Mariah perched next to Sally on the top rail of the horse corral. A dozen dusty pickup trucks were parked near the ranch house; beyond the barn, two older men in boots and hats were feeding wood to a branding fire while horses and riders moved cattle through a chute, one by one.
Just to the left of the bunkhouse, close enough to easily access the kitchen, several men and women clustered around a spit where beef turned slowly. The aroma of barbecuing beef drifted to where the two women sat.
“I’m glad you could come out—and I can hardly believe Ed left Mac and Julie to run the café.” Mariah glanced at the group near the bunkhouse where Ed’s bulky figure stood out among the crowd.
“He went to the café at four a.m. to make cinnamon rolls,” Sally assured her. “But he told me there was no way he’d miss being here.”
Mariah laughed. “Well, trust me, everyone will appreciate his effort. The smell of the barbecue is already making me hungry.” She skimmed the ranch yard, unconsciously searching for Cade in the hive of activity. She found him with the branding crew near the fire. He’d shed his coat and worked in his shirtsleeves, wielding a branding iron with efficiency. As she watched, he lifted his head, laughing at a comment from a young cowboy holding the calf. “It’s wonderful that all Joseph’s neighbors have turned out to help his son,” she said softly.
“They would have helped Joseph, too, if he would have let them.” Sally laid a comforting hand on Mariah’s.
“I know.” Mariah had always known that Joseph’s isolation from the world of Indian Springs had been of his own choosing. Over the years, his neighbors had apparently come to accept and respect his wish to be left alone. “We—Pete, J.T. and myself—helped Joseph with a much smaller version of this each year. But we never had this many cattle and of course, since we branded more often, we didn’t have to handle any cattle this age and size.”
“Cade and the Turners don’t seem to be having any trouble,” Sally commented.
The words had barely left her mouth when a cow tried to escape the riders separating her from her calf and for a few minutes, dust stirred, men yelled, cows bawled and the noise was deafening. As quickly as it rose, however, it subsided as the riders shoved the cow back into the herd.
“Well, not too much trouble, anyway,” Mariah said drily.
“Nothing they can’t handle,” Sally said cheerfully. “I need to go check in with Ed and see if he needs any help with the food.”
“I’ll come with you.” Mariah climbed down from the top rail and the two women skirted the working men on their way to the bunkhouse.
“Carrie Petersen mentioned that Cade gave her and her friends permission to have an end-of-work party in the barn loft tonight,” Sally said as they walked.
“J.T. mentioned that earlier this morning,” Mariah said. She was delighted Cade had agreed to the teenager’s request and she enjoyed seeing the Triple C come alive with neighbors having a good time. Surely having his neighbors and friends rally round to help him was a powerful reminder to Cade that the Coulters belonged on the Triple C.
Later that evening, after the last calf had been branded and the barbecue pronounced a rousing success, the five piece band of local musicians set up in the barn loft and began to play.
Mariah went to her cabin to shower and change clothes and an hour later, left her cabin to walk quickly back down the lane. The sound of music, laughter and the pound of her neighbors’ and friends’ feet against floor boards as they gathered in the loft of the big barn grew louder as she neared. Carrying the black pumps she’d chosen to wear with a black wool skirt and pale blue cashmere sweater, she neared the bright square of light that poured from the open door.
A group of people clustered just outside called hellos as she approached and she returned their greetings, recognizing several of the teenagers in the crowd.
She stepped inside and carried her coat to the tack room, laying it over a saddle seat already piled high with jackets, coats and scarves. She tugged off her winter boots and slipped her feet into the high-heeled black pumps before smoothing her palms down the black wool over her hips. She tugged the hem of her sweater and straightened it before realizing she was nervous, purposely delaying going upstairs.
This was the first time she would see Cade in a purely social setting and she had no idea whether he would ignore her, treat her like one of the crew, or follow through on the promise of the heat in each glance he’d sent her since that kiss.
Regardless, she told herself with determination, she’d never been nervous about attending social functions at Indian Creek and she didn’t plan to start now.
She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and turned on her heel, leaving the tack room. “Hey, Mariah!”
Julie’s call halted her just as she reached the second wide plank of the loft stairs. Mariah looked over her shoulder and smiled at her friend and her husband just inside the doorway.
“Hi, Julie. You can drop your coats in the tack room—I’ll wait for you.”
“Great.” Julie caught her husband’s arm and tugged him with her. Moments later, they returned and joined Mariah on the stairs. “I’m so glad you called about the party. We were going to watch an old movie on TV tonight and this is so much more fun, isn’t it, Bob?”
Julie’s husband nodded, his eyes twinkling with affection as his gaze scanned his wife’s animated expression. “Much more fun,” he echoed. “Unless she tries to make me dance the tango,” he told Mariah with a straight face. “I don’t do the tango.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Neither do I, so I think you’re safe.”
They reached the top of the stairs and paused, looking over the big crowded space beneath the barn rafters.
“Wow.” Julie’s delight was heartfelt.
“Definitely wow,” Mariah responded. The teenagers had worked all afternoon, cleaning, sweeping, organizing, and the space looked great. They’d hung up bright wool blankets around the room and created a foot-high stage at one end where the band played. The wide-planked floor had been swept clean and bales of straw were arranged around the sides for guests to sit on. Sawhorses with boards laid across them and covered with sheets created tables along one wall where drinks and snacks were set out. The makeshift tables were also set up at intervals around the edge of the room and most of the folding chairs were filled with guests. “They’ve done an incredible job. I hardly recognize the loft.”
Julie nodded and opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by Sally shouting her name.
The three scanned the crowded room and located Sally, standing on the far side of the room, waving at them. Mariah lifted a hand to let her know they’d seen her and the three threaded their way around groups of people. The center of the room was thronged with dancers, shifting and swaying to the fast beat of a Kenny Chesney tune.
“Hi, you two.” The trio reached Sally and Ed, taking seats at the rough table. “How did you manage to save us seats? This place is crazy crowded.” Julie set her small purse on the table and lifted Sally’s glass to sniff. “What are you drinking?”
“It’s just punch.”
Mariah laughed at Julie’s raised eyebrows. “We couldn’t serve alcohol, Julie, not without a license. But anyone who wants to can bring their own.”
“Did you know that, Bob?” Julie asked her husband.
“Yes, honey, I did.” He took a small bottle of rum from his coat pocket.
“This is only one of the reasons I adore you.” She beamed with delight and gave him a quick kiss.
Mariah laughed at the smug satisfaction on Bob’s face. “You know her so well,” she said.
“That’s what makes a good husband,” he said with conviction.
“Is that true, Ed?”
“Absolutely.” Ed leaned over, making a smacking noise as he kissed Sally’s cheek.
As the couples bantered, Mariah felt a twist of wistful longing. Being part of a couple always seemed so attractive when she was around these four, because the
y were so comfortable with each other and open about their deep affection.
She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever have that level of intimacy with anyone.
“Hey, Mariah, wanna dance?”
She looked up and saw J.T. He held out his hand and when she hesitated, he caught her fingers in his and pulled her up out of her chair.
“J.T., I’m not sure I know how to dance to this,” she protested as he drew her onto the floor, tugging her along behind him. The music had a fast beat and couples spun and moved to the rhythm.
“I’ll teach you,” he told her with a grin. “It’s easy.”
By the time the song ended, she was out of breath, flushed and exuberant, blood pumping faster through her veins.
“This is fun.” She had to lean in to shout into J.T.’s ear because the dancers were shouting and stomping their feet, encouraging the band to repeat the song.
From behind her, a warm hand settled over the curve of her shoulder. Before Cade spoke, the shiver that spread from his hand and through her body told her who stood there.
Cade saw Mariah the moment she stepped into the room. Leaning against a support post at the far end of the big loft, he’d been watching the stairway for the last half hour and growing increasingly impatient.
The wait was worth it, he thought. Mariah’s hair was loose, brushing her shoulders and gleaming silver against her pale blue sweater. The sweater had a modest scoop neck and clung to the curve of her breasts, the long sleeves covering her to her wrists. A black skirt smoothed over her hips, following the curve of thigh to just below her knee but when she moved, a side slit parted to reveal, then conceal, a flash of smooth knee and thigh. She wore black high heels and Cade would have bet she thought the outfit was conservative.
She was wrong.
The blue sweater and black skirt covered her from shoulder to knee but it only made him want to peel them off her and explore the curves they clung to. And the flash of thigh made him want to stroke his palm up her leg to test just how soft her skin was beneath the fabric.
She lingered with another couple just past the top of the stairway, scanning the room for a few moments. Then they disappeared into the crowd. Cade caught glimpses of Mariah’s silvery hair as the three wove their way around people to join Sally and Ed McKinstry at a table. They’d barely sat down before J.T. drew Mariah out onto the dance floor.
When the music stopped, Cade joined them.
“Can I cut in?”
Mariah turned her head and saw Cade nod at J.T., his gaze hooded.
“Sure, boss.” J.T. stepped back, disappearing into the crowd before Mariah could protest.
The opening bars of a slow George Strait song quieted the crowd and Cade’s hand left her shoulder, stroking down her arm in an easy caress before settling on her waist. He turned her into his arms and she automatically slipped her hand into his, the other resting on his shoulder.
The powerful muscles of his arm flexed, shifting subtly beneath her hand as he drew her nearer and swept her into the dance steps.
Mariah closed her eyes and took in the faint spicy scent of his aftershave blended with the clean smell of soap, underlaid with a scent that was uniquely Cade himself. She felt surrounded by him—one arm around her waist, the other enclosing hers while his tall, broad body created a wall between her and the rest of the crowd on the dance floor.
“I wanted to thank you for organizing your friends and the neighbors,” he murmured against her hair. “It must have taken a lot of time and effort to plan all of this.”
“Everyone was happy to help,” Mariah replied, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. “They’re all glad to see you return to the Triple C and making the ranch come alive again—it’s such a good thing for the community.”
“Yeah?” One dark eyebrow quirked, his green eyes skeptical. “I wonder if they’ll feel the same if we have to sell the place to pay the taxes.”
“I hope that doesn’t happen,” she said gravely. “And I don’t see you letting it happen without a fight.”
“No, not without a fight,” he agreed. “But there’s no guarantee this is a battle we can win.”
“But you’re trying,” she replied with conviction. “I think the community turning out to help over the last few days is their way of saying they’re hoping you win—and stay in Montana.”
“You really think Indian Springs wants my brothers and me in the county? Despite all the crazy stuff we did when we were growing up here?” His eyes smiled, teasing her.
“Absolutely,” she said firmly.
“And how about you?” His arm tightened fractionally, urging her closer until her body was pressed to his from breast to thigh. “Do you want Coulters to stay on the Triple C?”
Her nipples beaded, breasts gently crushed against the hard muscles of his chest. Each step they took to the slow music moved her thighs against his, shifted her hips against his, and her body felt as if it was on nuclear meltdown. She slicked her tongue across lips gone dry and his eyes narrowed, turning to hot dark emerald as he followed the movement.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” His voice rasped, roughened.
Mariah realized he was struggling with the same desire that tortured her. She wished they were anywhere but here, surrounded by the crowd.
His eyes flared with awareness and she knew her expression must have reflected her wish for privacy.
Cade stopped dancing, caught her hand and drew her with him into a shadowed corner, where a thick roof-support post sheltered them from the crowd. His gaze held hers as he backed her against the wool Pendleton blanket hung over the rough wall, planted his forearm on the wall and leaned closer.
“I haven’t been able to forget that kiss,” he murmured, nuzzling the soft skin of her throat just below her ear. “In fact, I’ve been dreaming about it.” His free hand slipped around her waist. “I keep wondering if it could have been as good as I remember.” He lifted his head a fraction and looked down at her. “What do you think?”
“I think…we should try it again and find out.”
His eyes darkened with heat and his mouth curved in a sensual half smile. “Yeah, maybe we should.”
He lowered his head, his mouth taking hers with slow, coaxing persuasion.
The sensitive nerves just under her skin awakened, stirring awareness and unfurling tendrils of heat.
She slid her palms up his chest, over warm hard muscles and the solid curve of his shoulders, to wrap her arms around his neck. Her fingertips met the thick silk of his hair at his nape.
There was no sense of time or awareness of the crowd beyond the corner where they stood. There was only his mouth on hers, the press of his body against hers as heat and arousal, desire and need, roared to life between them.
“Come to the house with me,” he whispered, lifting his head at last, his lips moving against the shell of her ear.
“We can’t. This is your party—you’re the host. You can’t leave this early.”
He lifted his head just far enough to look into her eyes. “Later?”
Her lashes lowered, her heart beating so fast the thunder was loud in her ears. “Maybe. At my place.”
“I don’t care whose place—just don’t keep me wondering for an hour. If I have to stay and play nice, tell me yes.”
“Are we bargaining here?”
A slow smile curved his mouth. “No. I’m begging you not to tease me. I’m on the edge already.”
“Then the answer is yes.” She was done teasing, too. And now that the decision was made, anticipation curled through her body but her nerves seemed to settle, as if knowing how the night would end had temporarily calmed them. She ducked under his arm just as his hands tightened to pull her close. “But in the meantime, a good host should circulate.”
He caught her hand and pulled it through the crook of his arm, covering it with his warm palm to keep it on his forearm. “I’ll play the good host if you’ll be the hostess.”
“All ri
ght.”
“First let’s get some food, I’m hungry.”
They left the shelter of the corner, wending their way around the edge of the dance floor to reach the makeshift tables against the far wall.
Cade handed Mariah a plate and picked up one for himself, hesitating as he looked at the dozens of bowls and platters arranged down the long table. “Any suggestions?”
“Sally made the fried chicken, Ed baked the six-tier German chocolate cake, and Mrs. Petersen brought the potato salad.” Mariah pointed to the items as she listed them. “Don’t miss any of them, or you’ll regret it.” She scanned the table. “Actually, you should try everything—Indian Springs has a lot of great cooks and most of them are here tonight.”
“You want me to try everything?” Cade shook his head. “Honey, if I do that, I won’t be able to move for two days.”
She laughed. “All right, maybe you need to pace yourself.” She picked up a piece of Sally’s crunchy chicken. “Shall we join Ed and Sally, Julie and Bob when we’re done here? They have a table on the other side of the loft.”
“Sure.” Cade looked down at his nearly full plate. “We’re going to need somewhere to put these plates.”
He snagged two bottles of beer from a tub filled with ice. “Lead the way.”
He followed her around the perimeter of the loft.
“Hey, Mariah,” Julie called as they neared. “We were just wondering where you’d disappeared.”
“I was dancing with Cade.” Mariah set down her plate and sat, catching Cade’s arm to pull him down beside her. “I think you all know Joseph’s son, Cade, don’t you?”
Sally and Julie smiled hello, while Ed and Bob leaned across the table to shake hands.
“Great party, Cade,” Julie said.
“Thanks.” He smiled and looked at Mariah. “All the credit goes to Mariah and her friends. I didn’t have much to do with it.”
“You gave us a reason to have a party when you scheduled the branding.”
He shrugged, his smile wry. “That’s not much of a contribution.”
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