Sweet Mountain Rancher

by Loree Lough

  *

  TWO DAYS AFTER Eden’s visit, Nate headed for Latimer House.

  “Man,” he said, “this place is a mess.”

  The boys stopped packing and gave him an enthusiastic welcome.

  “Where you been, dude?” Devon asked.

  “Takes planning, hard work and long days to get a ranch ready for the winter.”

  “Did you get that cougar yet?”

  He turned to Ben. “Haven’t seen any signs of her lately, kiddo, so we’re hoping she moved on.”

  “Maybe a bear ate her. Or another cougar.”

  Both possibilities had crossed Nate’s mind, too. He nodded toward the boxes, stacked in the foyer. “The big day is getting closer, huh?”

  “Yeah. This Saturday. Woo-hoo.”

  Sarcasm at its best. Proof that Travis hadn’t exaggerated: the boys weren’t looking forward to the move.

  “Where’s Eden?”

  Silas glanced up from the DVDs he was packing. “Getting groceries. You just missed her, but if you can hang around for an hour or so…”

  “Sure.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Long as I’m here, tell me how I can help.”

  “You can talk Eden out of this.” DeShawn grunted, then thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Oh. Right. You’re not talking to each other. Duh.”

  He sat on the right end of the couch, and it didn’t take long for the sectional to fill up.

  “So what’s really bugging you, guys?”

  They all started talking at once, spouting reasons to stay at Latimer House. Nate let them get it off their chests before weighing in. “This house is old, and hasn’t been very well maintained by your landlord. You know better than I do that every day, something goes wrong. Eden does her best to hold things together, but she wants to get you out of here, into a place that’s safe, where she won’t have to worry about the ceiling caving in or one of you being electrocuted or something.”

  He read their silence to mean he’d at least begun to reach them. “I’m going to share a few things with you, things I’m sure Eden would clobber me for telling you.”

  If he didn’t have their attention before, he sure had it now!

  “Did you know that she uses her own money to pay a lot of the bills around here?”

  Eyes widened, jaws dropped and brows rose, so he continued while he had their full attention.

  “And did you know that every time Brett Michaels raises the rent, she sells something of her own to make the monthly payments? Or that while you’re sleeping, she’s up doing laundry, cleaning, making casseroles and freezing them so you’ll have good, healthy food on nights when meetings with her bosses interfere with mealtime?”

  “She has always done way more for us than our parents,” Greg admitted.

  Devon said, “Bet I know what Travis would say if he was here.”

  “‘Sorry’?” Cody suggested.

  Nate frowned. “Why would Travis need to apologize?”

  “For leaving us,” Thomas said. “He knew how to talk to her. And talk her out of stupid stuff like this move.”

  Nate was lost. “Now wait just a minute. I find it hard to believe Eden ever did anything stupid, especially where your best interests are concerned.”

  “Dentist appointments? Flu shots? Ten o’clock bedtime?” Thomas complained. “If those aren’t stupid, what is?”

  “Hey, c’mon now. All those things are for your own good, and you know it as well as I do.”

  Pouting, the boy shrugged.

  Devon shook his head. “No, Travis wouldn’t say he’s sorry. He’d tell us to stop whining and crying like a bunch of spoiled brats and quit making trouble for Eden.”

  Carlos looked at Nate. “So we have to pretend we’re okay with this move?”

  “Just for the time being. It’ll be a big change, there’s no denying that. I remember when I first went to Baltimore and had to move from the ranch house into a downtown apartment. I hated it. But after a while, it grew on me.”

  “Gimme a break,” Wade said. “You liked the big city better than the Double M?”

  “I’d be lying if I said that. But I got used to the change. And after a while, I saw as many positives as negatives.”

  “What positives?”

  “It didn’t take an hour’s drive to get into town, for one thing,” he said with a shrug. “And I didn’t have to spend every Saturday morning mucking stalls and picking dung from horses’ hooves. Or freeze my fingers off in the middle of winter fixing fences.” He showed them the raised red scar on the palm of his left hand. “Barbed wire is vicious.” Grinning slightly, he continued. “My advice is to take things one day at a time. And try to keep in mind that if Eden had a choice, she’d never uproot you this way. Michaels wants to sell the place, and she can’t afford to buy it.” He shrugged again. “What choice does she have?”

  “You could buy Latimer House,” Thomas said.

  “This place is a firetrap and a plumbing nightmare.” He remembered only too well that money had destroyed what might have been a fulfilling relationship with Eden. “I don’t believe in wasting money, and neither does Eden.”

  “I thought they were in a fight,” Carlos whispered.

  Devon said, “So’d I.”

  “Then why is he stickin’ up for her all over the place?”

  “We aren’t fighting, we had a disagreement,” Nate told them. “In a few years, I hope you’ll understand the difference. Eden and I have a lot of respect for one another. This will blow over.”

  They didn’t seem fully convinced, and frankly, Nate wasn’t 100 percent certain about that last bit himself. But what he felt didn’t matter. All he cared about was that they were listening, and it gave him hope that they’d come around eventually. Most of them, anyway. Thomas…he could never be sure what was going on in that kid’s mind.

  He’d no sooner completed the thought than Thomas said, “If I could talk Eden out of sharing the new address with my father, I’d be okay with moving. It isn’t like any of us have a choice. Where we gonna go from here…foster homes? Juvie?” He snorted.

  “I saw your dad once,” Carlos said. “He doesn’t look so bad.”

  Thomas whirled around and scowled at his housemate. “How would you know? And anyway, when did you see him?”

  “He came by once. Sun was barely up, but I saw him and Eden from the upstairs window, sitting on the bench out front, looking at pictures or somethin’.”

  “I saw him, too,” Wade said. “Dunno what kinda person he is, but he sure looks cool.”

  “What you mean?” DeShawn wanted to know.

  “He’s got long hair. Wears it in a ponytail under a do-rag. Has an earring, too, and tattoos. And his whole outfit was black leather.”

  “With studs,” Carlos said. “And he rides a big black Harley.” He rotated both fists forward, as if powering up an imaginary chopper.

  “He isn’t cool,” Thomas snarled. “He’s a loser, and after everything he did to me, I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “I know he did you wrong,” DeShawn said, “but that was years ago. How do you know the man didn’t change? People turn over new leaves every day. Eden says so all the time.”

  The baleful expression on Thomas’s face told Nate it was time to put an end to the discussion. He got to his feet and clapped his hands once. “So, where should I start?”

  “You’re taller than us,” Carlos said. “You could take down the curtains.”

  The others chimed in with things that still hadn’t been done: boxing up pots and pans, wrapping the glassware and plates in paper, rolling up rugs, clearing out the linen closet. For the moment, at least, it appeared as though they’d decided to take his advice.

  All but Thomas, who slumped on the sofa, arms crossed and scowling.

  “Think we should order a couple of pizzas?” Nate asked.

  “Better wait,” Wade said.

  “He’s right,” Carlos agreed. “Eden might have bought
something at the store.”

  “And she might not like finding out you showed up uninvited and decided what to fix for supper,” Thomas said.

  Message delivered and understood. Evidently, the kids knew more about the disagreement than they were letting on. Either that, or they were even smarter and more people-savvy than he gave them credit for.

  Thomas in particular.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE BOYS HAD been hauling boxes and bags since shortly after breakfast, and had earned every moment of R & R they were enjoying now.

  Eden’s grandmother would have loved to see her furniture come back into style, though she wouldn’t be surprised that it was as functional today as it had been when she’d ordered it from the 1945 Sears catalog. “Cost an arm and a leg,” Gramps always boasted, “but they stood behind our soldiers when they needed ’em most, so it’s the only place I’ll ever buy furniture from again.” And as far as Eden knew, he’d stuck to his guns. Gram sometimes accused him of overthinking things, but even she couldn’t deny that once he’d made up his mind, that was that.

  Clearly, Eden hadn’t inherited that trait. If she had, she wouldn’t feel like a human Ping-Pong ball when it came to Nate Marshall.

  A thump upstairs brought her back to the present. Dresser drawers opened and closet doors closed as the boys padded around on white-socked feet. She could hardly wait to see how they’d arranged their new rooms.

  “Hey, where is everybody?”

  Eden hurried into the foyer at the sound of the familiar voice. “Travis! What are you doing here?”

  “Nate called yesterday,” he said, “asked if I wanted to be here for the move.” He hugged her. “How could I say no?”

  She looked over his shoulder at Nate, who carried the boy’s duffel bag.

  “Laundry,” Nate explained, setting it down inside.

  “But what about finals?” she asked, relieving Travis of his backpack. “Shouldn’t you be studying?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” he said with a wink—a wink exactly like Nate’s.

  What choice did she have but to take him at his word? Correction: What choice had Nate left her, bringing Travis here without discussing it with her first?

  She took a step back and gave the boy a quick once-over. “Is it just me, or have you grown taller?”

  Laughing, Travis rubbed his well-groomed goatee. “It’s probably just my man-hair.”

  Tilting her head, she examined the beard. “Is it me,” she repeated, “or is your hair longer, too?”

  “Quit worrying, okay? I promise to cut it before I get married.”

  It was a phrase she’d often used to soothe the boys when skinned knees, sprains and splinters threatened their tight hold on masculine bravado. It touched her to know he’d adapted it for his new, independent life.

  “Are you hungry? Did you have breakfast?”

  “I’m fine.” He patted his flat stomach. “In fact, I’m stuffed. Nate brought me a breakfast burrito.”

  Just what he needs, Eden thought, clenching her jaw. Greasy, processed cheese and fake meat.

  “Are the guys upstairs?”

  “They are, and you know how much they love surprises. They’ll be thrilled to see you!” Eden led him to the stairway. “The top step squeaks,” she whispered, “and so does the floorboard in front of the first bedroom.”

  Travis took the stairs two at a time, leaving Eden and Nate alone in the living room. She could tell by his hopeful expression that he expected her to thank him for driving all the way to the college to pick up Travis. But before she got the chance, Kirk came in from the kitchen, a stack of empty boxes in his arms.

  “Hey, man,” he said as he peered around his load and noticed Nate. “Glad you made it! Did you, ah…is…”

  “Yes,” Eden said, “Travis is here. He’s upstairs saying hi to the boys.” She faced Nate. “Guess you two hatched this wily little scheme for my benefit?”

  A chorus of “It’s Travis!” and excited laughter echoed above them.

  “You make it sound like I was plotting a corporate takeover or something,” Nate said. “I had no devious intentions. I just figured if nobody knew, nobody would be disappointed if Travis couldn’t come.” His voice dropped. “You, mostly.”

  Kirk, always the peacemaker, stepped up. “Don’t mind her. She’s been working like a mule, pulling all-nighters to get ready for the move. You can blame her short temper on exhaustion.”

  Or an aversion to being treated like a child.

  Kirk’s anxious expression distracted her. Eden could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him looking anything but upbeat.

  “So, Nate,” he said, “what do you think of the place?”

  “I think it’s a great old house. And once the kids have a chance to settle in, I think they’ll think so, too.”

  “Ya think?” Kirk teased. “But you’re right. It’s a whole lot safer than the old place, thanks to the renovations, and has a better layout…with one exception.”

  “And what’s that?” Eden asked.

  “Latimer House had all those great little rooms on the first floor, and they were perfect for classrooms. I don’t know why we didn’t consider it before, but here, there’s just the family room. Figuring out how to make it work for science experiments and art projects might pose a challenge, but don’t worry, I’ll get ’er done!”

  Nate had been listening intently, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he planned to control this situation.

  Kirk started for the hall. “Just two more boxes and I’ll have the kitchen under control. Then if it’s okay with you, I think I’ll head out. I promised Janie we’d grab dinner and a movie tonight.”

  “Janie?”

  “Oh. Guess I forgot to tell you I’m seeing somebody. Sort of.” He grinned. “So far, so good.”

  “You’ve already given up half of your weekend, so don’t worry about finishing up in there. I’ll take care of it later.” She hugged him. “Have a good time tonight. You deserve it!”

  His mood was contagious, and he left Nate and Eden smiling in his wake.

  “He made a good point,” Nate said, “about the lack of classroom space.”

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought, but until I can afford an addition, we’ll just have to make do.”

  “Mind if I have a look at the sunroom?”

  He headed toward the back of the house before she gave the go-ahead, and like an obedient child—a stupid obedient child—she followed. She watched him pace off the width and length, and count windows and doorways.

  “This area is huge,” he said. “Plenty big enough to divide into four classrooms, way I figure it, two on either side of a hall.”

  Nate drew imaginary walls to help her envision what the space might look like. She pictured each room, equipped with desks and chairs, lab tables… “I hate to admit it, but it sounds good. Expensive, but good.”

  “Nah. Some two-by-fours and a few sheets of drywall, a little paint…job done in a day or two, for a couple hundred bucks.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Why am I having trouble believing that?”

  “Because you don’t trust me anymore.” He held up one hand. “There are good reasons for that, but you’ll just have to trust me on this. And if Max can’t do it, I will.”

  Eden pictured him, sleeves rolled up and a tool belt around his slim waist, hammering nails and taping drywall. She almost wished Max wouldn’t have time to build those walls. First chance she got, she would unpack her old psychology textbooks. Maybe she’d find an explanation for the peculiar way she’d been behaving lately. Nate had called her behavior hot and cold, and she could hardly deny it. Until she figured it out, she’d thank her lucky stars for Nate’s unwavering support…

  …and hope he never developed a talent for reading minds.

  *

  WHEN PHIL NICKS called to report another kill on his property, Nate deci
ded it was time for drastic action. Arranging a meeting had been far easier than expected, given his fellow ranchers’ erratic winter prep schedules.

  “Does this place ever change?” Phil joked, shaking Royce Marshall’s hand.

  Nate’s father gave as good as he got. “Nope,” he said, slapping his old friend on the back. “Riffraff has always been welcome here.”

  Every seat—on the U-shaped leather sectional, the matching recliners and counter stools, even the six chairs around the high-top game table in Nate’s den—held a man in plaid and denim.

  Zach’s dad elbowed him. “We look like a blue jeans and Western shirts ad,” he said, laughing.

  “Boots and hats, too.”

  “And belt buckles,” Pete Maxon added. “There’s enough silver in this room to supply every dentist in Colorado.”

  Gus Jackson’s hearty laughter filled the big den. “The only tooth docs who are still using silver are fogies, and I don’t want an old codger poking around in my mouth with a drill!”

  Nate made a circle of his thumb and forefinger, bit down on it and blew. The shrill two-note whistle instantly silenced the din of male voices.

  Phil wiggled a fingertip in his ear. “Land sake, son! If you’re lookin’ to deafen the lot of us, you’re on the right track!”

  “Sorry,” Nate said, grinning, “but as the saying goes, we’re burnin’ daylight.”

  Murmurs of agreement and nods of approval told Nate he had their permission to get the meeting under way.

  “Hank here,” he said, bringing their attention to his sister, “has volunteered to take notes, in case we need verification for—”

  “Write down there on your li’l tablet how that brother of yours blew out my left eardrum,” Phil interrupted, leaning over to Hank. “In case I need it for verification when I send him the bill for my hearing aid.”

  When the laughter waned, Nate finished his spiel. “Verification for the CWP agents. I thought we’d start by stating kill numbers. Here at the Double M, we lost two horses, two weeks apart. Would’ve lost a third, if not for Carl’s eagle eyes. Saw the cat and fired a shot.”

  “And missed, doggone it,” the foreman said.