Cole finished cleaning it off, then helped it stand. Nell waited, watching with fascination as he helped the calf find its way and tentatively start to nurse. The calf was enchanting, but her attention was equally caught watching Cole’s calm, gentle but sure coaxing of the calf and soothing of the new mother. Only when he was satisfied that the cow and her calf were bonding did he turn back to Nell and the waiting coffee.
A flicker of some indecipherable emotion crossed his face so quickly she had no chance to begin to interpret it. He hesitated, though, too, and for a second Nell wondered if he might refuse to take the coffee because she was the one holding it out to him.
But then he nodded slightly, and his fingers closed around the cup, the tension in his face easing a fraction. He cradled the thermos cap in both hands, letting the steam from the coffee waft up into his face. Their gazes met.
It was impossible to guess what Cole was thinking. She was thinking how tired he looked. There were dark smudges beneath his eyes. His jaw was unshaven. Bits of straw clung to his jacket and his leather gloves. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He frowned. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She shrugged. “I just thought you ... looked tired. It’s late. You must be,” she added awkwardly.
“It’s what I do,” he said shortly, and she thought she detected a faint hint of challenge in his voice, as if he were trying to make a point.
She wasn’t absolutely sure what point he was trying to make, but she met it firmly. “I know that,” she said. “And I know this time of year can be very busy—and that cows don’t go into labor on schedule. I was just saying what I saw.”
“I’m fine,” he reaffirmed. “I’ve had a lot to do.”
“Yes,” Nell said with an equable smile. “I thought you must have because I haven’t seen you all day. Actually,” she amended, wanting to back him into a corner, “I haven’t seen you since we got here.”
“Like I said, I’ve been busy.”
“Mmm.” She studied the calf for a moment, then looked back to meet his eyes again. “I thought you were avoiding me.” She tossed it out as a comment, not an accusation. They both knew what it was.
“I’m not avoiding you!”
Nell lifted a brow. “Of course not.” Now that was an accusation. And she knew Cole recognized it as such.
His jaw tightened. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
Nell nodded and kept right on smiling. “Somehow I suspected that.”
“Or your television program,” he added gruffly, looking down as he scuffed a boot in the straw.
“I figured that out, too,” Nell agreed. “But while the world doesn’t, for the moment at least, your ranch does.”
“Not my idea.” Cole shook his head.
“So I gather. But everyone else seems good with it. Even your dad,” she added.
Cole grimaced. “Don’t know what’s goin’ on with him.”
“You might if you were around sometimes.”
His brows drew down. “What’s that mean?”
“Just what I said.” Nell shrugged lightly. “If you were here when he was, you might be able to figure out what’s going on.” She wasn’t going to tell him. Maybe she was even wrong. She’d only been here a couple of days after all. But she’d noticed both days that wherever Sam was, Jane also was. And vice versa.
Cole regarded her levelly, waiting for her to speak. When she didn’t, he shook his head. “He’ll tell me when he’s ready.”
“Why should he? Did you ever talk to me? Tell me anything?” Nothing like jumping in with both feet. Nell held her breath watching him, waiting for a reply.
Cole’s mouth twisted. He rolled his shoulders under his heavy winter jacket as he could ease the stiffness in them. “Will talkin’ about it help?” he asked eventually.
“Yes.”
He gave her a doubtful look. Nell returned it. She didn’t look away. Finally Cole sighed. “So you want a heart-to-heart tonight.”
She knew he didn’t. She could see even more clearly now how exhausted he was. “I would,” she said finally, “if I thought you’d stay awake through it.”
Cole opened his mouth as if he were going to protest. But then he sighed and shut it again. He shrugged.
“So, no. Not tonight. But I do want one, Cole. I married you for better or worse. I married you because I loved you. I still do.” Her gaze bored into him. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
A muscle ticked in Cole’s temple. “You’re just making it harder.”
“Good.”
“Damn it, Nell. I’m doing this for you!”
“Then stop doing it. I don’t want it. I want what we have. What we had,” she corrected, “since you seem determined to deny it.”
He pressed his lips together in a tight line and shook his head. They stared at each other. Nell didn’t give an inch. Unfortunately, Cole didn’t either. Finally he took a last swig of coffee and tossed the rest into the straw away from the cow and calf.
“Go to bed,” he said gruffly. “I’ll talk to you before you leave. But you’re not changing my mind.”
Nell sighed. “Fine.” She looked away, watched the mamma cow and her calf together, settled, peaceful. Trauma over, they acted like everything was fine. Maybe it was. Life was strange when you found yourself envying a cow.
Nell flicked a glance back at Cole and saw him stifle a yawn. “You’re the one who needs to go to bed.”
“I’m going.” He checked over the animals once more, gathered up his gear and nodded her toward the door. With a last look back at the newborn and her mother, Nell went out into the cold and headed for the truck.
“Where are you going?” Cole demanded from behind her.
“Into town.”
He scowled. “What? Why?”
“Because that’s where I’m staying. The crew is at the Graff.” She opened the door to the truck.
Cole started after her, then stopped. He looked as if he might argue, but he didn’t. Nell started to climb into the truck when she heard his voice behind her. “You can follow me to the highway.”
She turned her head. “What? Follow you? You’re going the other way.”
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not. You won’t be able to find the road in this.” He waved a hand toward the snow-covered landscape. “You’ll end up in a ditch.”
Nell smiled. “You care.”
“I don’t want you in a ditch. I’d have to pull you out.”
Her smile widened. “You’re such a charmer.”
He scowled and pulled his hat brim down lower. “Just get in and warm up your engine. I’ve got a blade on my truck. Wait there.”
For half a second Nell considered arguing. But a look around told her he might be right. Following him would be a lot safer. He knew where the road was beneath all the snow. Until they plowed tomorrow, Nell feared she wouldn’t. Besides, she liked him fussing over her against his better judgment. Her decidedly frostbitten heart felt a crack in the ice.
Cole was already striding rapidly toward his own truck which was parked on the far side of the barn. He’d have had to drive right past the house when he came to see to the cow.
She heard his truck start up, and a moment later he was backing around and moving past her up the road. He glanced her way as he passed and beckoned her to follow.
Nell turned on the wipers, clearing the snow from the windshield, then put the truck in gear and slowly pulled out onto the road. The ranch house was a couple of miles from the highway, and without Cole’s path and the tail lights of his truck, Nell saw half a dozen places she could have made a wrong move.
She also realized with chagrin that she’d forgotten about the gates. There were three of them between the ranch house and the highway. Cole opened the first, drove through, got out of his truck and waited for her to go through, then shut it again behind her.
She rolled down the window when he walked back past her to shut the first one. “I can shut
the next one,” she offered.
He looked at her doubtfully, then shrugged. “Go for it.”
So at the next one, she did. And the one after that. The gates were heavy and awkward. Fortunately Cole did the hard part, opening them before he’d plowed the road through. But they were still difficult to move, and when she grabbed the second one, her feet slipped out from under her and she landed on her butt in the snow.
The door to Cole’s truck jerked instantly. But Nell was already scrambling to her feet. “I’m fine,” she shouted at him. “Just clumsy.”
She got another doubtful look at that, but the door shut again and he let her deal with the gate. Once she was back in her truck, he led the way the last quarter mile to the highway and pulled off to the side of the road so she could go around him.
Instead she pulled up next to him and stopped, then reached over to roll down the passenger side window so she could see him scowling at her through his own window. A moment later he rolled it slowly down.
“You all right?” he asked gruffly.
“My pride is damp,” Nell told him. And her elbow hurt where she’d whacked it on the ground. But she wasn’t saying that. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Thank you. The plowing helped. And the tail lights. And opening the gates.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment, one hundred percent strong silent cowboy. If he tipped his hat, Nell swore she would get out, go around to his truck, open the door and kick him. Lucky for him, he didn’t.
“Good night,” she said. “Thanks again.” Then she added deliberately. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” No doubt about the challenge in that.
He might have grunted a reply. It was hard to hear over the sound of both engines. Swallowing a sigh, Nell rolled her window back up. Cole did the same. She swished the wipers again to clear off the snow that had accumulated in the couple of minutes they had stopped there, then eased her way up onto the deserted highway.
The big county snowplow must have come through less than an hour ago. While the road was snow-covered again, the cover wasn’t deep and the snow pushed up onto the margins of the road made it easy enough to see where she was going.
She glanced in the rear view mirror to see when Cole turned around and headed back toward the ranch. Instead she saw him pull out onto the highway behind her. Nell frowned. Was something wrong? Would he catch up and tell her she was going the wrong way?
She wasn’t going the wrong way. In the far off distance across the valley she could see the glow from Marietta’s street lights reflected in the low-hanging clouds. Nell slowed down, expecting him to pull alongside. There was no one else on the road for miles as far as she could tell.
But he didn’t speed up. He stayed steadily behind her, slowing when she slowed, speeding up when she did. She considered trying to call him, to ask what he was doing, but she didn’t want to take a hand off the steering wheel to fumble for her phone. Besides, the closer they got to Marietta, the more she thought she knew what he was doing: he was seeing her home.
It was Cole all over—Mr Responsible. He wasn’t leaving her halfway to Marietta on a snow-covered highway. Despite the late hour, despite his obvious exhaustion, despite the fact that he would have to turn around and drive all the way back home again—even further up to the cabin—and despite having to get up again in a few short hours to do it all over again, he was determined to do what he thought needed to be done. Shaking her head, Nell drove on.
Cole followed her all the way into Marietta. She ended up parking at the far end of the Graff Hotel lot because, of course, all the other spots were taken. He sat in his truck in the deserted street as Nell got out of the truck, locked it and clutching her bag against her chest, slogged through the unplowed parking lot toward the hotel doors. As she walked through the lot, Cole’s truck inched along the street keeping pace, seeing her to the door.
When she reached them, Nell turned to look at him. The side windows were fogged with condensation, but she could still see him through the front. She smiled and waggled her fingers at him. He lifted a hand in response.
But he didn’t leave until Nell actually turned and went in through the hotel doors. Then he made a U-turn and headed back toward the highway.
Nell stood hugging her bag, watching until his tail lights disappeared around the corner.
“You care,” she said fiercely to his departing truck. “And so do I. We can make this work, Cole McCullough. I’ll prove it to you.”
Chapter Five
When Cole came back down to the ranch house only scant hours after his head had hit the pillow, it looked like they’d been invaded.
He had figured he had time to get the feed loaded and be out of there before Nell and her crew showed up. But there were already four crew cab trucks pulled up near the house, one of them the truck Nell had driven back to the hotel the night before.
Was she here then? There were lights set up all over the yard, making it bright as mid-day, but he didn’t see her.
Three guys on the ground were setting up something that looked like railroad tracks out by the calving shed. One, bundled up to his ears and carrying a clipboard, was striding around, waving his arms. Cole thought he was yelling. But it was hard to tell because the huge damn generator truck was making enough noise to wake the dead. The dead themselves were milling around in the latest fashion in winter jackets, looking sleepy, drinking coffee and scowling.
Welcome to reality TV, he thought grimly. How the hell was he supposed to get past all these people and trucks clogging the narrow ranch road, then get back past them to reach the cattle?
Teeth grinding, Cole flicked off the engine, jumped out of the truck, and strode toward the house. Before he even got to the yard, the kitchen door opened. Nell came out, beaming at him. “Ah, you’re here. Just in time!”
His heart was kicking over at the sight of her, but Cole stopped and regarded her suspiciously, “What?”
“Sam said you’d take the guys out with you to feed cattle. Teach them to load the truck and how to feed the cattle.”
Cole stared. He was still focusing on her smile, on how she always made the day look better. He had to drag his brain around to what she’d told him his dad had said. Then he bristled. What the hell was Sam thinking? Like he didn’t have enough to do without nursemaiding a bunch of actors?
This might have been Sadie’s hare-brained idea, but Sam had agreed to it. Let him talk the actors through it. Where the hell was the old man, anyway?
Sam’s truck had been parked behind the cabin last night when Cole had finally got home. He didn’t remember it being gone this morning. But after driving clear into Marietta last night, he’d grabbed barely three hours sleep. He’d barely had his eyes open when he left this morning. Something in his expression must have told Nell he wasn’t exactly thrilled. She looked dismayed. “Sam didn’t mention it? You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know.”
Her mouth twisted, but then she nodded. “Right. Well, never mind. We’ll think of something else for right now. Perhaps later we can hire someone who can teach them how and—”
He could see her mind, gears spinning, trying to come up with a useful alternative. He ground his teeth, knowing he was making it harder for her. And that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t the point at all.
“I’ll take ‘em,” Cole said grimly. He should have known better than to avoid the meeting at the ranch when Nell and her boss had met Sadie, Gran and Sam to discuss the possibilities. If he had been there he could have scotched the whole thing right then.
Now he was stuck with it. And whatever else he had to deal with on a personal level, he damned well didn’t need somebody else’s hand here messing with his cattle.
“Have somebody get these trucks out of my way,” he told her. “And I’ll take all of ‘em.”
“They come with a crew,” Nell ventured apologetically.
Cole rolled his eyes. “Whatever. The cows are hungry. Let’s just get this show on the road.”
The sudden smile Nell gave him was absolutely blinding. But then she said nervously, “Are you sure, Cole?”
He was sure it was going to be a disaster, but what else could he do? There was no point in screwing up her job to make a point. Besides, loading up the truck and feeding the cattle wasn’t rocket science. He reckoned the walking dead could do it.
“Move the trucks,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be down at the barn.” Then he turned on his heel and stalked back to his truck before he agreed to something else he’d regret. He had more regrets—and more desire—where Nell was concerned than about anything else in his life.
He got in the truck, banged the door shut and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting. Down by the house, in the lights they’d strung so they could work before the sun came up, he could see Nell in her bright red down jacket gesturing and pointing, talking earnestly to a guy holding a camera, a couple of unidentified crew members and some of the walking dead.
Moments later a game of musical trucks began as the crew moved them out of the way and left the road clear for him to get to the barn. When a path opened, he drove through, giving them a small salute with a couple of fingers to the brim of his hat as he went past.
Nell, the cameramen, a couple of crew members and four guys who looked as if feeding cattle was not their idea of a good time were already at the barn when he arrived.
Nell introduced them all. It was a blur of names to him. Then she said to them, “This is Cole. Listen to him. Do what he says. Don’t do what he tells you not to do. He’s the boss.”
“I thought Sam was the boss.” One of the cameramen grinned.
Last Year's Bride (Montana Born Brides) Page 8
