Lost Trails

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  Zander nodded politely. He’d up and left his own ranch on the east side of Montana to take the job at Bella Acres. Silver Spoons Ranch had more than a hundred hands working under his main foreman and Zander was taking a huge gamble by being gone six weeks like he planned.

  Six weeks should be plenty of time to fall in love. He hoped. He’d never been in love, but judging by the stories Nathan told, the Montana Trails cousins were worth falling in love for.

  Not that he would fall for the entire group of cousins. He had his mind set on one – the last one.

  Hannah Rourke.

  Drake shoved off the side of the barn he leaned against and nodded with a satisfied smile at the group of men around him. With a new summer upon them, Drake had hired a fresh batch of hands and Zander had been lucky enough to get in on the ground floor. Unfortunately, he wasn’t too well-versed in hand work, but he was a hard worker and an easy learner.

  He wasn’t worried about the work. He was a little nervous about taking orders. That wasn’t something someone like him did comfortably.

  “You guys are in for a treat. My sister-in-law and my own wife are cooking for you tonight. They’re better than any high-ranked restaurant. Cookie will be back in a couple days.” He nodded his head toward the men and turned to gather some rope at the base of the barn wall.

  His wife was Stefanie. Was Drake talking about Hannah, too?

  Disconcerted by the sudden increase in his pulse rate, Zander sought for a more nonchalant tone than the one of a lovesick kid – who had never actually met the woman he was supposed to love. “What are their names? I want to be able to thank them.” Did Drake sense his nervousness?

  Zander bent over and brushed off imaginary straw from the toe of his boot. He stood, his face now flushed from bending and not from the question.

  “Hannah is my sister-in-law and Stefanie is my wife. They’ll be down later and thank you for wanting to express gratitude. I’m in their debt for taking on this task. They’re busy enough as it is.” Drake looped the rope around his elbow and his hand then tossed the bulk of it over his shoulder. He set out toward the front of the barn and the house, calling over his shoulder. “Get settled, men. Tomorrow we’ll roughen up this ranch and get some things done. Welcome to Bella Acres.”

  Zander avoided the group camaraderie which was already forming in the six other men. He’d hired one of them a few seasons back and he hadn’t been fond of the man then. The ranch hand had been drunk most of the time. A glazed look in his eyes when he glanced at Zander explained the lack of recognition. He probably thought Zander was familiar but wasn’t sure how.

  Hopefully, his drinking habits had stopped, but Zander wouldn’t count on it.

  Zander stepped to the side as the men passed by him, laughing and talking amongst themselves as they headed toward the bunkhouse. After the men had left, Zander leaned against the newly painted red side of the barn and took a deep breath.

  Spring and early summer had left Montana smelling like a fresh pine potpourri bag as the occasional rain storm kept things smelling clean. Greenery was more abundant on the western side of the state, but Zander still missed the plains of his hometown and the way the sky stretched for miles before the ground broke it up.

  He checked one more time for any passersby or onlookers and then pulled out a picture of a family he’d stashed in his wallet. The family was large and the picture incomplete. Nathan had said many of the cousins in the picture had since gotten married or found their significant others. He’d glanced fondly at it while he’d been sitting at the bar by himself.

  Would Zander be able to recognize Hannah from the young girl she’d been in the picture? Not for the first time, he brushed his thumb over her features in the photo. Had she met someone already? Had she lost her heart to another man?

  Nathan hadn’t talked to the family in a long while, but he kept tabs on the cousins with various contacts he had around the state. The oldest Trail had described Hannah and the family so often and so acutely, Zander couldn’t be more enamored with them and the entire ideal around the Montana Trails. He felt like he knew them, like they were his family, his cousins. He wanted that sense of belonging that Nathan had abandoned when he’d lost everything.

  Hannah was going to be the only chance Zander had at joining the family. At the risk of sounding like an obsessed stalker, he couldn’t help longing for something so basic yet so valuable.

  Did Hannah know they were already in love?

  Chapter 3

  Hannah

  The kitchen at the house was Hannah’s favorite place to cook, but she wouldn’t turn down the chance to work in the commercial grade kitchen Drake had put in the remodeled barn and outbuilding. Her favorite part was probably the stainless-steel counters. She’d heard that all of the restaurants had them, but she’d only been to a few over the years. Taylor Falls wasn’t exactly the best place to go for dining out experiences.

  Wiping her hands on the white cloth she’d tucked in her apron, Hannah thrust her hands on her hips to survey the kitchen and get things figured out in her head.

  She’d taken away the lure of temptation of opening the envelope by tucking it into the top drawer of her nightstand in her room. What if it said yes? What if she was going to be a chef and not just someone who cooked really well?

  Her dreams spread before her with so many possibilities that nothing felt like work.

  Drake had taken the new hands for a tour of the property earlier and then must have dismissed them because the sound of boots moving across the floors above her had grown into a cacophony of dragging and stomping. Drake would have to insulate the space between the two floors better. The noise was distracting.

  She’d gone with chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy for the main part of the meal. A fresh cucumber and onion salad and homemade rolls would round out the dinner. The men wouldn’t care if she served rice and chili but she cared. Serving amazing food was something she took pride in. Even if no one else cared.

  Stefanie had actually been a huge help and she’d run back to the house to grab the stack of multiple serving spoons Hannah had just bought on her last trip to town.

  Hannah sniffed the rich aromas filling the kitchen. Yep, everything smelled ready. Except the rolls, they needed about five more minutes before she pulled them out to rest before applying a coat of melted butter to the tops.

  She turned and strode outside onto the north-facing deck Drake had added for outdoor eating in the summer. The shade from the building gave ample space for comfort outside and Drake had covered the area in case of inclement weather. Rain didn’t always cool things down in the Montana summer heat. Nothing anyone did would warm things up once the snow flew.

  A large metal triangle hung from the eave of the overhang. Ringing the bell was her favorite part. She loved what it signified – dinner was on and it was time to eat what she’d spent all her time doing.

  Not to mention the fact that it was also like a finishing bell. She’d been working on the meal for a couple hours and the bell ringing said she was done cooking. She loved cooking but she was still exhausted after the hard work.

  She turned back to the kitchen, rolling her head on her shoulders and tucking some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

  “That sure smells good, ma’am.” A cowboy with green eyes and tanned skin stood in her path leading back to the kitchen. He had his thumbs tucked into the tops of jean pockets that looked custom fit to his form – and what a form.

  The white top of an undershirt peaked out from the opening of his collar as he’d left a couple buttons undone.

  Each batch of cowhands brought their own lothario and this one, with his swarthy good looks and direct way of looking at a person was going to be the most persuasive one yet.

  There was like a goal out there from the universe to make her dreams hard to achieve. If she was entranced with a cowboy’s good looks, she’d never want to leave Bella Acres. This one’s tone of voice sent a sensation down her
like the one you got when you took a bite of a really decadent piece of chocolate.

  She shifted her gaze away from him and smiled tightly. “Thank you. It’s about time to eat, if you want to wash up.” She kept her tone light with politeness but forced indifference into her words. There was no way she was going to encourage any interest from anyone.

  Not while she had an envelope with her dreams in it inside the house.

  Hang the man for being so good-looking, though. Five o-clock shadow darkened the angles of his jawline and enhanced the straight shape of his nose and the intensity of his gaze. He had the slightest bump on the bridge between his eyes which only made him more interesting instead of marring his looks. Broad shoulders didn’t hide the rolling edges of muscles under the well-fitted shirts. Strong neck muscles flexed as he inclined his head and she’d be a stray dog’s aunt if she missed the shape of his hands with well-maintained fingernails.

  How out of place on a cowboy.

  Wait, why was she noticing things like that? She wasn’t interested in cowboys that moved from ranch to ranch. She knew how they thought and their goals. She was related to quite a few who used to be like that. True, they’d settled down when they’d found the right one and would probably live disgustingly, happily-ever-after. But that was beside the point since Hannah wasn’t them and her fairytale ending was wrapped up in making herself happy and not counting on anyone to do it for her.

  She didn’t want to settle down, not yet. She had too many dreams. And even if she did want to, there wasn’t a ranch hand in the entire state of Montana that was in the position to offer her a happy-ever-after worth trading everything for. No, she wanted too much, needed too much.

  “I already washed up, ma’am. Is there anything I can do to help?” He arched an eyebrow at her and waited on the other side of the counter as she walked into the inner depths of the kitchen.

  Was that a pine and spice men’s cologne he wore? Whatever it was, the aroma was rich and heady while being subtly present. It didn’t overwhelm the smell of the rolls baking or the chicken. His scent mingled nicely in the kitchen setting and Hannah found herself wanting to walk beside him to catch another waft.

  Yeah, real strong, Hannah. She sighed, disappointed that she couldn’t even stick with her resolve when a man like that ranch hand walked by.

  She turned toward him, hands on her hips and her forehead furrowed. “If you really want to help? I’d appreciate it if you could fill those watcher pitchers over there with ice from the box and then water and cut lemons from the sink.” She grabbed a bright red folded hand towel and pulled the rolls from the oven, placing them on the gas range-style stovetop to cool. Turning off the oven, she closed the door and set the towel on the counter. She moved to grab plates and silverware to take them to the buffet-style table set up on the far side of the room beside the door to the deck.

  The cowboy grabbed the pitchers as instructed and busily filled them at the left sink of the trio set in the stainless-steel counter.

  Hannah was more aware of where he was then what she was doing.

  They worked congenially together in the quiet and Hannah almost forgot he was there – almost forgot was as close as she was going to get to be able to ignore his presence. There was something about him that continued to draw her gaze and it wasn’t just the bunching and flexing muscles of his back and exposed forearms under rolled-up sleeves.

  He finished filling the pitchers and placed them on the table beside the cups. Turning back to her, he clapped his hands together and looked around, as if searching for someone else. “Okay, that’s done. What else can I do for you?” The look in his eyes bordered suggestive but in more of a testing-the-waters way.

  He approached Hannah, the curve of his smile unnerving as she tried to move around him to put the gravy warming dish on the table. The cowboy sidestepped to stay in front of her and cautiously claimed the dish from her hands, holding her gaze the entire time.

  She let him take the pot and watched as he placed it by the ladle she’d placed out while setting the table for sizing. How had he known where it went? Not that it was hard to figure out, but he’d put it right where it went instead of just placing it on the end of the table where most men would’ve done.

  His proximity had stunned her enough she didn’t move from her spot while he set things up. He turned back to Hannah, a devilish grin on his face.

  As he approached, Hannah put up a hand to stop his advance. “That’s far enough, Don Juan.”

  He knitted his eyebrows together, his grin unwavering. “That’s’ not my –”

  Hannah shook her head, stepping back for more distance. “Nope, I don’t care what your name is. I’m just being blunt here. I’m not interested.” She didn’t share that she didn’t date ranch hands or that there was a conflict of interests. Not to mention with how high the turnaround rate was in the industry, falling for a ranch hand wasn’t smart for her heart or her emotional stability. He’d be long gone and she still be figuring out what was going on.

  He continued approaching her, as if her words hadn’t meant anything. But once he reached her, he smiled softly, the flirting greatly dimmed in his gaze. “I’m sorry. I just want to help. I’m not proposing marriage or trying to be inappropriate given the circumstances.” He stuck out his hand and smiled. “I’m Zander. Not Don Juan. I’m far from it.” He laughed at himself with derision but soft humor as well.

  Eyeing him suspiciously, Hannah narrowed her gaze. “I’m not playing. I’m not interested. I’m not available.”

  An almost hurt but determined look filled Zander’s gaze. He nodded tightly, but didn’t let his grin dim. “Of course.”

  With his easy acquiescence, Hannah had the distinct feeling it wasn’t over and she had no idea why that left a sensation of anticipation in her gut – and not in a bad way.

  Chapter 4

  Zander

  The woman never did introduce herself, but that didn’t stop Zander from trying to be friendly. At first, he’d thought for sure she was Hannah. She was young and there was no ring on her finger, but the more they’d talked and the boldness in her rejection convinced him there was no way that woman was Hannah. She’d even claimed to be unavailable. Probably because she was married to Drake and he was hitting on the boss’s wife.

  Nathan had described his youngest sister as shy and demure. He said she was a hard worker but not a leader and certainly not someone to bluntly reject someone who hadn’t even made any advances. Nathan had shared a lot about his family and with small questions placed here and there by Zander, Nathan didn’t stop talking. Zander had remembered everything and then some.

  Zander had given the woman the impression he was interested without even trying. But he couldn’t deny her attractiveness. Honestly, Zander had no doubt a woman with her looks and personality – what he’d glimpsed so far – would be married quickly.

  Assuming she was Drake’s wife – Stefanie – wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to. Nathan had described Stefanie as anything but shy and all kinds of bold. He’d even said that as much as he disliked Drake – who happened to be the brother of Nathan’s deceased wife, Emma – he didn’t wish the trouble a woman like Stefanie would bring a man. He’d relayed all that with a large brotherly grin on his face. Nathan had only been two drinks in during that conversation.

  At least this one had the decency to have a flush creep up her cheeks at Zander’s words. He didn’t want to be too off-setting. Stefanie was going to be his sister-in-law someday. She just didn’t know it.

  “I grabbed the new serving spoons, but I couldn’t find the tongs. Did you grab them by chance?” Another woman walked into the kitchen, her similar coloring marking her as the other woman – the sister.

  She had to be Hannah.

  Zander couldn’t hide his disappointment for a brief second and then covered it with a smile. The new sister who had walked in was certainly beautiful, but she didn’t warm his insides like the first one.

  But he
refused to be attracted to a married woman. He couldn’t help but think how grossly uncomfortable holidays would be with the family, if he was thinking of the way the sister-in-law smelled like cookies.

  Desperate to be attracted to the sister he was there for, Zander smiled and turned fully toward her. He reached out to take the armful of spoons still in their wrappers. “Here, let me help. That looks like a lot.”

  She shot a startled glance at his face and then past him to the other woman. Zander could almost see her guard go up – exactly what he would expect of someone who was supposed to be shy.

  “Thank you.” Her reserved answer broadened his grin while sinking his heart. He didn’t want to be right. He wanted the first one, but the second one was going to be the woman he had to win over.

  Why did the last sister have to be quiet and not so open? Zander would have to learn to like that. He’d thought he’d been ready for that type of personality, but the glimpse of the other sister’s attitude made him rethinking his desires.

  He followed the woman he thought was Hannah to the side table with a garbage beside it. “How did a pretty thing like you, get stuck doing this?” He turned on the charm and leaned on the table while he watched her. Zander put everything into his efforts not to check on the other sister.

  Oh, he was in for a long courtship.

  The woman’s disinterest marked her as Hannah. The first one had announced her disinterest, but she’d been bold and honest about it. The second one was giving off her disinterest in waves and had nothing to do with actively engaging him verbally.

  “Can I ask why you’re hitting on my wife?” Drake strolled into the kitchen, an amused glint in the hard challenge of his gaze.