“City girl,” Aiden grumbled.
Chet gave him a look. “We’re on their property, so let’s try to be nice …”
His thoughts drifted away like a well-cast fishing line on a lazy river. The woman sliding out of the moving van was gorgeous. She walked across the gravel driveway and weed-covered yard like a runway model, and had the figure to go with it. Her loose hair bounced against her back in giant curls, the late-day sun bringing out a beautiful caramel color. She had a perfect smile that reached every part of her face and made her glow. She was about his age, maybe a smidge younger, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. This could not be Old Lady Boston, could it?
Chet looked down at his dust-covered and worn-out work jeans. His shirt was untucked and he was covered in dust from working on the tractor all day.
“Well, isn’t this just the perfect welcome? Look at all these darlings. They are absolutely beautiful.” She turned to call to the other woman getting out of the egg car. “Cat, get over here and look at the eyes on this girl. They’re as big as tennis balls. Oh, you’re a stunner, aren’t you?”
Chet’s eyes went wide. Was she talking to the cows? He looked at Aiden, but his nephew’s jaw was dragging in the dirt as he stared at the woman like a lovesick puppy. The other woman approached, much slower in her high-heeled boots, and held her hands out as if the cattle would charge at any moment.
“Can I pet her?” the first woman asked Chet. Before he could answer she continued, “Will she bite?”
“Um—”
“Or, it’s probably kick, right? Will she kick me if I try and rub her between the eyes? Oh, look at that one, she has a star on her forehead. She’s wonderful. This is awesome. Cat, isn’t this the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?”
Chet put his hand up, like a crossing guard, hoping to calm down this beautiful, albeit crazy woman before she decided to hug the livestock. He wasn’t quite sure where to start with her. Should he tell her cattle don’t usually kick forward—they just give a start and sometimes land a hoof on your toes? Or should he apologize for letting his livestock leave divots in her yard? He looked first to Aiden, who was only moments away from drooling, to the other woman. What was her name? Cat. What kind of name was Cat? She was a beauty in her own right, but didn’t have that quality that left him feeling as tangled up as a steer at a roping competition. And she had a look that said she’d rather be left alone.
The woman took a step toward the nearest cow, and Chet found his voice. “Ma’am, I don’t recommend you get too friendly with the animals.” Chet grimaced when his voice cracked on the word friendly, but he got the message across.
“Oh.” Her shoulders fell. “That’s all right. Are these your cows?”
Pride filled Chet’s chest. “Yes, ma’am.”
Grinning, she wrinkled her petite nose. “‘Ma’am’ makes me feel old. I know it’s supposed to be polite and everything, but I don’t think I’m a ma’am. Maybe a miss. Do you think I could be a miss? Or are misses younger? What do you call girls?” she asked Aiden.
Aiden’s grin could have split a two-by-four. “I think you could pull off ‘miss.’” He bobbed his head like a rooster in the henhouse. “Yeah, you could totally pull it off.”
Chet wanted to crawl under the front porch. If his sister-in-law saw Aiden right now, she’d have him scrubbing the stalls clean for the next week. “Uh—” He looked back and forth between the two women, not sure how to break this whole thing up and save the family pride.
Cat gave Chet a look that said she didn’t quite trust him and tugged on the other woman’s arm. “We have to unload.”
“Oh, right. What was I thinking?” Just like that, her beautiful smile was back in place, as if everything was right in the whole wide world. When she caught Chet’s eye, he couldn't imagine anything ever going wrong.
“We could help,” volunteered Aiden. He puffed out his chest and pulled back his shoulders. “We could be your muscle.”
Chet would have laughed if he hadn’t caught himself puffing up too. He cleared his throat and relaxed his shoulders.
The Boston Beauty gave Chet a once-over. “I’ll bet you could.” She ripped her eyes away, and her face clouded over. “But it will be awhile before we’re ready to unload and you two look busy. Thanks anyway.”
Chet rocked back on his heels. He couldn’t remember the last time someone turned him down for something as simple as unloading a truck. In his experience, neighbors usually jumped in to help one another and happily accepted the help.
“Thanks for giving us a welcome to remember,” said Boston.
The women linked arms and headed back toward the truck. They stopped in front of the house, chatting and pointing, though Chet couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Chet looked down and saw his hat in his hands. When did he take that off? His memory was all fuzzy. In fact, he couldn’t remember much of what just happened. It was like a happy tornado had blown into town and stunned him so hard he’d gone into shock. The effect wore off the minute the women disappeared inside the house. Chet stuffed the hat back on his mop-top and cuffed Aiden in the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get this done and get out of here.”
They worked quickly, and Chet finished tightening the wire he’d used to patch the hole just as Cat came down the porch stairs. Chet felt his face flame. They must think he was a plain country hick. He hadn’t introduced himself, nor had he gotten the name of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Cat gave him another look out of the corner of her eye but didn’t stop to chat. That was just fine with Chet. He and Aiden climbed into the cab of his truck.
“Wow!” said Aiden as they pulled away. “Just, wow. Old Lady Boston! Dude—you had no idea, did you?”
Chet shook his head. Nope, he had no idea the woman moving into the old Calaway place would knock the breath, and brain, right out of him.
“Did you know there were two of them?”
“Nope. A while back Mom said there was an old couple that owned the place. I thought it would be one of them moving in.”
“Do you think they, you know, noticed us?”
Chet barked a laugh. “You mean noticed the way you drooled over them? Yeah, I think they noticed. Way to play it cool.”
“Like you were any better. Uh, um, duh, friendly cows.” Aiden held his hands up, imitating Chet.
Chet slugged him in the leg. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”
“I’m good with that.” Aiden craned his neck so he could look in the side mirror. “Man, I think I’m going to college in Boston.”
“You and me both.” Chet muttered. He wiped at the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. His new neighbor was much more than he bargained for.
Chapter 3
Mercedes watched the truck disappear down the dirt road. She’d watched the men repair the fence with a sense of awe. The way they dug right in and tackled the project was admirable. It was obviously physical work, and Mercy had never seen a man use his whole body to accomplish a task like that before. The cowboy wasn’t huge—not like Jeremey, who had more muscles than brains—but he was well-built, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. No sitting around on the couch for this Western Wonder. Not to mention, his strong jaw line, covered in three-day stubble, brought a whole new meaning to the words “ruggedly handsome” and had Mercy fanning herself.
Cat came in carrying a large box stuffed with cleaning supplies. “Watch out for the railing on the stairs, it’s not steady.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’d give you an update on the fence, but somehow I think you know more than I do. I thought you swore off men.”
“I swore off rippling-muscle type men.”
Cat raised one eyebrow.
Mercy held up her hands. “There’s no harm in looking.”
“You’re hopeless.” Cat shook her head.
“Just. Looking.”
Mercy took in the front room. Most of the furniture was draped with white sh
eets of fabric, and there was dust everywhere. “I feel inspired to get this job done.” She yanked a sheet off a chair, and a cloud of dust filled the room.
Waving her hands in front of her face, Cat opened a window. “How about we fold them together and then take them out to shake them off?”
Mercy coughed. “Good idea.” There was no quick fix on this house. They’d wandered through each room of the ranch-style home, discussing what needed to be done. The wallpaper had to come down. Some of it was quaint, but most of it was hideous. The kitchen needed an upgrade.
“What do you think about selling the appliances back home? We could list them, include shipping, and make a little extra money,” asked Cat.
“They’re definitely vintage. I bet they’d sell fast.” She picked up two corners of a sheet and waited for Cat to grab the other two. When she did, they folded the sheet so most of the dust stayed inside.
“How are we going to cook without a kitchen? I didn’t think about it until we got out here, but there’s not a pizza joint in sight, and the nearest restaurant—was that Big C’s or B’s or G’s or whatever?—we passed on the way through town.”
“We’ll think of something.”
They worked together for a few more minutes in silence.
“Look at that!” Cat exclaimed. She whipped the sheet they’d been folding out the open window and ran her hands over the roll top desk. “Do you think it opens?”
Mercy grinned. Cat was finally excited about something. For days before they left, and during the whole ride to Montana, she’d been sullen. She hadn’t even cracked a smile when Mercy pulled over at the Montana welcome sign and took a couple selfies. But an antique, roll top desk brightened her up like Fenway Park.
The top stuck for a moment. Mercy took one side and Cat took the other. “On three,” said Mercy. “One, two, three!” They both heaved, and the top rolled up one slat at a time, clicking as it went.
“It’s gorgeous.” Cat ran her hands over the oak.
“I think you found your writing station.” Mercy draped her arm over Cat’s shoulder. “Admit it, you’re dying to set up your laptop and tuck all your little three-by-fives in the cubbies.”
Cat grinned. “Alls I know is that I’m not bringing my laptop in here until all the dust is gone.” She reached for a rag. “Did you call to have the water turned on?”
“Yeah, I did it before we left. Power, too.” Mercy found a pair of yellow kitchen gloves in the cleaning box and grabbed a bottle of furniture polish and a rag. “I’ll start on the fireplace mantle.”
“I’ll get us some water.” Just as she was about to open the door, there was a knock. Cat stepped back. “There’s no peephole,” she whispered.
Mercy threw her hands in the air. “We’re not in the city anymore.” She stomped over to the door. “Scaredy-cat,” she whispered as Cat took position behind the door, ready to clobber whomever it was with the bottle of cleaner.
When Mercy touched the metal doorknob, a chill went up her arm. They were alone on an empty road with doe-eyed cows as their nearest neighbors. She shook off her apprehension; after all, she didn’t beat up Dexton Driggles in the sixth grade because she was a wimp. She yanked the door open to find a woman in a faded blue paisley apron. She had a towel-wrapped loaf of bread that smelled divine in her hands. The young man who helped repair the fence stood just behind her, grinning.
“Hi, I’m Whitney, Chet’s sister-in-law, and this is my son, Aiden.”
Mercy tipped her head to the side. “Chet?”
Whitney’s brow crinkled. “The man who owns the cows that made your front yard look like this.” She transferred the loaf to one hand and waved her other one around.
Mercy wasn’t sure what the problem with her front yard was, but she didn’t want to be rude. “Come in, come in. I’m sorry it’s such a mess, we just got here and haven’t had time to do much.”
She stepped back to let them enter. Aiden tripped over the threshold and turned bright red.
Mercy hid her smile. “I’m Mercedes, and this is my sister, Catrina.”
Cat hurriedly set the cleaner down and stepped out to meet their guests.
“Mercedes, like the car?” asked Aiden.
“No, but people often make that mistake,” said Mercy. She loved her name, but no one ever got where it actually came from. She was sure that if her father, a gentleman through and through, had any indication of the way men used her name as a pickup line, he would have nixed the whole idea. But he didn’t, and she was stuck with it. “Please, call me Mercy.”
“You got it.” Aiden ran his hand through his hair; a move Mercy was sure worked on the girls at his high school. It made her want to pat him on the head like a little boy who was trying really hard. What a cutie!
“Well, I just stopped by to bring you some bread and welcome you to the area.”
“Thanks—it smells wonderful.”
“Did you make it?” asked Cat.
“I did.”
“Is it hard to do?”
“Not really. I use my grandma’s recipe and it turns out every time. If you’d like, I can make a copy for you.”
Cat relaxed. “Wicked pissa! Thanks.”
Whitney and Aiden exchanged a look at Cat’s word choice, and Mercy grinned. They’d have to get used to things here. At the last hotel, the clerk had given her that same look when she said she needed to get back in the room after they’d checked out because she forgot her bobos.
“There’s no rush,” continued Cat. “We won’t have a working kitchen for at least a month.”
“Oh! Well, in that case, why don’t you two plan on coming to our picnic tonight? School just got out and the whole family’s getting together as a kickoff to summer.”
Mercy exchanged a look with Cat. “We don’t want to impose.”
“Please.” Whitney waved away their worries as she pressed the bread into Cat’s hands. “We’ll have more than enough food, and it will give you a chance to meet everyone.” She motioned to Aiden and he opened the door for them. “It’s at Chet’s place. If you head straight up this road, you can’t miss it. Five o’clock or thereabouts.”
“I’m going to find a clean spot to put this bread,” said Cat as she made her way toward the kitchen.
“Thanks!” Mercy called as she watched them climb down the steps.
There was a loud crack, and the banister fell away under Aiden’s hand. He twisted to avoid hitting his mom and landed in the dirt.
“Are you all right?” Mercy ran down the steps and knelt beside him. “Are you hurt?”
Aiden gave her a brave smile and groaned. “Yeah—all over.”
“What can I do?” Mercy felt awful. Even though she didn’t push him down, she should have warned him about the railing. She brushed his hair off his forehead before checking his head for a bump.
“I am so sorry.” Whitney put her hands on Mercy’s shoulders and pulled her up before turning on her son. “Get up, ya big faker.” She nudged him with her foot.
Mercy couldn’t believe a mother would be so callous toward her son. “But he’s hurt.”
“No, he’s not, but he’s going to be if he doesn’t stop teasing you.” She gave Aiden another nudge.
“Aw.” Aiden got to his feet as gracefully as a teenaged boy could. Other than a little dust on his shoulder, he appeared the picture of health.
“He’s just looking to get some attention from a pretty girl. Go start the car.” She hip-bumped Aiden as he went by.
He pretended to be offended and wasn’t at all chagrinned.
Mercy realized she’d been played. She chuckled. “You’d better watch out for that one.”
“Ever since he made the football team, he thinks he’s all that and a batch of peanut butter cookies.” Whitney rolled her eyes. She watched Aiden with fondness. “He comes by it honestly.”
“His dad was like that?” asked Mercy.
“A carbon copy. But he’s a good man. All the men in the family a
re. So I have hope Aiden will turn out. He spends a lot of time with his uncle Chet, and I couldn’t ask for a better influence on the kid.”
Mercy wasn’t sure what to say. She was relieved to have someone vouch for their neighbor. He’d seemed like a good guy, didn’t say much. But, he was so scrumptious his middle name could be ‘Cannoli.’ He’d taken his hat off like a gentleman when she approached, and that gesture had put her at ease. It was sweet gestures like pulling out her chair or holding a door that caused her to let her guard down.
Aiden’s little stunt showed her she was still too trusting, and it bothered her. She’d thought she’d learned her lesson after Jeremey. Suddenly, going to a picnic full of handsome men didn’t seem like such a good idea.
“Listen to me go on when I have so much to do.” Whitney crossed the yard. “We’ll see you later!”
“Bye.” Mercy waved before heading back into the house, where she found Cat ripping off hunks of bread and stuffing them into her cheeks.
“What? This is wicked pissa,” she said around a mouthful. She swallowed. “Besides, there’s no clean place to put it down.”
“You seem happier,” said Mercy as she ripped off a good sized piece of bread. Oh, heaven, it was still warm.
Cat sank to the edge of the couch they’d recently uncovered. “Things are falling into place. First the desk and then a neighbor who can teach me to make bread like this … I think this is all going to work out.”
“Good.” At least one of us feels good about this. The more Mercy learned about her neighbors, the less she felt like spending an evening with them.
Cat bumped her with her shoulder. “Go ahead and say it.”
“No, there’s no need to rub it in.”
“Say it—or you’ll burst.”
Mercy laughed. “I told you so.”
Cat shoved another piece of bread in her mouth. After a few minutes of eating in silence, and finishing three-quarters of the loaf, Cat said, “There’s so much to do.”
“The front railing broke off.”
“No biggie. That’s an easy fix.”
“It’s just one more thing.”
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 12
