Tripp - Mavericks of Montana Creek Book One

by Somer Hayes

  “It’s not glamorous, but everyone is real nice, and it’s enough to make a living,” she’d said.

  I’d come back the next day and been handed an apron. And she hadn’t been wrong. Situated along the highway, we mostly got weary travelers and hungry truck drivers. There was nothing glamorous about my life, but I was getting by.

  I found a cute little hotel not far from the diner that offered low weekly rates and had been staying there.

  Mostly, I worked and slept. I found I didn’t have the energy for much else these days. Waking hours were dangerous. My mind constantly drifted to Tripp, and when it did, my heart ached.

  So I tried to either stay busy or stay asleep.

  But right now, I needed to be busy. So I got myself out of the stall, splashed some water on my face, and went back to the dining room.

  “You okay?” May, the sweet, older waitress who’d given me the job asked.

  I nodded and tried to offer a smile.

  “You know, you’ve been here a few weeks now. Maybe it’s time to go out. I know a place that makes a mean martini.” She smiled kindly.

  “Maybe one of these days, May. I’m just not there yet.” Some days I wondered if I ever would be.

  She patted me on the shoulder and went back to tending her tables. I knew I needed to get out of my funk not only for my own sake but for the benefit of those around me. Everyone here had tried to be warm and welcoming and invited me out for a drink or movies, even to church. But I’d had no interest. This felt like a temporary stop to me.

  My heart was still in Great Falls with Tripp.

  36

  Tripp

  “Enough,” I heard a voice say, and something kick the bottom of my boot. I was sprawled out on an Adirondack chair on my front porch, feet on a stool, hat low over my eyes. I had been trying to catch a snooze before my irritating brother showed up.

  “Piss off, Beau.”

  “It’s been a month, Tripp. Don’t you think you should return to the land of the living?”

  I pushed the brim of my hat up so I could look at him. “What would I do that for? We found an interim CEO who seems to be working out. I got no need to do anything but be here on my ranch where I belong.”

  “You’re acting like Dad did after Mom died. Holed up like a hermit, no interest in anything but feeling sorry for yourself and trying to drink the pain away.” His eyes moved to the empty beer bottles at my elbow.

  “Did you come here just to lecture me?” I asked.

  “Actually, I came because several of your herd are dropping their calves today, and I need your help.”

  Oh, right. I’d asked him to come. I groaned and pushed myself up out of my seat. “Let’s go.”

  “You sure you’re in any shape to be pulling calves?”

  I pushed him as I passed him. “Worry about yourself.”

  He followed me to the ATV, and we took off toward the pasture. It was a perfect summer day, blue sky, not too hot. Used to be I’d spend every minute from sunup to sundown out here on days like this. Lately, I just couldn’t seem to make myself interested.

  “Is this really all about that girl?” Beau asked me.

  He may as well have kicked me in the balls. The pain was about the same.

  “You wouldn’t understand.” I hadn’t filled him in on the back story with Hannah and her dad or the fire at our building.

  “Try me.”

  I shook my head. “She lied to me, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. It was something so trivial I wouldn’t have even batted an eye. But because of that, I don’t feel like I can trust her.”

  “Was the lie trivial to her?”

  I thought about that. “No, I suppose not.”

  “Did she have a reason for keeping the truth from you?”

  “Yes, I suppose she did.”

  “Tripp, you are such an idiot.”

  I had to admit, the more time that passed, the more I thought he might be right. What had seemed like insurmountable issues at the time now seemed trivial. So what if she didn’t like to talk about her family? That didn’t affect me any. So what if we’d lost a few pieces of equipment? Insurance covered it anyway. And did I think she’d burned down her own business?

  No, I didn’t.

  I scrubbed a hand down my face and cursed.

  “That’s what I thought,” Beau said smugly earning a punch from me.

  “Not sure it matters. She left, and I haven’t heard anything from her since. It’s obvious she’s done with me, and I can’t blame her.” I thought back to the way I’d treated her, the things I’d accused her of, and I felt ashamed.

  “Have you tried calling her?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “So you have no idea how she’d react to hearing from you. She might be happy.”

  I remembered the way she stormed away from me at the fire and sincerely doubted it.

  “I’ve never seen you hung up on a girl like this,” Beau continued. “She must be something special.”

  Of that, there was no doubt. But I’d have to worry about all that later. We’d just gotten to the pasture where several hands were already working on pulling calves. We had a busy afternoon ahead of us, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted by thoughts of Hannah.

  However, that didn’t stop me from thinking about her the second we were finished, and I was headed back to the house. We’d had a successful day, and several new, healthy head of cattle to show for it. Days like this were among my favorite, and, of course, I wondered what she would have thought of seeing all the new life on the ranch.

  I could picture her bright smile and big blue eyes, and I ached at the thought of missing moments like these with her.

  But I’d acted like such an ass that I didn’t know if I could ever forgive myself, let alone ask her to forgive me.

  I turned it over in my mind in the shower that evening and chewed on it some more during a quick dinner I made for myself.

  I almost had myself convinced that a call wouldn’t hurt anything. Just to see how she’s doing. Maybe she’d listen to me long enough to let me apologize.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and found her name. Before I could change my mind, I hit the call button.

  37

  Hannah

  I was in the middle of the dinner rush when I felt my phone vibrate in my apron. I pulled it out, and my heart nearly stopped.

  Tripp was calling me.

  It rang once, twice, and then stopped before I had found the courage to answer. Two rings. Had he actually meant to call? Or was that a butt-dial, and he’d hung up once he realized whose name was on the screen. I waited a few more minutes to see if he would call back, but he didn’t, and I decided it must have been an accident after all.

  My heart fell at the thought of it. What a cruel trick of fate.

  I’d spent these past weeks thinking about Tripp’s and my time together and how I’d messed it up over something so stupid. I wondered if he thought about me, and if he was, what was he thinking? Was he still angry with me? Did he still believe I was responsible for all those awful things that had happened?

  Maybe he was calling to yell at me. Maybe it wasn’t a phone call I wanted. But my heart twisted. Yes, it was. I’d give almost anything to hear his voice again. I missed him every moment of my day.

  I hated it here. I hated the job. I hated going home alone at night to a hotel.

  But I also hated the thought of returning to Great Falls and running the risk of seeing Tripp or worse, my father.

  The irritating ding of the order bell sounded again, and I looked over at the table of sniggering sorority girls I needed to deliver food to. I gazed around the diner full of strangers and co-workers whose last names I hadn’t bothered learning. I thought of the sad, empty hotel room waiting for me.

  Then I thought of Great Falls. I thought of the neighbors and business owners who had made it a point to love me and welcome me perhaps because of and not despite whose daughter I
was. I thought of the lovely bakery I had created from scratch. I thought of Beth and the Miller family. I thought of Tripp.

  That was home. Even with the hurt and hard feelings and difficult memories.

  I needed to go home. I had recreated my life once already. I would be damned if I wouldn’t do it again.

  Decided, I yanked the apron from my body.

  “May,” I called. “I quit.”

  She poked her head out of the kitchen and gave me a thumbs up. “Good for you, honey. And good luck to you.”

  I walked out of the greasy little diner and never looked back.

  38

  Tripp

  Coward, I thought to myself as I hung up the phone. You absolute coward.

  But as the second ring had sounded in my ear, an absolutely terrifying thought had occurred to me. What if Hannah didn’t want to talk to me? What if she hadn’t forgiven me? Hated me, even?

  I didn’t think I could deal with it. I’d almost rather continue on in this realm of not knowing than dive into certain knowledge.

  And so I ended the call.

  Lost, not knowing what to do next, I picked up my keys and got in the truck. Drives always seemed to help me clear my head. Maybe I’d swing by and check on Dad. It’d been several days since I’d talked to him.

  I pulled up to the main house and found him in his chair on the porch. He raised a hand in greeting.

  I hadn’t outright apologized for my outburst after the theft, and he hadn’t exactly apologized for his role in it, but we’d found our ground again.

  “How’s it going, old man?” I asked and took the seat next to him.

  “I may be old, but I can still take you,” he retorted, and I was glad to see a twinkle in his eye.

  “What’re you drinking tonight?” I asked. It didn’t look like whiskey.

  He picked up his glass and rattled the ice at me. “Good, old-fashioned iced tea.”

  “Virgin?” I asked and hoped I didn’t sound too disbelieving.

  “Thought I might see how sobriety suits me,” he said, his eyes on the mountain range.

  I sat in stunned silence, not sure how to respond.

  “You were right,” he said at length.

  “About?”

  “Everything. I’ve been wallowing in my own pity party for too long. I’ve ignored you boys and the businesses. It’s time I straighten up.”

  “What brought this on?”

  He gave an easy shrug. “Your mom enjoyed a neat glass of whiskey as much as the next woman, but she hated when I drank too much. It occurred to me the other day how disappointed she would be in how I’ve been acting. I want to do right by her.”

  “We’ll be glad to have you back.”

  He inclined his head. “I think the interim is doing an okay job, but I’ve got a few ideas.”

  I grinned at that. He was coming back to us.

  “I never thanked you.”

  I looked over at him. “For?”

  “Everything. You stepped up when I needed you most. I didn’t even have to ask. I don’t know where we’d be right now if it weren’t for you.”

  I scoffed. “It’s never been my strong suit.”

  He pierced me with that clear blue Maverick gaze. “You did a fine job, boy. A fine job. I’m very proud of what you did for us. And grateful.”

  I cleared my throat at that. I’d stepped in because I was needed, then hated every second of it. I knew I hadn’t handled things as my father might have, but I was pleased to hear he was happy with my performance.

  After that, our conversation turned to more comfortable topics like cattle, steak, and cigars. It felt just like the good old days when some collection of Maverick boys would join our parents on the deck for drinks and conversation. Our tribe was a little smaller that night, but I was grateful nonetheless.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened with the cook?”

  I grimaced. He chuckled.

  “It’s a long story.”

  He spread his hands. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

  So I launched into the story. I told him about how quickly I’d fallen for her and how I’d been made to feel like a fool through the chaos of the theft and fire. How I was miserable but didn’t know what to do next.

  He whistled low.

  “You can say that again.”

  “You’ve got it bad for this girl.”

  “I’m aware, Dad. Thanks.”

  “Reminds me of your mom and me.”

  “How so?”

  “We were both such strong personalities. We butted heads constantly. Challenged each other. Drove each other crazy.” He stopped to chuckle, and his eyes got a little distant. “But that was the secret to our success. I needed someone as strong as me to be my partner in crime. Lord knows raising you boys on a ranch this size wasn’t easy. She kept us all in line. Especially me.” He looked over at me. “You’re more like me than you probably want to admit. I’d always hoped you’d find someone as tough as your mom was. And if I can judge by that girl’s work ethic, the way she ran the bunkhouse and put you in your place… then I think you’ve met your match.”

  I thought of the way Hannah liked to boss me around, what a tight ship she ran, how quickly she’d gained the acceptance of the hands, and I knew he was right. She challenged me at every turn, and when I’d acted like an ass, she’d told me about it and left. Clearly, she wasn’t willing to deal with my bull.

  I had no idea where she was or if she was okay, and the thought of it made me sick. The fact that I’d pushed her away compounded my self-loathing.

  “Dammit all.”

  He laughed. “Hard lessons. I spent more nights in the doghouse than out.”

  “Sounds like misery.”

  “Oh, it is. Make no mistake, being married is the hardest job you’ll ever have.”

  “First, no one said anything about marriage. Second,” I paused. “Is it worth it?”

  “Every second. I’d give anything to have her back.”

  Funny. I’d just been thinking the same thing.

  39

  Hannah

  As luck or my perpetual curse would have it, the depressing garage apartment was still available, and the cranky old landlord was more than happy to accept my deposit and first month’s rent.

  I looked at the tiny kitchen with a new perspective and began turning my idea over and over in my mind. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d worked with less.

  I went to the bedroom and spread my quilt over the twin-size bed, then unpacked my clothes and hung them in the closet. Once I felt settled, I went to the grocery store and bought all the staples I’d need, plus some special ingredients I’d never used before but wanted to try.

  Back at the apartment, I pulled the small table from the living area into the kitchen as a makeshift pantry and organized everything just so. Then I set about rearranging everything in the kitchen to make it as efficient as possible. Once I had everything situated the way I wanted it, I found my favorite apron and got to work.

  For the first time in a long time, I felt invigorated and excited. It had been weeks since I’d baked something, the longest stretch I’d ever gone since I’d started in the first place. My hands itched to dig in the dough, I craved the scent of pies cooling, and I missed the warmth the oven created in the kitchen.

  My old standby. It didn’t matter what the rest of my life looked like. I had a skill, and that meant I could provide for myself.

  It was a lesson I would never let myself forget again.

  Several hours later, I had four new creations cooling on the counter. I felt a deep sense of pride and satisfaction at what I’d accomplished. My first instinct was to offer them to Tripp to taste test but knew that was no longer an option. Instead, I called the one person who was always hungry.

  Super pregnant Beth.

  An hour later, she and her mom squeezed into my loveseat, and I presented them each with a plate and a sampling of my new recipes.

  “Mmm, wh
at’s this?” Beth asked when she took her first bite of a cookie.

  “Lavender and rosemary.”

  “Genius.”

  I pointed to the rest of the concoctions on their plates. “Strawberry and basil mousse, milk chocolate cookies with sea salt, and a goat cheese danish with caramel drizzle.”

  “This is some of your best work,” Karen, Beth’s mom, commented, and I swelled with pride.

  “Tripp took me to an amazing restaurant, and I left there so inspired. I’ve missed baking so much.”

  “We’ve missed having you here,” Beth replied. “Have you talked to Tripp yet?”

  I shook my head. “I had a missed call the other day, but no message, so I assume it was an accident.”

  “This is a small town. I assume he’ll hear you’re back.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if he does.”

  Beth and Karen exchanged a glance. “You’re really not going to call him?”

  “He basically called me a liar, guys. He didn’t try to stop me from leaving. He hasn’t tried to get hold of me. It’s clear he’s done.”

  “But you love him,” Beth cried.

  The sting of tears pricked the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Enough about that,” Karen declared. “Have you decided what you’re going to do now that you’re back?”

  I pulled in a deep breath. “I have a little bit of savings and insurance covered the things I owned in the kitchen, which wasn’t much, but enough to replace the equipment I need. So I’ve decided I don’t necessarily need a storefront right now, and I’ll focus on catering out of this little kitchen until I get my feet back on the ground.”

  “How can we help?” Karen asked.