Mountain Heiress: Mountain Midwife

by Cassie Miles

  “So do I.”

  Gabby stepped back. “Did Zach tell you what we found in the old house?”

  “He told me that you almost got nabbed by the intruder.”

  Gabby had almost forgotten the danger. So much else had happened. “In the old house, tucked inside a leather-bound volume, we found love letters written in French by Louis Rousseau.”

  “What did they say?”

  “My French isn’t great, but there was some beautiful language about her hair as black as midnight. It’s a shame that people don’t write love letters anymore. They’re so romantic. I can imagine his wife reading them over and over.”

  “It’s different now,” Rhoda said. “The romantic notion of a love letter is nice, but I’ll take the convenience of technology any day of the week. I finally convinced Michelle to do her correspondence on the internet.”

  “I would have thought she’d like computers as another means of artistic expression.”

  “That was the problem. Michelle and I would sit down to work on her accounts, and she’d get distracted by some new way to mash photographs together.” Rhoda crossed the kitchen and started filling a paper plate with a burrito and fruit. “I love my computer. If it wasn’t for email and texting, I’d never know what my sons were doing.”

  “Do they live around here?”

  “One of them is in college in Denver. The other works at a winery near Grand Junction.”

  As soon as she finished putting together the plate, Zach appeared in the kitchen doorway. Rhoda handed him the burrito and a travel mug of coffee.

  “You’re running late,” she said. “You’ve got three or four men waiting out in the stables, and there are two more in here finishing breakfast.”

  “When those guys are done eating, send them out to the corral. We’ve got a full day.”

  “If you’re going into town, I have a list of things I need from the market.”

  “No problem.” Turning away from Rhoda, he strode across the kitchen toward Gabby, set his coffee mug on the counter and rested his hand at her waist. His lips grazed her cheek for a quick kiss, and he lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “You smell good.”

  “So do you.”

  “Be ready to go by half past nine,” he said as he headed for the door.

  Zach gave orders like a man who was accustomed to being in charge, but she wasn’t that obedient. “Where should I meet you? I need to go back over to the Roost and change clothes.”

  “You’ll figure it out. Nine-thirty.” He left the kitchen.

  She turned to Rhoda. “You and Zach operate like clockwork. How did you know when to dish out his food?”

  “From down the hall, I heard the door to his room close.” She grinned. “This is our morning pattern. He’s always sleeping late, and I’m always pushing food at him.”

  Gabby went to the kitchen window and looked out at the corral where Toby was riding in a circle on a dappled horse with a black mane. Zach stood at the fence, eating his burrito with his hands and talking to two other men in cowboy hats. Then he signaled to Toby. The scene was incredibly Western.

  Gabby had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If she was ever going to have a deep relationship with Zach, she needed to learn something about horses and riding.

  * * *

  ZACH WAS MILDLY surprised when he drove his truck to the Roost to pick up Gabby and found that she was ready to go. The bigger shock came when she ran through a very organized list of errands they needed to accomplish, starting with the rodeo site in Snowmass.

  “The last thing we should do on our way home,” she said, “is go to the mechanic and pick up my car.”

  “You’ve got it all figured out.” He allowed himself to relax, leaning back in his seat and gazing through the windshield at the fresh spring day. The grasses were green and the mountain fields were dotted with bright red and blue wildflowers.

  “When I want, I can be efficient,” she said. “I ran a boutique in Brooklyn for almost two years, and I wasn’t lucky enough to have a brilliant assistant like Rhoda, who would do my accounting and keep my orders current.”

  “Rhoda is amazing,” he said. “I don’t think I would have survived without her.”

  “She mentioned something about doing computer work for Michelle. And I wondered if Michelle might have used Rhoda’s computer for correspondence and note-taking.”

  “It’s possible.” He remembered the two women having tea in the afternoon and chatting at the dining room table with the laptop computer open beside them. “Why would that be important?”

  “Michelle’s other computers were stolen. She might have left backup data with Rhoda.”

  Every clue was worth checking out. While his men were keeping the security patrols at the Roost, Zach was confident that there would be no more break-ins. But he didn’t want this to be a permanent situation. They needed to find the intruder and figure out who he was working for. Either Fox or Osborne, it had to be one of them. Nobody else was connected with Michelle, and Zach refused to believe in random attacks from treasure hunters.

  Beside him, Gabby was on her cell phone, talking to the librarian in Aspen and asking about someone who might know how to preserve old paper. After three more phone calls, she’d located a man who had a rare book collection. “He’ll be home all morning and we can just drop by. His address is in Snowmass. Does that sound good?”

  “Yep.”

  Gabby reached over and stroked the sleeve of his tan shirt. Her touch made him feel good and reminded him of last night’s lovemaking. He had never been with a woman who was so comfortable with her nudity. When she left the bed, she walked tall and proud, not hiding her body or playing self-conscious games. Being naked was natural to her, which was ironic considering that her career was about getting dressed up.

  He was eager for tonight and tomorrow and the night after that. To tell the truth, he wouldn’t mind skipping all these errands and taking her to one of the fine hotels in Aspen where they could spend the day making love and eating steak from room service.

  Again, she pulled at his sleeve, and he realized that her gesture wasn’t meant to be seductive. The only thing getting fondled was the fabric.

  “Nice material,” she said. “Would you consider this shirt to be everyday wear or something special?”

  “I wouldn’t wear it to muck out the horse’s stalls. But it’s not fancy.”

  “Not like that metallic fringe shirt I found in your closet.” She beamed a wide grin. “I’d like to see you in that. It’s very Elvis.”

  “What’s the deal with you and the shirts?”

  “I think this is going to be my new business,” she said, “custom, embroidered Western shirts. I’m sure I could get some of the local shops to carry them on consignment. And I could also sell them online.”

  He had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea. Cowboys were willing to pay a high price for a custom shirt. “You might be onto something.”

  “You inspire me.”

  This time, when she leaned close and slid her hand along his inner thigh, he had no trouble reading her message. He really wished this long day of errands would be over.

  The rodeo arena in Snowmass was a venue also used for other sports, like baseball and soccer, but they did a good job of preparing for the various events. Since this was close to Aspen, no expense was spared, and there was a greater than usual concern about potential animal cruelty. A lot of wealthy environmentalists lived in this area. At one time, Aspen had tried to pass a law banning fur coats.

  He parked his truck in the lot, and they went toward the bleachers to look for the guy who was running this show and the people who were giving him a hard time.

  “Why are we here?” Gabby asked.

  “To reassure the animal rights people that everything is on the up-and-up. For some reason, they want to talk to me, even though this event has been sanctioned by the PRCA and everybody has agreed to abide by all their rules.”

  �
��What’s a PRCA?”

  “Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association,” he said.

  During his competitive years, Zach had been to rodeos that were badly run. The bulls and horses were mistreated, crammed into tiny chutes and shocked with prods to make them buck. Whenever he encountered cruelty, he withdrew from the competition, reported them and made a ruckus. He wasn’t a crusader or political in any way, but he’d gotten a reputation.

  In the center of the ring, the man-in-charge was talking with two people Zach recognized. One was a reputable stock contractor who supplied the animals for rough riding. The other was a woman that Gabby would want to meet.

  “That’s Sarah Bentley,” he said.

  “The Forest Preservation Society lady?”

  “Yep.”

  When Zach introduced them, Sarah focused intently on Gabby as she shook her hand. “I’ve been thinking that I should pay you a visit.”

  “I’m glad to meet you. I understand that you were friends with my great-aunt Michelle.”

  “And I understand that you’re standing between the FPS and a huge amount of income.”

  The battle lines had been drawn. Sarah’s attitude seemed too mercenary for a tree hugger, but Michelle’s estate was a significant contribution, one worth fighting for.

  Zach revised his earlier list of two suspects. Sarah Bentley had more to gain than anyone else if Gabby and Daniel decided to sell the Roost.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gabby had reason to dislike this woman, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Michelle must have seen something good in Sarah Bentley. And Gabby would try her hardest to look for the positive, in spite of Sarah’s pea-green peasant shirt, which did absolutely nothing for her long strawberry-blond hair. Her sandals were those heavy, ugly, easy-to-walk-in things that looked like Dutch clogs with a couple of pieces cut out. Gabby had always thought that if you wanted your feet to look that big, you might as well go for clown shoes. The platform sandals she was wearing were a thousand times more attractive.

  “When you’ve finished your business here,” Gabby said, “I’d like to talk.”

  “I’m done,” Sarah said quickly as she shook hands with the men. “I’ve already checked the references for the stock contractor, and he appears to be satisfactory. Besides, Zach says he’s reputable, and I trust Zach’s opinion.”

  As he shook her hand, Zach said, “I didn’t know my recommendation carried so much weight.”

  “It’s because of Michelle,” she said. “She told me that you bought several horses that had been abused in rodeos.”

  “Yep.”

  “I appreciate a man who takes action.”

  Was she flirting with Zach? Gabby’s fingers drew into a fist. Sarah was making herself more unlikable by the minute. With a toss of her head, she pivoted and headed toward the bleachers circling the ring. “Are you coming, Gabby?”

  Through tight lips, she responded, “Why not?”

  As they walked side by side, Gabby took her measure. In a physical sense, they were evenly matched. Gabby stood a couple of inches taller in her platform heels, but Sarah was probably in better shape from hiking and doing mountain exercise things. Not that Gabby was planning to get into a fight with this woman.

  “Zach is really good-looking,” Sarah said.

  You should see him naked. “We’re dating.”

  “That’s quick work. You only got here a few days ago. You’re from Brooklyn, right?”

  “You seem to know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you, other than you formed a bond with my great-aunt.”

  “Michelle and I shared a passion for taking care of the forests. With the oil companies moving in, it’s important to safeguard this beautiful land. When I have the money from the sale of the Roost, I can pay for the legal battles that are surely coming.”

  Gabby climbed onto the bleachers and sat. “Did Michelle visit you at the Preservation Society?”

  “When we first met, she wasn’t aware of the FPS. She’d booked a room at the bed-and-breakfast I run. There was only one other guest, and we had time to chat. I watched her while she painted outdoors.”

  “Was she doing landscapes?”

  Sarah nodded. “She saw things differently. She told me that she always looked through open eyes.”

  Gabby remembered the notation on the bottom of the landscape sketch they’d found last night. Watching Sarah’s reaction, she repeated those words. “‘Open eyes, open heart, wide horizon.’”

  “Is that a poem?” Sarah didn’t sit beside her in the grandstand. Instead, she paced back and forth in her clumsy sandals as though she had somewhere else to be.

  “It’s something Michelle thought was important.” Too important to share with you.

  “What is it, Gabby? Is there something you want to say to me?”

  “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not planning to sell the Roost. I’m going to live there.”

  “That’s not what Mr. Fox told me.”

  “It’s not his decision,” Gabby said. “I think there’s a smaller stipend earmarked for the FPS.”

  “Thanks for telling me where I stand.” She turned on her heel and walked away. “See you at the rodeo.”

  Gabby waved at her retreating form. “Nice to meet you.”

  It would have been even nicer to never see Sarah Bentley again, but Gabby didn’t kid herself. The terms of the will tied them together. Until it was settled, they’d have to deal with each other.

  She rejoined Zach in the arena as he was finishing his business with the other two men. With Sarah out of the picture, her mood immediately brightened. She couldn’t help noticing that both of the other men were wearing Western shirts.

  “Gentlemen, do you mind if I ask you a fashion question?”

  They exchanged a glance and shrugged.

  “Would you be interested in a custom embroidered Western shirt? You could choose your own design or even make up something totally original.”

  “Like a tattoo,” said the stock contractor, a man who was burly enough to handle bulls. “My nickname is Rooster. I believe I would appreciate a shirt with chickens running across the back.”

  The other man nodded. “I’d look at custom embroidery.”

  She smiled at them both. “Thanks for your opinions.”

  Back in the truck, Zach rolled his eyes. “There’s no stopping you now.”

  “I’m on my way to being an embroidery mogul.” She mentally reviewed her list of things to do. “Our next stop should either be the rare books collector or a place where I can buy boots.”

  He didn’t want to get roped into a shopping expedition. “What kind of boots?”

  “Don’t worry. This isn’t about style. It’s purely practical. If I’m going to spend my days running round at the ranch, I might as well have the appropriate footwear.”

  “Good way to avoid a broken leg.”

  “Your opinion is duly noted.”

  During their first stop at the insanely cluttered house of the rare books collector, Zach heard more than he ever wanted to know about the wonders of preserving old paper. As it turned out, Gabby had been on the right track with her hair spray. The collector sold them a specially formulated spray and advised sealing each sheet in a plastic baggie. The process sounded boring as hell to Zach, but he wasn’t the one who was going to be spraying and sealing.

  Their next stop was problematic. Zach explained, “To get to the market and shoe stores, we’ll be going past the mechanic’s place where we left your car. Should I drop you off to get your car and meet up with you at home?”

  “How far out of the way is it?”

  “Not far,” he said, “eight or nine miles.”

  She widened her eyes, pleading with him. “I’d really like for you to come with me. You can show me which market is the best, and which shoe store.”

  “If you’re looking to me for shopping advice, you’re in serious trouble.” His job was to take the detailed list of supplies th
at Rhoda gave him and fill the order. He didn’t go from place to place looking for bargains. “One stop at one market, that’s my rule.”

  Gabby wasn’t listening. With a graceful flip of her wrist that was both charming and annoying, she suggested, “Maybe we could get lunch.”

  He drove to the intersection for Highway 82 and took a left. “What did you and Sarah talk about?”

  “She thinks you’re hot. I told her that if she ever mentioned your hotness again I’d rip her face off. Not really, but I thought about it.”

  “Good restraint.”

  “Fox told her that I was definitely moving out, and she was already figuring out how to spend money she doesn’t have. I don’t know why Michelle liked this woman. She’s a grumpy, environmental witch.”

  “Who thinks I’m hot,” he reminded her. “Did she seem threatening?”

  “Really? Threatening, as in staging break-ins to convince me to move?”

  “That’s what I’m asking.”

  She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “I don’t know. She seems to be absolutely politically correct, but if she thought it would serve the greater good to get me out of the way, who knows what she might do.”

  By the time they’d completed their errands and had lunch, it was almost three o’clock. He was itching to get back to the ranch. In addition to the regular work and riding lessons, he needed to work with his team on their trick riding exhibition before the rodeo.

  After she picked up her car from the mechanic and paid with a credit card, he asked, “Do you want to follow me home?”

  “You don’t have to show the way. I have my GPS routing. I’ll probably get there before you do.”

  “I’ll stop at the Roost first and drop off your groceries.”

  Her goodbye kiss lasted long enough to spark memories of last night. If he had gone through all this running around with anyone else, Zach would have been snarling. Gabby made the errands seem like an adventure. As he watched her sashay over to her car, he regretted that she wouldn’t be wearing her platform sandals as much. The boots she’d purchased were practical. But the ridiculous shoes suited her.