by Janet Dailey
“How true,” Sloan agreed. “The first time Trey brought me here, I felt a little bit like that. It doesn’t matter how much you hear or read about the Triple C, you don’t really grasp any of it until you’re actually here.”
“What part of the country do you hail from, Mr. Rogers?” Laredo asked, and Jessy guessed immediately that Laredo couldn’t place the man’s accent.
“Here, there, and everywhere,” he replied. “I was born while Father served in Congress. After college, I went to work for the State Department and ended up being posted in half a dozen or more countries around the world.”
“That has to be an interesting career,” Sloan stated.
“It’s like most jobs that sound very glamorous—but the reality is usually something else.”
“Are you stationed here in the States now?” Cat wondered.
After a slight hesitation, he replied, “In a manner of speaking. You see, I resigned from the State Department a few years back. Now I work as a private consultant, usually for companies with overseas business interests.”
“So what brings you to Montana?” Laredo eyed him curiously while he dipped his knife into the butter for his roll.
“I had some business in the general area, and since I had a couple free days on my calendar, I decided to trade on my father’s friendship with Chase and wrangle myself an invite. After hearing so many stories about the Triple C, the thought of being so close and not seeing it for myself—well, I just didn’t want to pass up the chance,” he concluded.
“We’re glad you didn’t,” Cat said with a wide smile.
“So am I,” Wade replied, returning her smile and holding her glance long enough that Jessy noted it. She shot a look at Cat, and caught that tell-tale glow about her face. She gave Laredo a little nudge and tipped her head in Cat’s direction. Like her, he observed the very personal interest she was taking in their guest. And his reaction was to make a closer study of Wade Rogers.
“So where do you live now?” Cat asked, with seemingly polite curiosity.
“In one of the D.C. suburbs, on the Maryland side.”
“Maybe you should ask him next whether he’s married, Cat,” Chase suggested, his head cocked in her direction.
“Dad—” She uttered his name in a breathless protest and shot a self-conscious and embarrassed glance at Wade. He avoided eye contact, directing his attention to the food on his plate. Yet Jessy was almost sure he was fighting back a smile.
“Well, the way you’ve been bombarding him with questions,” Chase began in defense of his comment, “I thought you might be checking him to see if he was good husband material.”
“Dad.” Cat glared at him to shut up.
Before Chase could respond, Wade spoke. “As it happens, I’m a widower. I lost my wife to cancer a few years back.” Nothing in his expression or tone of voice revealed any awareness that this topic might be awkward.
Unnoticed, Jake slipped off his chair and trotted around to Chase’s side, laying a hand on his arm to claim his attention. “Greypa, is he the guy you’re going to get Aunt Cat to be her new husband? You know, for Christmas.”
At the same moment that Chase tapped a silencing finger against Jake’s mouth as if to remind him it was their secret, Sloan blurted an embarrassed, “Jake, you shouldn’t ask questions like that. You get back here on this chair right now,” she insisted and threw an apologetic glance at Cat.
Cat was too furious to speak, certain she had never been so totally humiliated in her life. In her youth, she would have thrown her napkin on the table and stormed from the room. Now she sat in stiff silence and poked at her food, seething inwardly.
“I don’t know what you must think of this family, Mr. Rogers,” Sloan began, speaking to cover Cat’s silence. “My son—”
Chase interrupted, smiling at Wade, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “What she’s trying to explain is it’s one of those private family wars I’m having with my daughter. And young Jake here is a good needler.” He patted the boy’s shoulder and nudged him toward his chair.
“Obviously it’s an inside joke that’s best ignored.” Wade directed his reply to Chase, but made a point to include Cat by way of a reassuring side glance.
Only slightly mollified, Cat murmured, “You’re understanding is appreciated.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the stiffness out of her voice—or shrug the whole thing off as easily as he seemed to be doing.
“Say, Jake,” Chase inserted as the boy climbed on his chair, “you never did tell me about that snow fort you built.”
“It’s a good ’un, Greypa,” Jake declared and immediately launched into a full description of it, who worked on it, and what each one did.
When others joined in with comments and questions, Cat was never so glad to have such a nonsensical topic dominate the conversation. Along the way, she did her part to keep it going, determined to have it carry them through the rest of the meal, if possible.
“Sounds like quite a fort,” Wade remarked.
“Want’a see it?” Jake sat forward, all eagerness. “I’ll show it to you after we’re through eating.”
“Maybe another time,” Wade replied, then let his glance encompass all at the table. “I know it’s not polite to eat and run, but I’ll have to be leaving right after lunch if I plan on making my flight.”
“But it won’t take long,” Jake began in protest.
Sloan placed a silencing hand on his arm. “I think you forgot that you’re going sledding with Luke and Dan this afternoon.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jake pressed his lips together in deep thought, then glanced at Wade. “I’ll show you another time.”
“Sounds good,” Wade agreed, smiling.
Cat remained silent, struggling with an odd mixture of disappointment and relief that Wade would be leaving so soon. “Maybe another time.” That’s what he’d told Jake. She suspected that he had been deliberately vague because he knew there wasn’t likely going to be another time. She knew she regretted that and carefully didn’t examine the reason for it too closely.
At lunch’s conclusion, Wade lingered over one cup of coffee, then pushed back from the table. “As much as I would like to stay, it’s time I took my leave of everyone.” Rising, he extended a hand to Chase, negating the need for him to stand. “It was good to meet you at last.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” Chase briefly gripped Wade’s hand, holding his gaze. “Stay in touch.”
“Will do.” Wade nodded, but Cat sensed it was more a perfunctory response than a commitment.
As he began his good-byes to the others, Cat saw her opening and rose from her chair. “I’ll get your coat for you.”
By the time she retrieved his coat from the wall hook, Wade joined her in the entryway. Conscious of the flutterings in the pit of her stomach, Cat waited while he shrugged into his coat and mentally rehearsed the things she wanted to say, barely registering his compliments on the noon meal.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she answered automatically and started to launch into her speech. “Mr. Rogers—”
“I thought we agreed that it was just Wade, not Mr. Rogers.” He smiled, the action carving those attractive male dimples in his cheeks again.
She was momentarily distracted—and a little thrown—by the sight of them. “Wade,” she corrected herself, conscious of the slight quaver in her voice. “I want to apologize for all that talk at lunch today about a husband. I know it had to feel a bit awkward.”
He tipped his head at a thoughtful angle. “I suspect it was more awkward for you than me.”
Ignoring his observation, Cat continued, “Anyway, I want you to know—”
“—that you’re not interested in me in that way,” he finished for her.
She hadn’t planned to put it quite that bluntly. “Something like that, yes,” she admitted, feeling even more uncomfortable.
“Even though I guessed that—actually hearing you admit it—suddenly I’m sorry you feel that wa
y.” At his slightly reluctant admission, Cat found herself at a rare loss for words. As if sensing it, he offered his hand in farewell. “Let me thank you again for your hospitality.”
“Anytime.” Cat struggled to get the word out, her pulse skittering madly at the brief touch of his hand.
He held her gaze a second longer then turned away. Cold air rushed into the entry when he opened the door. It swirled around Cat even after Wade closed the door behind him. The click of the latch snapping into place broke the restraint she had placed on herself.
Hands clenched, Cat swung away from the door. “Why? Why? Why?” she berated herself in a barely audible murmur.
“Why did I react like that?”
Yet the reason was obvious, even to Cat. Pride. She had such an abundance of it. And in her determination to convince him she wasn’t some man-hungry widow, she had been trapped by her own pride, totally incapable of responding in kind when Wade had indicated an interest in her. Cat knew she was attracted to him, sufficiently so that she was curious to know where it might lead.
“Anytime.” The word echoed in her mind, with all its undertones of polite indifference, and total lack of encouragement for Wade to come back.
She told herself it was probably for the best that this had happened. Otherwise she would have lived in hope that he would come back to the ranch. At least now she knew that would never happen. The best thing was to block him from her mind, forget she’d ever met someone named Wade Rogers.
With a determined lift of her head, she retraced her steps to the dining room, entering just as Laredo emptied the contents of the carafe into his coffee cup. Cat immediately seized the excuse to gain a few more moments to herself.
“Here. Let me take that and I’ll fill it back up.” She reached for the insulated carafe before Laredo could set it back on the table.
“Don’t need to fill it for me,” Chase stated. “I’ve had enough.”
“There are others who might want a cup,” Cat reminded him and headed for the kitchen.
Chase watched her leave, then slid a wry look at Laredo. “I get the feeling she hasn’t forgiven me for teasing her about Wade,” he said, without an ounce of remorse in his voice.
“And I have the feeling you’re hoping she gets so mad that she’ll stop talking to you at all,” Laredo replied with a knowing look.
“Put a quick end to the nagging, wouldn’t it?” Chase countered, eyes twinkling, then pulled in a deep breath and released it in a satisfied sigh. “It’s been a full morning…and a busy one. Think I might stretch out and close my eyes for a bit.” He retrieved the cane propped against the arm of his chair, and dipped his head toward the kitchen. “If she wonders where I am, let her know I’ll be in my room.”
Jake stared at him in amazement. “Are you really going to take a nap, Greypa?”
“Yes, Jake, I really am.” Chase pushed out of his chair and headed for the west wing, the end of his cane thumping the floor with each stride.
Worried, Jake risked a sideways glance at his mother. “I don’t have to take a nap before I go sledding, do I? ’Cause Luke—he’s ’specting me right after lunch.”
“If you finish your milk, you can skip the nap.”
Jake didn’t give her a chance to reconsider, grabbing the milk glass and downing its contents in two long gulps. “All done,” he announced, pushing the glass on the table and sliding off his chair in one continuous motion. “Let’s go.”
With an amused shake of her head, Sloan stood up and tossed a glance at Jessy. “I guess I didn’t really want that second cup of coffee.”
“Good thing.” Jessy smiled back at her. The small smile stayed in place while she listened to the run of conversation between Sloan and Jake when she joined him in the entry. Jake was still chattering away when they went out the front door. The silence was instant. “It’s amazing how quiet the house seems after Jake leaves,” she remarked to Laredo.
His only response was an agreeing sound as he continued to contemplate the dark surface of his coffee. Jessy made a sideways study of him, noting the expression of deep thought.
Curious, she asked, “What’s those wheels of yours turning?”
It was a moment before he answered. “That Rogers guy.” He raised his cup to his mouth and took a long sip from it.
“What about him?”
His shoulders shifted in an idle shrug. “Out of the blue, this guy calls Chase and invites himself here. Claims he wanted to see the ranch.”
“What’s so unusual about that?”
“Nothing,” Laredo agreed, then met her glance. “It’s funny though, the whole time he was here, he never budged from the house.”
“How could he with all the snow we have?”
He dismissed that excuse with a quick shake of his head. “No. Something tells me he had another reason for coming here.”
“You don’t really think he wants to cause us trouble,” Jessy said with open skepticism.
“Even you have to admit something doesn’t smell right.”
“Not to your nose,” she countered.
“Have it your way.” As usual, Laredo didn’t argue and simply pushed his chair back from the table. “But I’ll take odds that we haven’t seen the last of him.”
Jessy stood up. “I think you’re forgetting that he’s the son of a long-time family friend.”
“That’s what Chase said, too.” But he remained unswayed by the fact.
She started to remind him that Chase wouldn’t lie, then caught back the words. It was Laredo’s nature to be suspicious of anyone he didn’t personally know. His instincts were usually right, but this was one case where time would prove him wrong. Jessy was sure of it.
Chapter 4
Moonlight glistened on the snow pack that edged the ranch yard and turned the exposed and rutted ground a deep black. Bundled against the night’s chill, Sloan emerged from the Homestead and crossed to the steps. There, she paused to scan the yard for any movement that might indicate Trey was on his way back.
All was still. She focused her attention on the old barn and the light that showed in one of its small windows. Down the steps she went and struck out for the old heavy timbered barn. The cold air nipped at her skin and turned each exhalation of breath into a steamy vapor. Automatically Sloan quickened her steps to reach the barn’s promised warmth.
The temperature inside the barn was a good ten degrees warmer. Sloan noticed the change the instant she stepped inside. At almost the same instant she spotted Trey’s familiar tall frame as he stepped out of a stall halfway down the wide alleyway.
“Hey, there,” she called out softly when he swung back to close the door behind him.
His head turned her way, the brim of his hat shadowing his eyes, but his smile of welcome was clear to see. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I thought it might be.” She crossed to his side and let his encircling arm draw her against him. “Jessy said you’d come down here to check on an injured horse.”
Her side-glance took note of the stall’s occupant, a yearling filly currently nosing at the hay in its manger. The thickness of the animal’s winter coat dulled its sorrel color and almost hid the scattering of cuts along its withers and hips.
“What happened to her?” Sloan asked.
“Somehow she broke through the ice down at the river,” Trey replied. “When the boys took hay out this morning, they found her, soaking wet and blood oozing from a half dozen cuts.”
“But how did she get cut up like that?” Sloan frowned.
“Ice can be as sharp as a razor. But she has one nasty gash that’s a little too deep and ragged to be from ice,” he explained. “If I had to guess I’d say she probably got it from a submerged tree limb. She’ll be fine. So, have you got Jake all tucked in for the night?”
“All tucked in, and he’s sound asleep. I thought about going through the photos I took at Wolf Meadow yesterday to start compiling an inventory list, then I decided to come find you in
stead.” She snuggled closer to him, relishing the warmth of his body heat.
“Cold?” he guessed.
“Frozen,” Sloan admitted. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your Montana winters.”
“Miss those warm Hawaiian breezes, do you?”
“A little.”
“Maybe we can slip away for a week or so in January and introduce Jake to the Pacific Ocean.”
“Is that a promise?” Sloan tipped her head back to look at him. “Before you answer, be warned that I’ll hold you to it if you say ‘yes.’”
“In that case”—Trey arched an eyebrow, eyes twinkling—“maybe I’d better say that it’s a definite ‘maybe.’”
“Not fair.” She emphasized her reply with a playful poke in the ribs, his wool-lined parka absorbing much of the poke.
He turned serious as he ran a searching look over her face. “You are happy here, aren’t you?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life,” she assured him, “even if I never set foot in Hawaii again.”
“Just wanted to be sure.” He made his tone deliberately light, as if his question hadn’t been a serious one at all. “Ready to head up to the house?”
“If you’re done here?”
“I am.” Keeping an arm around her shoulders, he guided her toward the door.
Outside the barn, Sloan waited while he turned off its interior lights and closed the door behind him, checking to make sure it was securely latched. Side by side, they struck out for the Homestead.
Sloan lifted her gaze to the large, two-story structure, its white brick revealed as a pale color in the moonlight. Red, blue, and green lights twinkled around the twin trees flanking the front door as well as the wreaths hung in each front window.
