Mercedes pressed her lips together. What were they talking about?
“Um …”
“Chet?” David poked his head through the door.
Chet jumped away from Mercedes, and she rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. For a moment there, she’d lost her focus. There was a reason she was vulnerable around Chet, It had to be the exhaustion … and the hunger. That was it, she was hungry-delusional. That was an actual thing, right?
“What?” Chet asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked ... guilty.
Hmm, that was … interesting.
David wiggled his eyebrows, and Chet glared. “We need the other propane tank. Did you get it filled?”
“Yeah, it’s in the garage.”
“Will you grab it? You know, if you’re not getting busy in here.” David grinned. “I mean, if you’re not too busy.”
Chet clenched his jaw. “I’ll be right out.”
“We need it now. I can get it, if you two are in the middle of something …” David let the implication hang there.
Mercedes flipped the first aid kit closed. She couldn’t let Chet take all the heat, not when he’d been helping her. “I think we’re done,” she said in what she hoped was a casual voice.
“I’ll get it.” Chet walked over and shut the door before David could say anything else. He turned around and looked everywhere but at Mercedes. “I think you should be with people, just in case. I have a lounge chair in the garage you can use to rest.”
“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“You’re welcome.” Chet slid the back door open and motioned for Mercedes to go first.
Whitney was right there when she stepped out, and Mercedes wondered if David had sent his wife to check on them. “What’s going on, you two?”
Chet rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something about propane before his long legs took him toward the garage. Mercedes watched him go, wondering whether he’d felt any of the sparks she did or it was just her being her.
Whitney nudged Mercy with her elbow and gave her a knowing smile. “It’s hard not to stare—they are a good-looking bunch. But don’t be fooled: Chet may look like he’s cut from the same cloth, but the Lord used a different pattern when putting him together.”
Mercy smiled to hide her embarrassment at being caught checking Chet out. “How do you mean?” She followed Whitney over to the buffet table, took a heavy-duty paper plate and loaded it up with potato salad, raw veggies, a hamburger bun, and a huge peanut butter cookie.
“What’s going on?” asked a woman with sandy blond hair and what Mercy was starting to recognize as the Bauer eyes: blue as the sky with a hint of ice. With the highlights in her hair, the eyes weren’t as startling on the woman before her as they had been when peering out from under Chet’s baseball hat.
“Hi, Vicky. I was just about to fill Mercedes in on Chet’s obsession.”
“His books? He’s a cinch to buy a Christmas present for.” She laughed. “He’s got great taste and he doesn’t mind loaning them out. If you ever need something to read, Chet’s got it covered. He’s like the Bauer family library.”
Mercedes wondered what it would have been like to grow up in such a large family. Taking in the yard, she noticed that the children ran free and the adults and teens mixed easily. Aiden was back to throwing the football, and the younger girls gathered at a small table having their version of a tea party. Her fingers itched to sketch the scene, and she studied it to imprint the colors in her mind.
“Hello?” David waved a spatula in front of her face.
“Sorry.” Mercedes smiled. “I was just … what did you ask?”
“Chicken or burger?”
“Chicken.”
David put a piece of fried chicken on her bun and winked. “If Chet gives you any grief, you come to me, okay?”
Mercedes looked quickly away. Had her attraction to Chet been that obvious? It wasn’t her fault his touch made her shiver—and not in the I-feel-a-draft kind of way, but in the holy-cow-you’re-incredibly-hot kind of shivers. She didn’t expect to have any issues with Chet, because she was going to steer clear of him from now on. Only time apart would keep his family from assuming they were an item. Her cheeks grew warm.
David laughed.
“You leave her alone or she’ll never come back.” Whitney smacked David’s shoulder.
Just then, Chet arrived, holding a fold-up lounge chair in one hand. His shirt pulled tight over the muscles in his arm, and it didn’t even look like he was straining under the weight of the chair. “I have to run. Wade called. One of the steers is stuck in the fence between our place and his. He needs some help.”
A battle raged inside Mercedes. She’d sworn off good-looking men, and this guy was as good-looking as they come with his dark blonde hair, tan skin, and well-formed muscles.
On impulse, she pressed her plate into his free hand. “Here, take this.”
Chet looked down at the plate and then back to her. “I can’t take your dinner.”
“I can make another plate.”
Chet began to protest. “But—”
“I’d feel bad if you missed dinner because you were helping me.”
“Well …”
“Oh, go on.” Whitney shooed him away. “The sooner you get up there, the sooner you can get back.”
Chet moved away several steps and then turned back. “I almost forgot.” He handed the chair to David. “Will you set this up for her?”
“I can do that.” Mercedes reached out to take his burden.
“Nope, it’s against the rules around here.” Chet smiled easily and handed the chair to David.
Mercedes let her hand drop. Her dad would have said the same thing.
“Sure.” David set down his spatula, and Chet hurried off, turning and waving before disappearing around the corner of the house.
Mercedes held back her sigh of contentment. No. Swooning.
“Where do you want to sit?” asked David.
“I guess by Cat would be good.”
“Okay.” David made his way over and set up the chair.
Mercedes stared after him.
Whitney smiled. “That’s the other thing that’s irresistible about the Bauer men. They know how to treat a lady.”
Well, crap—how would she ever stay away from a guy as good-looking as Chet if he was also a gentleman?
Chapter 5
It was well after dark before Chet made it home. The steer had done a number on the fence, tangling barbed wire as if it were yarn. In the process, he’d cut himself pretty deep and required a set of stitches. Wade called the vet while Chet kept the steer calm. Chet wanted to throw something; that bill would set him back a pretty penny. But things like this happened. It was a way of life with animals. He just didn’t know how many more of these surprises he, or his bank account, could take. At this rate, he wouldn’t make his next mortgage payment. Losing the ranch was a possibility Chet wasn’t ready to face. He just needed to have faith that things were going to work out all right.
After a warm shower, Chet collapsed onto his bed, ready to sleep the night away. His eyes landed on the first aid kit on his night stand. One of his sisters must have brought it in here when they cleaned up after the party. His train of thought wasn’t all that long: party—Mercedes.
She was something else. He didn’t even know girls like that existed. He recalled the way her hair smelled like coconuts and dust, like she’d been working right up until she came to the barbecue.
That’s the difference between a girl like that and a guy like you … He flipped to his other side. I show up looking like a hick in my dust-covered pants and sweaty hat, and she looks like she walked off the queen’s float at the Founder’s Day Parade.
He scrunched up his pillow, threw his hands behind his head, and replayed the few moments they’d shared. When he got to the part where he almost kissed her, he groaned. How stupid would that have been?
Hi, welcome to my
home—no, welcome to my state. I’m glad you’re here and I’m going to kiss you now.
Idiot!
Well, at least David had saved him from embarrassing himself. Not that David hadn’t embarrassed him plenty. Chet groaned again. He hadn’t been that humiliated since David hung his Star Wars underwear on the clothesline right before his tenth birthday. When he and his friends ran out to play football, they were greeted by the whole cast flapping away in the summer breeze.
He wasn’t going to let anything like that happen again. No sir. He was going to stick to his side of the fence from now on.
Chapter 6
A couple days later, Mercedes stumbled into the front room, her bunny slippers swooshing across the hardwood floor. It really was a beautiful floor. People paid good money back home to get the distressed look she had uncovered with a broom and some Murphy’s Oil Soap. The honey-colored pine glowed in the morning light, and it gave her energy to attack their project for the day: removing wallpaper from the master bedroom.
“What are you working on?” Mercedes asked Cat as she entered the family room.
Cat slammed her laptop shut. “Just checking my email.” She looked at the floor, the ceiling, and then finally made eye contact with Mercedes. “Still can’t get cell service out here, but Wi-Fi is loud and clear.”
Mercedes studied her sister. “Gotta love those satellites.”
“Yeah, where would we be without them?” Cat’s laugh was too high-pitched.
Mercedes shrugged. “Are you ready to go to town? We need to pick up some supplies.”
After the amazing food at the barbecue, both girls had slept deeply and woken up early the next day to drive to Billings to drop off the moving truck. While they were there, they’d stopped at the Home Depot and loaded up on cleaning supplies. They’d grabbed canned soup and enough take-out to last them through a couple of days, donned pink rubber gloves, and attacked the house. Today was meant to be another work day, but Mercy wasn’t going to get far on an empty stomach.
Cat hooked her hand behind her neck and asked, “What do you think about saving the kitchen remodel for last? We’re going to need it.”
“Fine with me. Those cabinets have a zillion screws. It’ll take forever to get them out.”
The drive into town was uneventful. Cat’s car bounced along the dirt road. “I’m going to need a new set of shocks before the summer is over,” she complained.
Snow Valley didn’t have a hardware store. Dove’s, the local grocery store, had a handyman’s aisle with items like washers and screws and such. For the bigger tools, tool rental, and other things, the girls learned the IFA was the place to go. Mainly a feed store, the IFA was located a few blocks off Main Street. Two trucks had backed up to the loading dock. Several men in Wranglers and cowboy hats stopped loading the pickups and smiled at the sisters.
Cat ducked her head and plowed toward the store’s entrance. It was common practice back home to keep your head down in certain areas of town. Men took any encouragement, even something as simple as making eye contact, as an open invitation to whistle or catcall after a woman.
But this wasn’t Boston.
Mercy waved and the men smiled or tipped their hats. She giggled.
“You shouldn’t encourage them,” Cat stage-whispered as she pulled open the front door.
“Lighten up. These are country boys. Their mammas raised them right.”
“No sir.”
“Ya huh.”
“Hello, ladies,” said one of the guys Mercy had just waved to. He was tall and thick. Not bad-looking, but kind of on the rough side. How he managed to beat them inside was a mystery.
“You were saying …” Cat gave Mercy a pointed look.
Mercy pressed her lips and wondered how to politely tell a man to get lost. She had a sinking suspicion that whatever reception she gave this guy would be broadcast throughout the store and spread to the whole town of Snow Valley before the end of the work day. She didn’t want people to think she and Cat were stuck up, or mean, but she didn’t want this guy to get the wrong idea.
Mercy decided a direct approach was best. “I need a bucket,” she announced.
He lifted his bushy eyebrows.
Her cheeks flamed. “I mean, can you tell me where I can find the buckets?”
Cat turned so only Mercedes could see her roll her eyes. “I’m going to find the outdoor garbage bags.”
“Okay,” agreed Mercy. She turned back to the cowboy who rubbed his palm across his ruddy cheek.
“I don’t work here.”
“Oh. Thanks anyway.” Mercedes lifted her shoulder and moved to walk away. That worked better than she thought it would.
He lifted his thick arm and called, “Hey, Tack, get over here and show us where the buckets are.”
Mercedes cringed at the “us” in his command. There’s no us!
“I’m coming, Sam.” A thin teenager slunk their way.
Mercedes didn’t like the tone Sam used to call Tack, but she didn’t want to say anything. For all she knew, they were related and that was just how things were in their family. The Bauers didn’t talk like that to each other, but Mercy had known plenty of families that did.
“Thanks,” she said, hoping to dismiss the guy as the gangly teen arrived. His name tag said “Tack,” and she wondered if it was short for anything.
“They’re right over here,” said Tack. He took her to the end of aisle three, where there were several five-gallon buckets in different colors.
To her horror, Sam followed her. The toe of his boot snagged the back of her shoe and it almost slipped off. Sheesh, this guy was persistent. Now that he’d attached himself, she wasn’t sure how to un-attach him.
“Do you need anything else?” asked Tack.
“I don’t think so, but I know who to ask if I do. Thanks.”
Tack gave her a smile and earned a shove from Sam as he passed.
Mercy scowled.
Sam didn’t take the hint. “You new in town or just passing through?”
“Visiting for a short time.” She emphasized the word short.
“If you’re only here for a short time—” He copied Mercy’s tone, making her jerk back in surprise. “—then you have to eat at Big C’s. Best burgers in town.”
Mercy pushed past him, keeping the bucket between her and Sam. “Thanks for the tip. We’ll try it out.”
Sam jumped in front of her and held up his hands. Mercy stopped, trapped. Behind her was a cinderblock wall and in front of her was a wall of eager cowboy. The only way out would be to scale one of the shelves and climb over. She wasn’t opposed to it if need be, but wanted to avoid knocking down the merchandise if possible.
“That advice doesn’t come free.” Sam grinned.
Mercedes shuddered. Sam’s smile was thin and he had a glint in his eye that said he was after more than a quarter pound of meat. Mercy hoped he intended to flirt and not threaten. Some guys were just backward, and she’d been hit on by enough stumbling men to know they did their best. However, the way her adrenaline spiked, she was ready to meet a threat and go down swinging if necessary.
“I’ll take you out for a Big C burger, but you have to buy me a shake.” Sam wiggled his thick eyebrows.
Mercy leaned back. Was that some sort of twisted pick-up line?
“Thanks, but …” She looked around for a good excuse and saw a familiar face walk past the aisle. “Chet!” she called.
He doubled back, a confused look on his face.
Mercy had a brilliant idea. She turned her attention back to Sam. “Chet is taking me and my sister to Big C’s—today.”
Sam rounded on Chet, and Chet took a step back. Mercedes winced. Sam was a good two inches taller than Chet and probably twenty pounds heavier. And he was put off. Not a good combination. She should have thought this through a little more. It was just that, when she thought of Chet, he was broad-shouldered and strong. And he was—just not as big as Sam, who had an uncanny resemblance
to Andre the Giant. Well, not really; but he was just as big. Or seemed like it.
Sam took a step toward Chet, and Mercedes’s random thoughts cut off. She dropped her bucket, ducked around Sam, and looped her arm through Chet’s leaning into him as if they were a couple. Her heart rate doubled.
Chet stared at her like she’d grown antlers.
Just go with it, she pleaded with her eyes. “Chet’s been super helpful. We’ve just loved getting to know him and spend time with his family.” She batted her eyelashes at Chet and wanted to kick herself for acting like an idiot. She prayed Chet would catch on and play his part.
Sam squinted down at the two of them, and Mercy was reminded of Robert, her boyfriend during her junior year of high school, who couldn’t take no for an answer. Even after she broke up with him, he left love notes in her locker and brought her anniversary gifts. Robert’s stalking behavior escalated to the point he’d demanded she go out with him “at least one last time.” Mercedes was scared to leave the house alone. Her father had a police officer return the framed photos of them together along with the letters and a detailed lecture on restraining orders. The harassment stopped, but the longing stares in the hallway didn’t. It wasn’t until Robert graduated and joined the military that Mercy finally felt safe. She couldn’t go through that again. She just couldn’t.
“I’m sure Chet wouldn’t mind if I tagged along,” drawled Sam.
Chet looked at Mercedes.
She didn’t know what to say, how to tell him that the last thing she wanted was to share a meal with this guy who was apparently as dense as he was tall.
Chet answered without taking his eyes off Mercy. “Ooooh, sorry, Sam. My truck only fits three.” Chet placed his hand on Mercedes’s back and guided her to the end of the aisle. “See ya later.” He waved as they turned the corner.
Cat waited by the cash register, a box of industrial garbage bags in one hand and her purse in the other. “Where’s the bucket?”
Mercedes looked down at her empty hands. Where was the bucket? She looked back at aisle three. There was no way she was going back in there.
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 14
