“You know what the doctor said.” His mother had perfected the don’t-you-dare-argue-with-me stare. “You can’t risk reinjuring that shoulder.”
Yeah and in the meantime, he was losing his mind. He’d never been one to sit still. His mom had told him once he’d started crawling, he’d left her in his dust, and she’d been chasing him ever since.
“Dad is driving down to Denver today.” His mother buttered a piece of toast. “You should go with him.”
“Actually, I promised Ethan I’d head over to the café. He and Beth have some wedding stuff they want to talk about.” As if they needed his help with any of those details. But it was better than making small talk with his father on a two-hour drive down the mountain. The ability to keep conversation light, and entertaining, was a skill he’d inherited from both his parents. But being home again was reminding him of all the things they didn’t talk about, of how they tiptoed around the lingering pain left behind by his brother’s death, and the silence between them had become deafening.
“I can’t believe the wedding is coming up so fast,” his mother chatted. “Those two make such a cute couple.” She went on about Ethan and Beth, and how amazing it was that they’d been together so long, but Toby wasn’t listening.
What would happen if he asked his mother to put out the pictures of Tanner they’d packed away when they’d moved here the year after his brother died? Or he could ask his father if he remembered that summer they’d taken the Disney cruise…their last vacation as a family. But they didn’t do that. They didn’t confront things that made them uncomfortable. They simply skirted around the past like it was just another piece of furniture in the house.
And everyone wondered how he’d become such a good performer inside the arena.
“Before you go, why don’t you bring down your laundry?” his mom asked sweetly.
Toby caught her in a deadpan stare. “I’m capable of doing my own laundry.” Hell, he’d been doing his own laundry since he’d moved out and he’d only ever ruined one pair of socks.
“You need to take it easy,” his mother reminded him for the thousandth time since she’d coddled him in his hospital bed after the surgery. “Besides that, you don’t know how to work our washing machine. It’s finicky.”
“Right.” Toby shot her a grin meant to call her out. “The washing machine is finicky. Okay. Sure.”
“Hey.” His mom tossed a napkin in his direction, but she smiled too. “I have certain ways of doing things, that’s all. Forgive me if I have nightmares about the red socks mixing with the delicate whites.”
“It’s no big deal.” Toby waved her off. “I do it all the time.” What he didn’t do all the time? Discuss laundry over breakfast. It was a crying shame that this is what his life had been reduced to.
Grabbing one more piece of bacon, he pushed away from the table. “Gotta head out. Promised Ethan I’d be there by eight.” To be honest, Ethan hadn’t even requested his presence at the café today, but Toby couldn’t sit here with a whole day of nothing looming in front of him. Being back home made him too antsy. It gave him too much time to think. He had to get out. He had to do something.
“Don’t forget to bring your laundry down,” his mother called, but he was already halfway to the front door.
“I’ll do my own laundry later,” he yelled back, jogging the rest of the way before she could counter.
Not convinced she wouldn’t chase him right out to his truck, Toby loped across the yard and jumped into the driver’s seat, giving the engine a good rev before he peeled out. It felt good to drive away—from the house, from the sadness his mother was always trying to compensate for. Even though it was still cold, Toby rolled down the windows and let the brisk wind hit his face. The only thing he remotely liked about being home was seeing those mountains again.
The peaks rolled past the windows, still looking soft and blue in the early morning light. Somehow, over the years, those mountains had grounded him, they’d shaped him. Maybe it was the mountains that had made him reckless and wild. For so long they’d fed his hunger for adventure. Funny, the very place that had bred that in him now made him feel trapped.
Toby rolled through town. Not much had changed in Silverado Lake since he’d moved here as a brokenhearted kid. The square brick buildings still lined Main Street with shout-outs to the town’s mining heritage—wooden boardwalks instead of sidewalks, saloon doors on the antique shop. Then there was the library. Toby slowed the truck to admire what his anonymous donation had bought the town. It still had an old west feel to it with the stone façade and columns, but it was also the grandest building in the entire town—as a library should be.
He might not have been free to acknowledge his lost twin brother at home, but the last time he’d come to visit he’d realized he could honor his brother’s memory another way. The library was raising funds for a renovation and he’d donated money anonymously, so his family would never know, but the plaque on the outside of the refurbished library read IN MEMORY OF TANNER.
Tanner had loved to read. And when he’d gotten too sick to focus on the words, Toby had read to him. The only thing his brother wanted in life was to be a cowboy, and they knew he never would be—not with his condition. So, Toby had made weekly trips to the library in their old town to check out every book he could on cowboys. Toby had known he couldn’t save Tanner, so as he would read, he would change the characters’ names and make his brother the hero of every story. When he couldn’t get to the library, he’d make up his own stories to tell him—stories about two brothers who took on the wild west.
Driving past the library, he shook off the memories. Maybe his parents had it right. Maybe it was better not to think about it or talk about it. We have to move on—that’s what they’d always said. So, he’d force himself to move on yet again.
Ethan and Beth’s café sat on the outskirts of the main drag, one of the more modern-looking establishments in town. They’d whitewashed the exterior bricks and added black shutters like you might see at a café in Paris. Not that Toby had ever been to Paris.
Diesel trucks and four-wheel-drive SUVs packed the parking lot at the Surefire Café. Toby squeezed his truck into a spot near the doors. It wasn’t T-Mobile Arena, but at least there was a crowd here, and the people in town loved a good bull-riding story. Toby was always happy to oblige. Once a storyteller, always a storyteller.
He sauntered through the doors already knowing that Chester, Jimmy, Bruce, and Matthew would be seated right inside the doors lamenting over the shoddy newspaper coverage of the town’s most recent scandal—the anonymous “vandals” who had put a bright pink tutu on the town’s bronze statue of miner George Jackson. The retirees had spent every Saturday morning in that same booth since Beth’s uncle had bought the diner twenty years ago.
“Tobster, what’s up?” Bruce dropped the newspaper and raised his hand for a high five as soon as Toby stepped inside.
“How’s it goin’, man?” Chester quickly started to clear the end of the table. “Pull up a chair, have a seat.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Toby found an empty chair at a nearby table and dragged it over, straddling it.
“How’s the shoulder?” Matthew eyed Toby’s left shoulder as though trying to assess the injury. “Sure looked like a nasty one.”
“It’s good.” Toby shrugged to prove he could still move it. Never mind the achy stiffness. That would go away in time. “It’s practically all healed up.” Maybe if he said it enough, that would eventually be true.
“Woweee, I watched that clip.” Jimmy shook his head. “The way that bull tossed you? I thought you were a goner.”
“It darn near stepped right on you,” Chester added.
“I held on over eight seconds though,” Toby reminded them, lest they forget it had also been one of the best rides of the event. Before his shoulder had snapped. “I thought I had him.” Toby felt it again—that rush of adrenaline deep in the center of his chest. “I was almost r
eady to jump off, but then the bull spun into that one-eighty.”
“Damn, but what a fight you put up, boy.” Jimmy raised his coffee mug. “I’ve watched every ride. You wanna know something? You’re one of the toughest SOBs I’ve ever seen out there.”
He wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt like hell sometimes. But riding made him feel closer to his brother. It was one way he could keep Tanner’s memory alive, if only for himself. “Well, it means a lot to have my hometown behind me.”
Matthew slid over an empty mug and the coffee carafe. “So, what’re you doin’ these days? How’re you keepin’ yourself busy?”
“I’m not.” Toby poured a full mug of the rich black coffee. His mom made it too watered down for his taste. “Unfortunately. Doc hasn’t given me clearance yet.” He eyed the gentlemen sitting around him. In fact, this could be the best crowd to talk to about his current predicament. “I’m looking for something to keep me busy. Got any ideas?”
“I heard Mara Harding is looking for help out at the ranch,” Chester said. “It even comes with a place to live as far as I understand it. There’s a caretaker cabin right on the lake.”
Mara Harding. He remembered her. Remembered her daughter Jane too. How could he forget? “Is that so?” Working at the ranch could be interesting. At least it would get him outside.
“She’s sitting right over there.” Jimmy pointed to a booth on the other side of the room. “Maybe you should talk to her.”
Toby studied the woman. He’d always admired Mara Harding. After losing her husband, the woman had taken the family’s dude ranch and turned it into a successful destination wedding venue. “You know, I think I will talk to Mara.” Toby pushed himself up to a standing position, temporarily forgetting about his bum shoulder. “Thanks for the chat, gentlemen.”
“You bet.” Chester raised his coffee mug. “You tell her she’d better hire you or she’ll have us to answer to.”
Toby couldn’t help but grin as he walked away. Knowing what he knew about Mara, she wouldn’t hire him unless she wanted to, gang of retirees doing their best to persuade her or not.
Mara watched him approach but he couldn’t read the expression on her face. “Hi there.” Toby smiled as he pulled out the chair across from her and sat. The woman looked remarkably the same as she had when he’d been in high school. Her hair had grayed around her temples, but other than that, Mara’s face still had that regal porcelain skin set off by wise brown eyes.
“Well, Toby Garrett.” A reserved smile held a fair amount of distance between them. “I heard you were home. Your mama’s delighted, torn up shoulder or not.”
“She sure is.” His mother probably hoped he’d never be able to climb back onto a bull. If she had her way, she’d keep him at home. Hence his reason for sitting here. He might as well get down to it. “Hey, I heard you’re looking for some help around the ranch.”
“I am.” She lifted her coffee mug and held it in both hands as though her skin was chilled. “My maintenance man took off to be a traveling musician.” Exasperation laced her voice, but her expression didn’t change. “I guess that’s what you get when you hire a guy who lives in his van.”
Toby had to laugh. “Some people were meant to be rolling stones.” Until they got sidelined with an injury and stuck in their hometown again, that was. “But it’s your lucky day because I happen to be looking for a job.”
Mara chuckled. “You’re looking for a maintenance job?” She set down the mug and leveled him with a skeptical glare. “Something tells me you don’t need a job.”
He might not need the money, but he couldn’t sit still anymore. “Oh, trust me. I need a job. I need to stay busy while I’m here. And it wouldn’t hurt to have my own place either,” he added, allowing his eyes to plead with her.
Mara’s chin tipped up with both amusement and understanding. “It’s always hard coming back home, isn’t it?”
“Hard” wasn’t quite the right word. Frustrating. Maddening. Claustrophobic. “You have no idea.”
Mara folded her hands on the table as she gave him a thoughtful look. “What about your shoulder? Your mother will have my head if you hurt yourself again.”
“My shoulder is fine.” He did the arm raises his PT had shown him and even managed to conceal the wince. “It’s almost completely healed. And anything I don’t feel like I can do, I’ll definitely ask for help. I swear.”
The amusement playing on the woman’s lips only proved she didn’t believe a word he said. She had his number. Her son Wes was just like Toby, only Wes was the badass who lured the bull away from riders after they got thrown in the arena. “You’re sure you want to work at the ranch?”
“I’m sure.” He needed the physical activity, the distance from his own family. “It’ll be on a temporary basis, of course. Come August, I’m out of here.” And he wouldn’t be looking back. “But at least that’ll give you time to find a good quality employee for the long term.”
Mara nodded and seemed to mull it over. She took her time, that was for sure. For a minute, Toby thought she might say no.
“All right then.” She gave a helpless shrug. “At least hiring you will save me the background check. When do you want to start?”
“Today.” Toby stood before she could change her mind. “I’ll head over after I have coffee with Ethan.” And he’d be bringing all his stuff with him. His mother wouldn’t like it one bit, but he’d promise to visit.
“Great.” Mara pulled out her phone and started typing. “I’ll text Louise right now. She can have the housekeeping staff get your cabin ready.”
“You won’t regret this.” Toby flashed her the grin that never failed him.
“I know I won’t.” Mara picked up her coffee mug again. “If there’s one thing I know about you, Toby Garrett, it’s that you’re a real hard worker.”
“Just wait.” He’d been sitting around so long he probably had enough pent-up energy to finish a week’s worth of work that very afternoon.
After bidding Mara a thankful goodbye, he headed to the coffee counter where his friend Ethan was working alongside Beth. Those two had been together forever. Even in high school, they were just one of those couples that worked. Though they owned the café, not a day went by that they weren’t behind the counter in some capacity—today it appeared they were short a barista.
“Morning,” Ethan called over the hiss of the espresso machine.
“Morning.” Toby slid onto a stool where he could talk to them both. “Beth, you’re looking lovely today.”
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t look up from the artwork she was fashioning into the foam on a latte. “Don’t worry. I’ll have your Americano up momentarily.”
“Thank you,” he said with a grin. He hated Ethan’s Americanos.
“So, what were you and Mara Harding talking about?” Beth slid the latte she’d been working on down the counter to a waiting customer.
“She gave me a job.” Thank God. “And a cabin to go with it.”
“A job?” Beth stopped working. “And what’d you mean a cabin? You’re going to stay at the Silverado Lake Ranch?”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Ethan stepped out from behind the espresso machine. “I can only spend so much time taking you fishing.”
Exactly. Beth should be glad Toby would be occupied so he didn’t take up so much of Ethan’s time. “Why shouldn’t I work at the ranch?”
Beth’s hands went straight to her hips.
Uh-oh.
“Um…what about everything that happened between you and Jane senior year?” She leaned over the counter. “Don’t you think living at the ranch will be awkward?”
Hell no, he hadn’t forgotten about kissing Jane. He hadn’t forgotten about her walking away from him afterward either. But what did that have to do with anything? “Jane doesn’t live at the ranch anymore.” As far as he’d heard, she only made it home once or twice a year.
Beth looked at him like she wanted to smack him
upside the head. “Well she’s coming into town later this week, seeing as how she is the maid of honor in our wedding and everything.”
Wait a minute. “Jane Harding is the maid of honor?” That spark inside of him ignited again. All through high school he and Jane had competed for every academic title. He’d been hell-bent on baiting her into arguments and competitions, but it wasn’t until he’d kissed her that night that he realized why. The second his lips had touched hers, the chemistry humming between them had exploded and he realized he’d always been attracted to her.
Beth’s expression turned even darker. “Have you read any of the emails I’ve sent regarding details for the most important day of my life?”
“I’m not a big email guy.” Especially when all his colleagues were using email to keep him up to date on everything he was missing out on the circuit. He’d likely be avoiding email until August.
“Yes, Jane is the maid of honor,” Beth grumbled. “And you’re the best man, in case you didn’t know that either.” The woman pointed her stirring spoon at him. “And I swear to God, Toby, you’d better behave yourself.”
“I always behave myself.” He reassured Beth with a wink. It had been years since he’d seen Jane Harding, but suddenly this wedding sounded a lot more interesting.
Chapter Three
Jane coasted into the city limits of Silverado Lake, Colorado, on fumes, her economy rental car protesting with a shudder as she veered into the lone filling station’s empty lot. She eyed the old-school gas pump from her driver-side window. You still couldn’t pay outside like you could at every other gas station in America. Obviously, nothing had changed around here.
With a huff, Jane dragged herself out of the driver’s seat and popped open the gas cap on her rental. While the unleaded flowed into the tank, the vintage pump click, click, clicked with the uptick of each cent. While she waited, Jane glanced out at the mountains. Drifts of snow still crusted the granite crags at the tops of the peaks, tapering off to meet the stunted pines at the tree line. It was a beautiful view but coming home reminded her how much she missed her father. Yes, the mountains made a stunning backdrop, but they were treacherous too.
First Kiss with a Cowboy: Includes a bonus novella Page 2