Their Ranch Reunion

by Mindy Obenhaus

  His stomach chose that moment to rumble.

  Carly grinned, reaching for the old-fashioned thermos she must have found hidden away at his grandmother’s. “It’s in the bag whenever you’re ready.” She removed the lid, which functioned as a cup, and poured in the hot, steaming liquid. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” His fingers brushed hers as he took hold of the cup. Their gazes collided, triggering the strangest sensation. Something akin to an electrical jolt. And judging by the way Carly quickly pulled away, her cheeks pink, he guessed she’d felt it, too.

  He took a bite of his sandwich, chalking the whole thing up to static electricity.

  Looking at everything in the room except him, she picked up her sandwich, peeled back the foil and took a dainty bite.

  “I’ll be starting on the electrical shortly,” he said between bites. “If everything goes according to plan, drywall should be going up by the end of the week.” He was rambling when he needed to shut up and eat.

  “What about windows?” Setting her sandwich on the work table, she pointed to the boarded-over spaces where the windows and the back door once were.

  “Thanks for the reminder. I was going to ask if you wanted to stick with the same size windows or, in the case of the one over here—” he moved to where he’d once suggested they put the sink “—would you like to go with something bigger?”

  “Wouldn’t bigger look out of place with the rest of the house?”

  “Yes. So rather than go bigger with the actual window, we would simply add another window or even a third, like they did in other parts of the house.”

  “But what about the inside? The casings and such?”

  “Not to worry. I spoke to Jude about it when we were doing the demo, and he said he could easily duplicate what’s there now so everything would be seamless.” When not on duty, his policeman brother was an extremely talented woodworker.

  Carly didn’t respond. Merely roamed the space, one arm crossed over her midsection, her other elbow resting on it as she tapped a finger to her lips. A stance that meant she was thinking about something. And usually spelled trouble for him. Was it the window she was thinking about or something more?

  “I don’t know about having the sink on the island. I mean, it’s always been over here.” She gestured to the wall behind her.

  “Facing a blank wall.” Sandwich in hand, he stepped closer. “Now you’ll be able to see your entire kitchen when you’re at the sink. Not to mention into the family room. You’ll be able to see Megan.”

  “True. But I’m not sure how I feel about having the refrigerator at the far end of that counter. I’m used to having it closer to the dining room.”

  “It’s not that much farther. And remember, you’ve got a bigger island now.” Wadding up the foil from his first sandwich, he moved beside her. “It’s a little late to start second-guessing things, Carly. The cabinets are already on order.”

  “Yes, but better to make changes now than later.”

  Why did she have to make any changes at all? “I thought you liked the new design.” She was so excited when she saw the mock-up on the computer.

  “I do. But it’s so...different.” She started pacing again. “What if I don’t like it?”

  “Look, I know you’re afraid of change, but believe me, change can be good.”

  She whirled toward him then. And if looks could kill... “I am not afraid of change. But we’re talking about a lot of money here, and I want to make sure I get things right.”

  “Whoa, easy.” Holding his hands up, he took a step back. Why was she suddenly so defensive? “I’m not trying to cause any trouble.”

  His ringtone sounded from his jeans pocket.

  He tugged out the phone and looked at the screen. His attorney. “Excuse me.” He turned away. “Hey, Ned.”

  “I’ve got the latest numbers for Magnum Custom Home Builders.”

  Just what he’d been waiting for. “And?”

  “Looks good. Matter of fact, real good.”

  “Gross profit?”

  “Seven figures.”

  “Impressive.” He glanced behind him to find Carly still wandering. “What kind of debt are we looking at?”

  Ned rattled off the numbers.

  “Not bad. Any property for future development?”

  “Yes, though I don’t have the details.”

  This time when he turned, he found Carly glaring at him. “Hey, I need to go, Ned. I’ll touch base with you later.” He ended the call and drank the last of his soup before approaching Carly. “Now, where were we?”

  Arms crossed over her chest, nostrils flared, she said, “Everything is about money with you, isn’t it?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m purchasing a new business.”

  “Even back in high school, you were consumed with money.”

  “Yeah, so I could help my parents. You know better than anyone how they struggled to make ends meet.”

  “So you say.”

  He wasn’t sure what had gotten under her skin, but she sure seemed eager to push his buttons.

  He took a step closer until they were toe to toe. “Noah and I worked ourselves to death. Yet it wasn’t enough. So forgive me if I refuse to struggle like my parents did.” He turned away then, trying to ignore the pain and regret welling inside him.

  “Funny, I never heard your parents complain. And why would they? I mean, five sons, a thriving ranch... Sounds to me like your folks had a pretty good life.”

  He jerked back around. “Then why did my mother die so young?”

  Chapter Eight

  Gray skies and freezing temperatures were the perfect match for Carly’s mood. Standing outside Ouray’s one and only school, she burrowed her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat, trying to get warm while she waited for Megan. More than three hours after she stormed out on Andrew, she still felt like a heel. She’d foolishly lashed out at him after he accused her of being afraid of change. He had no idea that those words would haunt her to her grave. That those same words were the reason she lost her husband.

  She huffed out a breath and watched as it hung in the air. Somehow she had to make things right. Because the anguish on Andrew’s face when he mentioned his mother still gnawed at her. She’d wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt her. Apparently she’d succeeded. Now she was wrestling with herself, trying to come up with some way to make up for being so callous.

  “It’s f-f-freezing,” said Megan several minutes later on their walk home.

  “I told you it was going to get cold. But no...you refused to listen to your old mother and chose to wear your spring jacket.”

  Megan giggled. “Come on, Mom. You’re not old.”

  Did the kid know how to get on her good side or what? “Well in that case—” she wrapped an arm around her daughter “—I’ve got some hot cocoa for you when we get home.”

  “What are you waiting for, then?” Megan took off running. “Come on.”

  When they reached Livie’s house, Andrew was loading his truck. After a quick glance their way, he turned and stalked up the front steps and into Carly’s house, shoulders slumped, looking every bit as miserable as he had when she left him.

  She patted Megan on the shoulder. “You go on in. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “What about the cocoa?”

  “It’s in the pan on the stove.”

  Megan’s eyes widened. “Mom, you didn’t—”

  “No, I didn’t leave the stove on. Pour some into a mug and then heat it in the microwave for a minute and a half.”

  “One, three, zero?”

  “You got it.”

  Her daughter darted toward the house.

  “There are some cookies on the counter, too.”
r />   A smiling Megan shot her a thumbs-up as she pushed through the door.

  Carly tugged at the crocheted scarf around her neck and started next door as Andrew emerged from Granger House, carrying his toolbox. “How’s it going?”

  He shrugged. “Wiring’s done.”

  “Sounds like progress.” She shuffled her feet, waiting for him to respond, but he didn’t. So much for small talk.

  What do you expect after the way you went after him?

  She moved to the far side of the truck where he stood, arms resting on the side of the pickup bed. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I had no right to attack you like that.”

  He looked at her now, pain still evident in his dark eyes. “So, why did you?”

  She swallowed hard. She couldn’t tell him about Dennis. That she was the reason he was dead. Hands shoved in her pockets, she toed at the gravel in the drive. “Stress, I guess.”

  He nodded. “I can understand that.”

  He could?

  “I know I can’t take back what I said, but I’d like to make a peace offering in the form of dinner.”

  He lifted his head to stare at the darkening clouds. “I’m not really in the mood—”

  “I brought you some hot cocoa, Andrew.”

  They turned to see Megan moving ever so slowly toward them, now wearing her winter coat, a steaming mug cradled in her mitten-covered hands.

  He whisked past Carly to her daughter and took hold of the cup. “I was just thinking how nice it would be to have a hot cup of cocoa. How did you know?”

  Megan’s smile grew bigger by the second. “I don’t know. I just did.”

  He took a sip. “Mmm...this is really good.”

  “My mommy makes the best cocoa. She says it’s a secret recipe.”

  Carly felt herself blushing when he glanced at her.

  “I was just asking Andrew if he’d like to join us for dinner.” She knew she was playing dirty, basically suggesting her daughter help coerce him, but she couldn’t help herself.

  True to form, Megan bounced up and down, hands clasped together. “Oh, please say yes. I want to play cards again.”

  Carly had been grateful, if not a little surprised, when Andrew presented Megan with a new deck the day after the fire. Megan had told her he said he would, yet Carly still doubted. The gesture had taught her that, among other things, Andrew was a man of his word.

  He looked at Carly for a moment as though weighing his options. Or trying to come up with a way out. Finally he met Megan’s gaze. “What time should I be here?”

  Carly was glad he accepted her invitation. However, when he showed up at Livie’s shortly after six, as opposed to the six thirty she’d suggested, she could have kicked herself for allowing Megan to go to a friend’s. Because if she knew her daughter, she’d be home precisely at six thirty and not a minute before. Leaving Carly alone with Andrew until then.

  “Make yourself at home,” she tossed over her shoulder on her way back through Livie’s parlor after answering the door. Her steps slowed as she approached the kitchen, though. This was his home. Half of it, anyway. Seemed her thoughts of a buyout and renovations had taken a backseat since the fire. Still, that didn’t mean she was ready to give up on her dream.

  Standing at the avocado-green stove, her back to him, she could feel him watching her. Normally being alone with him wouldn’t have been a big deal. They’d actually been getting along quite well. But after putting her foot in it this afternoon...

  “So, you’re buying another business?” She turned.

  He stood at the end of the peninsula, making an otherwise bland brown flannel shirt look incredible. “Yes. A custom home builder.”

  She retrieved three plates and three bowls from the cupboard, feeling like an even bigger jerk for tearing into him. “I imagine you’re grateful to have some time off, then.” She breezed past him on her way to the table. “You know what they say about all work and no pla—”

  One of the so-called unbreakable plates slipped from her hand then, crashing to the floor and shattering into a million tiny pieces.

  Gasping, she slowly set the remaining dishes onto the table and stared at the shards splayed across the gold-and-brown vinyl floor, all around her socked feet.

  “Don’t move.” Andrew was beside her in a flash. “Are you okay? You’re not cut, are you?”

  She shook her head, still shocked. That plate had virtually exploded. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good.” He studied the mess. “Let’s try to keep it that way.”

  She sent him a curious glance. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Only one thing I can think of.” With that, he scooped her into his arms and started into the living room, the pieces of glass grinding beneath his work boots.

  “Really? This is your only solution?” Resting one hand against his chest, she could feel his muscles. “You couldn’t have simply swept up the stuff around me?”

  His grin was a mischievous one. “Why would I do that when this is so much more fun?”

  “Fun for you, maybe. For me, it’s just—” Torture was the only word that came to mind. Being in Andrew’s arms felt so...good.

  “Just what?” In the parlor, he had yet to put her down.

  “I—I...”

  His playful smile morphed into something different. More intense. His gaze probed hers, questioning. As if...

  Her gaze drifted to his lips, though she quickly jerked them back to his eyes. The corners of his mouth tilted upward as if he knew what she was thinking.

  The front door burst open. “It’s snowing!”

  They turned to see a stunned Megan.

  Andrew quickly set Carly’s feet on the hardwood floor.

  Carly smoothed a hand over her sweater. Lost in Andrew’s embrace, she’d forgotten all about the time.

  A quick glance at Andrew revealed how red his face was. And if the heat in her own cheeks was any indication, she was just as crimson.

  Megan’s eyes narrowed for a second before she crossed her arms. “Were you guys kissing?”

  “No,” said Andrew.

  “Of course not,” Carly added.

  Without further discussion, Andrew promptly returned to the kitchen and went to work sweeping up the broken glass, allowing Carly to get dinner on the table. And, fortunately, Megan let the subject drop. Likely because she was more interested in the card game Andrew had promised her after dinner.

  “Come on, Mom. You need to play, too.” Megan dutifully wiped off the freshly cleared table.

  “But what about the dishes?” Carly turned on the water at the sink.

  “Don’t worry.” Sitting in his chair, Andrew shuffled a deck of cards. “They’ll still be there when we’re done.” His grin had her narrowing her gaze.

  “Great.” She turned off the water, and returned to her seat. “You’ll be able to help me, then.” Or maybe not. That would only keep him here longer, and they’d had enough togetherness today.

  “Megan—” he watched Carly as she tossed the dishrag into the sink “—would you mind grabbing a couple of spoons?”

  “What for?”

  “I’m going to teach you a new game.”

  Her daughter’s nose wrinkled. “With spoons?”

  “I remember that game.” Carly had played it many times with Andrew’s family. “There are only three of us, though.”

  He leaned closer. “Figured we’d start her off slow.”

  Recalling the oft raucous times they used to have at the ranch, she said, “Good idea.”

  Andrew dealt the cards and explained the rules to her eager daughter. The first person to get four of a kind and grab a spoon was the winner.

  Things were rather timid the first couple of rou
nds. Then it was a free-for-all until Megan and Andrew were fighting over the same spoon. Carly watched with amusement as her daughter stood beside him, wrestling the utensil from his hand.

  “No...” He threw his head back. “It’s mine, I tell ya. I was first.”

  Megan giggled, tugging with all her might. “Uh-uh.”

  Finally he relinquished the trophy, as Carly knew he would. What she hadn’t counted on, though, was his laughter. Carefree and unrestrained, like when they were kids.

  Making her laugh, too.

  Gasping for air, he looked at her, his smile pensive. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve done that?”

  She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the game or the laughter. Nonetheless, she said, “It’s often the simple things that bring us the greatest pleasure.”

  “In that case, this is the greatest pleasure I’ve had in a long time.”

  She believed him. And that made her very sad.

  * * *

  Three days after Andrew had literally swept Carly off her feet, the aroma of her tropical shampoo still lingered in his mind.

  And that was not a good thing. He was still thankful Megan had walked in when she did. Otherwise, he might have done something foolish, like kiss Carly. And that would have been a mistake. A relationship between them would never work. He was Denver, she was Ouray, and that’s the way they would always be.

  Yet as he pulled up to his grandmother’s house Friday morning, he couldn’t stop thinking about that game of Spoons and the pleasure it had brought him. It had been a long time since he’d done something just for fun. Work consumed most of his time. Then he’d go home to an empty house and collapse into bed. But now he found himself wondering—what if he had someone to go home to? A family. How different might his life look then?

  Not that it mattered. He was a confirmed bachelor. One who needed to pull himself together, gather his thoughts and concentrate on today’s mission. He was taking Carly and Megan, who was out of school for a teacher in-service day, on another trip to Montrose. This time they’d be looking at appliances, lighting, carpeting for the family room and such. Unlike yesterday, when they’d gone to choose the marble slabs for her countertops, nothing was needed immediately, but knowing how overwhelming the process could be, he thought it would be a good idea to get Carly started now.