“Hi. I’m Abigail.”
“Wade. Sorry to keep you waiting.” And he was especially sorry he smelled like cow flesh and wore the grime of a day spent in the corral branding a hundred feisty calves.
He ditched the towel and extended his hand. At least that was clean.
“I’ve been enjoying talking to your daughter.” Her grip was firm, her skin soft.
He pulled away quickly. “Maddy, why don’t you run along and let us talk.”
Maddy gave Abigail a small smile before heading up the stairs.
He ran his hand through his hair, aware he no doubt had a bad case of hat head. When he heard Maddy’s bedroom door close, he gestured toward the album. “Sorry. Looks like she got a little overzealous with the family history.”
“Not at all. I met Maddy the other day in my aunt’s store, and we’ve become fast friends. I guess she told you I’m Lucy Bowers’s great-niece.”
He took a seat in the recliner across from her. “She did.” With the exception of the “great” part.
“I like Maddy a lot.”
“She’s at ease around you already. I’m surprised.”
“She was shy at first, seemed a little lost. But then she opened up. I think she’s a loyal and curious girl. Strong, too, though she may not know it yet.”
He kept his expression blank only from years of practice. The woman knew his kid better after a couple days than her past nanny had after three summers.
“Sorry if I offended you,” she said, absently playing with the silver ring on her right hand.
He cleared his throat. “Appreciate your honesty.”
“I have good intuition, or so I’m told.”
The announcement and proof of its accuracy made Wade want to don a lead mask. But some things couldn’t be intuited, no matter how discerning the woman, and those things he would carry to his grave.
“I have a great deal of respect for your aunt,” he said. “She’s a fine Christian woman, and she’s been good to Maddy. You’re visiting for the summer?”
“My mom wanted me to check on Aunt Lucy, as she’s getting up in years. I have a three-month leave of absence from my job in Chicago.”
Long leave of absence.
“Health reasons,” she added as if sensing his question.
He wondered if it would be rude to inquire. Would her health limit her?
“Nothing serious.” She waved her hand. “Just needed a break and a change of scenery—which this certainly is.”
“No doubt.” He eyed her getup and wondered if she had ranch duds.
“I have jeans,” she said. “And I should probably buy a pair of boots.”
It was a little disconcerting, the way she read his mind. “Probably should.”
“I like the ranch name—Stillwater. Did you name it?”
“Got it from Scripture. You know, ‘He leads me by quiet waters.’”
“Ah, Psalm 23. A popular one.”
“Seemed fitting.” Before she could question his comment, he changed the subject. “Our nanny usually stays here in the main house—my hours aren’t exactly nine to five.” He looked her over, feeling a twinge of something he hadn’t felt in a while. “But if you want to stay at your aunt’s—”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind staying here. I’d be more available to Maddy, and honestly, the couch at Aunt Lucy’s? Not so comfy.” Her wide smile kicked him in the gut.
He was so in trouble. “Fine.”
“I hope you wouldn’t mind us checking on her now and then. I don’t have a car, but we could walk over.”
“You’re welcome to use my truck. Maddy likes visiting your aunt, so that’d be fine. Sundays off?” He named a wage that seemed fair, considering the free room and board.
“Perfect. When does school end?”
“Tomorrow’s the last day. You can come the next morning and settle in if that suits.”
Abigail smiled again. “Suits me fine. Thanks for your time.” She stood and swung her bag onto her shoulder.
He moved to tip his hat, then remembered it wasn’t there. “ ’Night then.”
After she walked through the door, he turned on the porch light and watched her walk to the yellow bug, skirt swishing around her long legs, and wondered if he hadn’t just bought himself a whole heap of trouble.
6
Dust plumed behind the wheels of the VW as Abigail drove down the winding gravel driveway toward the main house. She’d been worried Aunt Lucy might feel slighted by her new job, but instead the woman had seemed relieved.
“You’ll be good for Maddy. I worry about that child,” she’d said when Abigail had broken the news two nights ago. “And now you won’t have to sleep on my lumpy old sofa, but you’ll still be nearby.”
Abigail had promised they’d visit often. But now, with her bags packed and stowed in the backseat, she recalled Wade’s dark good looks and slow Southern drawl and wondered if the summer wasn’t going to be more challenging than she’d planned.
When she pulled the bug up to the porch to unload her belongings, Maddy ran out to meet her.
“No more school!” The girl’s smile spoke for itself.
“Yay, summer!” Abigail exited the car and pulled her bags from the backseat.
“I can help.”
Abigail handed her a case. “Careful with that. It’s my laptop.”
“You’re so lucky! My dad won’t even let me on his computer.”
“Well, maybe he won’t mind if you play games on mine.”
“Sweet! I’ll show you to your room.”
Abigail followed Maddy into the house and up the staircase. The steps creaked as they ascended, and when they reached the top, Abigail followed the girl down the short hall to the second room on the left.
She opened the door and flipped the switch, lighting a bedside lamp. The clean scents of pine and lemon permeated the room. A fluffy patchwork quilt covered the high double bed, and a braided rug hugged the wood plank flooring.
Abigail set her bags by the foot of the bed, then trailed her fingers down the nubby stitching on the quilt. “It’s lovely.”
“The drawers are ready for your things, but there’s a bunch of junk in the closet.” Maddy set the laptop case on the white-painted desk. “Wanna see my room?”
“Of course.”
Maddy gestured to the room across from Abigail’s. “That’s the bathroom we’ll share.” A towel lay bunched on the floor against the sink, and various toiletries lined the countertop.
“Here’s my room.” It was next to the bathroom and across from the other bedroom door—Wade’s, she presumed.
Maddy plopped on the bed, making it squeak.
The room was a bit larger than Abigail’s, with basic white walls and honey-stained furniture. The sculptured brown carpet was a few days past its expiration date. Two photos sat framed and propped on the dresser, one of Destiny and the other of a young Wade with his arm around a pretty young woman—Maddy’s mother?
“Very cozy,” Abigail said.
The only splash of color in the plain-Jane room was a green pillow on the bed. Maybe they could redecorate. After they tracked down Maddy’s bike. Speaking of which . . .
“I called the used bike shop yesterday, and they didn’t have any news for us. I have some other ideas, but I wanted your input.”
“Can we do it later? I want to show you the corral and stuff. They’re branding right now, and it’s pretty fun to watch.”
“Sure.”
“You need a snack?” Maddy pulled Twizzlers from her desk drawer.
“Don’t mind if I do.” She took the red sticks from Maddy and followed her into the hall.
“That’s Dad’s room.” Maddy pushed open the door and flipped the switch. A masculine scent wafted into the hall. The lamplight revealed a room with dark walls and simple mahogany furniture. Tidy. Plain. A cowboy hat and shirt hung on a tree in the corner and a pair of black boots sat on the floor below them.
She found
herself curious about the man who occupied the room. Why was he all alone out here with his daughter? Why didn’t he date? Was he still mourning his late wife?
“Come on, I’ll show you where the action is.”
Abigail stuck the licorice in her mouth and bit off the tip, her mind still on Wade as she followed Maddy down the stairs and out the door. He’d seemed nice enough, not strange or rude or arrogant. How did a man who looked like that stay single all these years? And exactly how long had it been since his wife passed away?
She remembered her aunt saying something about Wade and Maddy moving here and recalled the photos Maddy had shown her. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but the terrain was different in some of them. Flat and arid looking. Plus, there was Wade’s Southern drawl.
“Maddy, where did you move from when you came to Montana?”
“Texas. Don’t really remember it though. Dad bought the ranch when I was seven. It was called the Flying B, but he changed it to Stillwater Ranch.”
Her mother must’ve died before they moved. Abigail didn’t know many men who could go five years without a woman. But then, Maddy couldn’t know everything about her dad.
Abigail could hear the ruckus from the corral when they were still a distance away. Cows mooing, hooves pounding, men’s voices.
They walked along the barn to the fence that enclosed a herd of calves and cowboys. It was a noisy affair. Her eyes scanned the men until she found Wade on horseback. One of the cowboys wore a big silver belt buckle that looked like the ones in Maddy’s album.
Abigail gestured toward him. “Did he win a rodeo contest too?”
“Uncle Dylan? Yeah, he used to rodeo with Dad. Moved up here a couple years after we did. Trophy buckles are a big deal, so cowboys like to show them off.”
She looked at Wade. “Not your dad though?”
Maddy shrugged. “He doesn’t talk much about his rodeo days.”
“You have any other family here, other than your uncle Dylan?”
“No, and he’s not really my uncle. He’s dad’s best friend, so I just call him that.”
Wade twirled his rope, then tossed it. It sailed in a misshapen loop toward a calf.
“Got it.” Maddy set her knee on a low fence rail.
Two young muscular cowboys closed in on the calf as it came to the ground.
“Nobody’s better at heeling a calf than Dad. That’s why he does the roping.”
Abigail couldn’t help but feel for the animal as it was dragged across the ground.
“That’s the branding pot, where they heat the irons.” Maddy pointed to the low machine at the feet of another cowboy. The calf was dragged to the heater, and a gloved man grabbed a long metal tool protruding from the heater. Two men held down the calf and blocked her view, but she turned her head anyway.
When the calf squealed, she wanted to cover her ears. She glanced distastefully at her half-eaten Twizzler.
“They vaccinate and notch her ears as another way of marking— you’re not watching.”
“Tell me when it’s over.”
Maddy laughed. “Be thankful it’s not a bull calf.”
Abigail didn’t ask why.
“You can look now,” Maddy said a moment later, wrinkling her nose at the smell—an awful stench that smelled like burning hair.
Abigail scanned the pen until she found the branded calf trotting wild-eyed to her mother’s side. Poor thing. Abigail scanned the scores of calves. “They have to do that to all those calves?”
Maddy shrugged. “Part of ranch work. Cowboys love this stuff.”
“Where did all these men come from?”
“Most of ’em are neighbors. Dad’ll help them with their branding too.”
Abigail watched Wade trot the horse across the pen. He looked tall in the saddle. Masculine. He had fawn-colored chaps over his jeans and gloves on his hands. He and the black horse moved as one.
It seemed like it would take forever to get all those calves done. “They do this all day?”
“Till supper.”
Abigail imagined Wade and the others would be beat after a day of wrestling frightened calves.
Just then he turned in the saddle as if sensing their presence.
“Hi, Dad!” Maddy waved.
Wade lifted a gloved hand to his daughter, his eyes lingering. He touched the brim of his hat, and Abigail felt his gaze clear down to her dirty tennis shoes.
“You ready to go in and unpack?” Maddy asked.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Abigail took a bite of roasted chicken, her gaze darting between Wade and Maddy. Was it always this quiet at dinner? The silence felt awkward, though the other two seemed at ease.
Abigail couldn’t stand it anymore. “The branding was interesting.”
“Abigail couldn’t watch,” Maddy said.
She shrugged a little, embarrassed at her weak stomach. “I felt sorry for the poor little things.”
“Keeps ’em safe in the long run,” Wade said. “No different than kids. Sometimes what’s good for them is less than pleasant. They get over it soon enough.”
“The calves or the kids?” Abigail asked.
“Both.”
“Hey, I’m right here, you know.”
Wade winked at Maddy.
He hadn’t come in until eight thirty, and Maddy said that was normal. That didn’t give her much time with her dad during the summer, much less during the school year when she presumably had an earlier bedtime. But then, he was a single dad, and if ranch work was that time consuming, what choice did he have?
“All settled in?” Wade asked Abigail.
When she looked at him, his gaze flickered away. He never held eye contact long.
“I am. And I have to say, I’m looking forward to a real mattress.”
“Hope your aunt doesn’t think we stole you away.”
“We’ll visit plenty, won’t we, Maddy? Plus, I promised I’d attend church with her on Sundays. Anyway, I’m still trying to assess her mental faculties. It’s kind of . . . challenging.”
“She’s always been eccentric,” Wade said. “Least, since I’ve known her.”
“I think she’s fun,” Maddy said. “She has a great imagination.”
Abigail smiled. “I’ll say. She talks to her dolls like they’re her children, and she told me you were voted Sexiest Man Alive for some magazine.”
“Ewwww!” Maddy said.
Abigail realized immediately that she’d made it sound like an impossibility. “I didn’t mean . . .” She stopped at the look in Wade’s eyes.
A deer in headlights. Then, just as quickly, his lids shuttered his eyes and the feelings behind them. What had she seen in those blue eyes? Not embarrassment or even offense. She watched him covertly as he gulped down his milk and Maddy chattered. He’d looked . . . caught. Which was awfully strange, given Abigail’s benign comment. Unless . . .
But how could it be true? Some obscure rancher given the notorious award? Even if it had been back in his rodeo days, the celebrity world didn’t pay attention to ordinary cowboys, did it? She’d never followed celebrities or read those ridiculous tabloids, though, so what did she know?
Well, it was easy enough to check. One Internet search, and she could put the silly notion from her mind.
7
Abigail didn’t remember her resolve to do an Internet search on Wade until the next morning. By the time Maddy had turned in the night before, Abigail was tired and ready for a real mattress, which turned out to be as comfy as it looked.
After Maddy had eaten and gone to get dressed, Abigail turned on her laptop. When she tried to get online, she found the wireless secured. She’d have to get the password from Wade, but he was busy with branding now. It would have to wait until evening.
Once Maddy was ready, they watched the branding again. Maddy was itching to help, especially when one of the cowboys’ sons worked a small calf. The boy straddled the wiggling calf, and with the help of his dad, h
eld him down while the others did their thing.
Maddy scowled. “That kid is way littler than me.” She hopped down from the fence. “Can we eat now?”
After lunch they went to Abigail’s room so she could get the number for the bike store in Bozeman. Maddy flopped across the bed while Abigail checked her cell phone for the number. “Maybe there’ll be news today.”
A message waited on her phone. Marla at Pappy’s Market had seen a pink bike in front of Movie Magic Video on her way to work. She’d just left the message four minutes earlier.
“Maddy, we’ve got a break on the case.”
Maddy’s eyes went to the laptop case. “I didn’t do it. I was real careful when I brought it in.”
Abigail laughed. “The bicycle case. That was Marla from the market.” She repeated the message. “The bike might still be there. You know where the truck keys are?”
“Sure do!”
They retrieved the keys from a hook in the kitchen and trotted to the old red truck. It started with a cough and a sputter, then Abigail maneuvered it out of its space. They stopped by the corral to let Wade know, then headed down the drive.
“You think it’s my bike?” Maddy asked once they were on the main road.
“Are there any other pink bikes in town?”
“Not that I know of.”
They were so close. If they could only get there before the bike disappeared, they’d catch their thief red-handed.
“Can’t you go faster?”
“I’m going the speed limit.” Her foot itched to press down, but she had to be mindful of setting a good example.
When they reached town, Abigail turned toward the video store. They both leaned forward in their seats, peering around the parked cars in front of the stores.
“There it is!” Maddy said.
“Is it yours?” Abigail parked on the opposite side of the street.
“Sure looks like it. It’s got a white basket. Mine had a scratch on the frame from when I took a spill on the driveway, so I’ll know for sure when we get close.”
They exited the truck, waited for a pickup to pass, and darted across the street.
Big Sky Romance Collection Page 4
