“You didn’t like her? Ever?”
With a snort, Hannah swiped off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I disliked her from the moment she flashed that pearly white smile my direction. That girl knew she was beautiful and used it to get her way with everyone. My son had certainly been conned by her pretty face and sweet southern charm, but a mama knows when a woman isn’t being honest. I don’t think Bren knew what was true and what was a lie. That was her personality.”
Grace felt her chest twist as the woman continued.
“Ruger’s dad was a voice of reason you could say. He warned me that if we intervened and caused trouble with the relationship Ruger would be hurt and possibly not speak to us. Ruger loved her. Or maybe he was in lust. Who knows? Sometimes a man can be blindsided by a woman’s ways and we could only pray that she had his best interests at heart.”
“Do you think he still loves her?”
Hannah cackled. “In love with her? That’s hogwash. He’s stubborn. Stubborn men need time before they allow others in.”
Grace swallowed her own pain. She’d closed herself off because any more pain and she would have been lost. “He’s putting himself into this project. He really wants it to work. I want it to work for him.”
Hannah picked up the damp cloth and started wiping the counter. “At some point, there needs to be a dream outside of flipping houses.” She met Grace’s gaze. “I see the same pain in your eyes as I see in my son’s eyes. I know it’s none of my business, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
From the start Grace had felt a connection with the woman. They’d become fast friends over a short period of time and Grace felt a large amount of guilt. She wasn’t hurting anyone, but any lie hurts in the end. “I went through a tough divorce myself.”
“I’m sorry. Has it been awfully long ago?”
“Five years.”
“Well, honey. I don’t know your story but I’m a true believer when God closes a window, he opens a door.”
“Thank you. Do you mind if I run upstairs and freshen up before dinner?” Grace needed a moment. Although with Hannah’s help in cooking dinner things went a lot faster but she needed to splash her face with cold water and change. She was wearing half the food on her clothes.
“Run along, sweetie. It looks like you have everything handled here so I’m going to run along myself and check on the store.” She removed her apron, shook it out and laid it over the counter. “If I don’t see you soon, I’ll most definitely see you at the festival.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“No worries. It’s nice to be needed.”
Grace made her way up the back stairs and into her bedroom where she changed into a sundress that flowed over her curves nicely. Washing her face, brushing out her hair and applying lip tint, she decided she didn’t need to bother with makeup. Gardening had bronzed her skin and she even noticed that her muscles were tighter.
The house had come a long way, faster than she anticipated. She felt a bittersweet emotion. She’d have to leave once everything was done.
Hearing voices downstairs, she made her way down and into the kitchen where a group of hungry cowboys had gathered. She spotted Ruger, who stood a few inches taller than the other men, and she gave him a wave and smile.
“Something smells mighty good in here, ma’am,” Deuce said, rubbing his flat stomach in a dramatic way.
“Thank you. Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. I just need to grab the roast out of the oven. Why don’t you all take a seat. Tonight we’re eating at the table.” Usually they took their plates outside to sit on the porch.
“Did you say roast?” Mick, a balding forty-something man clutched his beer in a beefy fist. “I’m a meat and potatoes kind of man.”
The shyest of them was Harvard. He had deep dimples, even when he frowned. His eyes were bright blue, but not as clear as Ruger’s. No one she’d met had eyes like him. Harvard had a two-inch scar across his cheek and she noticed that he tried to hide it at times.
She grabbed the oven mitts off the hook and opened the oven door, only to feel a familiar warmth to her right. She lifted her chin to find Ruger beside her, wearing a grin that didn’t appear too often. Up until this point she’d been certain that he’d been dodging her since their dinner together. He normally came in with his crew in the evening, they grabbed their plates and ate outside. Probably because it was warm inside the house. The rain had cooled it off tonight. She usually joined them. No one had complained and they always included her in conversation. Tonight’s fancier meal required sitting at the table. She even brought out the china plates she’d bought at the antique shop where she’d found furniture for the house.
“Here, let me help you with the pan,” Ruger offered with a charming smile.
“Okay.” She handed over the mitts and stepped aside to let him grab the heavy cast iron pot which she’d also found at the shop.
“Smells delicious.”
“Your mom helped so the meal is safe.”
“I’m sure we’ll all like it.” He looked at her, holding her gaze for a good three seconds.
She wrung her hands together. What had come over him?
“So, how’s the work coming on the ranch?” She couldn’t hide the shakiness of her voice.
“Coming along fine,” he answered, placing the pan on top of the stove and closing the oven. He turned to face her again, his eyes twinkling. “How’s decorating coming? Looks like you’re almost done.”
She couldn’t get her voice to work, but finally blurted, “It’s been fun. I mean, going great. I’m in my element here now.”
“Good. Very good,” he said quietly.
“How did Ruger get so lucky to have you here, Grace?” Harvard came up, patted Ruger on the shoulder as he sniffed soundly. “This reminds me of my mama’s house on Sunday afternoons.”
“I cheated a bit. Hannah helped.” Feeling Ruger’s gaze on her profile, she stepped around him to spoon the mashed potatoes into a bowl.
“You got dishes tonight, my man?” Deuce jokingly asked Ruger.
“If I remember correctly, Grace said she was going to set you and the rest up for dish duty.” Ruger pulled out a chair at the head of the table, motioning for Deuce to grab a seat.
“Damn, and ruin my manicure?” Mick said in a sing-song tune.
“Don’t worry. Knowing how hard you work on the land I’ll do dishes tonight, but come tomorrow you better come prepared to get your hands in some dish water since we’re not using paper plates anymore,” Grace teased as she set the bowl of potatoes in the center of the table. It was immediately grabbed up by Deuce, but when Ruger cleared his throat, the other man gave Grace an apologetic look.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Go ahead, men. Dig in. All of you.” She didn’t have to ask twice. The clicking and clanging of silverware and dishes made her smile proudly as she took the available seat next to Ruger wondering if the men had left it empty on purpose.
“Would you like a beer? Or maybe a bit more of that whiskey?” Ruger’s smile brought a new warmth to her inner thighs.
“I’m drinking sweet tea tonight.” She spooned out a small amount of roast on her plate. Honestly, she was a bit fearful she could lose a finger if she got deeper into the fray of the men filling their plates. Ruger must have sensed her trepidation because he took the spoon from Mick and dug out a helping of carrots and onions and set the vegetables onto her plate.
“Thank you,” she offered him a smile and stabbed a carrot.
“Sorry. We’re informal at the table,” he said in a low, rich voice. The other men were busy talking about Harvard entering the car races at the festival.
“Fine as long as you don’t mind getting an award…for being last,” Mick said in a booming voice.
“Now you know why we don’t usually sit around the table.” Ruger shrugged.
“I like it,” she said. “I enjoy the hustle and bustle. What will I do when I
go home?”
His expression changed, but he hid it behind a forkful of potatoes.
“Stop eating!” Deuce commanded, making Grace jump. “Were you all born in a barn? Bow your heads and thank the Lord for this amazing meal.” They all did as he requested and he said, “God, thank you for the grub but especially thank you for Miss Grace. She’s a trooper for tolerating a man like Ruger. Amen.”
Laughter filled the kitchen as they lifted their heads and dug in.
Ruger shifted and in the process his knee brushed hers. She warmed and tingled inside. He shouldn’t have that affect over her. No man should, but he did. She’d only loved one man and even he hadn’t made her feel like this.
“Pass the green beans, please,” Ruger asked Harvard.
When the man didn’t hear the request, Grace picked up the bowl and handed it to him. Their fingers grazed and an electrical current scooted up her arm. She sucked in a breath and she caught his gaze, but he didn’t appear flustered by the touch at all.
“Hannah said pot roast is your favorite.” She pulled off a bit of roll.
“One of my favorites. I also love pizza. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I do. With lots of veggies. Even anchovies on occasion.”
He blinked. “Mushrooms and banana peppers for me. But pizza doesn’t come close to this meal.” He forked some of the tender roast and popped it into his mouth.
His thigh touched hers and she wondered if it was done on purpose or by accident. Either way, it sent an awareness through her.
The ends of his thick hair touched the collar and she had a sensual image of what it’d be like to run her fingers through the satin mass. This wasn’t the path her mind should be taking, but he was a virile man and his scent of masculinity, leather, and the fresh outdoors did wonderful things to her.
“A tattoo of a clown? What the hell were you thinking?” Deuce raised his voice.
“At least I’m not stupid like Ruger. Who the hell gets a woman’s name tattooed on their body,” Mick muttered through laughter.
Ruger narrowed his gaze and paused with his fork midair. “Don’t bring me into your argument,” he growled.
“You have a woman’s name tattooed on your body?” Grace couldn’t let that one drop. She couldn’t understand why she felt a sensation of jealousy over the revelation.
“Not anymore,” he muttered, shooting his buddy a death glare.
“But you did?” she persisted.
“Until he had it covered. But when a man is thinking with his balls—”
Harvard elbowed Mick hard in the ribs. “Watch your mouth. We have a lady amongst us.”
Scooping up a forkful of mashed potatoes she hoped the men would keep talking. A woman could find out a lot about a man by sitting around a dinner table.
“I was young and stupid,” Ruger said, staring at his plate. “I wish I’d never told you.”
“No one can be that stupid.” The men erupted into laughter.
Ruger lifted his gaze to Grace then shook his head. “Can we not talk about this subject? Grace doesn’t want to hear about the good, the bad, and the ugly of our pasts.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said, smiling when he frowned.
The hands had moved onto another subject, but Ruger seemed irritated. “I think they try to embarrass me.”
“It’s okay. It’s all in good humor.”
“How about you tell me what this tattoo means.” He tapped his finger gently against her wrist.
She squirmed and realized she had no reason to hide from the truth. She wasn’t ashamed and wouldn’t deny her daughter. Starting to answer, Mick interrupted with…
“Hey, Ruger! What have you heard about the boy?”
Ruger sighed and turned toward his buddy. “He’s better. Still in the hospital but Conley said he should be released real soon.”
“Sorry, but what boy?” Grace asked.
When Ruger didn’t quickly answer, Deuce said, “Boss is a hero. He saved a kid who was missing.”
“Ruger, that’s wonderful. Why didn’t you mention this to me?”
He shoveled up his potatoes and Grace could see he didn’t like the spotlight being on him.
“I heard the boyfriend is under investigation.” Mick spooned out more gravy onto his potatoes. “You think the bastard had something to do with the boy walking away from camp?” His question was directed toward Ruger who continued to eat quietly.
“You all know Hill hasn’t been out of prison for long,” Deuce piped in.
While the hands once again changed direction of their conversation, Grace looked at Ruger’s profile. “You don’t like to be rewarded for your good deeds, do you?” she said quietly.
With a shrug, he pushed his empty plate away. “I’m far from a hero,” he said roughly.
When plates were emptied, the hands muttered something about getting home to their wives and dispersed rather quickly before dessert.
“We can’t let this go to waste.” She uncovered the apple pie. “Your mom told me apple is your favorite, so I thought I’d make one.” She was proud of how good it looked.
His eyes widened slightly. “You made that?”
“Your mom showed me how, but I think I could do it alone the next time.”
“It looks delicious. I need to put a slice of that in my belly.” He winked.
“If you’d like, I can dish us up a slice and I’ll meet you out on the porch. It’s such a beautiful evening.”
“Sounds good to me. Can I help with anything?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Hey, I’m offering. I can do some things.”
“Then how about grabbing the container of ice cream I laid out on the counter and scoop some into the bowls? What’s apple pie without ice cream?”
“Blasphemy,” he said.
“Totally agree.” She sliced the pie into equal pieces and laid a portion next to the ice cream. “Your mom said you like extra cinnamon and sugar, so I added more before I put it into the oven. Care for a cup of coffee too?” She’d already brewed a fresh pot.
“You went to a lot of trouble today, so why don’t you take the pie out to the porch and I’ll grab our coffee.”
“Are you sure? The ice cream might melt.”
“More than sure and I like my ice cream soft. How do you take your coffee?” He was already taking down cups.
“Cream and sugar please.”
She stepped outside with the bowls and placed them on the small glass table. The Montana breeze swept over her as she stared into the distance, seeing a group of deer grazing in the yard. The horses had their thick tails lifted and their ears perked as they watched Grace. Roscoe and Fritz joined her on the porch and plopped down in the shade. She enjoyed the evenings here at the ranch, especially after the workday was done. An indescribable peace fell over the land. The sky was cloudy but she could still see the mountains in the distance. She took a seat in one of the white rockers grateful that Ruger had mended the porch. Since the hands had started things had taken another transformation. Although Ruger seemed frustrated with the men at times, she knew they had a solid friendship. She’d sometimes watch them work and they were like a well-oiled machine. They also respected Ruger, just as she did. He was a good boss—a great leader.
Ruger stepped out and handed her one of the steaming cups of coffee and she sipped. “Delicious.”
“Thanks.” He took the rocker next to her and dug into his pie and ice cream. “I wanted to tell you that I spoke to the heating and cooling man earlier. He’s coming out tomorrow to install the units. I think it’s high time we got air conditioning in this place. I’m sorry it’s been so hot.”
She appreciated his concern. “It hasn’t been too bad. The trees do lend some shade, and I’ve found that if I stagger my work time between inside and out the heat doesn’t bother me as much.”
“I like what you’re doing to the house so far. These rockers make a nice edition. The house looks great. The landscap
e. All of it.”
“I’m having someone come out and paint the outside of the house. It’ll make such a difference.”
He lifted a brow. “Really? Doesn’t that take you outside of the budget we agreed upon?”
“Daisy gave me the name and number of someone who she says is great and reasonable in price. You’ll see. You’ll love the result. It’d be a shame to do all the work inside and not touch the outside.” She clasped her hands in her lap.
He blew out a breath and set his empty plate aside. “This dress, it looks lovely on you.” He reached over and lifted the material in his hand as if testing the softness.
“Thank you.” Her body tingled. “There’s something about this place. I feel so…well, at peace. You can’t imagine how much I needed this.”
“It looks good on you too.” He realized his words could be taken as flirtation, but maybe he was flirting. She was a beautiful, intelligent, interesting woman who he enjoyed being near.
“So what do you foresee in the next few years for this place?” He’d removed his hand from the skirt of the dress and she lifted her knees to her chest, wiggling her bare toes.
“That we’ll have the house at full capacity. We’ll have enough horses for everyone to ride. I’d like to see a hands-on resort. Visitors helping take care of the animals, the garden, learning the ropes of ranching, and every evening having dinner served outside with music playing and games to help people socialize.”
“That sounds amazing. Where will you live? In the guest house still?”
He gave a shrug. “Possibly. I don’t need much.”
“What if you find someone, fall in love, get married, have a family?”
Did his jaw tighten? “It did cross my mind.” He kept his gaze steady ahead on the deer. “There’s plenty of room to build a house along the edge of the property.”
She wasn’t sure why she felt a bit of relief knowing he’d contemplated the idea of a family. Maybe because she’d had a few dreams of her living here…things progressing between them. Sure, it seemed out of place, but a woman had every right to wonder what life could be like.
Cowboy Wilde (Cooper's Hawke Landing Book 2) Page 13