by Zoe Dawson
“Don’t panic. We’re just getting acquainted,” he drawled, and his confidence settled her. She wasn’t a control freak. She might like to get the job done, but when it was something mechanical like this, something that was out of her expertise, she liked knowing she had someone to rely on to do the job right.
After all, that was what had been drummed into her head at a young age. If you can’t do something right, don’t do it at all. Daddy’s favorite slogan. His other one was even better. Avoid the disappointment and trust in yourself. These were mottos she lived by.
“Uh-huh.” She walked to the passenger side door and reached for the glove box.
“Trace!”
He dropped a wrench and swore under his breath. “Here.”
“I’m going to work.” In her bent-over position, she couldn’t see the girl. Another one of his conquests? She sounded way too young.
Rafferty straightened. “Oh, I’m sorry,” a young girl said.
“This is Rafferty Hamilton.” Trace bent down to retrieve the wrench, gesturing at her with it. “This is my baby sister, Cadence, but we call her Cadie.”
His sister. That was imminently better. The girl was as stunning as her brother. She had an adorable face, huge eyes that she would eventually grow into, an intense and true blue. A cute, slightly upturned nose gave her an approachable air. Her mouth was generous with full, sensual lips like her brother’s. Her mid-length dark brown hair with honey highlights was pulled into a ponytail.
Cadie’s eyes went over her, appreciation clear when she perused the coat Rafferty was wearing and the delicate diamond watch, lingering on her boots, then the car. “Welcome to Laurel Falls.” Her blue eyes full of warmth. “Cool coat, boots, and even cooler name.”
“Thank you. It’s my mother’s maiden name.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know all about being named something unconventional. So, where are you from?”
“New York City.”
She slid a glance over to her brother. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
Rafferty was just as charmed by his sister, and although her brother had a chastising tone, she liked Cadie’s spunk.
“Wait a second.” Trace’s eyes narrowed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
With a sigh that would have made it into the teenage hall of fame, she set her hands on her hips. “I told you. To work.”
He folded his arms over his chest and shook his head.
“What?”
He cocked a brow and she lifted her chin. “You know what.” He gestured with the wrench.
She looked down. “My skirt?”
“Is that what we’re calling that fabric swath?” When she huffed and folded her arms, he said, “Let’s not put your…mango on exhibition. Go change.”
Cadie’s eyes glinted and this was an obvious joke between them. “Trace, you are so…so…provincial.”
He grinned affably. “Nice way to expand your vocabulary, Cadie. Now go expand on your skirt.”
“Ha-ha,” she said deadpan, rolling her eyes. “You crack me up.”
“You’re giving me an ulcer. Change, or I’ll have to rethink you getting to drive Harley’s car once it’s fixed.” Fire in her eyes, she stood up to the steely authority in his, and Rafferty loved that.
“Seriously? I’m eighteen, an adult.” She huffed and, after no quarter from his hard blue eyes, said “Nice to meet you” before she stormed out of the garage and slammed the door.
“I apologize for my sister,” he said, and Rafferty noticed how weary he looked. There were smudges under his eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder why he was the one policing his sister. Where were their parents?
“Nice to know teenagers don’t change wherever you go. She’s a stunning girl.”
He bent down and slid back under the hood. “I wish she was ugly.”
She leaned over so she could see him. “What?”
He turned his head, and she was struck again by how tired he looked. “Believe me. It’d be easier that way.”
“Oh, I get it. Boys don’t look at ugly girls.”
“Bingo. Look, touch…aw, God, it churns up my gut just thinking about it.” He swore softly and at first Rafferty thought it was about his sister, but he rose and went to the workbench. He threw the wrench, and it skittered against the other tools there with a metallic sound. He set his hands against the edge and leaned on it.
“Don’t you have a shotgun in a rack in your truck to take care of that?”
He twisted to look at her, a hint of a smile. “No, it’s by the door. Was that some stereotypical cowboy comment?”
“I guess it was. Sorry, that was out of line.”
“No.” He laughed softly. “I usually keep it in my truck.”
“Your frustration isn’t with your sister’s beauty. It’s about my car.”
“Yes,” he growled.
“I thought you could fix anything,” she chided.
He turned, set his back against the bench, and folded his arms. “I can. Just ain’t used to these innards. I’ll figure it out.”
“I guess you’ll have to. It’s not like there are a lot of choices in mechanics.” Rafferty handed him the manual. “Is that manual really going to help?”
He took it. “Yeah, it has the contact information in it.”
Not more than five minutes later, after returning to the waiting room, she heard “Trace!”
This time she jumped. The voice was deep and booming. She looked up as a man filled the doorway from the front of the garage. He was dressed casually, but those boots on his feet were pricey, the hat was reminiscent of Old West gamblers—black with silver conchos on the band. He stopped short when he saw her and smiled. Damn. This town sure made its native sons…potent.
“Back here.”
“Hey, there,” he said, his eyes a deep gray-blue. Trace came into the waiting room, wiping his hands. “I didn’t know you had a customer.”
“Rafferty Hamilton, my brother Reese.” He took off his hat and held it by the brim in his big hands, the fingers long and elegant.
There were some serious genes in this family. Reese was taller but leaner than Trace, yet he filled his shirt and jeans out nicely. He had a shock of black hair combed off his forehead, shorter and more styled than Trace’s. The same sensual lips as both of his siblings. His neck and jaw strong, with a long torso tapering down to narrow hips. He was, in a word, gorgeous.
“What’s up?” Trace said, coming to the doorway into the garage and leaning his shoulder against it.
“I’m going to the market. Do you need anything?”
Trace shook his head. “No…wait. Yes. Cadie needs cupcakes for some kind of cheerleader function.”
“What kind?”
“She instructed me, complete with an eye roll and a deep, suffering sigh, they had to be chocolate all the way around.” Trace’s brother chuckled, nodding. Then Trace said, low and serious, “Where’s Harley?”
Reese passed by her and lowered his voice. She kept her eyes on her magazine, the article losing its appeal. “In his room. I gave him his medication and he’s reading.”
“He okay?” He sounded worried and concerned. What had happened to his brother? It must have been awful.
“Yeah, he’s good,” Reese replied and shifted closer, his voice dropping again. “We need to talk later.”
Trace nodded and Reese turned toward the door. “Nice to meet you, Miz Hamilton.”
She smiled at him and he left, the bell over the door jingling at his exit.
She looked over at Trace. He was still standing in the doorway, deep in thought.
“Where are you in the birth order?”
“Second,” he said sharply. “Why?”
“It’s just that usually the oldest assumes the caretaking role. Is the bossiest,” she said, wondering what had made it so both his siblings looked to Trace for guidance.
He met her eyes steadily, and her heart beat a little quicker. One side of hi
s mouth kicked up. “You have met Cadie, right?”
She smiled back at him. It was easy to see why he had a string of women running through here all day. Her stomach grumbled. “Is there another place to eat here other than the diner?”
“ ’Fraid not. My sister works there. She’ll fix you up.”
Chapter 3
Rafferty noticed Cadie as soon as she entered the diner. It was a bit before dinner and a ways past lunch, so Chet’s Diner was in need of customers.
“Have a seat anywhere,” Cadie said, and Rafferty smiled and settled into one of the booths over in the corner. The one that gave her the best view of the falls.
“Good choice,” Cadie said as she came out from behind the counter and stopped at the table. She handed her a menu.
She understood Trace’s dilemma. Cadie was quite a beautiful girl. There were a couple of high school guys outside, and it was clear they were discussing her, even though she was oblivious. One had dark hair and blue eyes, the other was blond.
“I see you changed your skirt.”
Cadie made a face. “When Trace tells me to do something, I usually do it, but not before I have my say. He is a good brother, but a tad overprotective.”
“Nothing wrong with that. It’s his job, it seems.” She had to wonder again where their parents were. “I also met your brother, Reese.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a sarcastic so-and-so, but he’s more fun than Trace.”
“Really? Trace is more serious.” That was a surprise.
“Sure as shootin’.” Rafferty smiled at that. “Oh, is that too quaint for you?”
“No. Not at all. Your brother Trace says it.”
“Yeah.” Cadie smirked. “Most women like the way my brother says and does things.” Rafferty’s cheeks colored. “He, Reese, and Harley were all girl-magnets in high school, but they don’t have a clue how good-looking they are, especially now that all of them are men, filled out and broadened. And, all of them are as cool as the breezes that gale across the Rockies.” Rafferty couldn’t disagree. “But to me, they’re just my dumb brothers.”
Rafferty looked away, not about to commit to anything where Trace Black was concerned. “The falls are beautiful. This is a gorgeous state.”
“It’s too bad not many people realize it’s here, but even though we’re not far from Glacier, Laurel Falls has had tourism drop off ever since the inn closed and things started to go downhill. The water drops about fifty feet off a sheer cliff face to a secondary chute, and then a short cascade to the bottom. It’s pretty turbulent, and even in August, you can feel the cool spray and chill as the air blasts from the falls give you the shivers. There’s a footbridge across to a scenic area at the top with picnic tables. It’s a great hike, or you can drive around and access it through a service road. Laurel Falls was built only miles from it. The Laurel Falls Inn, now so empty it makes me sad, sits right up against it, and the combination of the hot springs and the cool air are invigorating.”
“It does sound wonderful. It’s too bad I’m just passing through.”
“Yes, you should definitely check out Glacier if you have time.”
“I’m heading to Sanderson, so I sure hope to.”
Cadie made a derisive noise. “Sanderson doesn’t have the kind of scenery Laurel Falls has. It’s too bad we don’t have anywhere you can stay. I would suggest you hang around for a while. Nature around here is kick-your-butt spectacular.”
“It’s got muscle, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, the body-builder kind: snowcapped peaks, rugged canyons, and wild rivers running roughshod over the lower forty-eight.” She grinned. “Tranquillity and adrenaline. Pick your poison. We locals love a good frozen, mud-spattered adventure with plenty of climbing, skiing over at Tip Top, and whitewater rafting. You will most likely see bighorn sheep, bison, elk, moose, and the white mountain goats. But got to be on the lookout for black and grizzly bears, wolves, coyotes, and, especially, mountain lions. Reese says they are the most dangerous. Most other critters will leave you alone. Really, they’d rather not see you. So sticking to the trails is good.”
The door opened and Cadie glanced over, then did a double take.
For a moment, Cadie stared. A guy, about Cadie’s age, gave her a quick look, then headed for the counter where he slid onto one of the stools, removing his brown cowboy hat.
Rafferty got the distinct impression that Cadie was interested in this guy with his expressive deep green eyes and short ginger hair.
Rafferty cleared her throat and Cadie looked back at her. Her eyes cut to the kid. “A friend?”
“That’s Brooks Gill, the mayor’s son. We go to school together. We were friends once, not so much anymore,” she said, wistfully, her blue eyes sad. She pulled the order pad out of her white apron pocket and said absently, her voice breathless, “What can I get you?” Her pen hovered as another customer came in. “Howdy, Cam,” Cadie greeted him and he settled at the counter, too. Cadie’s eyes went over to Brooks again, his shoulders stiff as he watched the TV above the counter. Yep, there was something going on there, and Rafferty’s heart ached a little for the way Cadie looked at Brooks.
Rafferty opened the menu and hemmed and hawed, then said, “Is there any way I could get something not battered or fried?”
Cadie smiled at her discomfort. “I could go rustle up a hen. Got my hatchet in the back all sharpened. It could split a hair. Just gotta clean the blood off it.”
Rafferty laughed. “I hope you’re kidding me.”
“I am. Couldn’t help it. I do have some chicken back there I haven’t turned into chicken-fried steak yet or some excellent local beef.”
“Chicken?” She sounded hopeful. “Could I get that grilled?”
Cadie nodded and wrote it down on her pad. “I have broccoli that goes with the chicken-fried. Want some of that?”
“That would be wonderful.”
“To drink.”
“Tea would be great. Take the chill out.”
“Cream?”
“Please.”
“Coming up.”
Cadie sidled behind the counter, and Rafferty pulled out her phone, opened up her Angry Birds app, and started to play, even as she kept part of her attention on Cadie. Smiling at Cam, she filled his water glass and got his “usual” order. Cam ordered a club sandwich. The whole time Cadie appeared completely aware of Brooks.
She then walked to where he sat, filled Brooks’s glass, and said, her voice wavering only slightly, “What’s your pleasure?” His attention left the TV and his head turned. For a moment, there was heat in his eyes, then he looked down. “Mom suggested the spaghetti and meatballs.”
“I made it myself.”
He played with the napkin dispenser. “That’s what she said. Said the meatballs had some fancy Italian taste to them. She claims it’s as good as any restaurant.”
“Hear that, Chet?” Cadie hollered. The man behind her, who was stacking dishes, grunted.
“Oh, that’s high praise. It’ll surely go to my head.”
When she looked at Brooks, there was a hint of a smile.
“Girl, you sure got some sass,” he said.
“Always did, Brooks. Always will.” He went back to fiddling with the dispenser. “How are your mom and Cheyenne?”
“Good,” he murmured.
His voice flattened out, which said to Rafferty he was keeping Cadie at a distance. Cadie’s mouth tightened, and she said, “I’d better get to these orders.”
She headed to the back and after about fifteen minutes, she heard Cadie say, “What’s that, Chet? You saying I put on airs?”
Rafferty smiled at Cadie’s spunk and her cute French accent. She really liked that girl. She emerged from the back with her nose in the air and said with a French inflection, “Compliments du chef,” then chuckled when he grunted again. “You are so very eloquent, Chet.”
She placed Brooks’s plate first, then set Cam’s down in front of him. Setting the tray on the edge of
the counter, she walked over to Rafferty’s table.
“I love that app,” Cadie said, setting the plate down in front of her.
Rafferty turned off her phone and looked at the food, then up at Cadie. “You made this?”
“Sure as shootin’. Bon appétit.”
“Merci!”
Rafferty dug in and closed her eyes, chewing. “I had no idea I would get a French meal prepared in a diner. This is succulent.”
“Thanks.” Cadie switched to French. “I want to train for it as a profession, but the Saveur Culinary Arts School in Manhattan is a pretty penny. My greatest and most wonderful dream is to attend Cordon Bleu in Paris. I took French in high school instead of Spanish solely because I’m determined to get there. When I was a freshman, I started Skyping with Marie, a girl in Paris who wanted to practice her English as much as I wanted to practice my French. We’re fluent now.”
“That shows some real initiative, Cadie. Sounds like you’ll find a way no matter what.” Rafferty responded in French. It was so sweet to find someone who knew the language in Laurel Falls.
“I will. Enjoy your meal.”
Cadie went back to the counter. Brooks had just about polished off the meal. “Can I get you anything else?”
He looked at her, and Cadie looked hopeful. She took a deep breath. “Brooks, if you ever want to talk—”
“I’m fine,” he said.
It was clear to her Brooks wasn’t at all fine.
Cadie then said, “You going to homecoming? Got a date for the dance?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes shifting away. Then he asked tentatively, “Are you going?”
She shrugged and Rafferty loved the way she tried to play it cool. “Haven’t been asked yet.”
It was clear she wanted to go with Brooks, but he was clueless. Before he answered, the bell over the door jingled as a waitress came in right on the heels of a stunning woman with auburn hair. Brooks swiveled at the sound and Cadie’s mouth turned down, her shoulders slumping. Rafferty felt sympathy for Cadie.