by Fiona Lowe
He set the basket down. “Mom?”
She turned from the window, her face lined with weariness and surprise. “Beau. I didn’t hear you come in, honey. Is everything going okay?”
“It’s all good. Dad asked me to bring you down more wood for the stove and to collect the cake for coffee break.”
Startled, she pressed her hand to her throat. “Oh my gosh. Is that the time?”
“It’s gone three.”
“I didn’t realize it was so late. The slices and the cakes are over there.”
Two white boxes clearly marked Shannon’s Home-Style Baking sat on the counter. The memory of vivid sky blue eyes ringed by chocolate lashes slugged him. He pushed it aside. “Why are you buying food from town?” Again.
“I’m not,” she said quickly. “Katrina brought the baked goods home because they hadn’t sold and, well, there’s no point wasting good food.”
His mom never wasted anything. Ranch life had taught her to be frugal, and she’d been an expert recycler long before it became mainstream. “I guess it’s kinda handy Katrina’s working there.”
Bonnie grimaced. “Seems a waste of her talents, don’t you think?”
Beau never questioned anyone their choices if they were legal. He figured, like him, they had their reasons for doing what they did. “She seems happy enough.”
“I don’t think she’s happy at all,” Bonnie said quietly.
Beau swallowed. He really didn’t want to get into a discussion about feelings. He reached for the firebox handle on the stove. “Do you want me to s-stoke the fire for supper?”
“Yes, please.” She pressed her palms against the table and stood up quickly. Her face immediately drained of color and she pressed her hand to her side.
Concern rippled through him. “You okay, Mom?”
“I’m fine. I just stood up too fast, is all.” Pressing her lips together for a moment, she steadied herself and then walked to the counter and pulled on her apron. Waving her hand at him, she said, “Go take that food to the guys. I’ve got work to do.”
His moment of unease retreated as the very capable woman he knew and loved returned. He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Scooping up the boxes, and with the scent of brown sugar and chocolate assailing his nostrils, he walked to the door. The aromas took him straight back to the diner—to questioning eyes, pink lips and sun-streaked blond hair. Straight back to the fool he’d made of himself, and his ears burned hot at the memory.
He didn’t get it. For years he’d been more than content with the company of his dog, his horses, the cows, the guys he worked with and the family. It was a good life—so much better than it might have been—and there was no reason for any of it to change. Sure, there were moments of loneliness, but that happened to everyone, and now and then, when he felt the need, he had a mutual arrangement with a woman in Kalispell. She didn’t want more from him than that, and he didn’t have it to give, so it suited both of them.
Despite growing up with two female cousins, women perplexed him and at high school they’d taunted him, which was why there was absolutely no reason to suddenly be associating the scent of chocolate and brown sugar with the new diner owner. Or thinking about the touch of her hand in his. No reason at all.
He stepped out onto the back porch and whistled for his Australian cattle dog. With Scout by his side, he marched straight back to the corral, where he was surrounded by cows with big brown eyes whose gaze never once made him stutter.
—
THE bar was quiet for a Thursday night, and Katrina had washed every glass and wiped every surface. The jukebox was playing a country song about the agony of love, and she desperately wanted to flip it to something loud and with a heavy beat, but the guy with the flowing beard who’d chosen the song had a look in his eye that said leave well enough alone.
All the customers had their meals and drinks, and sadly, that left her with time on her hands to think. Thoughts kept pinging in her head, and every single one of them was something she wanted to forget.
Like Brent’s totally screwed-up ethics. How had she not known things weren’t as they seemed? The fact that she was back in Bear Paw and justifying to herself that working at the diner and the bar was what she wanted, but it had only taken one session working at the clinic to remind her how much she missed nursing. And that kiss. More than anything she didn’t want to still be thinking about that mind-altering, bone-melting, addictive kiss, but her mind and her body kept reliving it in minute detail when she least expected it. It was as if the kiss had unleashed her sex drive, which she’d locked down tight since leaving Brent. And it so wanted to play.
Why the hell did it have to be Josh who’d kissed her and lit her up like Christmas lights? Why not a cowboy or some guy from out of town? Someone safe. Nothing about Josh was safe. He was arrogant, snarky, lacking in people skills and, worse than all of that put together, a doctor. Given her track record, he was her worst nightmare, so why did attraction flow between them like the snap and crackle of electricity? She didn’t want to be one of those women addicted to men who treated her badly, and she was determined not to let herself down again. Bear Paw was supposed to be a refuge for her, not a pit of temptation.
No guy has ever kissed you like that.
Lah-lah-lah. Not listening.
Her phone buzzed, and as it was quiet and she was desperate for distraction, she read the e-mail. It contained the information she’d requested from the charity foundation in Ecuador. It came with a list of necessary vaccinations before travel and a selection of available dates over the next year when she could do a rotation at a children’s orphanage.
She became aware of a rumble of voices greeting people and, shoving her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, she looked up into a smiling and familiar face. Happiness filled her. “Ty Garver. How are you?”
He leaned over the bar and gave her a warm and friendly kiss on the cheek. “Better for seeing you. Your dad said you were back in town, although he didn’t mention you were working here. Have you met the new doc?”
Her mouth dried as Josh appeared at Ty’s side, and somehow she managed to coordinate her jaw and her brain to say, “I have.” In fact the last time I saw him, I had my tongue down his throat. “Hi, Josh.”
He tilted his head in a way that said I totally remember what we were doing last time we met. “Katrina.”
His deep voice rumbled around her and she locked her knees against the delicious heat that streamed through her. Argh. This was the problem. Ancient biology meant she found this type of guy attractive. As a modern-day life partner, it had disaster written all over it. She had a PhD in that.
Pushing two coasters out toward both men, she said, “So what can I get you?”
“Two beers,” Ty said, utterly unaware of the tension that flowed between her and Josh. “I met the doc in the hardware store looking hungry, and I told him he hasn’t lived until he’s tried one of Leroy’s burgers.”
Her hand paused on the beer tap and she stared at Josh. “You were in the hardware store?”
He met her gaze, only unlike last week when it had burned so hot and bright, it was now back to its more usual observing yet slightly detached expression. “I was. I’m installing a water filter for my coffee machine.”
Ty paid for the beers. “I hear you. I installed one for mine but, word of advice, Josh. With this crowd, it’s probably best not to talk about coffee machines in the bar.”
Josh raised his glass. “Thanks for the tip.”
“I’ll get your burgers,” Katrina said, walking away pinching herself to check that she really was alive and still in Bear Paw. It was necessary because not only had cowboy Ty Garver developed a taste for real coffee, Josh had just accepted some advice from a local without looking like he was sucking on lemons.
—
JOSH glanced around at the bar. There were plenty of wooden tables with matching country-style chairs with turned legs that looked like they’d been n
ew about twenty-five years ago. There were some booths along one wall, and closer to the bar was a small stage. Two cowboys were playing pool and being cheered on by two young women who looked to be barely legal drinking age. Beer and hard liquor seemed to be the drinks of choice. He couldn’t see a single glass of wine anywhere.
When he’d accepted Ty’s invitation, he’d had no clue this bar was the one where Katrina worked, but he was fast learning that it was easier to avoid the common cold than to avoid Katrina McCade. After the way she’d kissed him, he wasn’t certain he wanted to avoid her one little bit.
He’d been in town for three weeks and four days, and although the shock at how small the place was had faded slightly and he was slowly finding a routine at work, he hadn’t banked on the loneliness. Soul-sucking, mind-numbing loneliness. Sure, he saw people every day, but most of them were patients. The small staff at the hospital was nice enough, but he missed the rush and pace of a city hospital. He missed having other doctors around to discuss cases with and to chat about wine, vacations in warm places and, hell, in a pinch, even golf.
Every day in Bear Paw seemed to be forty-eight hours long, and to make matters worse, he couldn’t sleep. It was too damn quiet. It was light for longer. The moon was brighter than a streetlamp, the crickets were too damn noisy and the howling of the coyotes gave him chills. And last night, thoughts of Katrina—her vanilla and sunshine scent, the silkiness of her hair, the way her breasts had pressed into his chest—had him hard for half the night.
“Josh, do you play sports?”
Ty’s question thankfully broke into his reverie just as his heart rate was kicking up. “I run.”
Ty grinned. “Run east and it’s flat. Run west to climb. You been to Glacier yet?”
Bear Paw was on the road to the national park, and Floyd had told him to expect a lot of tourists calling by the ER during the summer months. “Not yet. I’m pretty much hostage to the town. If I’m not here, there’s no doctor.”
“We’re used to that.” Ty sipped his beer thoughtfully. “You should make plans to go. Randall will surely cover you for the occasional weekend, and camping there in the summer is magic. It’s the best place in the lower forty-eight to see the northern lights.”
Memories of visiting the planetarium as a kid on a field trip prompted his memory. “The aurora borealis? Seriously?”
“Yep. This is God’s own country out here.”
Katrina arrived with two red baskets, each one containing an enormous burger and a side of fries. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Katrina,” Ty said with an easy smile. “Are you helping out on Saturday?”
She nodded. “Sure am. Everyone’s helping out on Saturday.”
Everyone? Josh had no clue what was happening on Saturday.
“It’s been a long time,” Ty said with an indulgent look on his face. “You still remember how to rope?”
She punched him playfully on the arm. “I’m Montana born and raised, Ty Garver. That never goes away.”
Okay, then. Josh was feeling like a third wheel as well as feeling decidedly out of the loop. “What’s happening on Saturday?”
“Branding,” Ty said, lifting the bun on his burger and squirting ketchup underneath it. “All the ranching families help one another out. This weekend it’s Coulee Creek and next weekend it’s at my ranch. It’s a fun time and there’s usually a barn dance at the end of the day. You should come.”
“I doubt you’d enjoy it, Josh,” Katrina said quickly.
Interesting. This from the woman who’d been pestering him to interact with the locals from day one. It sounded a lot like she didn’t want him at the branding. The thing was, he’d never responded particularly well to being told what to do. “Why do you say I won’t enjoy it?”
“It’s dusty and mucky work.”
“You think I’ve never gotten down and dirty before?”
Her eyes did that wide-eyed thing again, dilating into pools of sea green warmth. “No, of course not . . . it’s just . . .”
Oh yeah. God, she was gorgeous when she was flustered, and she’d just answered a question he’d been asking himself for days. Despite her telling him she wasn’t going to kiss him at work, she was clearly still attracted to him. And hell, after nights of reliving that kiss and the husky way she’d said, I’m not good at all, he’d accepted the attraction was mutual, no matter how little sense it made to him. Added to that, he couldn’t face another weekend of long, empty hours to fill between emergencies. Besides, sparring with Katrina came under the heading of fun.
She pressed her hands to her hips and nailed him with a look that said don’t even think about it. “You don’t have any boots.”
He scratched his jaw. “Granted, that’s an obstacle. I can’t possibly imagine where in a town filled with cowboys I’ll be able to buy a pair of boots.”
Ty laughed. “He’s got you there, Katrina. Besides, it’s our duty to show our new doctor the real Montana, right?”
Josh saw the war of emotions on her face. The woman raised with country values versus the experienced city woman who wanted to give him the bird. She slapped the bill for the burgers down next to him. “Bring work gloves. You’ll need them to protect your hands.”
He watched her return to the bar, her tight behind clad with blue jeans and swinging seductively as she walked. He swung his attention back to Ty and realized the cowboy had also been watching Katrina.
“We dated back in the day and I know that tone,” Ty said, looking curiously at Josh over the top of his beer. “Exactly what did you do to tick her off so much?”
“I come from out east and I arrived in town,” he quipped, using a local expression and hoping it would stop the conversation right there.
Ty’s forehead creased in a slight frown. “Katrina’s been living out east for a long time now. Gotta be more than just that.”
No way in hell was he admitting to an ex-boyfriend of Katrina’s that he’d kissed her senseless and that she’d returned the favor. Especially not to the only guy who’d extended a hand of friendship to him since his arrival in Bear Paw.
He slowly shook his head back and forth and went for the default setting in guy-talk. “Who knows with women, right?”
The cowboy glanced toward the bar where Katrina was pulling beer and then back at him. “Amen to that.”
Chapter 8
Katrina wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and gazed out the double-glazed glass doors toward the mountains. The sun was rising, hitting the peaks with pink and gold, and she smiled as anticipation fizzed in her veins. She’d always loved spring on the ranch. It was so fresh and pretty and full of hope. The mountains still had pristine snow on their gray and craggy faces, but the plains were emerald green with lush, new growth—perfect food to grow baby calves.
Exactly how many, she’d find out today. It was years since she’d taken part in a branding, and she was looking forward to getting back in the saddle and keeping busy. Keeping very busy all day roping calves and well away from Josh. As a newbie, he’d be on the ground in a branding crew with the kids. She smiled at the thought of Josh being bossed around by her young teen cousins.
Serves him right. She hoped they rode him hard.
An image of Josh on his back with her hands splayed against his naked chest exploded in her head. No. No. No. She was not doing this. She was so not allowing herself to fantasize about having sex with him. Not today when she’d be seeing him.
Not ever because you’re being sensible about men now, remember?
Oh, why had she tried to talk him out of coming today when she knew he didn’t like being told what to do? What she should have said was, “You must come to a branding and see how a ranch works so you understand your patients.” That would have kept him far, far away from the ranch.
“Megan, Dillon, time to go,” Kirk called as he reached for his hat. “Beau’s already out there and way ahead of you.”
“Just as soon as I’ve finished my flapja
cks,” Dillon said, his words muffled by a full mouth.
“I’m good to go, Dad.” Katrina set her coffee mug down on the table. “I saddled Benji before breakfast.”
Her father frowned and glanced at Bonnie. “Actually, we have you down for food today.”
No. I need to be up in the saddle and far away from Josh. She looked toward Bonnie. “Mom, do you really need me?”
Her mother, who was stirring a pot on the stove, pressed her hand to her lower back. “Actually, honey, I do.”
Disappointment rammed her. Her mom didn’t usually ask for help. “What about Megan? We could swap and she could help with the food.”
“I want to rope.” Megan gulped the last of her coffee and stood up.
“You roped last year and you’ll rope next year.” She hated how whiney she sounded so she shot for logic. “I may not be here next year, so it makes sense for me to rope today.”
“Katrina,” her father sighed. “We’ve got hundreds of calves to brand and I need experienced hands in the saddle.”
“I’m experienced. I’ve got more experience than Megan.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure you have. It’s been years since you spent a long day working on a horse. We’re feeding a bunch of people today and I want you on the ground helping your mom with the food.”
Frustration simmered and she opened her mouth to yell that she was a grown woman and if she wanted to ride, she’d damn well ride, but her mother spoke first.
“It will be fun, honey. This way you get to talk to everyone, and I know the Ellisons are keen to hear your news.”
Fun? A day spent dodging Josh without the advantage of a horse? She mustered a smile. “Great fun.”
“Good. It’s settled,” Kirk said, jamming his hat on his head. “Isn’t your boss from the diner coming today?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you know better than leaving a guest on their own. She can help you and your mom.”
