In Search 0f The Long-Lost Maverick (Montana Mavericks: What Happened To Beatrix? Book 1)

by Christine Rimmer

  “You live here alone?” she asked as he led her back to the living room.

  “Just me and Butch. But I’m open to sleepovers.”

  “I’ll bet you are.”

  He took a step closer. “I’ll even let you soak in my clawfoot tub.” His quiet, slightly rough voice stirred her, made her think of long, wet kisses shared in a big, comfy bed.

  She could smell his aftershave, clean and woodsy, and his mouth looked so soft, in perfect counterpoint to his sculpted jaw and hard, lean body. It would be so easy to sway toward him. His sky blue eyes promised that if she kissed him again, she wouldn’t regret it.

  No. Uh-uh. Not happening. “Nope. No sleepovers.”

  He looked at her so tenderly. Patiently, too. As though he could wait forever for her to say yes. “The offer’s open if you change your mind.”

  * * *

  At lunch, she met Gabe’s mother and father, George and Angela, and his grandfather, Alexander. Alexander, she learned, had three brothers. Each of those brothers had children and grandchildren. There was even a great-grandchild or two. Gabe not only had a large extended family in the area, he also had a sister, Erica, who lived in Denver and rarely visited her family in Bronco.

  After they loaded up their plates at the buffet, they sat clustered together at one end of the long dining room table under an antler chandelier and facing a big window with a spectacular view of tall peaks in the distance. Mel considered casually mentioning that there was an Ambling A Ranch in Rust Creek Falls, too, and that a family named Abernathy had once owned it.

  But she knew that if she started in about the Rust Creek Falls Abernathys, she wouldn’t sound casual at all. She might end up blurting out everything—telling these people she’d just met about her friend Winona who might or might not have loved a man named Josiah Abernathy, had his child and ended up in psychiatric care when the baby died—except, maybe the baby hadn’t died, after all...

  No. It just wasn’t a conversation to be having over lunch with people she’d never met before. Mel needed time.

  She needed to mull over this eerie turn of events, to deal with the uncomfortable sense she was getting that Wilder Crawford might have been right—not about her finding true love. That was not happening. But about the mystery of the missing baby Beatrix.

  Had fate somehow handed her the diary and then guided her to the place where the mystery might be solved?

  It seemed way beyond far-fetched. But still, it had also started to feel eerily possible, somehow.

  Not long after they sat down, Gabe and his dad got into a minor dispute over bison, of all things. Gabe was pushing to introduce a small herd to the ranch.

  Bison meat was becoming more and more popular in stores and restaurants, Gabe argued, and raising bison beat out cattle in terms of the cost and sustainability. Bison could live on wild grasses and didn’t require special shelter in the cold months. Plus, they didn’t congregate by ponds and creeks like cattle did, flattening the grasses and sometimes contaminating their water sources.

  “We’re a cattle operation,” George said sternly.

  “Always have been, always will be.” Alexander bobbed his white head in agreement with his son. “No self-respecting rancher raises bison, my boy. A bison is a wild animal.”

  “Exactly,” Gabe agreed. “And a wild animal does a lot better job of taking care of itself and the land that it grazes on.”

  “Mel.” In a clear bid for a change of subject, Gabe’s mom cut in. “Tell us a little about yourself. Where are you from? What brings you to Bronco?”

  Mel explained briefly about her upbringing in Rust Creek Falls and the loss of her parents. She said she’d lived in Bozeman for several years. From there, leaving out her job at Spurlock’s and the disaster that was her engagement to Todd, she skipped right on to how she’d come to Bronco to work at DJ’s Deluxe.

  Gabe’s mom had more questions, about her education and her life in Bozeman.

  Gabe cut in. “Mom. Enough. You’ll scare her away.”

  Angela laughed and let it go.

  “I like your folks,” Mel said later, when they’d finished lunch and Gabe had led her out to sit in the log chairs on the long front porch, just the two of them, with Butch snoozing nearby.

  “My dad’s kind of stuck in his ways and my mom gives the FBI a run for its money when she starts in with one of her interrogations.”

  “Just like parents everywhere.”

  “True.”

  “And you’re lucky you still have them,” she reminded him softly.

  “You’re right.” He gazed at her in a warm, steady way that almost made her want to forget she’d sworn off men. When he looked at her like that, she was seriously tempted to announce that she’d love to go out with him, and yes, a sleepover in his bed and a long soak in his clawfoot tub sounded like the best plan ever. Especially if he would be climbing in the tub with her.

  The front door opened and a tall, craggy-faced cowboy who looked a little younger than Gabe’s grandfather came out. He had a mustache and graying hair.

  Gabe stood. “Malone. There you are. I want you to meet Mel.”

  Not sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed at the interruption, Mel got up, too. She shook the old man’s leathery hand. “Lunch was delicious.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  Gabe said, “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”

  She grabbed his arm, which was solid and strong, just like the rest of him. “Wait.” He glanced down at her hand on him and then up into her eyes. She felt her cheeks coloring as she let go. “You sure? I can ask anything?”

  His mouth hitched up in a smile that curled her toes inside her ankle boots. “Anything.” He nodded at Malone. “Tell her the truth about me.”

  “You know I will,” said the old man.

  And Gabe went inside, leaving Mel standing there trying to decide what questions to ask. She dropped back into the giant log chair. “Have a seat.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Malone lowered himself into the chair Gabe had vacated. “Ask away.”

  “You’re, um, the expert on Gabe, then?”

  “Well, now, I have been with this family for more than twenty years. I’ve seen all the Abernathys in action, you might say. And I’ve known Gabe since he was a knobby-kneed youngster.”

  She couldn’t resist teasing the old guy a little. “But can I trust you to tell me the truth about him?”

  “I make it a point to shoot straight. Ask any man who knows me.”

  “Well, all right, then. Is Gabe a liar?”

  “He is not.”

  She shook a finger at him. “When I met him, he pretended to be a poor cowboy.”

  Malone sat up straighter. “He told you right out that he was broke?”

  “Well, no. But when I called him a lonesome cowboy, he didn’t say he wasn’t.”

  “Young lady, I do not see how you can call that a lie. Gabriel Abernathy has been ropin’ and ridin’ since he was knee-high to a gnat. If that doesn’t qualify him as a cowboy, I don’t know what does. And as for the ‘lonesome’ part—”

  “Okay, okay.” She patted the air between them with both hands. “That’s pretty much what he said when I jumped all over him about it.”

  “Then why are you askin’ me?”

  “It never hurts to cross-check a man’s story.”

  Malone gave her a long, squinty-eyed stare. “I don’t mean to offend, Mel, but you got trust issues, I think.”

  Why deny it? “Oh, yes, I do.”

  “Well, I stick by my previous statement. Gabriel Abernathy is no liar.”

  “Has he ever cheated—on a test, over money, on a woman he was seeing?”

  “’Course not.”

  Actually, this was kind of fun. “Is Gabe an ass?”

  Mal
one gave a low snort of laughter. “No, but he’s pretty damn sure of himself. All the ladies seem to love him.”

  “So I’ve heard,” she muttered.

  “He’s yet to find the girl for him, so I see no problem there. A man has a right to keep searching till he finds what he’s looking for.”

  “Some men do find what they’re looking for—but they keep on searching, anyway. Just for the fun of it, I guess.”

  “You mean they cheat.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll say it again. Gabe is no cheater. As long as he hasn’t promised his heart, he has every right to step out with any pretty lady he likes—that is, given that the lady in question is willing and unattached.”

  “Has Gabe ever been in love?”

  “I do not believe so.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Excuse me.” She took it out and saw she had a text from a number she didn’t recognize.

  You blocked me. Why?

  Todd. Suddenly, her stomach felt twisted and she wanted to break her own phone. She thumb-typed a swift response. Leave me alone. I will block you again.

  How can you be so unforgiving? I love you. You’re the only woman for me.

  You mean aside from that woman I found in our bed with you? Never mind. Don’t answer that. Goodbye, Todd.

  She blocked that number, too, and put the phone away.

  When she glanced up, the old guy was watching her. “I’m sorry, Malone. Where were we?”

  “You look mad as a peeled rattler. What was that all about?”

  She almost played the question off, but that would be lying and she’d just made a big deal about her contempt for liars. “It’s my ex-fiancé. He cheated on me and I left him and now he won’t stop trying to convince me he deserves another chance.”

  The old guy reached out and gently patted her hand. His kind touch had her eyes misting over. “Once a man cheats,” Malone said, “it gets really hard to trust him again.”

  “I will never trust him again.”

  “And, though I’ve always believed in second chances, I can’t help thinking you’re wise. Stay strong, Mel.” Gently, he added, “But don’t be afraid to give a better man a chance.”

  She drew a slow, slightly ragged breath. “Where were we?”

  Malone launched into a cute story about the first horse Gabe had trained himself. “That pesky horse kept throwing him, and Gabe just climbed right back on—and got thrown again. The horse gave up first. In the end, that horse was a marvel. Bred as a cutting horse. Gabe trained him right and he lived up to his potential, had that uncanny ability to read each and every move of any given cow. Pure poetry, watching that horse work.”

  Mel asked, “Was Gabe a troublesome kid?”

  “He was curious. Determined. He got into scrapes and then managed to find a way to get out of them, mostly without major consequences. He was honest. Even as a child, anyone could see he had a good heart. You could do worse, Mel.”

  “Too bad I’m not looking for a man,” she replied and hit him with more questions. Malone answered each one thoughtfully, with a touch of charming humor.

  When Gabe, with Butch at his heels, emerged from the house, Malone got up. “I did my best. She’s a tough customer, this one.”

  “That was fun,” she said, once Malone had gone back inside.

  “So?” Gabe spread his arms wide. “What’s the verdict? Hit me with it.”

  “I’ll say this much. You don’t suck.”

  He let out a low laugh. “Is that all I get?”

  “Hey. Malone works for you. How can I be sure he’s going to tell me the worst about you?”

  “Give a guy a break, Mel.”

  “I like you, okay?” She more than liked him. But it didn’t matter. She refused to get anything started with him. “It’s just not going to happen.”

  “But you do like me.”

  “Didn’t I just say I did?”

  He dropped into the chair at her side again. “The way I see it, I’m bound to get through eventually.”

  “I’m a bad bet.”

  “Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m still bitter about my rotten ex—and anyway, I’m leaving in a few months, remember? You should probably just give up on me now.”

  Undeterred, he shot her that gorgeous grin of his. “Aw, Mel. I’m no quitter. Malone should have mentioned that. And from now until January is a very long time.”

  Chapter Three

  That night at DJ’s, the bar was packed until after seven. Mel stepped in to help the bartender with setups and to serve beer and a few of the simpler drinks.

  When things slowed down a little, she went back out on the floor. She’d just made the rounds of all the tables and dropped in at the hostess station to make sure all was well there when she glanced over at the now-quiet bar and saw Gabe sitting on the same stool as last night, watching her. When their gazes met, he gave her his slowest, sexiest smile, the one that almost had her seeing rainbows and unicorns.

  Ridiculous. Truly. You’d think she would have learned her lesson by now. Rainbows never lasted. They appeared in that too-brief moment after a storm—and then vanished as though they’d never been. As for unicorns, they didn’t exist in the first place.

  As soon as she had a spare minute, she went over there, sliding into the space between his stool and the next one, just like the night before. “Two nights in a row.” She wore her most professional, impersonal smile. “You must really like it here.”

  “I do.” His sky-blue gaze swept over her. “The food is excellent, the atmosphere manages to hit the perfect middle ground between comfortable and exclusive. And the bartender knows my drink.” He toasted her with his glass of whiskey.

  “Just here for a drink, then?”

  “I’m meeting some business associates for dinner.”

  “Ah.” A business dinner. Nothing to do with her. Good. He’d gotten the message. She should be relieved. And she was—relieved, not disappointed. Not disappointed in the least. “Well, have a productive meeting, then.”

  “Mel.” His warm fingers brushed her forearm as she started to turn. Heat bloomed at the light touch and flowed upward, to her shoulder, over her neck. Her cheeks felt hot.

  Oh, this was bad.

  Chemistry. Why did it have to be so hard to ignore?

  She blasted him another plastic smile. “Yes?”

  He leaned her way just a little. “Have dinner with me. Thursday night.”

  So then. He might have a dinner meeting, but he was here to see her, too. A little thrill shot through her. She just knew her blush was deeper than ever.

  Really, what was the matter with her? She was becoming one of those women, the kind who said they wanted one thing—while wishing way too hard for another. “I’m not going to do that. You have to stop asking me.”

  “Sorry. But I’m not ready to give up on you yet, Mel. I’m just not. See, I have this really strong feeling that giving up on you would be a big mistake.”

  She scoffed, but the sound was weak. “Oh, come on. You make it sound like life and death. It’s only a date.”

  “Exactly.” He gave her that smile that somehow annihilated her will to resist him. “Only a date. Not a big deal. You just need to say yes.”

  “No. Really—and I have to go now. I’m working.”

  “I’m not giving up.”

  “Enjoy your dinner, Gabe.” That time, when she turned away, he let her go.

  The rest of his party arrived a few minutes later. Mel was much too aware of where the hostess seated them, of the occasional sound of his low laughter in response to something one of the others at the table had said. The dinner meeting went on for a couple of hours. Mel switched places with Gwen at nine thirty and the next time she emerged from the kitchen
, he was gone.

  But he came back on Wednesday. She turned around at a little before seven and there he was, in the spot she’d already come to think of as his, at the end of the bar.

  She really tried not to go over there. But she didn’t try hard enough.

  Ten minutes after she first spotted him, she slipped into the space between his stool and the next one over. “Another business dinner?”

  “Nope. Tonight I’m just here to see you. Tomorrow’s your night off. Spend it with me.”

  Yes. The word kind of bounced around in her brain and almost leapt out her mouth. But she kept her lips pressed together and shook her head slowly.

  He studied her for a long, intense minute or two. “You off all day tomorrow?”

  Still half-afraid to say anything for fear she’d find herself agreeing to go out with him, she nodded. And then he was grinning. And then suddenly, they were both laughing. Because she refused to answer his question and he seemed to have a pretty good idea why.

  Then he asked, “How about a visit to Daphne Taylor’s animal sanctuary? We’ll go in the afternoon. It won’t in any way be a date. You might find a pet. Or you might just enjoy having a look around.”

  She really was curious about that animal sanctuary...

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “You know you’re curious about Happy Hearts.”

  Now he read minds? “How can you possibly know that?”

  He was definitely smirking. “It’ll be fun. And you’ll love Daphne.”

  She made the mistake of opening her mouth yet again. A yes popped out. “All right. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  “You don’t have my address.”

  “Text it to me.”

  This was the moment to insist she would take her own car.

  But really, if she was meeting him there anyway, why not just ride with him? She pulled out her phone and sent the text.

  His phone, right there on the bar by his elbow, lit up. He shot her a grin. “Great.” And then he pulled some bills from his pocket, dropped them on the bar next to his glass and grabbed the phone. “See you at noon.”

  “I don’t need a pet,” she warned, though it just so happened that yesterday as she was leaving for work, she’d seen a calico cat basking in some unknown neighbor’s window at BH247. The cat had her thinking of her sweet, lost Bluebonnet again, feeling a little wistful, maybe. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have a furry friend to keep her company. This morning, she’d checked her lease. Her building allowed cats and small dogs, though the lease required that pet owners pay a rather hefty deposit for possible damages—not that it even mattered. She was not getting a pet.