by Kit Morgan
“So what if he’s not there?” she asked herself. At this point, she was pretty sure Tate wouldn’t be. She hadn’t seen him the last time she was there, and just as well – she hadn’t wanted any distractions her first time on Georgie with her bum ankle. But that was three days ago.
Was she avoiding him? Probably. Her conscience certainly wanted her to. And she’d wanted to give her ankle a couple days’ rest, which had helped. Would it be sore tomorrow, though? Would she have to go another day without riding Georgie? And speaking of Georgie, she’d better make arrangements for someone to ride him while she was out of town. Would Tate do it? Or would he be too busy with Cassandra –
It hit her – she was angry. Angry that she hadn’t heard a peep out of him since she’d helped him shop for that gift for Cassandra. Which, come to think, told her all she needed to know about her chances. “Well, that’s it, then,” she said with a sigh. “Better luck next time, Mel. I hope the two of you will be very happy.” She smiled, realizing that she meant it.
Now all she had to do was keep herself from dreaming about Tate Sullivan for who knew how long. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him while she was staying at the ranch. Cassandra would keep him occupied here in New York, and by the time she got back, he’d probably be ready to go home.
Good, Melanie’s conscience insisted. That’ll make forgetting the ingrate a lot easier. And Melanie agreed.
Chapter 10
The Sullivan ranch, Sisters, Oregon
“And this is the barn,” Casey said with excitement.
Melanie rolled her eyes and laughed. “I have seen your barn before, remember?”
“Yes, but you were busy shooting my wedding, remember?”
Melanie rolled her eyes again. “All right, you got me there. Let’s go inside and you can show me what you have here.”
With a grunt, Casey pushed on the huge sliding wooden door, just enough for the two of them to squeeze through. Once inside, she flipped on a switch illuminating their surroundings. It was just as Melanie remembered it. Good. “I can definitely work with this.”
“So when are you going to let me see this storyboard of yours?” Casey asked, shoving a lock of red hair out of her face.
“When we get back to the house. I was thinking we could put a kiddie pool right there.” She pointed to the middle of the barn. “Maybe have some bales of hay stacked here and there for the ladies to sit on – if we can get them to sit on them.”
“Omigosh, that’s right” Casey giggled. “Maybe we can spread some quilts on them. It would brighten things up.”
Melanie thought a moment. “I think that would work.” They continued to make plans and Melanie couldn’t have been happier – she’d missed her friend these last few months. If only Casey and her family were keeping her mind off Tate. Naturally she couldn’t avoid hearing his name now and then, since they asked her how he was doing. Apparently, they thought she’d been seeing him every day.
Thank heavens she hadn’t, or being on the Sullivan ranch might prove harder. In a way, she was surrounded by the man – he seemed to be in every nook and cranny of the house, the barn, even the landscape itself. That was Tate: ranch life, family and freedom. Casey had tried to explain to her the last time she was there about a certain liberty associated with her new life. Maybe it was the wide-open spaces, who knew?
They returned to the house just in time for lunch. “I made ham sandwiches, girls,” Samantha Sullivan, Tate’s mother, said. “Do either of you want some tea?”
“I’ll have a cup, Mrs. Sullivan,” Melanie said.
“Call me Samantha. Do you like cinnamon orange?”
“Love it.”
“Good – it’s Tate’s favorite, and since he hasn’t been around, there’s been plenty enough for the rest of us for once.” She arched an eyebrow at Melanie.
Casey laughed. “Tate does like his cinnamon orange tea.”
Melanie glanced between the other two women. “He does? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him drink it in New York.”
“In New York he likes coffee better,” Casey said. “Jake says because it’s the New York thing to do, and because the only place he ever drinks tea is at home.”
“Where is Jake?” Melanie asked, wondering where Casey’s husband had wandered off to.
“He went to a cattle auction with his cousin Liam.”
“Does Liam live around here?” Melanie asked.
“No, his family is up in Washington,” Samantha explained. “They have a huge wheat ranch up there but they also run cattle.”
Melanie giggled. “Wheaties and milk, huh?”
“Something like that,” Samantha said with a smile. She made Casey and Melanie each a cup of tea, poured herself one and joined them at the kitchen table with a sandwich. “Liam will be with us for a few weeks helping out. You’ll like him.”
Melanie looked at her, noted the woman’s sudden attempt to look innocent and tried not to smile. Was Tate’s mother playing matchmaker?
“So tell me,” Casey said with a sigh. “What’s the deal with Cassandra?”
Melanie’s mouth fell open, but she quickly snapped it shut. True, the question took her by surprise, but it shouldn’t have. “She’s fine, I guess. Why?”
“I just think it’s kind of rude the way she suddenly had other things to do the day of your big shoot with a new designer.”
“Oh, that,” Melanie said with a wave of her hand. “Water under the bridge. Cassandra’s Cassandra. At least when she does help me, she really helps. But I think I’m going to have to write her off as assistant material. If her modeling career is really taking off the way she says it is, she won’t have the time anyway.”
“True, or is it because of my brother-in-law?”
Oh please, Melanie thought to herself. Not more Tate talk. “They have been spending a lot of time together.”
“They have?” Samantha said in surprise.
“You look worried,” Casey said, bemused. “Are you?”
“Maybe a little,” Samantha admitted. “I don’t know her very well, after all. The two of you do.”
“And?” Casey said with a smile.
“Well …” Samantha fingered her teacup. “What do you think of her? Be honest.”
Melanie fought the urge to say, do you really want to know?
Casey shrugged. “I’m not the one that can answer that. Melanie works with her.”
“Used to,” Melanie corrected.
Samantha’s attention shifted to her. “What do you think? Are they a good match?”
Melanie felt her heart sink. She’d told herself over and over that there was no point in entertaining the possibility of dating the man. But as her conscience had said, her heart was a moron. “Honestly, Samantha, I really couldn’t say. Cassandra’s a nice gal, very career-minded.”
Samantha tapped the rim of her cup. “She seemed nice when I met her at the wedding. But I never got much chance to talk with her.”
“That’s because Tate was dancing with her most of the time.” Casey drained her teacup, gathered the other dishes and put them in the kitchen sink. “Come on, Melanie, let’s go look at your sketchbook.”
Thank the Lord, Melanie thought. The last thing she wanted was to keep talking about Tate and Cassandra. Every time she did, her stupid heart broke just a little more.
* * *
Liam MacRae wasn’t quite as tall as Jake or Tate Sullivan, nor did he have their dark eyes or brown hair. Instead, he sported dark blonde hair, blue eyes, an outdoorsman’s tan and a gift for jokes. He reminded Melanie of Bernard the doorman. “I know a good squirrel lawyer,” he said when she’d finished regaling the family with the tale of her accident in the park. “He’ll cost you, though – he don’t work for peanuts.”
“Stop, please, just stop!” she laughed. “I don’t think I can take much more!” She and the family had been seated around the dining room table all evening playing board games. She was in a state of blissful c
ontentment. Jake had built a fire in the living room across the front hall, and he and Casey had just left the table to sit in front of it, enjoying each other’s company after being separated all day.
Melanie, Liam and Samantha had decided to play one more round of pachisi when the doorbell rang. “Now who can that be?” Samantha asked, glancing at the wall clock. “It’s after nine.”
“I’ll get it, Aunt Samantha,” Liam volunteered, and was already halfway to the front door before Jake could even get off the couch. “I got it, cuz,” he called, opened the door, took one look and let out a whoop. “Tate!”
“Surprise!” Tate said with glee and laughed.
Melanie straightened in her chair. Tate?! Here? Now?
There is no way this could be worse, her conscience declared.
“And who do we have here?” Liam asked after the customary greeting of male backslapping.
“Liam, this is my girlfriend Cassandra.”
I stand corrected. This is worse.
Melanie covered her face with her hands in horror. No, no, no! The urge to talk back to the voice in her head was overwhelming, so was the urge to flee to her guest room. Thankfully no one noticed – they were too busy heading to the front door. She had a horrible thought – if she was in the guestroom and Cassandra was here … well, there was no way Samantha would let Cassandra sleep with Tate. Would she put Cassandra in with her? She squeezed her eyes shut. No, no, no …
Liam ushered Tate and Cassandra into the dining room. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in,” Liam announced.
Samantha was in her son’s arms before anyone could blink. “What do you mean by not calling and letting us know you were coming home?”
Tate didn’t answer.
“Son? Something the matter?”
“Hi, Melanie,” he said.
Samantha stepped out of his embrace and looked at her. “Oh yes, didn’t she tell you she was coming? She’s working with Casey.”
Melanie managed to raise a hand and wave weakly in greeting. It was all she could do. Probably a good thing, as it meant the momentary impulse to run screaming from the room was stalled.
Casey looked between the two of them, then at Cassandra. “Hey, how are you?” Remembering her manners, she went over and gave her a hug. Melanie would have done the same had she been mobile. She had just been in New York, as had Cassandra. What on Earth was she doing here?
“Well, this is quite the homecoming,” Jenny Sullivan said as she came in from the hall. She must’ve come in through the back door in the kitchen. Melanie watched her hug Tate, then look at Cassandra. “Hi. I’m Jenny.” She extended a hand.
Cassandra shook it. “Hi, I remember you. You were at the wedding.”
Jenny nodded slowly. “Yeah, I usually do go to my siblings’ weddings.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes and looked away.
Melanie felt her stomach tighten and wasn’t sure if she could watch this anymore. Here she thought she’d gotten away from Tate, but now…
“So, Mel,” Tate said. “How do you like the ranch?”
She smiled tentatively. “Same as when I was here for your brother’s wedding.”
He smacked his forehead. “Dang, I forgot. Sorry.”
Samantha clapped her hands together. “Well, are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”
“I could do with a drink,” Cassandra said. “The flight was awful.”
Tate put an arm around her. “Aw, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Speak for yourself. You slept through half of it.” She yawned.
“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,” Liam said, “but Aunt Samantha has two pies on the counter in the kitchen. I’m gonna have myself some. Anyone care to join me?”
Melanie raised her hand. “I will!” Any excuse to get out of there.
“Good – let’s go.” He waited for her to join him in the hall and together they disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the others behind.
“I’ll get plates,” Melanie volunteered. She felt the need to do something, anything. Maybe she should go for a walk. No, it was cold and dark outside, and with her luck she’d step in a gopher hole and reinjure her ankle.
“Better get a stack,” Liam said. “It won’t take my cousins long to mosey on in here.”
Melanie sighed and gritted her teeth as she went to the cupboard where she knew the plates were kept and began to count how many she needed.
Liam watched her a moment before he found a serving knife. “You and Tate friends?”
She glanced at him, trying to stay nonchalant. “Sort of. I guess.”
“You guess?” he said with a laugh. “You don’t sound real sure.”
“Yeah.” She took out a stack of dishes. “It’s just …”
Liam’s brow furrowed as he watched her. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”
She set the stack of plates on the counter with a clatter then quickly inspected the stack. She didn’t crack one, did she? “Like what?” she asked, keeping her face turned away from him. Doggone it, was it that obvious?
Liam chuckled low in his throat. “Nothin’. Never mind.”
Melanie breathed a sigh of relief. At least he dropped it. The last thing she needed right now was for Tate’s cousin to announce his observation of her feelings. Dang it, how’d he figure it out anyway? She’d just met him!
“Mom says she made cherry!” Tate said happily as he entered the kitchen. He went straight to Melanie. “I love cherry.”
“I know,” she said numbly, remembering he’d had cherry pie on one of their outings in Brooklyn. She noticed he was alone. “Where’s Cassandra?”
“Bathroom.” Tate took two plates from the stack, and Liam served him up a couple slices of pie. To Melanie’s surprise, Tate returned to her with one. “Here you go. Do you want ice cream with that?”
Melanie stared at the plate in his hand as if it was some unexpected Christmas present – or maybe something from a Yankee swap. “Oh, um … sure.”
He handed her the plate, went to the refrigerator and pulled a quart of French vanilla ice cream from the freezer. “Come here and I’ll scoop you up some.”
She crossed the kitchen to where he was digging in drawer for an ice cream scoop. “Was your flight really that bad?”
“Nah, Cassandra’s just cranky. She had a meeting before we left, and it didn’t go well.”
“Really?” Liam said. “That’s too bad.”
Tate nodded. “Yeah, well, she’ll get over it, I’m sure. There are other modeling jobs. She doesn’t always have to go to Paris.”
Melanie bit her lower lip. Cassandra, with the taste of one big shoot on foreign soil, probably thought she should hold out for only those jobs. But she was nowhere near the top of the modeling food chain – she still had dues to pay, lots of them. Most models understood this, but a few had visions of grandeur that clouded their every move. She hoped that wasn’t happening to Cassandra. Otherwise she’d make everyone else around her cranky.
And to top it off, Liam was looking between the two of them with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Then, as soon as Tate had his back turned, he gave her a big, conspiratorial wink. Melanie wanted to crawl under the kitchen table and hide.
Chapter 11
“Cassandra, could you put that quilt over there?” Melanie asked. She folded the one in her hands and set it on the hay bale in front of her.
Cassandra was still scrutinizing her surroundings. “It smells in here,” she said in disgust.
“What do you mean?” Casey asked. “It smells perfectly fine to me.”
Cassandra fanned her hand in front of her nose, still grimacing. “That’s because you’re used to it. You live here. To anyone else it’s disgusting.”
Casey and Melanie exchanged a quick look and rolled their eyes. “Welcome to the country,” Melanie said, folding another quilt.
Cassandra still hadn’t moved. Casey shook her head, grabbed the quilt out of her hands and spread it atop anot
her bale of hay. “There, that looks great.”
“What are you thinking?” Cassandra said contemptuously.
“Frolicking grannies,” Melanie answered with a grin, partly because it was a brilliant idea and partly to annoy Cassandra.
“Well, you always came up with good ideas before, Mel,” Cassandra commented. “But I don’t know about this one.”
“I’ll have to show you the sketches. Trust me, it’ll look great.” Melanie studied her a moment. “You feeling okay?” Cassandra could be a pill, sure, but usually not this much.
Cassandra’s eyes roamed the barn’s interior. “I don’t like it here. It’s dirty and stinky and reminds me of … poor people.”
Casey laughed. “Poor people?”
“Yes. Makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”
Melanie and Casey exchanged another look. What was this about? “The Sullivans are far from poor,” Melanie said. “Right, Casey?”
“Right. And even if I didn’t have money, I’d still be content living the way I am. I love my husband and I love his family. There are days I can’t imagine ever living in New York again.”
Cassandra’s jaw dropped. “But don’t you miss it? How can use stand to live out in the middle of nowhere like this?”
Casey held her arms out wide. “This isn’t exactly the middle of nowhere. Bend is only eighteen miles away and they have everything we need. Anything else I want, I can order online.”
Cassandra made a gagging noise and shuddered. “Then I’m glad I’m not you.”
Anger gripped Melanie. “What?” She shook herself and blinked a few times, still wondering if she’d heard her right. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m glad I’m not Casey. She’s married to this. Fine if that’s what she wants, but you wouldn’t catch me spending the rest of my life in a place like this.”