“You mentioned cooking for four people. Is there someone else besides you, Julia and Sarge?”
“I was including you in the four. Jake and his wife live in the original cabin built on the ranch, beyond the trees where you saw the antelope earlier. But they’re down here for meals and sometimes stay in the master bedroom upstairs. They’ll be back soon from a trip, so you’ll get to meet them then.” Jake and Libby had been traveling lately for Jake’s new job, setting up teaching centers for pilots. “Ben’s in Detroit. He restructures protection systems. He’ll be around for the holidays, or maybe sooner.”
“What’s Jake’s wife’s name?”
“Jake and Sarge call her by her full name, Liberty, but the rest of us call her Libby. I was friends with her way before she married Jake.” He didn’t add that he’d never had the good sense to fall in love with her, instead of habitually falling for women who were looking for what they could get out of him. Dating a friend would’ve been smart, but he loved Libby like a sister. They’d both gone through foster care and understood each other. “They were married this past February. She’s the designer and architect for the construction you’ll notice going on around the ranch. Any more questions?”
“No. I’ll learn as I go,” Quinn said. “I mean, if you hire me.”
It had been a done deal from the start for Seth. “Consider yourself hired when you feel up to starting.”
“I’m ready now. All I do need is a tour of the house to get familiar with it.”
“Sure, of course.” Seth’s first impulse was to offer to be her guide, then she smiled slightly at him, and he almost heard her say, Michael passed away seventeen months ago.
“Thank you so much,” she said.
He’d never looked at a woman he barely knew who’d just smiled at him and known there was something special about her. It was ridiculous. He stood and headed toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”
He was out in the hallway with the door shut behind him before he stopped, shook his head and wondered if he was having some late-appearing shock from the accident. Or maybe shock from what Quinn had told him. He had to get away from his reactions to the blonde blue-eyed woman in his office and what she’d just told him. What he needed was to lose himself in a heavy workout or get outside to breathe in cold air and be alone.
He glanced at the entry and Julia was coming out of the west wing hallway. Spotting him, she waited as he headed toward her. “So, how’s it going?” she asked.
“Quinn’s in my office resting in the recliner.”
“And?”
“We agreed that she’d stay here as a live-in housekeeper until her car’s repaired.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Julia asked.
He hoped it would be. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” He made a quick decision. “She needs to be shown around the house, and I have something else I need to do. Could you possibly give her a tour?”
“Sure. Sarge is sleeping. Where are you off to?”
He hadn’t thought about that. “Down to find Murphy. I still haven’t seen his revised estimates on the outside hay-and-feed storage areas. But I won’t go if you need me here.”
She patted the monitor clipped to her waistband. “I can hear everything going on with Sarge, so it’s all covered.”
He glanced at his wristwatch, the one Sarge had bought for him years ago when he’d left for college. It surprised him that it was barely eight o’clock. So much had changed. “Okay, I’ll be checking in, and you call if you need me.” He reached for his lined leather jacket on the cowhide bench and shrugged it on. Then he sat to put on his boots. “She told me her husband died seventeen months ago.”
“Oh, no,” Julia said. “Poor Quinn.”
“Yeah.” He stood. “Please, just give her a tour of the house,” he said, then hesitated. “Julia, do we have any hats around the place? It’s cold out there.”
“No, I… Hold on.” She went back into the west wing and moments later returned holding a black Stetson with a beaded band around the crown. “How about this?”
He stared at the old hat. Sarge had worn a hat like that for as long as Seth remembered. The rule always was, no one touched it. “No, I got in trouble wearing Sarge’s hat a long time ago. I don’t want to go back there.”
“He told me to give it to you. He mentioned something about, ‘That boy finally has sense enough to wear a good hat out there.’ So, it’s yours.”
He didn’t know why, but he felt unsteady when he took it from her hands. Then he found himself doing what Sarge had done every time he put it on his head. He tapped the crown against his thigh, then put it on, tugging the brim down. It fit exactly.
Julia smiled at him. “From a CEO to a cowboy.”
“Hardly,” Seth said, hearing a slight unsteadiness in his own voice. “Tell Sarge… I’ll take good care of it.” He headed to the door, stepped out into the clear cold day and inhaled deeply.
Then headed down to find Murphy, the main contractor for the ranch reconstruction. He needed to focus on the camp matters. That was the most important thing right now, and it was almost overwhelming for him, from the time frame to the scope of it in general. He felt the weight of doing it right for Sarge.
When Seth approached the hay barn that was partially being converted into what the crew was calling the entertainment palace—a place for the campers to be if the weather got bad—Murphy was nowhere in sight. So he kept going north to the stables where they were trying to get the extension by the tack room roofed before snow fell. He passed the large riding ring and empty holding pens out in front of the log building and went in through its open double doors.
Stepping inside, Seth caught the mingled scents of damp air, hay, manure and a sweet hint of grain. A restless snort and a few whinnies came from stalls that lined the sides of a wide aisle running front to back through the building. They’d been gradually bringing horses back to the ranch for camp use and so far they were up to eleven, so far, including their personal mounts. They had a long way to go so each camper would have a ride for the week they’d be at the camp. They were still figuring out a good number. Sarge had always done that with the boys as they arrived at the ranch to give them a focus and a way to learn responsibility. It had sure worked for him.
Dwight Stockard, the ranch manager, came out of the side aisle, spotted Seth and ambled toward him. “Hey, there,” he called. The man was short and stocky, with slightly bowed legs and thinning brown hair that was partly covered by a beaten straw weave Stetson. He was wearing jeans, boots and a heavy jacket. He glanced at Seth’s hat, smiled, said, “Nice hat,” then went on before Seth could say anything, “Got a little mare from the Dunbar Ranch yesterday. I think she’s gonna be a horse for the younger camper who might need a gentle ride.”
“Good,” Seth said as he met up with Dwight at the heavy central pole that supported the roof trusses above the cement floor.
Dwight studied Seth. “It don’t look like you got hurt any from running that lady off the road.”
Seth didn’t even have to ask how the man knew. Dwight had been born in Eclipse and never left, so he was a permanent link in the town’s lengthy gossip chain. “No, I didn’t.”
“That’s good. Now, if you’re here to ride, I can get Miner ready for you.”
Just at the thought of a ride, Seth felt the tension in him lessen. “I think that’s what I need, actually.”
* * *
SETH DIDN’T GET back to the ranch until it was almost five o’clock and getting dark outside. He went into the house to take off his jacket and boots, set his new hat crown down on the bench, then looked into the great room. Quinn was there by the island in the kitchen and looked over at him. He was surprised to see her hair looked clean and silky, falling loose around her face and past her shoulders.
“Did Julia show you around?” he asked across
the space that separated them. He wasn’t going to go any closer. He needed to learn to keep his distance.
“Yes, she did,” she said. “This is a lovely house, and the bed in the master suite is stunning.”
He nodded. “Sarge built all of this and made that bed for Maggie when they moved in here.”
“That’s incredible.”
“It’s all unique. One of a kind.” This whole place was one of a kind, just like the man who owned it. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m doing fine.”
“Your hair, how did you manage that?”
She tucked the locks behind her ears. “Julia found dry shampoo and she helped me clean it.” She smiled again. “It’s wonderful to have it close to normal.”
“Good to hear,” he said. “I need to get in to see Sarge.”
“Oh, sure, of course.”
He turned and headed into the west wing. When he stepped into Sarge’s quarters, he and Julia were at the small table by a side window just finishing a game of poker. He could tell by their expressions that Julia was not the winner.
“Got you good, girl,” Sarge announced, then noticed Seth. “Son, I beat her three times.”
The big man had been diminished by time, his hair thinning and gray now, and the T-shirt he was wearing with jeans was loose on his large frame. Even though his blue eyes seemed faded a bit, he still had that spark there when he was doing well.
Julia stood and motioned to the table as she smiled. “You take my place and teach him a lesson in humility. I’ll be right back.”
Sarge laughed. “Sit down, son. I need a challenge.”
Reaching for the cards, Seth started shuffling them. “Name your game, sir.”
“See you in a bit,” Julia said as she left, closing the door behind her.
Sarge sat back. “So, how’s the hat?”
Seth was still feeling something he’d decided on the ride was a sense of a legacy. The hat seemed to make everything going on more special. “Thank you. I’ll take good care of it for you. If you ever want it back—”
“Son, it’s yours,” Sarge said. “Now you’re here, you need to look more…you know, like this is your place in the world.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he settled for, “I guess I do.”
When Seth reached for the cards, Sarge stopped him. He sighed. “I think I’ll quit a winner.”
“How about we take it easy?” Sarge started to get up and Seth helped him over to get on the bed and recline, laying on top of the sheets. “Just relax,” he said. “We can talk, or how about some Zane Gray?”
Sarge closed his eyes, then waved that off with his hand. “No, I got some thinking to do, son.”
“Oh, okay,” Seth said and sat down on one of two chairs by the bed.
Sitting with Sarge as the older man slipped into sleep, Seth admitted to himself that probably for the first time ever, a long ride hadn’t cleared his head or even come close to helping him make sense of his life. Being here with Sarge gave him no real desire to head back to Seattle any time soon. And Quinn… He didn’t trust himself to make good decisions of the heart. His ex, Allie, had cemented that in his mind. She’d seemed so good, so right, at first. Then she’d turned out to be so wrong. That was two years ago, yet he still felt the sting of his mistake with her.
When he’d walked in the door earlier and looked into the great room, Quinn was there, her blond hair like golden silk. Wearing slim-fit jeans and an oversize sweater, she’d looked up at him and smiled. He’d known right then that the day had been a waste if he thought the ride would tame his reaction at just seeing her.
When Seth caught the scent of cooking food wafting in through the partially open door to Sarge’s suite, a hunger he hadn’t felt all day was right there. With Sarge still sleeping peacefully, Seth made sure the monitor was on, then quietly left the room. As he approached the archway to the great room, he was stopped by an unexpected burst of laughter. As he went closer, he looked in and saw it was Quinn’s laughter. It caught at something in him, the same way her smile tended to do every time it appeared.
He moved back, wondering what he was doing. He’d fallen into whatever it had been with Allie so quickly and made such a bad mistake. He barely knew Quinn, but all she had to do was smile at him. She was also a widow. That had to be so hard for her, and probably something she was working through. He braced himself, then stepped through the archway.
Quinn was putting a basket of rolls by the place settings Julia was laying out at the far end of the long dining table. “I think I would have changed it to Marlin or Milton, or something like that.”
“What’s so funny?” he asked with what he hoped was a casual tone when he stepped down onto the flagstone floor.
Both women turned toward him as he approached the table. “We were just discussing weird names that parents give their kids,” Julia said. “Quinn was explaining her name, which, by the way, if you didn’t know, is really Quinton.”
“She mentioned that to me,” he said, glancing at Quinn and seeing a touch of color in her face. She looked so much better. If it weren’t for the bandage, you’d never know she’d been hurt.
“What’s your middle name?” Julia asked Quinn.
She smiled ruefully, and Seth knew he’d been really smart to stay away most of the day. “Grayson.”
“Grayson?” Seth asked.
“My mother’s maiden name.”
“So, your parents looked at a pretty blond baby girl and named her Quinton Grayson?” Julia asked.
“Yes, and then add my maiden name, Churchill. No relationship to Winston.”
“That’s a great name.” Julia glanced at Seth. “What’s your middle name?
“I was told it’s Liam.” He had no idea where his names came from and he had no one to ask.
A chime sounded, and Julia looked at the monitor clipped to the waistband of her jeans. “Shoot, I need to get in there. He’s awake and moving.” As she hurried across the room, she called back, “Go ahead and eat while it’s hot, and I’ll get to it when I can.”
“Are you sure you’re well enough to be doing all of this?” Seth asked Quinn as Julia left.
“Of course. I’ll get the food if you get the drinks. I’m not a coffee drinker at dinner. Anything else is okay.”
Seth poured a glass of milk for each of them, then put them between two settings that faced each other across the table. Quinn was back with a casserole and a green salad that she put down by a basket of rolls. Before Seth could sit, he heard a thump, then Sarge’s voice carried all the way out to the great room. “I can do that!”
“I’ll be right back,” Seth called over his shoulder as he took off running for the entry and up the single step. He stopped in his tracks when Sarge came out of the west wing, walking steadily with his cane.
Julia was right beside him, and Seth didn’t miss the relief on her face when she saw him. “All of a sudden, he’s hungry.”
The man’s gray hair was combed, and he’d changed into a beige Western shirt with his jeans. Seth noticed his clothes really were loose. “Hey, Sarge,” Seth said as he went across to him. “I’m glad you want to come out for dinner.”
“Absolutely. I’m starving.”
“Me, too,” he said as he took Sarge by the upper arm. When he closed his hand around the man’s biceps, he almost flinched. There was little remaining of the hard muscles that had been there before. In the three months Seth had been gone before he came back on his sabbatical, Sarge had lost weight and that bothered Seth.
“Well, come on, son,” Sarge muttered.
He needed a bit of help going down the single step, and Seth made a mental note to tell Murphy to put a safe transition in before he did any other work. It should’ve been done a long time ago. Julia called over to Quinn in the kitchen. “There will be four for di
nner.”
“The more the merrier,” she said.
While Seth helped Sarge get seated at the head of the table, he had a flashback to when the older man had sat in that same chair for every meal. “Are you okay?” Seth asked him.
The man turned faded blue eyes to him. For a moment, Seth could almost see that former marine who had stood so tall, teaching him all about life and how good it could be. “I’m glad you came home, son,” Sarge said. “I sure missed you.”
“I’m glad I did, too.” Seth patted Sarge on the shoulder, then took the chair to the man’s left.
Quinn brought two more glasses of milk for Sarge and Julia. “Shepherd’s pie?” Sarge asked as Quinn took the seat by Julia.
“Yes, it is,” Julia said and reached for his plate to serve him.
“Finally, real food,” the man muttered as he picked up a spoon and started to eat.
It was fairly quiet at the table for a while, then after two more servings, Sarge sat back and pushed his plate away. “Now, that was good.” Then he glanced at Quinn and frowned. “Who hurt you?”
He’d obviously just noticed the bandage. Seth explained quickly. “She has a cut, and they stitched it up. She made the casserole.”
Sarge took that in. “You made that?”
“Yes, sir, I did.” She nudged her own half-cleared plate away.
“Well, well,” Sarge murmured.
“She’s a good cook, isn’t she?” Julia asked.
The man glanced at Julia and without missing a beat, his smile was gone. “Well, Missy, she’s better than you and them vegetables you try to force me to eat.” His eyes narrowed as he looked toward Seth and leaned closer. In a low voice, he said, “I know what to do. You fire her, then you hire the blonde lady. She’s my kind of cook.”
“Her name’s Quinn, and as it happens, you’re in luck,” Seth said. “I just hired her this morning. So, she’ll be cooking for you from now on.”
Sarge glanced at Julia. “Now you won’t be cooking any vegetables.”
Julia took that good-naturedly. “Thank goodness. We can concentrate on being friends without my cooking getting in the way.”
Harlequin Heartwarming March 21 Box Set Page 73
