Her mother sighed.
Once, just once, she’d love to hear her mother respond to that question with no drama whatsoever. But that wasn’t how Ruby rolled. So instead, Claire listened to a tirade about the new boyfriend’s lapse in memory and how he forgot that they were supposed to go out tonight. The story wasn’t exactly entertaining but it was a nice dose of normal and an even better distraction from where their conversation had been headed.
It was a conversation that was coming up more and more between them these days. The more days and weeks went by, the more Ruby seemed on edge. Heck, the more Claire grew uneasy. They both had the same question on their minds.
What was her plan?
She had no idea.
For the first time since kindergarten, she was planless. One hundred percent aimless.
Just the thought made her stomach queasy.
She didn’t know how to do aimless. She was a planner and always had been. That was what had Ruby so on edge. Neither of them knew how to exist in a world in which Claire wasn’t in control of her life.
And right now, she was spiraling. Oh, she was filling her days with work at the bar and her off-time with making sure her mother’s life was fully on track. In the past six months she’d upgraded her mother’s insurance plan so her premium went down, she’d gone through the books and sorted out some back taxes issues, and she’d hired a handyman to finally fix the creaky stairs out front.
These were the kind of things she’d always handled, as a kid and then as an adult. But for these past twelve years she’d handled it all from afar. She’d come home to Lulu for the occasional holiday, but for the most part, she managed the minutiae of her mother’s life through emails and phone calls, which meant that she relied on Ruby to tell her what needed to be done. But her mother did not have her Type-A personality and either failed to see certain issues or, as in the case of the tax discrepancy, was happy to live in ignorant bliss.
So in that sense, she’d been productive during this trip. She’d been driving Ruby insane, she knew, but she’d been productive.
But the To-Do list was almost all ticked off. She had to take her mother’s car she’d been borrowing in for a tune-up—it had been making an odd clinking sound these last few days. And she should probably book dentist appointments for herself and Ruby. But other than that, she was done.
So, what now?
The future had never looked so bleak or so daunting.
A familiar exhaustion set in—one that had less to do with the fact that she was on her feet all day and everything to do with the fact that she was currently treading water in the pool of life. When Ruby’s tale came to an end, she started to make her excuses. “I should get going. I’ve got to take the car in tomorrow before work and—”
“You’re not still driving that old beater, are you?” Ruby asked, her expression one of horror.
Claire bit back a sigh. She’d been driving her mother’s old car for the past six months. Why this was suddenly a surprise was beyond her. What had Ruby thought she’d been driving this whole time, a pumpkin carriage? They both knew she’d spent all her money on her mother and the bar so when the injury had occurred and she’d been forced to retire early, she’d had a tiny savings account and her mother’s bar to show for it all.
She’d bought her mother out of the bar two years before and had tried and failed to sell it ever since. Her mother was getting too old to run the place on her own and her health issues had made it even harder. But no one wanted an old, run-down dive bar in a town that one would miss if they blinked too long.
“I’m taking it in tomorrow for tune-up,” she repeated as she headed toward the door.
“I know, honey, but that thing just isn’t safe. You should—”
“What?” Claire asked, turning to face her mother. “Buy a new one? Business at the bar would have to quadruple overnight for that to be a possibility.”
Her mother didn’t look fazed as she waved off that complaint. “It’ll pick up as the summer tourists start to pour in.”
Her mother had said the same thing this past summer about the winter tourists. It’ll pick up when the ski tourists pour in.
Tourists came through, all right, but they didn’t stay long. And they didn’t pour in so much as trickle. Lulu was hardly the tourist destination her mother seemed to think it was. If anything, it was a glorified pit stop.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that to her sweet, optimistic mother. Whenever she did she ended up feeling like the big downer come to rain on her mother’s parade. So she kept her mouth shut and promised once more to get the car taken care of first thing in the morning.
In the meantime, snow was starting to come down and it was time to get home. She had a warm, cozy bed to wallow in until morning.
Chapter Four
Cole was washing dishes in the kitchen when Alice came in. She didn’t say a word at first, seemingly content to watch him work from her perch on the kitchen counter.
“I’m glad you’re home.” Her silence had lasted so long and her voice was so quiet, he nearly missed it.
He smiled down at the soapy water. “Me too.”
And he was. Despite the problems he and Dax might have had over the past five years since their parents died, this was still home. It would always be home.
Which was why the thought of losing it made his chest ache and his muscles tense with anger. But what could they do about it? He was in the awkward position of wanting to help spitball ideas but not wanting to step on Dax’s toes. They all knew Dax had worked his butt off to keep this place running.
Dax had given him and Alice the rundown on the finances and all the obstacles that had come up these past two years. All of them out of his control. Out of anyone’s control. Heck, even their father wouldn’t have been able to predict those elements or deal with them any better than Dax had.
He’d said as much but he was fairly certain Dax hadn’t heard him. Judging by his brother’s grim expression, he was bearing the weight of a crushing guilt, and that didn’t sit right with Cole.
He should have been here. For Dax, for Alice… for the family’s ranch. But it wasn’t too late. When it became clear that Cole and Alice had needed time to process, Dax had left the table, calling it a night.
It was still on the early side, but his brother rose before dawn so he supposed he couldn’t judge, though it had been hard to resist calling him Grandpa as he’d taken his decaf coffee up the stairs.
“So, what do you think?” Alice asked.
He shrugged. That was a loaded question. Where to start? “I think Dax did everything he could.”
The finality of that statement was disheartening. It was as if he was admitting that they’d lost. If he felt this overwhelming sense of loss and guilt, like they’d let down their parents and generations of ancestors before them, he could only imagine how much worse it was for Dax.
Alice was quiet again. Too quiet. His little sister was rarely this quiet for long. After another moment passed, he turned his head to look her way. She was staring off into space, her young, sweet face furrowed in concentration.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said. It was what their mama had always said and he was rewarded by a sudden smile that lit up her face, making her appear so much younger than her twenty-one years.
“I was thinking….” She bit her lip, her legs were kicking against the cupboards below the counter making a steady and annoying thump-thump-thump sound.
He came over and caught her legs, making her sit still for a second. Her gaze met his. Uh oh. She was up to something. It was the same look she’d had when she was ten and had talked the neighbor boy into selling her Girl Scout cookies for her.
“What were you thinking?” he asked. When she didn’t immediately answer he shook his head, “I’m not going to like it, am I?”
She stuck out her tongue and made a funny face. But then she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m positive Dax is going to
hate it.”
That made him laugh, the first heartfelt laugh since Dax had dropped the bombshell at dinner. “Well then I know I’m going to love it.”
She laughed too, but then she swung her legs once more and hopped off the counter. As she headed for the doorway, he called out. “Wait, aren’t you going to tell me your big idea?”
She paused at the door just long enough to shake her head. “Nope.”
“Aw, c’mon,” he called after her. “I’m on your side here.”
He could hear her laughter tinkling down from the staircase in the hall. “I’ll tell you both after I’ve done some more research. I need to have my facts ready before Dax grills me.”
He started to follow her into the hall. “You can’t leave me hanging, sis—”
“Goodnight!” she called down.
He grumbled about annoying little sisters even though she was long gone and couldn’t hear it. Back in the kitchen, he finished the dishes and then looked for something else to do. After twenty minutes, the kitchen was as tidy as could be and he was no closer to being tired.
Coming home had him anxious to begin with, and now with this news…there was no way he’d be falling asleep anytime soon. He needed air.
The thought of his bike out in the garage brought on a familiar feeling—he supposed it was what people referred to as the travel bug. He’d never been able to stand still for long and at times like this his bike seemed like a ticket to freedom.
He looked out at the snow that was just starting to fall. With a heavy coat, a night like tonight would be perfect for a refreshing drive. Just far enough so he could remember who he was and why he’d come back.
His bike was waiting for him where he’d left it in the garage. The engine sounded loud in the still night air but the noise was muffled by the snow and the hay and the trees waving overhead as he drove slowly down the long, winding drive that led from the ranch house to the main road down below.
Once he hit the highway, he took off, the wind whipping past his helmet and turning every exposed area numb with cold. He didn’t mind the cold, though. He never had. It bit through him, waking him up and reminding him what he’d always loved about home.
And this was home. That was one thing he’d come to realize over the last nine months. He might love to travel, but he’d never felt at home anywhere but Lulu. He’d come back at his brother’s request but if truth be told he would have come back regardless. He’d missed his family, the ranch, the people. Yeah, he loved to travel but nine months of travel had taught him that he needed a place to come home to as well.
And he aimed to make a home for himself in Lulu. It wasn’t too late. He might have made a mess of things these past few years, but he was sure there was a place for him here somewhere.
The cold wind couldn’t erase the nagging pain brought on by Dax’s revelation. Home meant the ranch. He’d been certain that this time when he came back he and Dax could make a go of it. They could find a way to be partners.
But now he might not get that chance, not if they couldn’t find some way to salvage their land and its cattle operation.
He was so lost in thought he almost didn’t see it. If it wasn’t for the way its brake lights reflected his headlight in the falling snow, he might not have. As it was he slammed on his brakes to stop his bike beside the stopped car.
Car was a nice term for this piece of old metal. The old Honda looked like it had been through a war, complete with artillery fire. Who on earth would be driving such an unreliable old piece of junk in this weather?
He climbed off the bike and approached the driver’s window.
For the second time that day, his breath was stolen from him, and it had nothing to do with the snow that hit his face as he removed his helmet, or with the frigid air.
Claire Geddy had always had this effect on him. Always.
Well, ever since puberty at least. Heck, he’d been struck dumb by her back in grade school but that had more to do with her enviable skills at dodgeball. But once junior high had rolled around, he’d been one of the many who’d walked the halls in an awed silence whenever Claire drew near.
It was like they’d known even back then that she was meant for bigger and better. Like she walked on a whole other plane of existence than mere mortals.
Though right now, her plane of existence looked awfully cold. She rolled down her window and shivered as a gust of wind struck her. Her teeth chattered as she looked up at him from beneath long, dark lashes.
Man alive, she was stunning. Always had been and always would be. She carried herself with grace even when she was shivering in a stalled car.
“Hi Claire. Can I give you a hand?” He leaned down so he was even with her window.
Her look of relief and gratitude was overwhelming. His chest warmed despite the cold. For a second there he felt like a hero. Someone’s knight in shining armor.
But that was ridiculous, he was doing what anyone would do. Still, it felt good to see that kind of admiration in her eyes. Sure, it would probably be fleeting but he’d take it while it lasted.
“That would be so great,” she said, her breath coming out in a puff of condensation.
He moved around to the front and she popped the hood. “Have you called a tow truck yet?” he called out. He needn’t have raised his voice since she’d gotten out of the car and was huddling by his side, blowing into her hands as she looked at the car’s insides as well.
Holding up her phone, she shook her head. “No reception.”
That one sentence held all the misery in the world. That was when he realized she was shivering. Full blown shaking as she stood there in a thin coat that wouldn’t have held up to a stiff breeze on a fall evening let alone a cold winter’s night.
“I’ll call the tow truck, you get back in the car.”
She nodded and started moving toward the driver’s side door.
He took a quick look at the car before calling Marty, his old employer at the local garage. He was old and mean, but he’d always liked Cole. He still knew the number from memory even though it had been years since he’d worked there. Once his parents died he’d quit, opting to work at the ranch instead.
He grimaced as he leaned over the open hood. The phone in his hand did nothing. When he pulled it back he saw that the call failed.
No reception.
Looked like they were in a dead zone.
He muttered under his breath. Of all the places to break down.
Cole looked over to where Claire sat huddled in the broken down car. When he came around to her window again, he watched her expression turn hopeful before falling flat at his look. “No luck?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have any tools with me and it’s too cold and dark to get a good look. I don’t have reception either so I’ll have to call Marty once we hit town.”
She shivered. “Okay, I guess I’ll wait here.”
He eyed her like the crazy person she was. “Claire, there’s no way I’m leaving you here to freeze. It could be hours before I get a hold of someone and then they’re able to get here.”
She looked past him to where his Harley sat. Her expression was grim. “What exactly are you proposing?”
He tried not to outright grin at her tortured look but he was certain he’d failed when her scowl deepened when she turned back to him.
“I am not getting on that thing.”
He shrugged out of his jacket, bracing himself against the cold night air. “Come on, Clarabelle—”
“Don’t call me that,” she interrupted.
His grin widened. So she wasn’t a fan of her old nickname? He’d have to remember that. Something about this woman made him want to tease and irritate, if only to get a response. Heck, it was almost like he was a kid again, fighting the urge to pull her pigtails.
“Don’t make me come in there and drag you out,” he teased.
Her scowl intensified but it somehow didn’t detract one bit from her beauty. “You wou
ldn’t dare.”
He pretended to consider it as he held the jacket out to her. “If my options are watch you sit here and freeze to death or throw you over my shoulder and onto the back of my bike....”
She leaned out the window again to get a better look at the bike. “You can’t really expect me to ride that thing.”
“Town is only a few miles in that direction,” he said pointing straight ahead. “For me to go there and summon the cavalry will take too long, as would me driving back home to get a sufficient car.” He crossed his arms, trying to protect himself from the cold. “Come on, Claire, I’m dying out here. The sooner we get you home, the sooner I can take my jacket back and warm myself up.”
That seemed to do it. He made a mental note that the next time he wanted to convince Claire Geddy to do something he would play on her guilt. Clearly she worried more about him and his comfort than her own.
He helped her out and over the snowbank, throwing his leather jacket around her shoulders as he did. She huddled under the weight and he found himself pulling her against his side to help her stay warm as he led her to his bike. She climbed onto the bike with an uncanny grace and he was reminded all over again that this was the town’s famous ballerina. The one who’d made it big.
And now she was back.
He’d been so consumed with his family’s issues he hadn’t thought to ask Dax or Alice what had happened or why the town’s biggest hero was back working at her mother’s bar. Now he found himself dying to know but unable to ask. Not if he wanted to get her back home and inside before they both froze to death.
He loved his bike more than anything but riding wasn’t exactly conducive for conversation.
He climbed on and when her arms wrapped around his waist, he held back a groan. Her body was warm and her scent heavenly. He chuckled low under his breath at his own ridiculousness. It had been more than ten years since he’d seen his childhood crush, yet being around her was exactly the same.
“What’s so funny?” she asked when he laughed again.
Dancing Queens & Biker Kings: Sweet & Rugged in Montana Page 3
