Cade Coulter's Return

by Lois Faye Dyer

  “What is it with men and fighting?” Julie asked wonderingly.

  “It’s a guy thing,” Kari Lucas said from the other end of the table. “I don’t think women will ever understand it—maybe it’s comparable to their inability to understand why we love George Clooney movies.”

  “You’re probably right,” Mariah said as philosophical nods of agreement went around the table.

  The waiter’s arrival interrupted them and they sat back to allow him to slide steaming plates of food on the table in front of them. As they ate, the conversation moved on to a discussion of the many reasons they’d universally loved Pride and Prejudice.

  It was after nine o’clock before they paid their checks, said good-night and left the table. Mariah lingered just inside the exit, chatting with Julie.

  “Come to the movies with Bob and me tomorrow night,” Julie coaxed. “It’s a romantic comedy and you know you love those.”

  “I’d love to but I should wait to see what’s going on out at the Triple C—just in case I have to…” A crash from the bar next door interrupted her and Mariah’s eyes widened. “What on earth was that?”

  “I don’t know.” Julie looked over her shoulder at the closed doors to the bar.

  “Let’s find out. Come on.” Mariah pushed open the swinging doors that separated the restaurant from the bar, Julie following her as she stepped over the threshold.

  They stopped abruptly, staring at the scene in front of them, the door swinging shut behind them.

  Cade Coulter and Jed Turner stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing three men in the center of the scuffed wooden floor. Several feet away, two men groaned loudly where they lay on the floor amid broken pieces of a table and several chairs. The three men who were still on their feet were disheveled and bruised, red stains on their faces and shirts.

  A tall, ruddy-faced blond cowboy wiped blood from his nose with the back of his forearm. “Hell, Jed,” he said with disgust. “Why didn’t you tell us your friend is one of the Coulters? I wouldn’t have taken offense if I’d known he was a local.”

  “Don’t let that stop you,” Cade drawled.

  “No, man.” A second cowboy held up his hands, palms out. “We have no problem with you using our pool table.”

  The bartender snorted in exasperation. “It’s not your table—it belongs to the bar.” He leveled a finger at the three cowboys. “And if you start one more fight in here, I’m going to eighty-six you for life. Now go home and sober up. And take your two friends with you,” he yelled after them as they headed for the door.

  The three paused to pull up the two prone cowboys off the floor, supporting them as they all staggered to the exit and disappeared outside.

  Behind them, Jed looked at Cade and laughed.

  “Damn, Jed,” Cade said as he visibly relaxed, his fists uncurling and tension easing from his big frame. “That was just like old times.”

  Jed Turner chuckled, clapping a hand on Cade’s shoulder. “Yeah, it was, wasn’t it? Brings back some memories.”

  Cade laughed, turning with Jed to resume their game at the pool tables several feet behind them. His gaze swept the nearly empty bar, stopping abruptly on the two women just inside the adjoining restaurant door.

  All the tension that had just drained away returned full force. Mariah stared at him, her eyes wide and an expression of stunned disbelief on her face.

  “Aw, hell,” he muttered.

  “What?” Jed’s gaze followed his. He nodded hello at the two women before looking sideways at Cade. “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” Cade said shortly, not moving. Damn, she looked good. He’d fantasized about what her long legs would look like out of her faded jeans but reality was even better. She wore a neat little black dress that looked like a long sweater and ended just above her knees. The dress clung to her curves and though it had long sleeves and a high rollover collar that ended just below her chin, it was sexy as hell. Her hair was loose, a silvery fall of pale moonlight silk against the black dress. Belatedly, he realized she had a coat slung over one arm.

  He glanced at the other woman and recognized the waitress from the café.

  He suddenly realized he was staring and abruptly nodded a greeting, waiting until Mariah nodded back. Then the other woman caught her arm and dragged her back through the door into the restaurant.

  “That’s one good-looking woman,” Jed said with male appreciation.

  “Yeah.” Cade turned away from the now-empty doorway and stalked to the pool table. Jed joined him and Cade narrowed his eyes, studying his friend’s face. “You know her?”

  “Sure I know her.” Jed picked up his pool cue and resumed the game, bending over the table to line up a shot. The cue tip hit the six ball with a crack and drove it into the side pocket. Jed unbent, rising to walk around the table while he considered his next shot. “I eat breakfast at the café with my brothers most mornings.”

  “Is she dating anybody?” Cade kept his voice neutral.

  “Mariah? Not that I know of.” Jed paused, apparently contemplating an angle, then moved on to another possible shot. “I took her out once but she made it clear she wasn’t interested in one-night stands. And you know me.” Jed shrugged. “I’ve got no interest in complications.” He bent and set up another shot but this time, the ball just missed the pocket. He stood back, resting the butt of his cue stick on the floor. “If I was interested, though, Mariah would be on my short list. Not only is she easy on the eyes, but I like her.”

  Cade ignored the surge of relief that Mariah didn’t belong to anyone and that Jed hadn’t slept with her. He didn’t want to think about why it mattered so much. He only knew Jed’s voluntary revelation that he hadn’t been with Mariah calmed the feral roar of possessiveness that took up residence in his gut.

  The image of Cade in the bar was seared on Mariah’s memory. She barely registered Julie pulling her out of the Black Bear. They said good-night, ducked into their cars and Mariah drove out of town while Julie drove the few blocks to her house.

  If Mariah had been given a test on her conversation with Julie after she’d caught sight of Cade, she would have flunked.

  She couldn’t focus on anything beyond what he’d looked like, knees slightly bent, fists half-curled at his sides as he and Jed faced off against those three men. He wore black cowboy boots, faded jeans and a black T-shirt that delineated the heavy muscles layered over his shoulders, chest and the six-pack of his abs. Beneath the short sleeves of the black tee, his biceps flexed with power. The air in the saloon had vibrated with danger and when he’d turned to stare at her, his green eyes were alive with heat and an energy that was electrifying.

  If she’d believed she could ignore the attraction she felt for Cade Coulter, she had the feeling she’d been wrong. She’d never met anyone like him before and the possibility that he might feel some of the passion he stirred in her made her shiver with anticipation. Yet she knew such thinking could only cause trouble, and when she climbed into bed later that night, she told herself firmly that she needed to focus on locking her feelings away.

  But when she fell asleep, she dreamed of him.

  Cade was awake, drinking his first cup of coffee in the kitchen when the lights from Mariah’s car swept over the windows. He glanced at the wall clock over the fridge.

  Five o’clock.

  He shook his head, his gaze tracking the glow of taillights as her car crossed the bridge, the red gleam growing fainter until it disappeared as the vehicle followed the lane around the bulge of a butte. Crazy hour for a woman to go to work.

  He carried his coffee down the hall to the office and settled behind the desk. He booted up his laptop and went online, searching the web for rodeo schedules. Neither he, Ned Anderson nor the investigator had located Brodie yet and Cade had a bad feeling about his brother. A competitor at Brodie’s level didn’t just drop off the rodeo circuit—not unless he’d been hurt.

  He’d resigned himself to waiting for Zach to hike
back down the mountain and return to cell phone zones although he had no idea how long that would be. And he knew Eli would surface, sooner or later. More than twelve months had already passed since Eli had last been heard from, so Cade figured he should be checking in pretty soon.

  But Brodie—yeah, he thought, he was definitely starting to get worried about Brodie.

  Maybe I should change the search parameters, he thought.

  A half hour later, Cade had a hit. A few lines in a New Mexico newspaper told him Brodie had been injured in a riding accident. The date of injury was several months earlier. He couldn’t tell from the brief sentences whether Brodie had recovered, but at least his name wasn’t in the obituary column.

  No wonder we couldn’t find him on the circuit, he thought, a sharp twinge of concern twisting in his gut. He hasn’t been riding.

  He copied the information and pasted it into an email, then forwarded it to the attorney’s and investigator’s offices.

  He glanced at his watch, frustrated when he calculated time zones and realized it was too early for records offices to be open at hospitals in New Mexico.

  He thrust his fingers through his hair and raked it back off his forehead in frustration. Much as he wanted to find Brodie, there was too much to do at the ranch to spend his days searching, not when the attorney and investigator were on top of the situation. This was one of those times when he needed to delegate, although when it came to his brothers, he wanted to be hands-on.

  He shoved back his chair and headed for the front door. Grabbing his hat and slipping into his coat, he left the house. Long strides carried him quickly across the yard toward the bunkhouse, where lights gleamed from the windows, telling him Pete was awake and hopefully, had breakfast started.

  Conversation over dinner in the bunkhouse that evening focused on Joseph and Melanie Coulter’s enthusiasm for collecting. Cade answered questions from the three but didn’t volunteer information on his own.

  Mariah was intrigued to learn that several of the locked buildings on the property had been used by Cade’s parents to store collections. They’d gathered saddles, tack, Pendleton blankets, antique conveyances that ranged from buckboards to stagecoaches—and given Cade’s reticence, Mariah suspected there were further collections. Joseph’s will had left specific collections to each of his sons but Cade didn’t elaborate on who got what.

  Not for the first time since hearing Indian Springs residents tell stories about Melanie Coulter, Mariah reflected that she must have been a fascinating woman and when she was alive, Joseph must have been a far different man than the sad, quiet man she herself had known before he died.

  When they rose from the table, Mariah carried her plate and utensils to the kitchen area along with the men but Pete insisted he was going to clean the kitchen. Since she’d cooked dinner, Mariah didn’t argue, saying good-night before taking her coat from the pegs just inside the door.

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Cade said behind her.

  Mariah immediately picked up on an undertone in Cade’s voice.

  “Fine,” she replied with a forced smile. He donned his Stetson and coat while she wrapped a muffler around her neck and slipped into her jacket, tugging on her gray wool hat.

  He pulled open the door and she went out, drawing on her gloves as she walked. Cade stepped out onto the porch behind her, pacing quietly behind her down the steps, then striding beside her as she set off on the lane to her house. The full moon high above them was a bright globe in the starlit sky, the clear silvery light casting dark shadows across the landscape.

  Cade waited until they were several yards away from the bunkhouse before speaking.

  “I’m borrowing a couple of pack mules from Jed Turner,” he told her. “And he’s going along to help hunt for cattle. I’m not sure how many of his brothers will be with us, but probably at least a couple. Which means,” he continued, glancing sideways at her, “we’ll have plenty of riders to cover the pastures and chase cows. You can stay home with a clear conscience.”

  She stopped abruptly, looking up at him. “I don’t want to stay home.”

  A flicker of impatience moved over his features. “Why the hell do you want to spend a week or more combing pastures, spending long hours in the saddle and sleeping on hard ground that’s likely going to be cold and wet?”

  “Because I don’t want special privileges for being female,” she told him. “I promised Joseph I would do whatever I could to help his sons hold the ranch. He wanted you all to return to Montana—and stay on the land where Coulters had lived for over a hundred years.”

  “But you are a female,” he said flatly. “In my world, that makes a difference. There’s no way I’m going to treat you like a man.”

  “I never said I wanted to be treated like a man,” Mariah snapped. “I said I don’t want to be discriminated against because I’m a woman.”

  “What discrimination?” Cade growled. “All I’m trying to do is spare you hard work under what will probably be miserable conditions. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing—if I had a broken arm or leg and needed care. But I’m a healthy woman, capable of riding a horse and chasing cows.” She glared at him. “This isn’t 1850, you know. Women have rights.”

  He snorted and muttered something inaudible under his breath.

  Mariah couldn’t quite make out his words but she had a pretty good idea what he meant.

  “Why am I not surprised that you don’t value a woman’s right to independence?” she said with a huff of annoyance.

  “You’re wrong,” he stated. “I value it. My mother was one of the most independent people I’ve ever known. But that didn’t keep her from letting my dad open doors for her or doing heavy lifting.” His green eyes fairly glowed with heat. “Because she was smart—and rational—and reasonable.” He bent nearer. “Men respected her because she commanded respect. Not because she filed a lawsuit to compel it.”

  Mariah opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that she agreed with what he was saying, but he spoke before she could form the words.

  “You can go cattle hunting with us, Ms. Jones. And you’ll get your wish—I’ll treat you just like the men. You’d better be damn sure you’re as good as they are.”

  He turned on his heel and stalked toward the ranch house. Mariah could only watch him go, speechless.

  His tall, broad figure climbed the porch to the main house and disappeared inside.

  Mariah turned, trudging the rest of the way to her cabin. As she went through her normal nighttime routine, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a mistake with Cade. She’d ridden out with Pete and J.T. on day trips before and always enjoyed the work. If Cade was determined, however, she was sure he could make the roundup an uncomfortable experience for her.

  But would he? She set her alarm and switched off the bedside lamp, staring at the moonlit white ceiling as she pondered the wisdom of insisting on going on the roundup when the boss had specifically said he didn’t want her there.

  Instinct told her, however, that though he seemed convinced she’d be better off staying at home, Cade Coulter wouldn’t purposely go out of his way to make her miserable. Just how she knew that, she wasn’t sure, but there was something intrinsically honorable about him.

  Reassured, she curled on her side and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Six

  Cade met with Ned Anderson the following afternoon.

  “Have you found out where Brodie went when he left New Mexico?” he asked after declining a drink.

  “Not yet. I talked to the investigator just before you got here and he says it’s as if Brodie walked out of the hospital and disappeared into thin air.”

  “Damn.” Cade removed his hat and dropped it on the floor beside his chair, raking one hand through his hair. “Where the hell is he?” His gaze sharpened over the attorney. “What did the hospital records say about his injuries?”

  “Broken arm and a few cracked ribs,” Ned said. “
The doctor who signed his release said Brodie left over his medical objections but he was walking. Nothing life threatening, evidently.”

  Ned rocked back in his chair, crossing his hands over his round belly, and eyed Cade over the rims of his glasses. “I hope the investigator finds some leads soon. Due to the manner in which your father split the assets of the ranch among you four, all of your brothers need to be found as soon as possible.”

  “I know.” Cade rested one booted foot on the opposite knee, frowning. “It’s possible we could raise enough money to pay off the taxes if we auctioned off Mom and Dad’s collections. But that’s not doable without everyone’s permission.”

  “Have you been inside the storage barns and the Lodge or cabins?” Ned asked.

  “No. I checked the buildings to make sure they were structurally sound with solid walls and roofs but decided to leave it to my brothers to investigate the contents.”

  “I suspect there may be auctionable items in your mother’s studio.” Ned considered Cade, his eyes shrewd. “Her work was worth a great deal before she died and has only increased in value since the accident. I believe Joseph told me that he sealed her studio on the ranch the day of her funeral and no one has been inside since, is that correct?”

  Cade nodded silently.

  “I cannot give the studio key to anyone but Eli, officially,” Ned continued. “But if the structure were unsound in some way and you needed to make repairs, as executor of the estate, I would certainly understand the necessity of you entering the building.”

  The attorney’s inference was clear. But Cade shook his head.

  “Much as I’d like to know whether Mom left something that might save the ranch, Ned, I can’t do it. At least not yet,” he added. “If Eli doesn’t check in before long, I’ll consider it.”

  The attorney shrugged. “Your choice, Cade. I wouldn’t have suggested you verify contents if I didn’t know how badly your father wanted to see his sons back on the Triple C. Losing the ranch to taxes never occurred to him, at least as far as I know. He was concerned with leaving each of you something of your mother’s in addition to equal shares in the land itself. That was his main focus.”