Holden brought up the rear.
Myrna stopped in what looked to be the heart of a ghost town, holding out her arms like a master of ceremonies. “This is Standing Bear, a town founded by the Standing Bear Mining Corporation to house and care for their workers. The buildings you see here were built from 1850 to 1895.”
“When did the mine close?” Holden asked, glancing around with the same curiosity he’d shown when he’d taken Bernadette to an art museum.
“In 1955,” Myrna said, looking pleased to have an interested audience. “It was never a large producer. The mine has always held more dreams than silver.”
“What industry supported the town after the main mining rush?” Holden continued to look enthralled with the ramshackle buildings.
“Has your dad always been interested in history?” Bernadette whispered to Devin while Myrna answered.
“Sadly, yes.” Devin hooked his thumbs behind his backpack straps. “I can’t tell you how many museums and parks he’s dragged me to, all in the name of making memories, only to have the visit drag on because of his curiosity.”
“You’ll cherish trips like this someday,” Bernadette told Devin, still in that whisper. “I know when I remember my dad, I do.”
Devin gave her a sharp look. “I thought you said Dad was fine.”
“He is.” Bernadette used the gentle but firm tone of voice and expression she reserved for hard conversations with patients. “But if he doesn’t make some serious changes, he might not always be.” Prolonged periods of anxiety were detrimental to overall health.
Devin’s mouth formed a small O.
“Unfortunately...” Myrna slowed her spiel, pointing toward a mine entrance visible in the side of the mountain at the opposite part of town “...no large deposits were found after the first big vein.”
“What a waste of resources,” Holden said with an unusual dose of pessimism. “Men and women could have made an easier life in a bigger city.”
“It takes a certain kind of individual to establish a life in the frontier.” Myrna frowned. “Mining towns like Standing Bear made the desolate miles between major cities shorter, and therefore, safer to traverse.” For all Myrna’s subtle signs of illness, she was passionate about her topic and led Bernadette, the two Monroes and the young family with brisk steps toward the mine itself. “Company mining towns offered supplies and provided what were once considered luxury services, like dentistry and doctoring.” She stopped and waved a hand toward a pair of small shacks that seemed no bigger than an average bedroom. “Some of the original equipment for such services are still inside.”
“Let me see, Mama. Let me see.” The little girl reached her arms toward the buildings, revealing a small birthmark on the back of her hand.
The young family went up the steps of the dentistry office first and peered in the windows. Devin looked more interested in the doctor’s office. Bernadette and Holden followed their tour guide, as if they were the happily married couple Myrna intuited them to be.
“Those pliers on the wall are what they used to pull teeth.” Myrna bobbed her head toward Bernadette. “It’s hard to imagine them fitting in anyone’s mouth. They’re so large. I bet lots of miners ran off screaming at the sight of them.”
“Medical instruments also strike fear into the hearts of my patients.” No woman liked to see birthing forceps or vaginal speculums. Bernadette squinted through the medical office’s windows. There was a small desk, a table and shelves lined with old bottles. “Not exactly a surgery center.” Or even an urgent-care clinic.
Devin scoffed. “One of those bottles is labeled Dr. Smith’s Cure-All.”
“You could read that?” Holden leaned over Bernadette’s shoulder to peer in. “Where?”
While Devin pointed out the bottle, Bernadette suppressed the urge to settle back against Holden’s firm chest. If she did, he wouldn’t wrap his strong arms around her. He wouldn’t point out something in the office with a soft whisper in her ear.
Not that I want him to.
She inched clear of him and went down the steps.
Closing her eyes, Myrna turned her face toward the sun. “I suppose I need to count my blessings.”
Bernadette rubbed Myrna’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“But you did.” The older woman sighed. “I’m sure after I see my doctor in a few days that I’ll be grateful you said something. It’s just...until then, I’ll be thinking the worst.”
“What-if scenarios are bad.” And could keep anyone up at night. “Try to frame my recommendation to see your doctor as if I was a mechanic notifying you that your oil-change light came on.”
Myrna turned her faded blue gaze toward Bernadette. There was an elegant dignity to the tilt of her chin, a strength that was humbling, as if her life hadn’t always been easy but she refused to give in to adversity. “I need an oil change?”
Bernadette nodded, feeling Holden’s eyes upon her and a question unspoken: Do I need an oil change? In Holden’s case, the answer was more complicated.
Anxiety often struck go-getters who’d taken on too much for too long on too many levels—personally and professionally. And the path toward a more balanced life meant changes...sometimes with the aid of medication, sometimes with therapy, sometimes with a paring down of life responsibilities, often a combination of all three.
She’d presented all options to Holden in the hospital. He’d refused to discuss next steps with her. Did that mean he was going to ignore her advice? Or that he needed more time to process it all?
Holden smiled softly, as if sensing Bernadette’s thoughts were too serious for a historical tour in the mountains. “I think I need Dr. Smith’s Cure-All.”
“I bet it claims to treat all sorts of things.” Devin grinned. “Warts, indigestion, baldness.”
Holden’s hand drifted to his crown. “I’m not going bald.”
That made everyone laugh.
Unimpressed by the dentist’s office, the two toddlers wove around and between their parents’ legs, smiling at each other as if sharing some joke.
Bernadette’s hand went to her abdomen, and her heart ached. Her child wouldn’t have a sibling to play with on rainy days or long car trips, no younger brother or sister to share their innermost secrets with. Bernadette’s gaze drifted toward Devin and Holden. Unlike the young family, the pair of Monroes stood apart. There was no ease of proximity, no inside jokes or ruffling of hair, all things she remembered from her childhood as the oldest of four children.
But Holden was as attentive of his son as these young parents. During the short walk from the motor home to the tour office, he’d checked on Devin with half glances over his shoulder. And once they’d arrived, he’d kept an eye on his son through the store windows, an unguarded longing in his eyes.
He used to keep an eye on me.
“The mine awaits.” Myrna gestured for the group to follow her.
“Is there gold?” The little girl hopped on one foot.
“There used to be silver, sunshine.” Myrna’s tone was as sentimental as her gaze, drifting over the old buildings as if she saw them in a different time. “There used to be a lot of things around here.”
“Did you grow up in Standing Bear, Myrna?” Bernadette asked, wondering about the source of Myrna’s sadness.
“I did.” And that was the end of that. Myrna marched on toward a tunnel in the mountain.
Farther downhill, a young woman with a shaggy fringe of purple hair was saddling a horse by a small barn.
Devin lingered at the dentist’s office while Holden fell into step with Bernadette.
“You’re going to raise the baby in Second Chance?” Holden’s tone was so direct it sounded as if he was verifying prescription instructions.
“Yes. Assuming my practice in Ketchum sells. I need to help Cal through med school
and—”
“Cal is your youngest brother?” Holden cut her off.
“Yes. I promised him I’d shoulder some of the financial burden of medical school the way my father did for me before he died.”
“I remember you mentioning Calvin.” Holden’s gaze turned distant. “You said that as the youngest he took your father’s passing harder than the rest of you.”
“Yes.” Funny how Holden remembered details she’d dropped about her life, but she knew so little about his. Not for lack of listening. It struck her then that Holden was direct in what he wanted to share and what he wanted to know. But there was a difference between directness and honesty. He hadn’t told her about Devin. He hadn’t responded when she’d blown up his phone over the last few weeks, asking to speak. Unbidden, anger raised its head. The fact that she was facing this pregnancy alone had her backed into a corner. “I’ll tell you the truth, Holden. It broke my heart to put my practice up for sale. I could have helped Cal through med school as an OB/GYN. But I can’t raise a child alone and dart out at all hours of the night to deliver babies.”
Holden didn’t say a word.
She glanced up at him, waiting for his reply.
Holden was a handsome, intelligent, confident man. But he’d never truly let her get past that outward exterior. She knew that now. She’d fallen for a witty, successful Wall Street financier. Whatever mounting pressure had culminated in an anxiety attack a few days ago, it wasn’t only manifesting itself in his other symptoms—the tight chest and shortness of breath. Since they’d begun dating in February, the gray at his temples seemed more prominent.
Not that his touch of gray detracted from his physical appeal in any way.
But his continued silence did.
Logically...medically...she knew a patient with Holden’s symptoms would be suffering from fragmented, racing thoughts that made his replies slower. Her presence was probably adding to his stress, not alleviating it.
Her soggy sneakers found root in the compact dirt, and her voice found strength. “When the tour and ride are over, I’ll call Shane. He’ll find someone to give me a lift back to Second Chance.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Holden said, compassion in those gray eyes. “I rarely see my son, and I’d like this time with him to be special. Especially if—”
“Your episode was only a warning, Holden.” Not a death knell. She reached out and touched his well-muscled bicep. “A few changes and you’ll live a long and happy life.”
Without me or the baby.
Her heart ached with sadness, but increasingly, she felt Holden wouldn’t be a fixture in her future.
His chin thrust out. “I heard what you said to Myrna, about her oil light coming on. My situation is much more serious.”
“Perhaps,” Bernadette allowed, studying those strong cheekbones and worry-tinged eyes, trying to box up her attraction to him and store it in a seldom-to-be-visited corner of her brain. Trying, but failing. She sighed. “Perhaps if we build on that oil-change metaphor, it was your check-engine light that came on.”
“That’s serious.” So was his attitude. Grimly serious.
“Don’t be so pessimistic.” Bernadette wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything was going to be all right, but she knew he’d reject her overture. “It’s not fatal if treated by a good mechanic.” He was in a glass-half-empty frame of mind. He’d never let her be the mechanic to fine-tune his engine.
But she suddenly regretted her decision to leave the Monroe road trip.
Because she wanted to try.
Meanwhile, back in Second Chance...
“I’M TANNER MONROE PAXTON.” The cowboy lifted his little boy onto a stool near Shane and then shifted the little dark-haired girl from one hip to the other. “And I own a share of this town.”
Cold settled over Shane, drowning out the warmth and happiness he’d felt before. His three little cowpokes craned their necks for a better look at the stranger.
Simultaneously, a quiet blanketed the Bent Nickel Diner. The kind of quiet that said everyone was straining their ears to hear how Shane would react to the stranger and his claim.
“Part owner? No kidding?” Cam stole Shane’s thunder and the spotlight. “Grandpa Harlan had a fifth wife we didn’t know about?”
“Nope.” Tanner hitched the little girl higher on his hip. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and her head on his shoulder. “My grandfather was Hobart Monroe, Harlan’s twin brother.”
“Ruth,” Shane murmured, finding his voice. “Hobart was married to Ruth when he died.”
“My grandmother.” Tanner nodded. “She moved to Texas, pregnant, and married my grandpa to make a family for my daddy. Someone from Second Chance called Grandma Ruth last week with an interesting story about lost stagecoach gold found by the Monroes. That’s when Ruth told me about Hobart and gave me this.” He produced a small gold coin from his pocket and laid it on the diner counter.
The cold in Shane’s veins prickled his skin. He had an entire antique lockbox filled with similar coins.
Tanner gently removed the little girl’s thumb from her mouth. “Hobart was with your granddaddy when they found the gold the first time. The way I figure it, I’m owed a share of this town. And I’m not leaving until we make it legal.”
“If you want to discuss this further, we’ll require proof that you are who you say you are,” Shane said evenly, although the family resemblance was uncanny.
Tanner nodded. But he didn’t reach into his pocket for anything else.
Shane exchanged a glance with his brother Cam and had one unexpected thought: If this guy is legit, we’ll need legal protection.
A good lawyer and a good negotiator.
There was a good lawyer in town—Mitch Kincaid, who’d stepped back from the legal world to run the Lodgepole Inn.
As for a negotiator, Shane didn’t kid himself. When it came to dealmaking and money, there was only one man for the job—Holden.
CHAPTER FOUR
“HOW DID YOU like the tour, Dev?” Holden had considered it worth the stop, despite the motor home getting stuck in the ditch.
Standing Bear was rich with history, if not silver. And the Old West town made Holden nostalgic for his cowboy boots, which sat in a cupboard in the RV. And Myrna was a character he wouldn’t soon forget. Next on their agenda was a horseback ride. Hopefully, the tow truck would arrive soon thereafter.
“The tour was okay.” Dev shrugged with teenage detachment, staring toward the motorcycle near the barn. “You know, Dad, history doesn’t do it for me.”
Holden gasped. “You’re kidding. But...I always take you places with history.” The beaches of Normandy. The castle tour on the River Rhine. The art-history tour at the Louvre.
“I like doing stuff with you, Dad.” Devin shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “But I’m not big on listening to history. I’d rather read a book.”
“Noted.” Also noted? Holden’s failure as a father. How could he not know that Devin wasn’t interested in history?
“Not that I don’t appreciate these trips,” Dev added quickly. “But I’d rather just chill with you.”
“I’d like that, too.” Could he cancel all his plans for Yellowstone? Did he have to? He did. “I’m glad you were honest with me.”
“When we were in the mine tunnel, it was kind of claustrophobic.”
“Did anyone else worry there might be a cave-in during the tour?” Bernadette asked brightly as if she hadn’t heard every heart-wrenching word, stopping between Devin and Holden to watch the last of the horses being saddled.
“Now who’s pessimistic?” Holden shouldn’t be teasing her. If he was going to figure out what to do about the baby, he needed more distance between them, not less.
“Hoping for a positive outcome isn’t pessimistic,” Bernadette said firmly, staring up
at Holden with those big blue eyes as she took a step backward. And because she wasn’t looking where she was going, she stumbled and might have fallen if both Monroe men hadn’t grabbed hold of her arms.
And that was Bernadette in a nutshell. Intellectually, she was as smart as Holden, smarter even, but she couldn’t seem to keep her feet solidly on the ground. She’d run into him twice in the mine because she’d had her eyes glued to the ceiling looking for traces of silver. She’d be a hazard walking through the streets of New York City.
But she has a big heart.
In February, it was her kindness that had overcome his instinct that dating her was a bad idea. She cared about people, even strangers, and showed it. While he... As the oldest Monroe of his generation, the duty of responsibility for others had been taught to Holden to the point where he now only took care of his own.
“Thanks for the save.” Bernadette gently removed Holden’s hand from her arm. Devin had already let her go.
“Right.” Once he’d touched her, Holden hadn’t wanted to let go.
He’d dated many women, too many to count. But not one had reached inside him on a fundamental level and taken hold the way Bernadette had done. From the beginning, they’d been matched. If only she hadn’t come into his life at the wrong time and in the wrong place. “Should you be on horseback?” Holden pointed to the young family, who were walking with Myrna back toward the tour office. They were skipping the ride.
“Oh, geez. Don’t tell me you think pregnant women belong in a bubble.” Bernadette adjusted her glasses the way she did before getting feisty. “Have you ever been on a trail ride? Most are gentle walks. If anything, I might get nauseous from the side-to-side motion.”
Caught by the Cowboy Dad Page 4
