“That’s so sad. She was too young. I’m only two years younger than she was when she died,” Sloane said.
Connie nodded and wiped at a tear on her cheek. She then left the kitchen to enter the diner. A few minutes later, she came back in with a tall brunette.
“Sloane, this is Andrea. Celeste is her mother, and she brought you the key to the bakery.”
Sloane got down from the stool and walked to the woman.
“It’s nice to meet you. I hope you didn’t go out of your way to bring me the key.”
“Oh, no. I was just heading out the door to come into town anyway. Mom caught me just in time. Here’s the key. You can return it if you decide not to buy it or keep it if you’re going to. I think everything is in there you’d need.”
“You don’t want to go with me?”
Andrea waved her hand. “No, if you’re related to the Gates girls, you’re okay by me. Just cross the street, and the bakery is about a block up on the left. You’ll see the pink and white awning.”
“I appreciate this and your trust.” She took the key and it felt wonderful in her hand. She was so anxious to get over there and look at it. She looked at Connie. “Do you mind if I go now, or do you need me to help out still?”
Connie peered out the window between the kitchen and diner then shook her head.
“It’s cleared out a good bit. Go and look at it. I hope you like it.”
“All right. Thank you. I’ll let you all know later.” She pulled on her coat, gloves, and beanie then walked out of the kitchen into the diner and headed for the door.
Apparently, Holt had left because she didn’t see him anywhere. Too bad. She wouldn’t mind getting to know him. She opened the door of the diner, making the bell jingle then stepped outside and gasped at the snow falling. Smiling, she looked up the street to where the little bakery sat and headed that way. When she had a break in traffic, she strode across the street and up to the store. As she inserted the key, she turned when she heard someone say her name, and saw Holt heading for her. She stopped and smiled.
“Hey, Sloane Gates,” he said. “Whatcha doing?”
“Hi. Well, Holt James, if you must know…I’m going to check out this bakery. I might buy it.” She turned the key and pushed the door open. A musty smell hit her nose, making her wrinkle it but she didn’t care. Since no heat was running in the shop, she could see a puff of air in front of her as she blew out a breath. Spiderwebs had taken up residence in the corners of the windows. She glanced over her shoulder to see Holt standing in the doorway. “Come on in.”
He nodded and stepped across the threshold, glanced around then looked at her as he closed the door.
“So, the bakery, huh? Can you bake?”
She laughed. “Yes, I can bake. I used to own a bakery in Albuquerque. I lost it in the divorce.”
“That’s a shame. This used to be a great place. I miss the fresh croissants.”
“Well, I can make those.”
“It would be great for this to open again. Do you have everything here you’d need?”
“I need to check out the kitchen, but the display cases here are in great shape. I’d add a few little tables in case people wanted to sit and eat.”
Holt nodded as he glanced around. “That’s a good idea.”
She headed for the kitchen area and smiled when she saw the four ovens. Two stone deck ovens, which were used to make loaves of bread, and two convection ovens for pastries and cookies. She turned to look around the room and saw all the mixers she could ask for. A large dough mixer, an emulsion blender with whisk attachments, and a countertop mixer. Three large metal tables sat in the center of the room. There was even a dough proofer, used for making the dough-rising process simpler by optimizing heat and humidity. The steel tables in the center of the kitchen were in great shape too. When she turned back to the doorway, she bumped into Holt who wrapped his arms around her when she stumbled back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were behind me,” she said as she gazed up at him.
She watched as his eyes roamed over her face and stopped on her lips. No man had ever looked at her like that. And the effect was all heat. When he started to lower his head, she lifted her chin and closed her eyes. The instant his lips touched hers, she felt a shock go through her, and he seemed to feel it too because when he raised his lips, he hovered them above hers, and their eyes met. She felt his lips lift in a grin right before he took hers again in a deep, hard kiss. She slipped her arms under his open coat then wrapped them around his waist and pulled him tight against her. His hands slid down her coat to the bottom then slipped under it to her ass, where he grabbed it in his hands and squeezed. She moaned into his mouth and entwined her tongue with his. He walked her backward until she came up against one of the tables then he leaned against her.
“Sloane?”
She pushed at Holt’s shoulders when she heard Lanie’s voice, and he stepped away from her but kept his back to the doorway.
“In the kitchen, Lanie,” she called out, sounding a little breathless but glanced at Holt, who suddenly seemed extremely interested in one of the convection ovens. She couldn’t stop the chuckle.
He turned to look at her, lifted an eyebrow then grinned.
“Hey—” Lanie came to a halt inside the door with an expression of surprise when she saw Holt.
“Hey, I was opening the door when Holt was passing by. He came inside with me.” Right, Sloane. Of course, he came inside, seeing as he was in the kitchen with her. Ugh!
“Um, okay. I was heading home and wanted to stop in to see what you think of the place.”
“I think it’s going to be perfect. Everything is here, Lanie. Everything I need,” she said as she glanced at Holt and saw him trying not to grin.
She then watched as Lanie moved around the kitchen.
“You even have all the bakeware.”
“All of it, including spatulas, mixing bowls, spoons, pastry knives, icing tips, and flour sifters. Not to mention the dough sheeter—”
“Excuse me, but I need to get going. I hope this works out for you, Sloane,” Holt said.
“Oh, okay. Thank you for coming in with me, Holt.”
“Yes, ma’am. Lanie,” he said with a nod and his fingers to his hat then he walked out.
Sloane heard the front door open then close and she blew out a breath. Lanie cleared her throat and Sloane looked at her.
“What?”
“What? Seriously, you’re going to ask me what? The sexual tension was so thick in here, you could cut it with one of those fancy knives,” Lanie said, pointing to the knives hanging on the wall.
“You’re imagining things.”
“I have a damn good imagination, but I didn’t imagine this.” Lanie folded her arms and stared at her.
“Whatever,” Sloane said with a shrug. “I’m going to buy this place, Lanie. It’s perfect.”
“Good change of subject there, but I’m happy for you.” Lanie hugged her.
“I’m happy for me too. Let’s get out of here, and I’ll call Celeste. I cannot wait to open.”
Chapter Two
As he drove home, Holt couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind. There was something about Sloane Gates that drew him, but he’d never expected kissing her would be so overwhelming. She had aroused him in a way no one had since Carolyn. Hell, that kiss aroused him so much that he had been tempted to take her on the table if Lanie hadn’t shown up. It had been a long time since he’d been that interested in a woman. Five years to be exact. His wife, Carolyn always knew she had him right where she wanted him, but it never bothered him. He loved her, and he would do anything to keep her happy. It was why he felt helpless that he couldn’t take her pain away, and it still kills him to this day to think of how she’d suffered.
Blowing out a breath at the memory, he had hated to see her in any pain. He’d done his best over the six years they’d been married never to hurt her or disappoint her. It wasn’t easy bec
ause he was a hard man to live with on a good day. He was hardheaded, stubborn, and set in his ways but when Carolyn looked at him a certain way, he’d give in every time. She knew how much he loved her, and he knew she loved him in return. How, or why she loved him, he had no idea, but she did. She had wanted children so bad, but it never happened for them, and then she was diagnosed with glioblastoma. After they found out, all he cared about was her getting better but it’s one of the deadliest cancers. The doctors explained that the survival rate was low, even if caught in time, but he told her, he promised her, they would beat it. He about died the day the doctors gave them the news and as much as he wanted to believe she would make it when others hadn’t, she didn’t.
The memory of her lying on the bed looking frail and nothing like herself made tears fill his eyes. She’d lost her hair due to the chemotherapy but refused to wear wigs. She had told him she didn’t give a rat’s ass what people thought when they saw her bald head, making him laugh. She had been so strong during it all, unlike him. He would fall apart at night when he’d be lying beside her. So many nights, she held him while he cried.
Holt wiped tears from his cheeks. God, he missed her.
Pulling into his driveway, he drove up to the house, parked, and stepped out. After shoving the door closed, he climbed the steps, wiped his boots on the mat, opened the door, and entered the warm kitchen. He removed his hat, hooked it on a peg then shrugged off his coat and hung it up. He headed for the living room to light a fire in the hearth. It was damn cold out and had gotten colder as the day wore on. He kneeled at the fireplace, reached up to open the flue, and struck a match to the kindling.
Getting to his feet, he stared into the flames and thought of Sloane. She was a beautiful woman. Where Carolyn had been tall and fair, Sloane was petite and brunette with beautiful emerald green eyes. Carolyn’s eyes had been brown, full of love and compassion, and were the first thing anyone noticed because they had been stunning with her fair skin. He wasn’t comparing the two. They were just opposite in looks. He had never really been attracted to petite women, but Sloane could certainly change his mind.
He sighed. He wished he’d gotten her phone number. Then again, since she was buying the bakery, he knew where to find her.
After a quick shower, he pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt then made himself something to eat before settling into the recliner to watch TV. No clients were coming this week, so he was happy for the break. There was still plenty to do around the ranch as the men had their regular chores plus three horses to break.
A smile lifted his lips as he thought of watching them work with the horses. They seemed to love doing it. It had been years since he’d climbed onto the back of an unbroken horse. He was sure he’d break every bone in his body if he did it now. That ground seemed to get harder the older you got. The four men who broke for him now were in their early twenties and looked forward to it, and still had that sense of immortality. Shaking his head, Holt wondered how anyone could look forward to being thrown from a horse.
Of course, one of the guys, Ben, used to be a bronc rider in the rodeo, so he was used to a bucking horse but the other guys, Christian, Levi, and Bryce, had just wanted to learn, and now all four were great at it. Anytime they’d hit the ground, Holt would wince because it seemed like he still felt it. It didn’t matter that it was covered in sawdust, it still hurt. He’d broken several bones doing it when he was younger so he couldn’t imagine how he’d fair doing it now. He chuckled as he thought about just shattering like a piece of glass if he hit the floor at his age. Hell, forty wasn’t old but he did feel it some days, and it was because of the shit he’d done when he was younger. He wondered if there were any bones he hadn’t broken. Well, he’d never broken his neck, though his father would always tell him he was going to. He was a cowboy for God’s sake, of course, he was going to break bones. Thinking of his father made him pick up his cellphone and call him. He was close to both his parents.
“Hello, son,” his dad said when he answered.
“Hey, Dad. How are you and Mom doing?”
“We’re great. How about you?”
“I’m good. I just wanted to check in with you.”
“Your mother wants to know when you’re coming for dinner.”
“I could come this week since I don’t have any client appointments.”
“No clients?”
“Not this week. I scheduled them for next week. I wanted to take a break.”
“Oh, that’s good. You need a break once in a while, Holton.”
He rolled his eyes. His parents were the only ones who called him by his given name.
“As long as the snow doesn’t amount to much, I can come for dinner any night Mom wants me to.” Holt grinned as he listened to his father relaying the message to his mother.
“She said tomorrow night.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there. I’ll let you go, Dad. I can hear a hockey game on in the background. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Love you both.”
“We love you too.” His father disconnected.
Holt got to his feet, walked to the kitchen to lock the door, and glanced outside to see the snow coming down through the beams of the lights above the barn doors. He opened the door and stepped onto the porch to just listen. The snow fell softly to the ground, barely making a sound. When he turned to go back inside, a movement caused him to stop and peer at the barn.
“Was that a wolf?” he murmured.
He sure as hell didn’t need wolves around. They couldn’t get into the barn, but they had to know the horses were in there. A large pack could take a horse down with no problem. Holt slowly made his way back into the house, grabbed his coat, and hat, put them on, then tugged on his boots, and picked up his rifle. He didn’t like killing any animal but if it came down to his horses or the wolves, there was no choice.
After quietly pulling the door closed behind him, he strolled to the steps, walked down them then strode across the yard. The snow was getting heavier and he knew wolves didn’t hibernate, so they’d look for food in any place they could find it. When he reached the barn, he looked down and saw the paw prints. They appeared too small for a wolf unless it was a young one. It could be a coyote since they didn’t hibernate either.
As he followed the prints, he saw they went around the side of the barn, so he continued to follow until he saw the animal sniffing around the ground and pushing its nose into the snow then it moved on, but Holt followed. He still couldn’t make out if it was a wolf, coyote, or dog. It was damn skinny. He could see that much. The animal ran around the back of the barn, and he ran after it. He hoped his footsteps were quiet. He didn’t want to get attacked if the beast decided to stop and wait for him. Wolves were smart as hell. He didn’t know much about coyotes, but he’d seen a pack of wolves stalk their prey in a herd before deciding which one to take down.
He rounded the back of the barn and came to a stop when he encountered the animal. It still hadn’t seen him since it was so intent on trying to find food under the snow. The light above the double doors of the barn shone down, and he could see it was a dog. He squatted down and rested the rifle across his thighs.
“Hey, buddy,” he said quietly.
The dog lifted his head from the snow. Holt did all he could not to laugh at the snow-covered face of what looked to be a very young Husky. The dog stared at him with blue eyes. His face was white, and his body, black. He looked to be purebred to him. Holt grinned as the dog wagged his tail, and he put his hand out.
“Come here. I won’t hurt you.”
The dog took tentative steps toward him but would stop and lower its head as if afraid of him. Son of a bitch. Someone needed the hell beat out of them if they mistreated this animal. As the dog stepped closer, he noticed a collar on it. Once the dog reached him, Holt rubbed its head, and the dog tried to get closer and knocked him down in the snow.
“Shit, that’s cold on my ass.”
Sweatpants weren’t the best thing
to wear in the snow. He tried to push the dog off him, but it kept trying to get as close as it could. He grabbed the collar, pulled the dog off him, and held it while he laid the rifle on the snow then pushed to his feet and leaned down to try to see if there was any identification on the collar or who the dog belonged to, but there was nothing. The damn collar was so loose he could have slipped it over the dog’s head. He brushed the snow off the back of his sweatpants, picked up the rifle, and leaned it against the barn door. He slid one door open, lifted the dog, grabbed the rifle, and stepped inside the barn. It was warmer than outside, but not by much. He turned, slid the door closed, propped the rifle against the wall then set the dog down. It sat and looked up at him. Holt removed his hat, raked his fingers through his hair, then resettled it. He put his hands on his hips and stared at the dog.
“Now what?”
He had no idea what to do with the animal. There was no name of any kind on the collar, and he had a feeling someone had either dropped the dog off or abandoned it somewhere, and somehow the dog made its way to his ranch. It had been years since he had a dog. He loved them, but he never thought it was fair to have one and not spend enough time with it. Once he married Carolyn, they couldn’t have one because she’d been allergic.
Huffing out a breath, he picked up the rifle and decided to just leave the dog in the barn for the night. It was better than leaving it outside in the elements. The temperature was supposed to drop into the lower twenties. Winters hung on as long as they could in Montana. It never surprised anyone if it snowed as late as April.
He strode down the aisle of the barn to the other doors and headed for the side door when he looked behind him to see where the dog had gone, and he saw him at his heels. Holt stopped at the door and looked at…him. The dog was definitely male.
“You stay here and if I can, tomorrow I’ll take you to see the vet. Maybe she knows who you belong to.” He pushed the door open, stepped out, and closed it behind him. The dog started barking.
Holt Men of Clifton, Montana Book 12 Page 3
