Sweet Mountain Rancher

by Loree Lough

  “Who’s gonna say the blessing?” Travis asked.

  “You are,” DeShawn said.

  Another instant of silence preceded the to-the-point prayer. Long enough for Nate to decide that, first chance, he’d find a way to ask Eden about her peculiar relationship with Michaels.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FIRST THING MONDAY MORNING, Nate drove into Denver for a meeting with Colorado Parks and Wildlife.

  There wasn’t much the agent could do about the cougar attacks. Her advice on how to discourage the cats—and other predators—echoed what every rancher learned as a child: cougars, unpredictable and stealthy, were at the top of the food chain, and it didn’t take long for them to become as comfortable in cities and suburbs as they were in the wild, content to hunker down behind shrubbery until an unsuspecting quarry strolled by. It was precisely why the youngest Marshalls were never allowed outside alone, and why only a bare minimum of decorative bushes grew near the house, walks and drive. It was also why every Marshall over the age of twelve carried a firearm—and knew the proper way to use it.

  The agent was supportive. Sympathetic, even. Raised on a nearby ranch, she understood the loss of two horses cost more than money. Still, it was more than a little frustrating that the agency, with access to countless studies conducted by animal experts, couldn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know…except that two neighboring ranchers had experienced similar problems.

  The information was unsettling, to say the least. A cougar’s territory might span nearly a hundred miles. For one cat to have killed four times in just over a month, in an area of only two thousand acres?

  Fat chance, Nate thought, climbing into his truck. CPW’s hands might well be tied, but his weren’t. Soon as he got home, Nate intended to call a meeting with the Marshall men and their neighbors. Between them, they should be able to come up with a plan that would ensure the protection of their families, livestock and property.

  As he prepared to merge onto the I-70 ramp, Nate noticed a big green van parked on Colfax. Eden’s? He turned at the corner, instead, and discovered that sure enough, he’d seen the Latimer House vehicle parked outside the Division of Community Relations building. Nate glanced at his watch. Nearly lunchtime. She’d been on his mind for days…and nights. What could it hurt to wait a few minutes, see if Eden wanted to join him for a bite to eat? He was fairly certain that she’d invited him for supper the other night to ask if his loan offer was still open. But since Cora’s and Brett’s sudden appearances had made it impossible to discuss it, lunch might provide the perfect opportunity.

  He pictured her in the Latimer kitchen, cheeks flushed from standing over steaming pots, smiling and laughing at the boys’ antics, gently chiding them if they forgot their manners. When Michaels had tried to insert his two cents into every conversation, she’d listened…and politely dismissed him. The memory made him grin. Who but Eden could reject a person nicely?

  As if on cue, she pushed through the big glass door and stepped into the sunshine. He was in such a hurry to exit the truck and catch up with her before she drove off that he forgot to unbuckle his seat belt. Then he bent back his thumb trying to yank the keys from the ignition. He’d consider himself lucky if she didn’t see him as some crazed stalker.

  Eden turned at the slam of his driver’s door, and much to his delight, she appeared pleased to see him.

  “Well, hi. What are you doing all the way out here in the big city?”

  “Filed a report with Colorado Parks and Wildlife about that cougar.”

  “Oh, right. There haven’t been any more attacks, I hope.”

  “No, thankfully.” He paused, pointing to the building behind her. “Starting the paperwork to move the kids to Pinewood?”

  “Yeah, I filled out a short stack of forms,” she said on a sigh. “As I expected, they won’t approve the move until their inspectors have checked the place out.”

  Nate didn’t like seeing her this way. A woman as bighearted and selfless as Eden should never have to worry about anything. He’d help—if she’d let him. “I skipped breakfast and I’m starved,” he said. “How about keeping me company while I grab a quick bite at Barry’s?”

  Eden glanced at her watch. “Well, I suppose there’s time for a quick bite. But you can’t have it at Barry’s. They don’t open until three.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I worked there a few years ago.”

  “Okay. Then how about Rooster & Moon? I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s good.”

  “I’ve never been, either. I’m game if you are. Meet you there?”

  “Great,” he said, meaning it. “If I get there first, I’ll grab us a table.”

  “I’d prefer a booth, if they have one.”

  He’d build her a booth if they didn’t, Nate thought, heading back to his truck and easing into traffic.

  She arrived at Rooster’s just a minute or two behind him. They parked side by side in the lot to the left of the building, and walked in side by side, too. An inch, two inches at most, and he could wrap his hand around hers.

  “Oh, look,” she said, “they have sidewalk dining.” Eden smiled at him. “It’s such a pretty day. What do you think about eating outside?”

  “I think it sounds perfect.” Miranda called it alfresco, but to his knowledge, she’d never experienced an out-of-doors meal in her life. Oh, she had her reasons: too hot, too humid, too many bugs, or too chilly, too windy, too damp for her TV-coiffed hairdos. But Eden? Eden pulled that frayed Orioles cap out of her purse and stuffed her curls under it. She let him lead the way to an empty table alongside the wrought iron railing, and allowed him to pull out her chair, too. In Miranda’s world, any display of chivalry was an insult to her womanly independence and intellect. He was the first to admit how smart and capable his fiancée had been, and never understood how being treated gently, tenderly—like a lady—diminished her in any way. It was one of many things that made him admit, months before the accident, that the relationship was doomed. And yet, for a reason he still didn’t understand, he’d said yes when she popped the question.

  A friendly waitress handed them menus and took their drink order.

  “Says here they’re famous for their coffee,” he said. “Does caffeine keep you awake?”

  “Do chickens cross the road?” She laughed. “But sometimes, it’s a good thing. I’m way behind on lesson plans, and if I can get them done by the end of June, it’ll seem like an extra week fell out of the sky.”

  Nate opened his menu. “Lesson plans? But school doesn’t start for months.”

  “I’m a huge Mark Twain fan.” She opened her menu, too. “A whole lot of his quotes just fit, you know? Like this one, for example— ‘It usually takes me two or three days to prepare for an impromptu speech.’”

  “That fits, does it?” Nate asked, grinning. “Coulda fooled me.”

  If she noticed that the musical sound of her laughter drew the attention of nearby diners, Eden gave no sign of it.

  “It fits—at least I think it does—because I hate waiting until the last minute to do things. I’ve learned the hard way that life has a way of sneaking up and—” Eden placed one hand over the other, imitating an alligator’s mouth “—chomp, right when you least expect it.” She lifted a shoulder in a dainty shrug. “So I figure if I’m a little ahead of the game, I can laugh when life bites.”

  Someday, maybe she’d tell him which lessons she had learned the hard way.

  Eden stared at her menu. “This tuna wrap looks good,” she said. “And so does the tomato basil soup. Think I’ll get both.” She closed the menu. “I’d order fries, too, but I didn’t see them on the menu.”

  He should be home, checking the hay fields and making sure the cows hadn’t wandered too far from safety. Instead, he was having lunch with a gorgeous gal who wasn’t worried that hard work might chip a fingernail, who liked being out in the fresh air—even when it was this breezy—and actually enjoyed food.

&
nbsp; “What’s on your menu that isn’t on mine?”

  He met her eyes. “Huh?”

  “Well, you’re grinning like the Cheshire cat…”

  “I, ah, I just think it’s funny that the tuna wrap sounds good to me, too. Great minds think alike, and all that.”

  “Every time my grandfather heard that, he followed up with ‘and fools seldom differ.’” She grinned. “I can’t decide which category we fit into.”

  The couple at the next table had shifted their chairs to make it easier to kiss. Long, noisy kisses, and Nate and Eden weren’t the only patrons who’d noticed.

  “If that’s bothering you,” Nate whispered, leaning closer to Eden, “I can have a word with the manager.”

  “What makes you think it’s bothering me?”

  Because it’s bothering me, he thought. And envy was the only plausible explanation.

  “So what’s up with you and Brett?”

  “What do you mean…what’s up? I’m his tenant, and he’s the greedy, thinks-only-of-himself landlord.”

  “Ah…”

  “Why?”

  “No reason.” Why not just ask her, straight-out, if she’d dated the guy?

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  Eden sipped her coffee. “Mmm, this is delicious. No wonder this place is so well-known for their cappuccino.” Then she looked him square in the eye. “You can ask me anything, but I can’t promise to answer.”

  “How much is Michaels asking for Latimer House?”

  She quoted Brett’s price and deadline. “Truth is, even if he gave me a year, it’s way out of my range. Well, I could afford it if I was willing to sell Pinewood. But I won’t do that.”

  “So the only thing stopping you and the boys from relocating is putting the place back into livable shape before Michaels’s deadline.” He didn’t like keeping her on the hook, but if Eden wanted to take him up on his offer, she’d have to say so. He wouldn’t risk having her think that he saw her as a helpless, needy female.

  “Can I ask you another question?”

  “Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re a part-time reporter for the Denver Post.”

  Nate chuckled. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen the kind of grades I got in English class.”

  “I’m sure you did fine.” She tilted her head slightly. “But you were going to ask me something?”

  “Yeah, I was going to ask what you were going to ask me last night.”

  Eyes wide, her mouth formed a small O. “How—how did you know?”

  “I don’t like to broadcast it because it sounds conceited,” he said, tapping his temple, “but I’m a genius.”

  “Not just any old genius. A humble genius.”

  “I’m not a mind reader, though.”

  Eden rolled her napkin into a thin tube. “It’s a character flaw, I think, the way I wait for the perfect moment to talk about certain…things. Because as we all know, there’s no such thing as a perfect moment.”

  “Thinking before speaking is hardly a flaw.”

  She took a big gulp of air, let it out slowly. “Well, I was going to ask if—”

  The woman at the next table tumbled from her chair, taking the tablecloth and everything on it with her to the pavement. She lay in an untidy heap amid spilled soup, espresso, sandwich fixings, and broken glass. If not for a quick-thinking waiter who blocked her boyfriend’s descent, the man would have landed on top of her.

  In a blink, Eden was beside her, gently blotting the woman’s face and hands with a napkin. “Lucky for you, I don’t see any cuts or scrapes.”

  “Lucky for me?” she shrieked. “Are you blind or just plain stupid? Can’t you see I’m covered in blood?”

  Despite the girl’s near hysteria, Eden remained calm and quiet. “It isn’t blood, sweetie.” She showed her the condiment-covered plate that had held her burger. “See? Your dress is messy, but you’re perfectly fine.”

  The waiter and boyfriend managed to get the woman to her feet, leaving Eden on her knees in the murky puddle of soup, coffee and food. Nate waited, thinking surely one of the three would thank her for trying to help. When they didn’t, he held out a hand. Eden hesitated, no doubt concerned that the mess on her fingers and palms might transfer to his.

  “Don’t give it another thought,” he assured her. “I’m overdue for my monthly shower, anyway.”

  That inspired laughter, and she put her hand into his as the waiter returned with a damp towel. “Here you go, ma’am. Sorry you had to get involved in that.”

  “Thanks,” she said, wiping her fingertips. “I’m just glad she’s all right.”

  “The owner said your meals are on us, and that he’s happy to cover the cost of your dry cleaning. I’ll just check on your order.”

  “I don’t think dry cleaning will be necessary,” she said, returning to her seat. “But be sure to thank him for lunch.”

  Nate relieved her of the towel and crouched beside her chair, and in the fraction of a second it took to wipe a smudge of cappuccino foam from her cheek, he noticed a small scar on the bridge of her nose. He blamed the freckles scattered across her cheeks for sending his heart into overdrive.

  “Poor thing,” she said, breaking eye contact to look toward the couple, now arguing near the exit. “I guess now we know what inspired the song ‘Love Hurts.’”

  “You’re one of a kind, Eden Quinn,” he said, chuckling as he sat across from her.

  “So I’m told.”

  Three or four members of the waitstaff appeared, some to deliver their food, some to clean up the kissing couple’s mess. It didn’t surprise him in the least when Eden tried to help.

  But why did she seem so eager to get involved in other people’s messes, from her career choice to the one created by the amorous duo? Did the troubles of others distract her from her own?

  Something told him the sale of Latimer House was but the tip of the iceberg. He could finance the repairs at Pinewood, but did he have what it took to help with her emotional baggage?

  He’d always done his best thinking on horseback, and it seemed to him it might just take a long hard ride to figure out what to make of the Eden-inspired emotions swirling in his gut.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SIDE BY SIDE, they returned to the parking lot. Standing between their vehicles, Eden said, “We should do this again. I enjoyed it.”

  “I agree.”

  Maybe next time, she’d remember to ask him about the loan.

  His cell phone rang, and after a quick glance at its screen, Nate slid it back into his pocket. “So what do you think? Will you and the boys spend July Fourth at the ranch?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  He looked like a pickup truck ad, leaning against his driver’s door, one pointy-toed boot crossed over the other. So good, in fact, that Eden wondered if he’d struck the pose just to impress her. If so, he’d succeeded.

  “We don’t have a parade, but I think we can make it memorable for the kids.”

  To hear him tell it, folks might assume his family gathered for a low-key backyard barbecue, but Eden knew better. She’d read all about the Marshalls’ Fourth parties in the Denver Post. Three generations of Marshalls, the article had said, along with friends and neighbors, chowing down a spit-roasted pig while a Grammy-winning country band played in the background. They hired clowns and set up games for the kids, and after dark, put on a magnificent fireworks display. A man cut from a different cloth might boast—and he’d have every right to—but Nate wasn’t like any man she’d ever met.

  “I think y’all should come the day before, stay until the day after.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  Guilt flashed in his gorgeous blue eyes. Nate uncrossed his ankles and stood up straight. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to overstep.” He held up his hands. “Just want you to know you’re more than welcome.”

  “Please,” she teased, “put your hands down. People will think I’m an undercover cop and you’re my p
erp.”

  Laughing, Nate folded both arms over his chest. “So have you heard from that Templeton guy?”

  “No, and I’m not happy about it, either.”

  “Think he’ll make good on his promise to deliver appliances and whatnot?”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’ll take that to mean he hasn’t provided you with the names of contractors, either.”

  “No.”

  “Well, I still know some reliable people. The guys who built my barn and house, actually. If you’re interested, I can call, see when they’re available for a walk-through.”

  Ask him, she told herself. Ask him right now! “Oh, I’m plenty interested…if they’re willing to work for free…”

  Eden whipped off her baseball cap and covered her face with it. “I can’t believe I actually said that out loud.” She put the hat back onto her head. “It’d be real easy to blame you for my bad behavior, you know.”

  “Me!” Nate looked every bit as surprised as he sounded. “What did I do?”

  “You’re too easy to talk to.”

  “Ah, I see. Maybe I should hang around with Michaels, see if I can pick up a few bad habits, rough myself up a little.”

  “You do that, and it’s over between us.”

  It’s over between us? As her own words echoed in her ears, Nate took half a step back. She wouldn’t blame him if he climbed into his truck and sped away so fast that he left black streaks on the parking lot. The silence lasted all of a blink, but Eden had a feeling she’d relive the embarrassing instant over and over again. And Nate might not soon forget it, either.

  “Did I tell you there will be fireworks on the Fourth?”

  Eden pretended she hadn’t read the article. “No.”

  “And a band?”

  “No kidding?”

  “It’s usually a headliner.” He regained the half step backward he’d taken. “Do the kids like country music?”

  “I’m trying to broaden their horizons by making sure they listen to all genres.”

  Was she speaking in a monotone, or did it just sound that way because somewhere between leaving the DCS building and now, her brain had turned to pudding? Eden would have hugged him for letting her off so easily, but the way things were going, she’d probably tromp on his toe or bang her hard head on his chin.