Rocky Mountain Romance

by Lesley Ann McDaniel

  “Thanks a lot.” He chuckled as they started for the car. “Are you okay to drive?”

  “I’m pregnant, not dead. Thanks for your concern, but it’s not far and you have your rental car.”

  Ben noticed Sheila gazing at him through the car window with an actual genuine smile. He smiled back.

  This time, she didn’t look away.

  Chapter 7

  Sheila awoke the next morning with the sun streaming through the window in her room, reminding her that she’d been so dog-tired the night before that she hadn’t even bothered to close the lacy curtains.

  Dreamily, she sat up and stretched, feeling better than she’d felt in days. A sound night’s sleep was one reason for her light mood. The other reason... Well...she wasn’t entirely ready to admit to that yet.

  Throwing back the covers, she remembered that today was D-day for the café. They didn’t have to be there until noon, but she was pretty sure Courtney would want to get there a little early.

  She leaped out of bed and grabbed her toiletry bag. As she eased out into the hallway, she couldn’t help but glance down the hall at Ben’s open door. He’d probably already gone downstairs to breakfast, but the thought of running into him didn’t send her into a tizzy the way it had all week. What a relief.

  She crossed the hall to the bathroom, and the sight of the old claw-foot tub made her smile. That hot shower last night after her unplanned water-park adventure had felt better than a week in a fancy spa. All her anxiety had eased out and she had emerged totally renewed.

  Looking in the mirror, she paused. She should be mad at herself for falling into the creek and embarrassed for having to be rescued by the guy she’d been trying so hard to avoid all week. But somehow her predominant feeling was something her mom had always called “joyfulness.”

  A few minutes later, she was back in her room getting dressed in jeans and her peach lace peplum blouse—classy but casual, and perfect for TV. At the last second, she decided to wear her cross necklace again today. It couldn’t hurt for a Christian to broadcast an expression of faith, however subtly, on national television. As she quickly made her bed, her eyes lit on the book on her bedside table. A sly smile blossomed again. Even in her exhausted state last night, she’d taken the time to read a couple of pages before drifting off.

  She pulled the top of the bedspread over her pillows and grabbed the book. Since the invited customers would essentially be functioning as set dressing while the judges did their part today, there would surely be some hurry-up-and-wait time. She might as well be prepared.

  She fetched her purse from the back of the desk chair where she’d flung it yesterday and was about to slip the book into it when the sight of her phone glaring up at her from its little compartment snapped her out of her dreamlike state. She hadn’t even thought about checking her messages since yesterday afternoon shortly before her unexpected swim. After that the evening had been a blur of shivering, showering, eating hot soup, reenacting her story for the families with Ben and finally falling into bed—all coated with a covering of elated confusion.

  Now, as reality trumped romantic illusion, she reached for the phone. She skimmed through a few inconsequential texts, then listened to her messages.

  The first was marked Urgent. With a quivering voice, Karl announced that Claude wanted to take him golfing with Mr. Abbott, but he didn’t know how to play golf. Sheila gave the phone a sideways glance. What did he expect from her? Some kind of verbal golf tutorial?

  She tapped the return-call button and, much to her relief, got his voice mail. She gave a brief but encouraging pep talk, ending with, “You don’t have to be Rory McIlroy. Just relax and you’ll be great.”

  Clicking Send, she bit back a twinge of insecurity.

  After answering a few more minor messages from work and an inquiry from her mom about Courtney, she released a sigh. Anxious to get downstairs, she took a step toward the door and started to put her phone away, then caught herself. Kevin. Why hadn’t she even thought about checking in with him? With a slight groan, she wandered over to the window, reveling in the perfect spring morning as she clicked on his number in her contact list and put the phone to her ear.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He sounded a little preoccupied, but pleased to hear from her. “How goes the trip? Did my surprise arrive yet?”

  Relieved that he wasn’t scolding her for not calling last night, she looked out at the yard below. A movement caught her eye, and she homed in on a big brown dog running from around the corner of the house. Pulling a leg under her, she sat on the window seat and leaned toward the glass, curious. “No. But I had a little bit of excitement yesterday.”

  “Oh, really?” There was a hint of distraction in his voice, as if he was trying to focus on her while doing something else.

  The dog picked up what looked like a stick in its mouth and turned, tail wagging, to look back at something just out of her view. A moment later, someone appeared from around the corner of the house, and Sheila perked up. It was Ben.

  Kevin continued. “Tell me about it.”

  As she started to relay the story, she watched Ben approach the dog, putting his hand out as if he expected the dog to give him the stick. “You should see this little ranch we went to yesterday. It’s just beautiful.”

  Continuing on, she heard paper rustling and voices on Kevin’s end of the line. He interjected an occasional “huh” or a puff of air to indicate that he was listening, but she had the distinct feeling that she didn’t have his full attention. When she got to the part about dropping the shoe, she felt a little foolish. “I tried to fish it out of the creek and I fell in.”

  “You fell in?” The lack of amusement in his tone bordered on flat-out condescension. “Couldn’t you just buy another pair of shoes?”

  That wasn’t exactly the point. Didn’t he care that the water was freezing and she could have drowned? Or maybe she hadn’t explained it very well. Somehow it had been a much more entertaining story when she and Ben had reenacted it in the parlor for his and Courtney’s families.

  Before she could respond, Kevin started speaking again, but the muffled sound of his voice told her he was talking to someone there with him, not to her. While she waited, she looked out the window as Ben walked into the field to retrieve the stick he’d thrown. The dog seemed to be successfully training him.

  Noticing that Kevin’s end had gone silent again, she spoke. “Are you working?”

  “Oh, yeah. No big. What were you saying?”

  She decided to wrap it up quickly before making herself look like even more of a moron. “I got stuck in the middle of the creek and Courtney’s brother, Ben, threw a lasso around me like I was a runaway horse. Isn’t that funny?”

  If it hadn’t been for the ambient noise on his end, Sheila would have assumed her phone had died.

  Finally, he spoke, but in a low, almost robotic tone. “I didn’t know Courtney had a brother.” He paused, letting the weight of that last word sink like a stone. “What is he, like, married with three kids or something?”

  “N-no.” What an oddly random assumption. “He’s not married.”

  “Does he live there? In Montana?”

  “No, Courtney’s not from here, remember? She’s from Fresno.”

  “Oh. So her brother is visiting from Fresno.” It came out sounding more like an accusation than a question.

  “Yeah.” She felt a need to shift the subject. “Her parents are here, too. They’re just great. Her dad’s a riot. You should see what he—”

  “But you said you’ve mostly been spending time with the girls who own the café. What are their names?”

  “Andra and Janessa. In fact, today’s the day we—”

  “Huh. I used to know a girl named Janessa.” The confidence returned to Kevin’s voice in a way that ampli
fied her annoyance at his having just interrupted her. “She was a saleswoman in our division.”

  “Really?” She huffed out a tight-lipped response.

  “Yeah. Come to think of it, her name was actually Jessica. Anyway, she used to...”

  While Kevin told a story about some woman not named Janessa, Sheila folded her free arm across her middle and watched Ben engage in a new game with the dog that looked like a variation of tug-of-war. She smiled. This could entertain her all day, if she didn’t have so much to do.

  That thought jolted her, and she stood. “I really should go. I have to be at the café by noon.”

  “Oh. Right.” He’d returned to his previous preoccupied demeanor. “Well, enjoy your day. Only nine more to go.”

  Her heart plummeted. She really didn’t want to be reminded of how little time she had left here.

  After clicking off, she watched Ben give up on the stick and pick up a rope instead. He started to twirl it around, finally swinging it and catching a fence post in the loop.

  She suppressed a giggle. He looked a little clumsy and awkward, as if he wasn’t used to roping, but he sure was cute.

  The giggle turned to a groan. In spite of her best efforts not to fall for him, she had literally fallen, and he had managed to rope her in. She couldn’t entirely trust him, but being around him seemed unavoidable.

  Squaring her shoulders, she firmed her resolve. It might be okay to spend time around him, but she’d have to be more careful.

  * * *

  A little before noon, Sheila and Courtney arrived in town to find the street outside the café blocked off and looking like some kind of crazy media circus had come to town. The place was a sea of mysterious-looking trucks, trailers and tents, cables draped everywhere and people scurrying around wearing headsets and carrying coffee cups and clipboards.

  At the door, the woman who had been there yesterday handing out forms checked their names against her list. Giving them succinct instructions to act natural for the camera and not to stare at the judges, she admitted them to what now looked more like a set for a show about the Golden Pear than the café itself. The place appeared to have been overrun not only by frenzied show staff but by media folks and customers who sat at their tables primping like movie extras. The sense of anticipation and buzz in the room indicated that the “party” wouldn’t begin until the judges walked through the door.

  At a table near the windows, Blair sat with a freshly preened Brian Leary, going over what looked like a script. Glancing around, Sheila saw no sign yet of Mr. Bloom, although she could tell Courtney was on the lookout.

  Moving into the short line at the counter, Sheila cast an assessing look at her friend.

  “Court, are you sure you want to be here? I mean, it could get a little stressful, don’t you think?”

  “Are you kidding? We’ve been waiting all week for this. I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, I’m used to being on set, remember? It’s what I do.” She gazed confidently around the bustling space. “Adam’s the one who needs to be home sleeping, which he is.” She shook her head. “Thank goodness that last calf was born. Now things can get back to normal.”

  Suppressing a smirk, Sheila looked at Courtney’s belly, wondering how long “normal” would last.

  Placing both hands on her lower back, Courtney tilted a look at Sheila. “So those flowers Kevin sent sure are pretty.”

  “What? Oh. Yeah.” It had come as somewhat of a relief that morning when Kevin’s “surprise” had turned out to be a huge bouquet of pink-and-white roses and lilies. She hadn’t realized how nervous she’d been that the promised gift might be something more serious, although a bouquet the size of a small tree seemed a bit disproportionate to the current status of their relationship.

  Courtney studied the menu board, as if something new might have been added. “I guess Kevin doesn’t know you very well yet.”

  Sheila jerked her head at her friend. “Why do you say that?”

  Courtney raised her brows, letting a slight pause do some of the talking. “Just that any guy who knows you would know not to give you anything pink.”

  The words hit Sheila like a speeding Hollywood tour bus. Something about the flowers had needled at the back of her mind, but she’d been so busy trying to rally a sense of gratitude that she hadn’t been able to pin it down. It was great that Kevin had sent flowers, but pink just wasn’t her thing. She scolded herself. It wasn’t fair of her to expect him to know that. They’d only met... What was it? Six, maybe seven weeks ago. How was he supposed to know she didn’t like pink? Or that she wasn’t really big on flowers. She’d prefer a nice bag of jelly beans any day.

  They ordered salads and huckleberry lemonade, then claimed a table on the far side of a large one that had been set up importantly in the center of the room with four chairs on three of its sides. Empty space surrounded it like a moat, and a large sign sat in its center that read Reserved for Judges.

  “The judges arrive at twelve-thirty, right?” Sheila checked her watch, wondering what was keeping Ben. “I hope your parents make it in time.”

  “Are you kidding? They wouldn’t miss this.”

  Right on cue, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs made their entrance along with Mrs. Greene, looking around like tourists at the Getty Center. Sheila held her breath, eyes glued to the door. A moment later, Ben walked up to the checklist woman, then entered the café. He immediately caught her eye and everything else in the room took on a surreal blur. She smiled, which won her a confident grin in return.

  “This sure is exciting.”

  Sheila hadn’t even realized that Courtney’s parents had made their way across the room and were now standing next to them. Mrs. Greene had found Mr. Bloom, who had apparently slipped in without Sheila noticing. Courtney’s eye kept ricocheting between him and Blair, who now moved about the room like a hostess checking on every last detail before the arrival of her guests.

  As Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs sat at an adjacent table and Courtney twisted around in her chair to talk to them, Ben wound through the maze of tables and took the seat next to Sheila.

  “Hey.” An unprecedented shyness tightened her throat. “I just wanted to thank you again for... Well, you know. Reeling me in.”

  “My pleasure.” A smile pulled at his lips. “Next week Hank’s teaching me ear tagging and branding, so unless you want your ears pierced again or a tattoo...”

  Her hand shot up like a stop sign. “Thanks anyway, cowboy.” Looking past Ben, she saw Hank enter and survey the room. “What’s Hank going to do now that we put a damper on his plans?”

  Letting out a slow breath, Ben shook his head. “I don’t really know.”

  Hank removed his hat and hung it on a hook on the wall along with half a dozen others. Oddly enough, he carried another cowboy hat in his hands. He saw them and moved to join them.

  Surprised to find herself not wanting to be rescued from being alone with Ben but instead feeling a bit disappointed, Sheila let out a breath.

  Nodding a greeting, Hank took the remaining seat at their table and handed the hat to Ben.

  Ben chuckled. “What’s this?”

  “I figured you’ve earned this, city boy.”

  Sheila couldn’t help but giggle at the nickname. Ben put on the hat and affected a John Wayne swagger as best he could without standing up. “Thanks, pardner.”

  “My pleasure. You’ll want to remember to remove that in the presence of a lady.”

  Looking at Sheila, Ben quickly removed it with a gentlemanly flourish, to which she responded with a prim ladylike nod.

  “So,” Ben ventured as he set the hat on his knee, “I’m guessing you didn’t get a chance to talk to Andra last night.”

  Hank shook his head. “It just wasn’t the right time. All she had on her mind was this show today, and rightly so.”
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  “Well—” Sheila gave him what she hoped was an encouraging look “—did you at least find out if she liked the ranch?”

  “She loved it. Said it’s exactly the kind of place where she’d like to live someday.”

  Ben and Sheila spoke over each other in encouragement.

  Hank shook his head at their mutual show of hopefulness. “It doesn’t matter now. The other guy I told you about put in his offer. I knew it would happen. It just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that,” Sheila said.

  “There’ll be other places,” Ben added.

  Wishing she could do something to help, Sheila settled for a consoling pat on the arm as one of the servers delivered their salads. “I know how hard it is to want something you just can’t get a grip on.”

  Ben looked away, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. Had he wanted more with her? Did he want that now?

  Hank gave her an appreciative look, then slapped his hands down on the table. “Hey, we’re supposed to look like customers, right? I’m going to go order some lunch.” He looked at Ben. “You want to come?”

  A flash of reluctance crossed Ben’s face that she wanted to attribute to a desire to stay with her, but he nodded and scooted back his chair.

  As the boys headed toward the growing line at the counter, Courtney twisted back around. Her eyes widened at the sight of her salad.

  “What were you guys talking to Hank about?”

  Sheila considered how much she should tell her, deciding it was best to keep his proposal plans under wraps for now. “Just that someone else made an offer on that ranch.”

  “Oh. That’s a shame.” She watched the boys talking to each other as they stood in line. “I’m really glad the two of them hit it off. Hank’s a good guy, and my brother doesn’t have a lot of friends who aren’t computer nerds.”

  Sheila chuckled. “It’s funny. You keep calling him a nerd, but I just don’t see him that way.”