Cade Coulter's Return

by Lois Faye Dyer

  “Yes.” Mariah nodded, screwing the shiny metal lid back onto the glass salt shaker.

  “Which one is he?”

  “Joseph’s oldest son, Cade.”

  “Linda said he’s incredibly good-looking, but kind of scary.”

  “Scary?” Mariah frowned, considering. “I think he seems a little edgy.”

  “Did he tell you where he’s been all these years?” Julie asked, blatantly curious.

  “He said he was working in Mexico just before coming home but that’s all I know.”

  “I wonder where his brothers are? Have you heard from any of them?”

  “No, I haven’t. Although maybe Cade knows more about them.”

  “Well, I hope they show up soon,” Julie said. “Bob told me the taxes on the Triple C must be humungous and the sooner the heirs talk to the IRS, the better chance they have to work out a deal.”

  Since Julie’s husband was an accountant, Mariah assumed he’d had experience with the IRS and probably was right.

  She wiped spilled grains of salt off the wood tabletop.

  “I hope they’re found soon, too.” Mariah picked up the box of salt and moved to the next table. “Joseph wanted them to return and live on the Triple C. He’d be terribly disappointed if they can’t all be found.”

  The growl of powerful engines sounded in the street outside and headlights swept over the front of the café. Mariah glanced out the big plate glass window at six men piling out of two dual-wheeled pickup trucks.

  “Sally,” she said over her shoulder. “Here come the Turner boys.”

  Sally looked up, pausing at the far end of the counter where she was stacking clean pottery mugs on a tray next to the big coffeemaker. “Ed,” she called into the kitchen. “The Turners just drove up.”

  “Gotcha.” Ed’s rumbled response was followed by the sizzle of bacon being dropped on the hot grill. The Turners ate breakfast every morning at the café and always ordered a pound of bacon and two dozen scrambled eggs. Nobody bothered counting the number of refills on coffee—instead, Mariah delivered two filled carafes to their table and replaced them when they were emptied.

  The arrival of the six brothers who owned the Double Bar T ranch several miles out of town began the breakfast rush. Mariah quickly became too busy to ponder the enigma that was Cade Coulter.

  Cade spent the early morning hours going over the ranch’s books. The oak lawyer’s bookcase in the corner of the office held hardback ledgers that dated back to the late 1800s when the ranch was built. Fortunately, he didn’t need to review all the ledgers. He gave the last five years a careful inspection before briefly scanning the entries from the prior twenty years. The evidence was clear—income generated by the once-prosperous ranch had undergone a steep decline the year his mother died. The past five years showed a more gradual decline but nonetheless, it was clear that Joseph Coulter had been holding on by his financial fingertips when illness struck and wiped out his meager bank account.

  It was also clear that someone had been buying groceries and making payments on the feed bill in the months since his death.

  Since Mariah was the only person on the Triple C with employment away from the ranch, Cade guessed she must have been using her salary to keep the Coulter Cattle Company afloat.

  And damn if that didn’t stick in his craw.

  He slammed the last ledger shut and rose from the desk to return the book to its slot on the shelf.

  He strode down the hall, pausing to take his jacket and hat from the hooks by the door. As he stepped off the porch, Pete exited the machine shop, lifting a hand to catch his attention.

  “Hey, boss,” the older man called as he walked toward Cade.

  “Morning, Pete.” Cade stopped next to his truck, waiting for the ranchhand to join him.

  “Are you headin’ into town?” Pete asked as he neared.

  “Yeah.” Cade eyed the greasy metal gear in Pete’s hand. “I want to stop at Miller’s Feed Store and talk to them about the bill. Do you need something picked up?”

  “Yep.” Pete’s hands were smeared with black oil where he gripped the metal cogs. “I called the store in town and they told me they have a replacement part for this cracked gear. If we can afford it, of course,” he added hastily. “It’s for the hay baler. I know we won’t be needin’ the baler until summer but if I wait until then to work on it, more than likely we won’t have it running when we need it.”

  “Summers were always busy on the Triple C—and Dad kept us working all winter and spring repairing equipment,” Cade agreed. “I’ll pick up the part. I noticed the ranch books have an account page for Conners Parts store on Main Street. Is that who you called?”

  “That’s the place.” Pete nodded. “Andy Conners retired a few years back and his son-in-law runs it now,” he added.

  “I went to school with a Kathy Conners,” Cade remembered.

  “That’s Conners’s girl. She’s married and her husband is running the store now.”

  Cade shook his head. “Sounds like a lot of things have changed while I’ve been gone.”

  Pete shrugged, his blue eyes shrewd. “Time moves on, boss. Nothin’ ever stays the same—men get older and the kids take over.”

  “I guess.” Cade pulled open the truck door. “I have a couple of things to see to in town but I should be back with the part in a couple of hours.”

  “Sounds good.” Pete waved a greasy hand at the barn. “I’ll start workin’ on the backhoe’s brakes while you’re gone.”

  “Dad still has the backhoe?” Cade was surprised his dad hadn’t sold the valuable piece of equipment to raise cash.

  Pete nodded. “It still runs okay but the brakes are pretty much gone.”

  “You need any parts for it?”

  “I won’t know till I get it apart,” Pete replied. “Only thing I know for sure is that it needs some work. Probably a lot of work. Most things around here do,” he ended without rancor.

  Cade swept a quick glance over the ranch yard. “Yeah,” he said drily. “I guess they do.”

  “Things are bound to get better.” Pete’s gaze followed Cade’s before he looked back with a firm nod. “Now that you’re home, we’ll be able to get the Triple C back up and running the way it was before Joseph took sick. And when your brothers are found, there’ll be more men to share the work.”

  “Yeah.” Cade doubted whether things would work out quite as smoothly as the old ranch hand expected. He didn’t want to comment, though, until he heard from his brothers. He stepped inside the truck. “I only have the two stops at Conners Parts and Miller’s Feed, so I should be back in a couple of hours or less.”

  “See ya, boss.” Pete turned, lifting a hand in farewell as he ambled away across the gravel ranch yard while Cade drove off down the lane toward the highway.

  It was just after ten o’clock when Cade reached Indian Springs. He’d been focused on reaching the attorney’s office before closing time when he’d visited the town yesterday, but this morning he had time to drive slower and notice his surroundings. At first glance, the small ranching town seemed little different than when he and his brothers had left, years ago. On closer inspection, however, Cade noticed new shops tucked in among the old ones.

  He parked on Main Street and went into the parts store. Fifteen minutes later, he dropped the new part on the floor of the truck cab and crossed the street to Miller’s Feed Store.

  He stepped inside and was immediately awash in memories. One of his best friends during school had been Archie Miller, the son of the feed store owner. They’d spent hours hanging out and helping Archie’s father in the store. He’d paid them with ice cold soda on hot summer days and hot chocolate and burgers in the winter. The old building was redolent with the scents of hay, leather and an indefinable mix of aromas from sweet molasses grain and chicken feed. Fans turned lazily, suspended from beams below the high ceiling to push warm air back down into the store. The scuffed wooden floors creaked as Cade strode al
ong the aisle to reach the central counter in the back. The scarred wide wood counter hadn’t changed, nor had the early 1900s cash register that sat on top of it. But next to the cash register sat a laptop computer hooked up to a printer and fax machine.

  Apparently even Indian Springs was connected to the Internet, he thought with amusement. He half turned, scanning what he could see of the store’s interior but it seemed he was alone.

  “Thanks, Charlie. See you next week.” The deep voice sounded from the rear of the store.

  Cade looked down an aisle stacked high with bags of feed just in time to see the back door close behind a blocky man.

  “Be right with you, mister,” he called, taking off a fleece-lined suede vest as he walked toward Cade. “What can I…” He halted abruptly, a wide smile breaking over his features. “Well, I’ll be damned. Cade Coulter, you son of a gun. I heard you were back in town.” He strode quickly forward, holding out his hand.

  “Hello, Archie.” Cade clasped his friend’s hand, then thumbed back his Stetson and grinned at him. “I didn’t expect to see you here. The last I heard before I left town was that you’d married a girl from Helena and settled there.”

  “I did,” Archie agreed, a shadow dimming his smile. “But she died giving birth to our little girl.”

  “Damn.” Cade’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, well…” Archie shrugged. “It was five years ago. Life goes on.” He waved a hand, the gesture indicating the aisles of the store. “Dad has a bad heart and his health was declining—he needed me here so I packed up Kayla and came home. Been here ever since.”

  “How’s your dad doing?”

  “Better since he stepped back to working part-time. He and Mom take care of Kayla while I run the store—it works out for all of us.”

  “Sounds like your parents are lucky to have you—and you’re lucky to have them,” Cade said.

  Archie nodded, his expression somber. “I heard about your dad passing,” Archie told him.

  “We weren’t exactly on speaking terms when I left town.” Cade shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He and Archie had been friends in high school and knew each other’s fathers well. “That never changed.”

  “I heard,” Archie said. “Also heard the estate attorney was looking for you and your brothers. Where’d he find you?”

  “Mexico.”

  “No kidding?” Archie’s eyes were curious. “What were you doing down there?”

  “Working on a ranch.”

  “I thought you went into the military when you left town?”

  “I did.” Cade nodded. “I was shot up overseas a few years ago and when they offered me a desk job, I left. Sitting inside an office isn’t how I want to spend my life.”

  “I know what you mean. If all I did here was paperwork, I’d have to leave.” Archie’s gaze flicked over the high-ceilinged building filled with the scents of hay and leather before returning to Cade. “What about your brothers? Have you heard from them?”

  Cade shrugged. “I haven’t talked to them yet but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.”

  “That’s good.” Archie slapped Cade on the shoulder. “I bet the crew on the Triple C is glad you’re back.”

  “Pete’s an old hand so I’m guessing he’s glad to have an owner willing to take over the place. But as for the kid and the blonde…” Cade grimaced. “I’m not so sure.”

  “J. T. Butler’s been in and out of trouble since he was in kindergarten,” Archie commented. “Seems to have settled down since he landed out at the Triple C, so I’m guessing he’s happy to have one of you Coulters here to keep the place running. And Mariah…” Archie’s face softened. “Well, I can’t see Mariah Jones being anything other than downright happy to have one of Joseph’s sons home.”

  His comment reminded Cade that he’d planned to ask about those payments on the feed store account recorded in the ledger. “I assume she’s the one that’s been making token payments on the ranch’s feed bill?”

  Archie nodded. “I told her she didn’t have to because the estate would pay, sooner or later. But she was determined, said Joseph hated being in debt, so I took her money.”

  “The Triple C account is actually why I stopped in. I went over the books this morning. I’d like to pay off the line of credit you’ve been running for the ranch.”

  “I’m always happy to take money, Cade. But your family has a long history with the store and if you need to get feed on credit in the future, just let me know.”

  “Thanks, Archie. I appreciate it.” Cade took his wallet from his back pocket, waiting while Archie pulled up a file on the laptop and hit print.

  When he left the feed store some ten minutes later, Cade’s bank account was lighter and Archie had wrung a promise from him to stop by the house and say hello to his parents.

  His stomach growled and Cade glanced at his watch, realizing he’d last eaten dry toast and coffee at four o’clock. That was seven hours ago.

  He glanced down the street. A sign swung above a building a block away, declaring the Indian Springs Café was open for business. Cade strode down the sidewalk, noting with curiosity the businesses lining the downtown blocks of Main Street. Surprisingly, he recognized quite a few of them.

  He pushed open the door to the café and stepped inside, pausing to scan the interior. Damn. His quick survey didn’t find the silvery sheen of Mariah’s blond hair. The anticipation that had buoyed him and quickened his steps instantly deflated, replaced by a sharp twist of disappointment. His stomach rumbled at the aromas of fresh coffee, cinnamon rolls and hamburgers fresh off the grill, reminding him just how hungry he was and he searched the room with another quick glance, spotting an empty booth near the back of the big room. He’d barely had time to hang his coat and hat on the hook and slide into the seat before a dark-haired waitress appeared.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerfully, setting a glass of water in front of him and handing him a plastic-backed menu. “Your waitress will be with you soon.” She lifted a glass carafe of coffee. “Coffee?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  She grinned at him, quickly and efficiently filling his mug before whisking away to refill other customers’ cups.

  Cade glanced at the menu and set it aside. He leaned back in the booth, scanning the restaurant over the rim of his coffee mug. A middle-aged woman wearing an apron, white shirt and jeans, a pencil tucked into the blond curls above one ear, stood behind the counter. Facing her, three men dressed in battered cowboy hats, faded jeans and boots were seated on the round, blue-vinyl-covered seats of chrome stools, carrying on what seemed to be a good-natured argument.

  “I’m telling you, Sally, Mason Turner is the best bull rider in Indian Springs. In fact,” the elderly cowboy continued, “I’d bet money he’ll beat everybody at the county fair rodeo this summer.”

  “Nah,” the cowboy on his right hooted with derision. “Mason Turner can’t hold a candle to that youngest boy of Jack McConnell’s. Now that kid can stick on the back of a bull like he was glued there.”

  “The McConnell kid is pretty good, Asa,” the third cowboy put in. “Not sayin’ he can beat Turner,” he added hastily when the first cowboy turned on him with a ferocious frown. “But he’s pretty good.”

  Cade hid a smile. Asa Kelly had been a friend of his parents, as had the other two older men, Wayne Smalley and Ben Holcomb. The three had been friends since they were kids and were fixtures in Indian Springs, having lived there all their lives.

  “What do you think, Mariah?” Asa demanded.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” The feminine voice was underlaid with amusement. “I’m not taking sides—especially since I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Cade’s muscles tensed. He knew that voice, felt its sensual stroke over his skin, and all his senses came alive. He turned his head in time to see Mariah, just inside the door swinging closed at the far end of the counter. She carried a tr
ay loaded with glasses and moved behind the lunch counter to set the tray next to a big coffee urn. The blond waitress murmured to her and she glanced over her shoulder, her brown eyes flaring with awareness as her gaze met Cade’s. Then she turned back to quickly unload the glasses from the tray onto the counter.

  A moment later, she walked toward him, skirting the tables that filled the space between the booths lining the walls on two sides.

  Cade watched her draw near, aware that he was staring but unable, and unwilling, to look away. She was strikingly beautiful and yet seemed unaware of men’s glances that followed her passing. It was easy to see why his father had hired her to work on the Triple C and then left her a valuable piece of the ranch, he thought cynically. Mariah Jones’s pretty face and curvy body were enough to tempt any man—and Joseph had lived alone for a long time.

  “Good morning, boss,” she said, pencil poised above a pad, her musical voice polite and carefully neutral. “What can I get you?”

  “Morning,” he responded. Her lashes lowered, fanning in dark crescents against her fair skin as she glanced down at her pad. Cade waited until she looked up again and when she did, he knew a flare of satisfaction at the turbulence in her dark eyes. Knowing he wasn’t the only one caught in the web of sensual attraction that spun between them somehow eased the restlessness that rode him. “I’ll have a cheeseburger with everything.”

  “Anything to drink besides coffee?” She jotted a note and paused to glance up at him.

  “No, thanks.”

  She nodded and moved quickly to the next booth, where a young couple with a toddler were shedding coats and settling in. Cade’s gaze followed the slight sway of her hips.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Cade looked over his shoulder. Asa limped toward him, a broad smile wreathing his weathered face. Wayne and Ben were right behind him, their eyes bright with delight.