She nodded. “I took Sarge out about ten days ago. I had two days off in a row from the café and rode out both days so I had time to check most of the pasture.”
“Did you count cows?”
“Only those I came across—mostly I wanted to make sure the fences were holding. Pete was worried about the posts along the east boundary. He thought they should have been replaced last fall but Joseph told him not to bother.” She stared pensively out the windshield. “I think he didn’t feel well enough to ride out with Pete but didn’t want to admit it.”
A moment passed as he appeared to absorb her words. “So he was sick for quite a while.” Cade’s deep voice broke the small silence.
“He was slowing down for nearly a year before he finally went to the doctor and was diagnosed.” Mariah glanced sideways at him but his profile was turned toward her as he drove, his gaze focused on the lane ahead, and she couldn’t detect emotion on his features. “He wouldn’t let me write to you and tell you that he was ill,” she added softly. “He said he didn’t have the right.”
Cade flicked her an enigmatic glance. “Didn’t have the right? What the hell does that mean?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked him what he meant but he only repeated the words.”
“Huh.”
Mariah couldn’t interpret his noncommittal grunt, and the hard cast of his features and the set of his jaw discouraged further questions.
He slowed, braking to a stop and throwing the transmission into neutral a few feet in front of a metal gate blocking the lane.
Mariah unlatched her seat belt and reached for the door release but he stopped her with a quick gesture.
“I’ll get the gate,” he told her. “Slide over here and drive the truck through.”
He shoved open the door and got out. While he unlocked the gate and pulled it wide, Mariah scooted into the driver’s seat to shift the vehicle into gear and drive slowly through the opening. Behind her, Cade closed the gate. By the time he reached the truck cab, Mariah was once again in the passenger seat.
The lane quickly became more of a track than a road and the truck bumped and rocked over the rougher ground as they drove deeper into the pasture. Cade asked her several questions about the pasture conditions in comparison to prior years and much to Mariah’s relief, accepted her responses. She hadn’t been sure whether he’d listen to her opinions or whether he’d assume she wasn’t as knowledgeable as Pete or J.T.
And she wasn’t, she thought. Pete had years of experience on the Triple C and before that, on other ranches. Fortunately, Cade kept his questions confined to the knowledge she’d gathered during her weekly rides over the pasture acres.
At noon, they were miles from the bunkhouse kitchen and Mariah was glad she’d packed lunch.
When she stepped out of the cab to stretch her legs, Cade caught her waist and lifted her, seating her on the truck’s lowered tailgate. Mariah barely had time to catch her breath before he swung up beside her, the backpack between them.
“What did you bring?” he asked.
Mariah unzipped the backpack. “Sandwiches,” she told him, handing him a plastic ziplock bag. She removed another one and dropped it into her lap before pulling out several other plastic bags. “And potato chips, dill pickles, apples and cookies.”
He lifted an eyebrow, slanting her a look filled with surprise. “You brought all of that for both of us?”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been out riding fence with J.T. He’s a bottomless pit and he never remembers to bring a lunch—which means he always shares mine. If I didn’t bring twice as much food as I can actually eat, I’d starve.”
His grin widened, green eyes twinkling. “And you thought I’d be like J.T.?”
She shrugged. “I had no idea. But I’ve learned it’s best to be prepared.”
“Good plan,” he agreed.
The sandwiches were made of slices of thick ham left over from dinner the night before and the two ate in silence for a moment, sharing the bag of chips and pickles.
“This is really good.” He indicated his half-eaten sandwich. “Something about it tastes different—I’m guessing you didn’t use plain mustard.”
“No, I didn’t.” Mariah shook her head. “It’s one of my mother’s recipes—she mixed horseradish with a little dill into mustard for my dad. I always liked it so I still use the mix on sandwiches.” She smiled with fond remembrance. “My mom was a great cook—everyone in town wanted her recipes.”
“Where do your folks live?” he asked with curiosity.
“They’re both gone now but we lived in a small town outside Denver when I was a kid. They lived there all their lives.”
“Do you have sisters? Or brothers?”
Mariah met his gaze and read genuine interest there. “No, I was an only child.” She stared at a tall butte in the distance. “My parents were in their mid-forties when I was born. Mom told me they’d given up hoping for children. She passed away when I was still in high school and Dad followed her when I was a junior in college.”
She drew a long breath, a small smile curving her mouth. “Mom was insistent that I get a college degree—she had such plans for me. Even though she was gone, she’d instilled her dream in me and I applied at the University of Montana. I had scholarships and Dad helped with expenses. But then he suffered a massive heart attack the winter of my junior year.”
“How did you wind up in Indian Springs?” he asked, his strong teeth crunching as he bit into a pickle.
“I took a break from school and my part-time job the summer after dad died.” She nodded toward the horizon, beyond which lay the Triple C headquarters. “I was on a road trip, driving a loop around the state when I caught the flu and ran my car into the ditch on the highway only yards from the Triple C arch. Pete found me and took me home and Joseph let me stay for a couple of weeks until I recovered. I needed money to have my car repaired and fortunately, Sally happened to need a waitress. So I went to work at the café and four years later,” she explained as she spread her hands, “I’m still here.”
“So you never got the degree your mom wanted for you.” He eyed her. “What did she want you to be—doctor, lawyer, schoolteacher? Something that makes you a successful waitress?”
She laughed, her brown eyes lit with mirth. “I majored in business and public relations but I never thought I’d use it to work as a waitress. The truth is, however, my classes probably do apply to my work in some ways. I can’t afford to go back to school anytime soon, though I probably will some day—but I enjoy my job.” She shrugged. “I’m not saying I plan to stay at the café forever, but Ed and Sally are great bosses and I like the other women working there. Most of the customers are regulars from Indian Springs and the surrounding ranches and I’ve met some wonderful people and made some very good friends. In fact,” she mused aloud, “I’d say I’ve found a home here.”
“You don’t feel the small town where you grew up is still home?” Cade asked, tipping a bottle of water to drink, his green gaze fastened on her.
“Not really. Dad had to sell the house to pay medical bills after my mom passed away and then he died, too, and there didn’t seem to be a reason to go back. So…” Her gaze swept the rolling pasture dotted with sagebrush and the imposing butte rising to tower behind them. “I’ve stayed here. It’s beautiful country.”
Cade’s gaze followed hers and he nodded. “Yeah, if you’re a man and like horses, cattle and don’t mind driving a few hours to reach a shopping mall.”
“Works for me.” She popped a slice of apple in her mouth, chewed and swallowed while he stared at her.
“Most women wouldn’t think so,” he said finally.
Mariah smiled serenely. “I’m not most women.”
He stared at her for a moment. “No,” he said at last, his voice deeper, faintly rasping. “You’re not.” His thick lashes half lowered over green eyes darkened with heat.
His gaze dropped to her mout
h, lingered, and she caught her breath. At the base of her throat, her pulse pounded in a heavier, faster beat as tendrils of sexual tension spun a web between them. For a long moment, she thought he would reach for her, press his mouth to hers.
But then the line of his mouth tightened and in an abrupt move, he pushed off the tailgate, his boots hitting the ground with an audible thump.
“It’s late,” he said abruptly. “We’d better start back if we’re going to drop off the salt block and get you home in time for your meeting tonight.”
Mariah had forgotten all about her book club dinner. “Of course,” she murmured. Before she could jump down, Cade’s hands were at her waist and once again, he lifted her with ease. His hands didn’t linger and he was careful not to let their bodies brush as he lowered her.
They weren’t far from home when the ring of a phone interrupted Willie Nelson’s distinctive voice singing the lyrics of “Pancho And Lefty.” Cade flicked off the CD player and took a silver cell phone out of the cup holder next to his seat.
He glanced at the caller ID phone number and immediately thumbed the phone’s on switch.
“Ned—what’s up?” He listened for a moment before speaking again. “I’m away from the house, probably out of signal range. Sorry I missed your calls. Have you heard from Zach?”
Mariah held her breath in hope, unaware that she crossed her fingers.
“Damn.” Cade’s frown visibly reflected the frustration that throbbed in his voice. “How long?” He listened for several minutes, his frown growing blacker. At last, he growled a goodbye and switched off the phone, tossing it back into the cup holder.
“Bad news?” Mariah asked.
“Not good,” he said. “Ned finally located Zach’s personal assistant. It seems my brother’s climbing Mt. Everest, which is why I haven’t been able to reach him.”
Mariah felt her eyes widen. “He’s climbing Mt. Everest?” she repeated in disbelief.
“Yeah.” Cade flicked her a quick glance, a reluctant smile curving his mouth. “Don’t look so shocked, Ms. Jones,” he said with amusement. “That’s what Zach does in his spare time. Since we left Montana, he’s been climbing mountains, competing in Iron Man contests, swimming with sharks—you name the challenge, he’ll try it. If there’s a world record, he’ll challenge it.”
“I see,” she said faintly, thinking that she absolutely did not see. “Is that what he does for a living—compete in contests?”
“No, he competes for fun. He’s employed by a San Francisco company that buys up companies in financial trouble. Then they send Zach in to decide whether to restore the troubled company to financial health before his company resells it, or break up the company to sell off the assets. He’s brilliant at it.”
“He sounds like a shark,” Mariah said dubiously.
“I’m not sure that’s accurate but it’s pretty close,” Cade agreed.
Mariah returned to the bigger question. “Can’t you reach him by satellite hookup? I thought climbers on Mt. Everest were closely monitored by safety teams?”
“That’s true for most climbers, but Zach’s old-school—and he likes to take risks. He isn’t carrying a cell phone, or a computer with a satellite link which means he’s essentially out of touch and unreachable until he’s back down the mountain.”
“Did his assistant have any idea when that might be?”
“She thought it might be a few weeks but with Zach, who knows.” Cade’s voice was grim. “He told her that she didn’t have to return to work for another month at least but she’s not sure if he was coming straight back to the States after the climb. He’d mentioned something about stopping to surf the North Shore in Hawaii.”
Mariah nearly groaned out loud. “What about your other brothers? Have you located them?”
“No.”
“What do they do?” Mariah asked, unable to control her curiosity.
“Brodie’s a professional rodeo bull rider—he was all around national champion a couple years ago. Eli’s a silversmith and a damned good one. He inherited our mother’s talent.”
“My goodness,” Mariah said faintly. “You’re a very exceptional family.”
“Eli is,” Cade agreed. “The rest of us—well, we’re pretty much still doing what we’ve done since we were kids.”
Mariah wasn’t so sure—it seemed to her that Joseph Coulter’s sons were bigger than life and maybe, just maybe, twice as dangerous. And the more she learned about Cade, the more he intrigued her. Spending time with him also seemed to make the sensual pull she felt even stronger.
She wasn’t sure she trusted the strength of that attraction between them.
Chapter Five
That evening, Mariah parked outside the Black Bear Bar & Restaurant in Indian Springs just before six o’clock. It was good she was getting away from Cade and the Triple C for a few hours. She needed to be with women and air filled with estrogen, not high-octane testosterone.
Which pretty much describes Cade Coulter, she thought. High-octane testosterone. Maybe that was why she felt hyperaware of her femininity around him.
She caught up her purse, tucked her copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice into the bag and slid out of her car. Her heels clicked on concrete as she crossed the sidewalk and pulled open the door to the restaurant. A wave of delicious aromas from grilled steak to planked salmon greeted her and she realized she was hungry, starving actually. Waving hello to several customers and waitresses, she crossed the dining room to a semi-secluded alcove in the back where three tables had been pushed together and covered with a white tablecloth.
“Hi, Mariah.”
She returned greetings from the five book club members already seated at the table, dropping her purse on a seat next to Julie. Easing out of her coat, she hung it on the back of the chair, took out her book and stashed her purse beneath her chair as she sat.
“How did your meeting with your boss go yesterday?” Julie asked. Mariah had told her she had to hurry home after work at the café to go over the books with Cade.
“Fine—he was nice actually.”
“You’re so lucky.” Julie sighed. “A boss who’s nice and gorgeous.”
Mariah laughed. “Yes but unlike Ed at the café, Cade can’t bake cinnamon rolls.”
Sally and her friend, Renee, bustled into the restaurant, reaching the alcove amid a chorus of greetings.
“Let’s order,” Sally suggested when the two had shed coats and were seated across from Julie and Mariah. “I’m starving.”
For the next few moments, the conversation centered around the menu, but finally their orders were given to their waiter and drinks sat before them.
Mariah sipped a glass of white wine, confident that any effects would have worn off before she began the drive home in a few hours.
Across from her, Renee licked a bit of salt from the rim of her glass, sipped her margarita, then made a small sound of satisfaction.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” she said. “It’s so nice to share a table with a group of women instead of men.”
Her words rang with heartfelt conviction and the other women laughed. Renee worked as housekeeper for the six Turner brothers and it was universally agreed that she was probably the only woman in Indian Springs, perhaps in all of Montana, who could survive in the all-male household.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Mariah said. “In fact, I was thinking on my way in to town that it was going to be so nice to be surrounded by clouds of estrogen instead of testosterone.”
Beside her, Julie nearly choked on the wine she’d just sipped. Sally burst out laughing and lifted her stemmed glass.
“Hear, hear,” she said, her words echoed around the table amid laughter.
“Speaking of men, I understand one of the Coulter boys came home,” Renee said, eyeing Mariah with interest. “Which one?”
“The eldest—Cade.” Mariah thought she injected just the right note of bland interest in her answer.
She’d been asked the question so many times at the café a day earlier that she’d had more than enough practice.
“Ah, I remember him,” Renee said with a nod. “He was a school friend of Jed’s.” A reminiscent smile curved her lips. “The trouble those two could get in to doesn’t bear repeating.”
“Oh, come on, Renee,” Julie urged, leaning forward. “Tell us.”
Mariah badly wanted to hear more, too, but didn’t want to appear too interested. Indian Springs was a small town and its residents loved nothing more than to speculate about the unmarried people. She didn’t want anyone starting rumors about her and Cade.
Especially when she suspected she was far too interested in him for her own good.
Still, she was glad when Renee gave in to the urgings of Julie and the other women at the table.
“All right, all right,” Renee conceded with a laugh. “Jed and Cade were about twenty-one years old that year, I think. Brodie was riding in a rodeo at Wolf Point and carloads of his friends drove over to watch him. Which meant half the young men from Indian Springs, from fifteen to thirty, were there. I think there was drinking involved….”
“No!” The women chorused, rolling their eyes and laughing when they realized they’d all responded with the same amused comment.
“Yes,” Renee confirmed. “Anyway—I’m not sure what actually started the fight but Jed later insisted that someone made an insulting comment about Brodie’s mother. That was enough to have the Coulter brothers fighting and Jed always said no self-respecting Turner could let them fight alone. The four Coulter boys and the six Turners took on all comers—and they were outnumbered three to one. Rumor has it that Cade and Jed were the last ones standing, back-to-back, bloody, bruised and laughing.”
“Did anybody go to jail?” Mariah asked.
“Not that I remember—but they were fighting on the backside of the fairgrounds where the rodeo chutes are and they had to rebuild a few of them.” Renee smiled fondly. “Cade and his brothers left town the next year, the day after Eli graduated from high school. Without Cade, Jed settled down. He and his brothers still get involved in throwing punches every now and then but nothing like when they were younger.”
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