by Jill Lynn
He hated the thought of that.
“I’m ready.” Ruby tugged on his hand.
He was nowhere near ready to let go of her. Never would be. Course, Ruby was talking now, and Luc was jumping into the future. She’d just gotten here—the ranch and his life. He needed to take things one day at a time. “Then let’s go.”
They walked down the path, dust rising under their shoes and joined hands. Ruby chatted at the speed of light while Luc contemplated how to repair something that wasn’t anywhere near fixable.
Chapter Six
If money didn’t matter so much, Cate would send the client across the screen from her packing. He was demanding. Impatient. And sometimes offensive. But she needed the work—always did—so none of the above mattered. Being a single mother didn’t allow her the opportunity to be choosy.
“One more thing.” Vincent held up a thick pointer finger that came across the screen as menacing. “I know this is the color scheme I said I wanted, but I don’t like it.” He motioned to the paper in his hand. “I really need you to rework this. And I need it by tomorrow.”
Of course he did. Cate indulged in the fantasy of letting go of a long, loud, overdue scream, but she didn’t think that would go over well. Vincent was one of her bigger clients. She didn’t have a choice. She’d have to turn this job around. Again. And then hunker down to complete the magazine for the Denver Building Association she had due at the end of this week.
Cate clarified a few points, and then the two of them disconnected. She dropped her head to the small table she was using as a desk in the corner of Luc’s room—now temporarily hers. Her brain tumbled like a pebble in the drum of a washing machine. If only she could tell Vincent she didn’t want to work for him anymore. The man was her least favorite client. Full of last-minute deadlines and changes. But the money was too good to pass up. And she’d definitely charge him for these. She always made him sign off on changes so that she could add additional fees while proving he’d made the requests. And for some reason, he kept hiring her.
Stretching arms over her head, Cate attempted to release the kinks in her neck and unwind her screaming muscles. Stress of any sort made her twist up like a rubber band.
She removed the long silver necklace that she’d worn over a dressy turquoise tank top for the meeting and placed it on the desk. She’d paired the shirt with black skinny ankle pants, wanting to look professional even over the computer screen.
The time in the corner of her computer made her gasp and pop up from her seat. Ruby would be climbing the walls by now. The girl was too social to survive five minutes by herself. Cate was surprised she hadn’t popped in once or twice during her Skype call, but then, she had bribed her with a Popsicle if she could occupy herself for the supposed-to-be-half-hour meeting that had morphed into an hour.
The mark of a good parent—bribery. At least that was what Cate told herself. Survival came in all forms.
“Sorry, Rubes.” She opened the slightly ajar bedroom door. “I didn’t know the meeting would go so long. I owe you big-time, kiddo.”
There was no sign of Ruby in the living room or bathroom. Maybe she’d crawled into her bed and decided to take a nap. Ha! Now Cate really was being delusional.
Crossing to the other bedroom, Cate stepped inside the darkened space. No Ruby in the bed. Or under it. Cate’s pulse revved as she walked around the bed just to make sure Ruby wasn’t hiding on the other side. She checked the closet. Nothing. There was nowhere else Ruby could be in the bedroom, so Cate took off for the living room again.
She scanned the couch and fireplace. Ruby’s ponies were set up on a wooden bench under the window. Prim watched Cate from the fireplace hearth.
“Where’s Ruby, Prim? Where’d she go?”
This was where a dog might be a better fit than a cat, because Prim’s answer was to squint and lick a paw.
Weakness spread through Cate’s limbs. The places Ruby could be hiding were diminishing. Just like her attempt at remaining calm.
She checked the bathroom again, this time flipping on the light and yanking back the shower curtain with shaking hands.
Empty.
Cate ran for the front door and ripped it open. The step was vacant, the dirt path barren. Cate had thought maybe Ruby had wanted to sit outside, but there was no sign of her or any of her toys.
She called for Ruby numerous times, volume heightening with each attempt to locate her daughter. No answer.
A fist closed around her throat. Could Ruby be playing a game of hide-and-seek?
Cate tore back into the house, leaving the front door open in case anyone had heard her calling and offered any help. “Ruby, if you’re hiding from me it’s not funny anymore. I need you to come out. You’re going to get a Popsicle, remember?”
Surely that would do the trick.
But no giggle or small voice answered her. Just an agitated meow from Prim. Cate opened the lower cupboard doors. She couldn’t imagine Ruby fitting inside, but it was worth a try. After that she checked the small closet to the side of the front door. The outdoorsy scent of Luc wafted from the coats and sweatshirts that hung in the space. Cate shoved the boots on the floor to the side. No Ruby.
Once again she offered a treat, this time upping the ante to ice cream. But when she didn’t receive an answer, her panic shot into the red.
Ruby wasn’t here.
The cabin wasn’t big enough for her to hide and Cate not to find her. Besides, the girl wasn’t that good at hide-and-seek yet. A portion of her body was always visible, sticking out from behind a piece of furniture or shaking with laughter under a blanket.
What should Cate do? Had Ruby wandered out the door? The ranchland was endless. She could be anywhere, surrounded by any number of wild animals. Cate’s heart ping-ponged in her chest.
What had Ruby been wearing? Her mind scrounged for the description she’d need to supply to the search-and-rescue crew.
Snagging her phone from her desk, she tried Luc as she walked back into the living room. No answer. Next, she called Mackenzie, impatience mounting with each ring. Maybe she and Emma had seen Ruby or even had her with them.
It had to be something simple like that. But while her mind agreed with that logic, her body was too busy mentally assuming the fetal position.
“Hello?” Mackenzie answered just as Cate spied the note propped against the cracker box on the counter. Luc’s writing. She blinked, attempting to focus long enough to read his message.
“Cate? Everything okay?” Funny. Even Mackenzie knew if Cate was calling her, something must be wrong. Only it wasn’t.
She scanned the scrap of paper. “No. I mean yes. Everything is okay. False alarm. I—I couldn’t find Ruby, but I guess Luc has her.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s actually with Emma and the other kids at the moment.”
Heat engulfed Cate’s face, matching the indignation churning inside. “Thanks.” She swallowed. Tried to get some moisture back into her mouth. “That helps.”
They hung up, and Cate placed her hands against the counter, inhaling long and slow in an attempt to settle her buzzing nervous system.
What had Luc been thinking? Why hadn’t he at least popped in and motioned to her or something? Who did he think he was, taking Ruby like he had?
Cate pushed off the counter. She needed to talk to him, and there was no way the conversation could wait until dinner.
* * *
“You all set?” Luc questioned Brant, the nineteen-year-old who would lead the afternoon trail ride. The kid had been a godsend when he’d shown up last summer looking for work. He knew more about flowers, birds and anything to do with nature than any of the other leads, and the guests loved him.
“Yeah, dude. Ready to rock.”
Dude. Brant was far more snowboarder than cowboy, but he knew these trails in and out. Being a wra
ngler at the ranch was the perfect fit for him because it meant he had portions of the winter months off and could spend his time on the slopes.
Brant whistled to get the group’s attention, then began his short instruction spiel. He tugged on the straps to his backpack while talking, which was loaded with emergency supplies—granola bars and extra water for the guest who forgot theirs. It was important to stay hydrated, as altitude sickness could come on fast and fierce.
“Mr. Wilder, I wanted to ask you about the dance at the end of the week.” An older woman with gray hair and squeaky new cowboy boots approached. Those were going to rub some mean blisters into existence by the end of the day.
“Call me Luc...Mrs. Tepa,” he finally recalled.
“I don’t have any clothes for the dance, not a single dress, and I’m...” She continued talking as Cate stormed down the trail from the cabins, looking like she’d been stung by a bee and was in hot pursuit of blaming...someone.
If he called out not it, would she head in another direction and find a different target?
He and Cate had managed to avoid any of the real issues swimming under their bridge this week, but it looked like their raft was about to crash over the falls.
His head shook at the thought.
“So I can’t wear casual clothes?” Mrs. Tepa asked.
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t answering you. I— Yes, you can. The dance is casual. Nothing fancy. Boots and jeans make the most sense. That’s what everyone wears, ma’am.”
The square dance that finished off each week was a highlight for the guests. Luc asked people to fill out a short survey at the end of their stay, and that always ranked as one of the favorite activities. Along with moving the cattle. People loved the thought of doing what had been done in the West for centuries.
“Okay, thank you so much.” Mrs. Tepa rejoined the group headed for the corral as Cate zoomed in for a landing. Her narrowed eyes were aimed right at him—no surprise there. Though Luc didn’t have a clue what he’d done.
And then she was in front of him, the August sun beating down on them and singeing the back of Luc’s neck. He’d forgotten to grab his hat on the way out of the lodge and now regretted it. He could have tipped the brim low to deflect a bit of the self-righteous heat pouring from Cate.
Dressed in fancy work clothes and black sandals, Cate looked like she belonged in a Denver office building instead of kicking up dust on a ranch.
Luc wore a different variation of the same thing every day—boots and jeans. A ranch T-shirt or button-down, depending on the weather. And in the winter, a brown Carhartt coat. What had he ever been thinking, falling crazy in love with this woman? He and Cate had so little in common.
“What were you thinking?” Her question mimicked his thoughts. Thankfully, the guests were far enough away that they didn’t turn to investigate her snippy, accusatory tone.
“Regarding what?” The two of them had plenty of situations she could be referring to. “Past or present?”
His quip only increased her scowl. “You took my daughter without telling me. I didn’t see your note,” she spit out, “until after I’d panicked. I thought maybe she was wandering around outside. I didn’t know if she was lost or stuck somewhere. And I didn’t have a clue where to start looking. It was awful.” Her voice wobbled, and her eyelids fluttered like hummingbird wings. Trying to control her emotions? Too bad. Any empathy he might have mustered had deflated with her choice of words.
“Your daughter?” If his voice held a bit of malice, sue him. Anger over the decisions Cate had made bubbled as scalding and fierce as the hot spring that sprang up from God’s imagination on Wilder land.
Cate’s arms crossed in a huff, eyes jutting to the side as her chin eased forward in defiance. “You know what I mean.”
“You’re right. I do. You mean Ruby’s yours. You might be making a small attempt right now to compromise by staying here, but in a few weeks you’re planning to hightail it out of here so fast there’ll be a trail of dust a quarter mile wide behind your car. I’m not a fool, Cate. I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to retain as much control over Ruby as possible while keeping me out.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
This conversation was oddly reminiscent of a fight they would have had when they were younger. Different verse, same chorus. They’d always been feisty with each other—or at least he’d been with her. But their arguing was one of Luc’s biggest regrets. If he’d handled those days better and chosen maturity instead of selfishness, maybe he and Cate would still be together. And Ruby would be their daughter. And then he wouldn’t have missed the first three-plus years of her life.
No. He wouldn’t go down that road again, no matter how much he wanted to be right in this situation. Getting along with the mother of his child was the better choice.
And he certainly hadn’t meant to worry Cate.
“I’m sorry.”
Her chin jerked back, eyes widening. “What?”
He almost chuckled at her response. He’d thrown her for a loop not continuing to engage in battle with her. Maybe it could be a first step in showing Cate he wasn’t that same kid anymore. She would never believe him if his actions didn’t back up what he claimed.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, taking Ruby. I thought I was helping. I could hear you talking to someone about work, and she was bored. Part of you being here was for us to help, not for you to be working and taking care of Ruby by yourself.” He shrugged. “So I asked Ruby if she wanted to stay with me or go with Emma and the kids, and she chose her aunt. Of course.”
“Oh.” Some of the wind left Cate’s sails, though her eyes were still shooting sparks.
“I left you a note.”
“I didn’t see it right away.” Her quiet answer told him she was starting to back down from her high horse, but he needed her to go another few notches before they could have a calm conversation. One without snapping at each other.
“Come with me.” Luc hooked a thumb toward the lodge.
“Why?” The woman could sure pack a lot of distrust into one little syllable.
“Do you have to question everything?”
“Yes.”
He half laughed, half sighed. Nodded toward the lodge again on his second attempt. “Do you want a brownie? They’re fresh from the oven.”
Her lips pressed together, contemplating. Show-off. She didn’t have to draw any attention to the spot. He already had it memorized.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Curiosity joined the edge to her voice.
Only Cate could question the motive behind a brownie. “Just come on.” He snagged her arm, directing her. If he waited for her to decide, they’d be here all day. His hand felt right at home against her skin, but he ignored the increased rhythm in his chest at being near her. She smelled like flowers and good pieces of the past.
Luc matched his longer stride to Cate’s shorter one. He probably had close to half a foot on her in height, but she made up for it in spunk. Case in point: she shook his hand off her arm like she was dealing with an insect instead of a man. His mouth twitched. As long as she kept walking, he wouldn’t fight her.
What was it about Cate that both infuriated him and intrigued him at the same time? Just her presence wreaked havoc on him. He wanted to tuck into her and take a good long breath, as if he’d been holding his for the years during their separation and his lungs could finally function again. But he wasn’t allowed those kinds of liberties anymore, and he wouldn’t take them if he could.
He and Cate had bigger things to focus on than their wayward relationship. Like their daughter. Which was exactly what he wanted to talk to her about.
“Joe made brownies. I could smell them when I was in my office earlier. They’re amazing right out of the oven.”
Her
sideways glance included more narrowing of those caramel eyes. “Are you trying to bribe me into a conversation with the promise of a brownie, Lucas Wilder?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Chapter Seven
The empty kitchen’s immaculate stainless-steel countertops and appliances spoke to the neat freak living inside Cate. White fluorescent lights bounced from the surfaces, and the smell of disinfectant from the last meal’s cleanup whispered across her senses along with the sweet smell of still-warm chocolate.
Luc went to an open metal shelf lined with rows of filled baking pans and slid one out, placing it on the counter.
“Have a seat.” He nodded toward the countertop.
“Won’t I get in trouble for that? Isn’t that against the rules or something?”
He snagged two small plates, then some silverware from the round metal canisters. “I know the people who run this place. I think you’re in the clear.” Humor crinkled his cheeks. “Plus, I’m kind of intimidated by Joe. He’s been the chef since I was a kid and has reamed me out for being in here more times than I can count. So I’ll definitely clean up any mess I make.” He glanced at the wall clock. “We have at least thirty minutes before the kitchen staff comes in to start prepping dinner.”
Cate pointed to the section of brownies where he’d just cut two large squares from the corner. “That’s not going to be a clue?”
His boyish grin grew, causing an ache to echo in her chest. That easy lift of his lips should be illegal. It was too attractive to resist.
After scooping one man-size portion onto the small plastic plate, he handed it to Cate with a fork perched on the side. She touched the top. Felt the warmth.
Setting the plate down, she scooted backward onto the countertop, then picked it back up. This was exactly the kind of thing the old Luc would have made her do. Not quite breaking the rules but not quite following them, either. Good-looking trouble. That was what he was.