable. Cookie cleared her throat, drawing Zoë’s attention. The woman seemed embarrassed and Zoë knew she, too, had witnessed the silent but harsh exchange between Myles and Zandra.
“It was wonderful to meet you, Zoë. I hope to see you again soon.”
After she and Ethan had bid Cookie goodnight, they exited the diner and Ethan led her a distance from it, she guessed out of earshot of the small crowd that milled around the diner’s exterior. She licked the ice cream and almost moaned aloud. Fresh cream, maple syrup, and salty bacon hit her palate, with sweet and smoky notes, all wonderfully balanced. It was a masterpiece and as she planned on diving into it, the hard look on Ethan’s face stopped her. He wanted to say something and, guessing it was about what had occurred in the diner, she focused on him, ignoring the call of the glorious cone in her hand.
“Remember our discussion about Rory last night and how some people won’t give him a chance?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Myles fits into that category. He rides Rory hard, and is always looking for a reason to drive him out of town. We didn’t discuss it, but Zandra has been extremely withdrawn since the attack. However, this business with Myles has brought out her protective instinct over Rory and that’s what you just saw. Rory just tries to keep his distance from Myles, but Zandra openly opposes Myles whenever they cross paths.”
Having found Myles a pleasant man during her encounter with him, she scowled, truly unable to picture him behaving like that. “What about Dean and Cookie?”
“They have no ill-will toward Rory, same as their daughter Anya, and several others in town. Myles hates him though, and wants him out of town. He’s convinced Rory will re-offend.”
“That’s so unfair.”
He shrugged. “Myles is a cop.”
“So? You used to be a cop.”
“Yes, but not in the same capacity as Myles. He’s responsible for the safety of this entire town. I’ve never been in a position like that and, honestly, I can’t say I wouldn’t have the same feelings as Myles if I were. I mean, if I didn’t know Rory the way I do. Myles has no idea who Rory really is. He sees him only as an ex-con and a threat to the community.”
Spotting Rory and Zandra approaching, she didn’t respond. Zandra stomped up to them. Her furious eyes shot to Rory as she shook her head.
“I’m serious, Rory. You need to put Myles in his place. It’s not fair and he has no right to do it. You’ve never given him any reason to treat you the way he does.”
Rory looked like he wanted the sidewalk to swallow him
. He was obviously embarrassed by Zandra discussing the matter in front of her and Ethan, and so Zoë decided to intervene. The group had been enjoying themselves before, and she wanted to return to that. Besides, she was dying to get back to her cone. Affixing Zandra with a sympathetic look, she nodded.
“You’re right. Myles shouldn’t do that, and I can understand how upsetting it is to you. It really is unfair.” Then she looked to Rory. “Did you try your ice cream yet? What flavour did you get?”
Her peripheral vision caught Zandra’s perturbed expression, but Rory appeared grateful for the chance to change subjects. “The maple bacon one,” he replied, “and no, I haven’t tried it yet but it sounds good.”
“It’s amazing,” she gushed, “it really is. Give it a try.”
He did, and his eyes widened. She smiled before attacking her cone, almost desperate to taste it again. When she chanced a glance at Zandra she saw a more relaxed expression on her face as she quietly ate her cone. Zoë breathed an inward sigh of relief, glad she hadn’t upset the woman. Seeing no apparent harm done to their budding friendship, the feel of Ethan’s eyes on her caused her to look to him. His expression said it all. He knew what she’d done and seemed grateful to her. After flashing her a quick version of his crooked smile, he resumed eating his cone and she couldn’t help but watch his tongue at work. She had plans for that tongue once they got back to the ranch, and they didn’t involve eating. Well, at least not ice cream.
24
Nino Rosati scrunched his forehead as he stared at his tech guy, Carmine. The young man squirmed under his harsh gaze and paled considerably. He knew he was intimidating, hell, he counted on it and, in the unlikely case he himself wasn’t enough, as always, Frank, a veritable tank of a man, shadowed him. Six-four and as wide as a doorway, Frank could scare the stripes off a tiger if need be and, in Nino’s line of work, the need arose quite often. The fact Carmine was also his employee was irrelevant at the moment. Nino needed a better answer than the one the young man had provided.
“I’m sorry,” Carmine said, for at least the tenth time, “but like I said, we thoroughly checked all the CCTV feeds in all three US destinations and the Matthews woman doesn’t appear on any of them.” When his answer was a continued glare, Carmine cleared his throat. “Um, maybe she didn’t cross the border.”
“No, obviously she didn’t cross the border,” he corrected. The bitch was smart, he’d give her that much. He looked to Frank. “How did a fucking chef evade us?”
“She isn’t a chef,” came the deep reply. Frank would never display the nervousness of a nerdy little coward like Carmine, but Nino could clearly see his right hand and bodyguard was nervous relating the information. It caused a deeper scowl from him, and Frank hitched his enormous shoulders jerkily. “Her name isn’t Kathryn Matthews, and she wasn’t just working under a false identity, it was a synthetic one. A good one, too.”
“Fuck!”
His eyes shot back to Carmine, who’d undoubtedly uncovered that irritating bit of information and the little dweeb turned a paler shade of white as he cast his eyes to the floor. Nino pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He didn’t need this shit. Trying to suppress his raging temper, he glared at Frank once more.
“Tell me she isn’t a cop.”
“I doubt it. Yeah, with the ID, she could’ve been, but shit, if that was the case, we’d be in cuffs by now.”
Unable to argue that, he voiced his next fear. “A plant from the family?”
“Perhaps but wouldn’t we have heard something by now?”
Not necessarily, but had the Bosas sent a spy who’d reported back what Matthews could have, they’d most likely be six feet under by now. So, who the hell was she then? She hadn’t gone to the cops, the very thing any other person would have done. His head pounding, more than a migraine was threatening to break free. If he lost his temper, Carmine was likely to lose the three computers before him. It was a pittance, but there was no need to spend unnecessary money, and he choked down the tantrum he longed to unleash. Instead he stared at Carmine until the man felt his eyes upon him and looked up at him.
“Find her, no matter what it takes. Hire people to watch every frame of every CCTV camera in every bus station, train station, airport, whatever. Find the bitch. Now.”
He then turned on the heel of his designer shoes and stormed out of the room, Frank right behind him. Undoubtedly, the big man would follow him and assure him that he’d personally see to it that everyone worked as hard as possible to find Kathryn Matthews. He already knew that and didn’t need the assurance, but couldn’t deny he enjoyed Frank’s company, the only employee he’d lower himself to spend time with. Frank was different than the others. He wasn’t just muscle, although he did excel at the rough handling of people that Nino routinely demanded. Frank was also smart and over the years had become Nino’s confidant. He trusted Frank with his business and his life. Presently, he’d trust Frank with something almost as important. Finding Kathryn Matthews and eliminating her.
25
Zoë caught her lip between her teeth in the manner that drove Ethan wild. If Skip hadn’t been present, he might have taken her there, right in front of the barn, in broad daylight. He had no doubt the hands had figured out he and Zoë were sleeping together, but knew they’d be smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves. It was a consolation, considering how often he’d cautioned them about drama on the ranch, and while it was hypocritical of him to have embarked on a relationship that could lead to the very drama he insisted he wouldn’t put up with, he was grateful none of the men would comment on it. Well, Skip probably would, but hadn’t yet. So far, he’d just shot Ethan a few smirks when Zoë was around, as he had a few moments ago when she joined the pair.
“I don’t know about this,” she said quietly as her eyes scanned the saddled horse that stood beside her. She seemed apprehensive but not scared, and he again wondered what had frightened her enough to run to Bison Bluffs.
“You’re the one who said you were bored and wanted to do something new,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, but suddenly working on the gardens seems like a better idea.”
“You’re not getting out of it that easily,” he replied with a grin. “Skip already saddled Dottie, she’s ready to go.”
Her eyes ran over the horse again as her nose wrinkled up. “She’s so big.”
“She’s one of the smaller girls here,” Skip informed her. “She’s also a great horse to ride, and perfect for you. She’s got the smoothest gait you could imagine. Dottie’ll take care of you, don’t you worry about that.”
Agreeing with Skip wholeheartedly, he appreciated the older man’s choice of Dottie for Zoë’s first ride. In addition to her smooth movements, she was undoubtedly the gentlest and calmest horse Ethan owned.
Zoë’s sudden laughter had him following her sightline to where Butthead was, his forelegs on the ground, his hindquarters sticking up, staring at a small rock. When he began barking at it, Ethan laughed too.
“If stupid were a talent, that dog would be considered gifted,” Skip remarked with a slight shake of his head.
“Yep,” Ethan agreed, “he could throw himself on the ground and miss.”
“If he had an idea, it would die of loneliness.”
“He’s got an IQ of two, but it takes three to grunt.”
Zoë bent over, her arms wrapped around her belly. “Stop it, both of you. I can’t take anymore.” Slowly she regained her composure and stood straight again to wipe under her eyes as she chuckled. “Do you two just sit around coming up with those?”
“Yep,” they answered in unison.
“That poor dog. You two are awful.” Her chastisement had him grinning again. With flushed cheeks and bright eyes, she looked just as she did after they had sex and he averted his eyes, lest he get aroused.
“C’mon,” he urged. “The day’s a-wasting.”
After climbing the steps of the mounting block
, she slipped her foot into a stirrup and grabbed hold of the saddle horn. On the other side of the horse, he stood close to help her, but she swung her leg over the saddle and sat in it like a pro. Her movements were so graceful, even doing something she’d never done before, they astounded him. Again. Just about everything she did impressed him, in or out of the bedroom. As Skip adjusted the stirrups for Zoë, Ethan mounted his horse.
“Okay, you’re good to go,” Skip informed Zoë as he handed her the reins.
She took them and then looked to Ethan. “Don’t I need some instruction? Like on how to make her go or stop?”
“She follows voice commands. For right now though, don’t worry, she’ll follow my horse. Just hang on, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
“Because if I don’t relax she’ll smell my fear?”
He chuckled. “No, but she can feel your tension, and, if you’re all stiff, you won’t move with her. Seriously, just relax. You’ll be fine. We’ll start out walking and if you don’t want to go any faster than that, it’s fine. It’s your first time, so just get used to the feel of being on a horse. Okay?” She nodded, and he looked to Skip. “We won’t be long.”
“There’s no rush,” Skip returned with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You two enjoy your time together.”
When Ethan shot him a warning look, Skip laughed and turned away. After calling Butthead to his side, he walked toward the barn. As Ethan turned back to Zoë, he saw the bemused look on her face. She’d clearly heard Skip’s reference to them being a couple and found it funny. Ethan hadn’t. He commanded his horse forward and Dottie fell in line beside him. Glancing at Zoë, he thought she looked apprehensive but not scared. Her eyes roved over Dottie and then met his.
“What kind of horse are these? They’re both the same breed, aren’t they?”
“Yep. They’re Canadians.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Absolutely. Sawyer breeds them. They’re actually a very old breed. The country was quite literally built on their backs.”
Done a Runner (Wanted Men of Bison Bluffs Book 1) Page 10