“No clue, darling boy, no clue. You are sly as a fox.” Judy’s boots echoed on the plank floor as she left the barn.
Chloe followed then turned on a dime. “You two go ahead. I have to show Maggie something.” She motioned for me to join her in the stall where she and Walter had been playing. “Check this out.”
We inspected the box that housed her injured crow, Frankie. He fluttered beneath the chicken wire structure.
“Justin says he’s about ready to fly,” Chloe said. “Another day or two and we can let him go. Isn’t that cool?”
“Sure is.” I knelt down to get a better look at the bird, His black eyes glistened, and he didn’t seem afraid when Chloe stuck her fingers through the holes to stroke his feathers. “I think Frankie likes you.”
“I think so too,” she whispered, touching my hand.
I wiped a dark smudge from her cheek. “I sure hope that was dirt.” I smelled my finger.
“That’s gross.” Her brow furrowed with disgust. “I know enough to stay away from the horse and cow poop around here. Stinky.”
My eyebrow shot up at her tone.
“Look, I can’t even stand Bones’ poop. What makes you think I’d get into the stuff around here?” She wrinkled her nose then pinched her nostrils shut. “Gross.”
I wiped my hand on my jeans and took another gander at Frankie. “I hope he makes it,” I said. Chloe stuck her pointer finger out and gestured for me to come closer to her. I leaned in and we were almost nose-to-nose. “What?”
“Last night when you were asleep, I got up and looked outside. There were millions of stars in the sky, so I made a wish that Frankie would be able to fly again.”
“Oh, is that so?” I said. “I thought maybe you’d like to keep him as a pet.”
Chloe scratched her head and scrunched up the bridge of her nose as if she hadn’t pondered that idea yet. “As much as I’d like that, it wouldn’t be fair to him. Sometimes you gotta let go, even if you don’t want to. That’s what my dad says.”
The corner of my lip curled to the sky. “Your dad’s a pretty smart man.” Strands of her messy dishwater-blonde hair tickled my cheek as I whispered in her ear.
“I think so, too, but let’s not tell him. It’s funner this way,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“I think you said you’d help Ashley comb the horses.” I smoothed hair away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. The side of her face was streaked with dust, and with the sun cascading through the window, shining all around her, she never looked so beautiful.
Chloe bumped the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Yeah, I do get a little sidetracked, don’t I?”
“We all do. I’ve been sidetracked for years.”
Chloe giggled. “See you later, Frankie,” she said, putting the homemade birdcage up on the bale of hay.
A spotted brown cat slunk around the corner of the stall and rubbed against my shins. Its nose twitched, its back arched like a witch’s cat on Halloween night, and its tail swayed like Vivaldi’s metronome keeping tempo to a Baroque concerto. “Is this one of your little buddies?” The feline stared up at me and meowed with disgust. It sat at Chloe’s feet. She was becoming the Pied Piper of barn cats.
“I haven’t seen this one. I wonder how many cats live here?” She dug a treat out of her pocket, knelt beside the kitty, and stroked its head. She inspected its belly and smiled up at me. “Dad taught me how to tell if it’s a girl or a boy. In case you’re wondering, it’s a girl. I like her spots. She looks like one of the painted horses.”
“She sure does.” My knees ached and begged for reprieve, so I knelt down beside Chloe. “Her spots remind me of cocoa.”
“Yum.” Chloe rubbed her stomach. Her brow wrinkled in thought then her lips curled upward. “And the word cocoa reminds me of that designer lady my mom likes. Remember when we went to Chicago and she bought that perfume in that gigantic store where all the ladies walked around wanting to spray us with stuff?”
“How could I forget her Coco Chanel perfume?” I said, scratching the kitty’s head although I preferred my four-legged bulldog back home. Chloe was just the opposite. She loved all creatures regardless.
Chloe rolled her eyes at me. “Yeah, boy did we stink after we left that place.” She took a deep breath. “This is the kind of smell I like.” She stood up, reached down, and picked up the cat. “Her belly sure is fat and bumpy.” She stroked the cat’s head. “Let’s name this one, Cocoa, the hot chocolate kind, ’cause I like that better than perfume.” She held the cat out in my direction. “Here, you can hold her.”
The cat squirmed and flailed as I tried to hold her close to me. Finally, her belly pressed up against mine.
John peeked into the barn.
“Meet Cocoa,” I said.
“Cocoa like hot chocolate, not Mom’s smelly perfume,” Chloe clarified in a husky tone. “She’s got a bumpy belly, Dad.”
John reached out for the cat. He held it close to him and felt her stomach. “She’s gonna have babies, Chloe.”
Chloe’s eyes lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July. She clapped her hands then scratched Cocoa’s head. “You’re gonna be a momma. When do you think the kittens will come, Daddy?”
“Not sure, half-pint, but we’ll know when they get here. This momma cat likes the barn. She usually comes around about this time of day for nap.” He pointed to the corner where Chloe and Walter played in the hay.
I crossed my arms in front of me and watched, amazed at Chloe’s charisma. John set the cat down on the ground. Cocoa trotted to the corner of the stall and curled up in the sun. Within seconds, her eyes were closed and she was purring like a well-oiled machine.
Chloe sat on the bale of hay next to Frankie’s cage. “Cocoa’s gonna be a mom. That’s so neat. Maybe that’s why she’s so tired.”
“Probably.” I thought back to the days I carried Bradley and the sleepless nights of colic and feedings. “Um, do you think Ashley is waiting for you?”
“Oh my gosh, I almost forgot. Good thing you’re here, Maggie.”
“Yeah, you’re like a chicken with its head cut off,” I said, exiting the stall.
“You sound like Glad. I sure do miss that woman.” Chloe grabbed my hand and led me over to the horses being groomed by Ashley and Justin.
“Me, too,” I said. “Maybe we should call her tonight.”
Chapter 7
With a belly full of s’mores, I sat with my back against the heavy headboard with my eyes shut, reminiscing the day as I listened to Chloe talk to my mom on the phone. She lay on her bed, knee bent, one foot crossed over, and one hand behind her head.
Chloe told Mom all about the cats and Frankie, the injured crow. She told Mom about our dinner with Ashley, how Harry stared at her the whole time, and how he was being a dumb boy.
When I glanced over, Chloe’s dishwater-blonde hair was fanned out around her head on her pillow. She giggled into the phone and told Mom she missed her. I missed her, too, but I knew she’d be there waiting for me when I got home.
“Yeah, she’s right here, Glad. Just a sec.” Chloe held the phone out in my direction.
I got off my bed and took it from her. “Hi, Mom,” I said. “How are you? Is Bones doing okay? He dug a hole in the backyard. Figures.”
Chloe stretched out on her side with her hands tucked under her head. Her bright eyes faded like the distant sun. Her eyelids fluttered, and I hoped she’d dream about her new friend, Cocoa.
“Yes, Mom. We’ll call again. Give Bones a hug and a kiss for me.”
“For me, too,” Chloe said with a big yawn.
I clicked off the hand held receiver, set it on the nightstand, and gazed over at Chloe. The lack of service to my cell phone was not a hardship. In fact, it was kind of nice not receiving text, updates, and messages from the carrier about usage or upcoming deals. “You about ready to turn off the light?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m tired.” Chloe yawne
d again then tugged the sheet up to her chin. Her eyes flitted beneath her eyelids as if they were searching for the perfect dream. “I’m glad we called Glad.” Chloe kicked at the covers. “I sure do love that lady. You are so lucky to have a mom like that.” She scrunched up into a fetal position and stopped fidgeting.
“Definitely,” I said, shutting off the lamp.
Dusky hues filtered between the slats of the shades. I tiptoed over to Chloe’s bed to tuck her in. Brook nagged at the back of my mind. I smoothed Chloe’s hair back from her face, kissed my pointer finger, and then touched her freckled cheek.
I glanced toward the door as the knob turned. Walter’s hair preceded his entry. I smiled at him then motioned for him to come in. He crept over to the bed, and in the tiniest of whispers, said goodnight and kissed Chloe on the cheek.
She half-smiled. “Goodnight, see you in the morning. I’m sure we haven’t found all the cats.”
Walter grinned, his baby teeth perfectly straight with a tiny gap between his top incisors. He motioned for me to follow him into the hallway, so I did. I latched the door behind me, trying to avoid a disturbance. His brown eyes twinkled in the dim light.
“I like your Spiderman pajamas.”
He held out his arms and showed me the fabric webbing below his armpits. “Thanks.” He tapped his chin with his pointer finger. “I was supposed to tell you something, but now I can’t remember.” His dark curls bounced up and down as he scratched his head.
“It’s okay. I’ll just go ask your mom.”
John came up the stairs, treading lightly in his socks.
“Okay,” Walter said, heading back to his room. “Moms and Dads shouldn’t ask us kids to remember too much stuff. Don’t they know we have other things on our mind?” he said, shaking his curly mop-top.
John’s smile was the perfect ending to the perfect day.
“I’d shoot you a text, but that doesn’t always work here. Thought you might like to come down and have a beer with me.”
“Sounds good. Don’t know how much longer I’ll last though. I’m pretty tired.”
John leaned closer to me. “I just think you’re pretty.” He kissed the side of my head. “Let me check on Chloe and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“See you in a few.” Ignoring the fact that his lips were just on my right temple, I pretended like it was everyday business to share such pleasantries. Poking my head into Judy’s room, Harry was already asleep, and Walter was curled up next to Judy like a sleeping cat holding a comic book between its paws. Judy peered over the rim of her glasses.
I shook my head apologetically. “Walter couldn’t remember the message so I’m here in person. Didn’t mean to bug you.”
Judy lowered her book and held the page with her finger. “I just wanted you to know that I’m in for the night. I’m beat. We’ll see you guys in the morning.”
“Sleep tight.” I closed the door then padded down the stairs carefully as not to awaken sleeping children. It’d been quite a day with horseback riding, meeting the animals, and learning to fly-fish. I held the thick pine banister and gazed around the great room with its high ceilings, heavy furniture, and Montana charm.
“It wasn’t always like this,” John whispered in my ear. “The house I grew up in is down the way. Trout lives there now. Dad built this a few years back when he started making money. It’s not as big as some of the other places around here, but he’s proud of it. We all are.”
John stepped down from the last stair and stood next to me.
“It’s beautiful. He’s worked hard.” I thought about my job back home and couldn’t correlate the two worlds if I tried.
John took my hand and led me to the kitchen.
“How’d the ranch get its name?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
John smiled. “Dad chose the name. Thought the number 617 might make my mom love it even more.” He popped the top of a Beltian White and handed it to me. “Try this. I think you’ll like it.”
“So what’s 617 stand for?” I pictured the sign hanging from the timbers that marked the drive when we pulled in. 617 was painted in black block numbers just above the word ranch that was written in matching capital letters.
“They were married on June seventeenth.”
“The 617 Ranch,” I said, liking how it sounded. “I thought maybe it was the number of cattle they had or the number of children your mom wanted to get even with your dad at some point in this venture.” I sipped at my beer.
John popped the top to his beer and took a healthy swig. “How about we get a couple more of these and go sit by the fire? I think it’s still going. Trout and Dad were out there last time I checked.”
“I should get my jacket.” I set my beer on the counter.
“There’s an extra flannel hanging by the back door.” John opened the fridge and placed four cans of beer in a fabric cooler on the counter. “Need chocolate?”
Picking up my beer, I took a long drink. “Good idea,” I said, packing leftover Hersey Bars in with the beer.
The mudroom smelled like leather and hay. I slid on my boots, and John helped me into a flannel jacket that hung on a silver hook.
“Thanks,” I said. His closeness stirred my feelings like a poker to glowing embers. The green plaid collar brushed against my cheek. It smelled like John and I liked having his scent wrapped around me.
John wiggled into his boots, put on his jacket, and held the door for me. I stepped outside and stared into the sky. “Don’t see this many stars in Grosse Pointe,” he said beneath his breath. “Not sure why I ever left this place. Young and stupid I suppose. Guess I learned the hard way about following my own dreams.”
“We all do.” Beckett scratched at the corner of my mind. “When you’re young, it’s easy to get lost.”
White lights twinkled overhead in the big sky that reached down around us. We were wrapped in a blanket of constellations. John took my hand in his. Holding tight, I searched the heavens for an answer written in the stars.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I said. “There are stars in-between the stars. There must be a bazillion of them. Think about how many wishes that could be.”
“You sound like Chloe,” he said, taking the cooler from me. “Watch your step.” He flashed a light at my feet. “I’m not ashamed to admit … I make a wish every night.” His eyes flickered just as brightly as the stars overhead.
Emotion singed the edges of my heart. “Let’s go see about that fire.”
“That’s just like you.”
“What?” The heels of my boots clicked as I meandered along the wooden planked walkway that led away from the house, past the creek, and to the fire pit.
“You think if you avoid something that makes you uncomfortable, it’ll just go away.” John’s light ricocheted from left to right with his stride.
“No, I don’t,” I said, glancing over to him, his eyes intense in the dark night. I sipped my beer and raked my hand through my messy waves.
“Yes, you do. It took you forever to even talk about the night we slept together.”
My beer went down the wrong way, causing me to hack. I choked back the erupting coughing fit while John patted me on the back.
“Breathe. You’ll be okay, Maggie.”
I took a sip of my beer, swallowed, and then cleared my throat. When I recomposed myself, I stood nose-to-nose with John. “Why do you do that?” I asked with conviction, sure that he understood his perfect timing to pick on me. His smug expression irritated me even more. His eyes held a secret, one that I’d only find out with time, or maybe never at all. “Seriously?” I drew my jacket shut to block the chill wafting through the night air.
“It’s a gift,” he answered with a tilt of his head.
I shook my head at him. “I’m not the only one that sounds like Chloe tonight. “Good grief.”
“Good grief is right.” John paused. “It’s not a bad thing that we grew close. It’s not a
bad thing that just maybe we have something that could go somewhere. What’s so bad about investigating our feelings, anyway?” He finished his beer and stuffed the empty can into the cooler.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said.
“I bet you don’t.” He inched closer, his gaze fixated on mine.
He was right. I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to let him win. I pinched my mouth shut. Damn you. John’s lips grazed my cheek, his breath hot on my neck like his fiery touch had been so many nights ago. I closed my eyes and clenched my fist. The almost empty beer can crinkled with the pressure.
“Has it whispered to you yet?” he asked. “Because once it has burrowed its silent voice into your heart, there’s no love greater than the one hidden in the mountains under the fields of wildflowers. And if you find a rosebush, it’s extra special. The treasure just may be golden.”
With a deep breath, I swallowed his words. What called to me was more than a whisper. I held his wicked stare.
“Back in the day, it was said that miners used to plant a rosebush close to the place where they struck gold. When I’m out riding, I hunt for them, but I know where my treasure really lies.” John turned off the flashlight.
My voice quivered as I spoke. “That’s the thing. You are so sure and I hear other callings.”
“They aren’t callings, Maggie, they’re unfinished tasks that you feel obligated to complete.”
His hand grazed mine. His warm touch ignited veins of truth. “I suppose that makes me weak,” I said.
John wrapped his fingers around my hand. “No. That makes you human.”
I squeezed his hand.
“You’ll find the way,” he said.
I teetered on the balls of my feet. My cheek brushed against his stubbly chin. “I wish I was as sure as you are.”
Moonlight reflected in his green eyes. Huge clouds drifted in the night sky, his face lit by more than Mother Nature.
“A little faith goes a long way.” His words were drawn out, his tone deep and seductive.
This John McIntyre was different from the one who lived next door to me back in Grosse Pointe, and I wasn’t so sure how long I could beat him away, no matter the size, nor the number of invisible sticks I possessed.
Maggie's Montana (Montana Bound Book 3) Page 5
