She owed Libby extra for that.
CHAPTER FOUR
GIDEON CAME ACROSS from the barn the next morning as Alaina stood by her vehicle.
“Do you need something?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m waiting for Libby. We’re driving down to Bozeman.”
“Right, shopping.”
For some reason the assumption irritated Alaina, though it was perfectly logical. People who lived in remote locations like Bannister County often had to shop in a larger community. She needed to be less sensitive.
“I want to get two or three tables for my equipment so I can spread out when I’m reviewing photos or cleaning my lenses,” she explained. “I have a desktop computer and a large 4K monitor for final checks on photographs. They take a fair amount of space. I also prefer sturdy, uncluttered surfaces for storing everything.”
He nodded. “Camping must have been tough.”
“I didn’t set up the desktop except when I was staying in a place like the Old Faithful Inn, but I managed all right in the campground. My biggest adventure was when a young moose wandered through and stuck his nose in the back of my SUV. I’m not sure why he was interested, but he left tooth marks on one of my camera straps. It was a tug of war between the two of us.”
“How do you know it was a he?”
“Female moose lack antlers and other obvious evidence of being male.”
Gideon cleared his throat and Alaina saw a flicker of discomfort in his eyes. Honestly, he was a rancher. The facts of life couldn’t be a mystery to him, while she’d spent over six years in close proximity to a group of wolf biologists who were entirely down-to-earth. But maybe Gideon didn’t think they knew each other well enough for a frank discussion, or he could be in big-brother mode, afraid his baby sister might overhear.
“I have three older brothers who act as if I’m still wearing ponytails and carrying a Hello Kitty book bag,” she said, deciding Libby must be the reason. “I’m not, but that doesn’t stop them from treating me like a child. If Libby—”
“I know my sister is an adult,” he interrupted, embarrassment growing in his face. “But that doesn’t make her punctual. Dad used to say…” He stopped. “Uh, never mind. You’ll be waiting awhile. Libby is notoriously late for everything.”
“That’s what you think,” Libby said as she walked up to them. “I’m a responsible adult now. Alaina and I agreed to meet at 7:00 a.m. and it’s seven on the dot.”
“That’s right,” Alaina agreed, wondering what Gideon’s father used to say and why he’d grown somber all at once.
Oh, yeah, she thought with regret. His stepfather had recently passed away.
Gideon’s fondness for his stepfather was the nicest thing she knew about him. Well, he also seemed devoted to his mother and sister. He might not know the best way to show his devotion, but neither did the men in her own family.
For the most part, Gideon had shown himself to be ill-tempered and inflexible, with hard edges she was still discovering. Maybe he was built that way, or maybe his ex-wife was to blame. But there was one thing Alaina was certain about—he either didn’t think she belonged in Montana, or he was being difficult because he hoped she’d leave. She had news for him—the harder he pushed, the more she was determined to stay.
“Shall we go?” Libby asked brightly.
“You bet.”
As Alaina drove away from the ranch, her passenger sighed. “I heard what Gideon was saying. Dad would tease and claim I’d be late for my own funeral. Then he’d hug me and laugh. He didn’t get uptight about stuff. He just enjoyed life.”
“I love being around people like that.”
“Yeah. I miss him so much.” Libby’s voice wobbled. “It’s hard. We don’t tell stories about him any longer, not even the funny ones that would make us laugh. I guess we’re afraid of reminding each other that he’s gone. Especially Mom.”
“My family was the same way about my husband,” Alaina said. “It can take a while to get past the awkwardness. You could ask Helene if it’s painful to talk or hear about your father. It might not be an issue. She’s already mentioned him to me a couple of times.”
Libby brightened. “Really? I mean, when one of us starts to say something, we usually stop or change the subject, as if we might have said something we shouldn’t have. But Dad was fun and cheerful and he loved us so much. It’s stupid to pretend we don’t think about him.”
“You can tell me all you want about your father,” Alaina said. It had been the same after the accident. Her friends and family had walked on eggshells around her until she’d told them to quit it. Mason had been a beautiful part of her life, and while she would miss him forever, she also remembered their time together with joy. Having no one willing to talk about him had made the loss seem even worse.
“You may be sorry after a while and tell me to stop.”
Alaina glanced at Libby and saw her face was filled with an uncertain vulnerability. Losing a parent at any time was awful, but each age had its special issues. Libby’s mental landscape of the future had just gotten torn apart—a landscape that probably included things like her father being there to celebrate her college graduation and walking with her down a wedding aisle.
“I won’t be sorry,” Alaina promised. “Helene told me that your interest in archeology comes from your dad.”
“He had a gazillion books in his home office—practically everything ever published about the Anasazi. He also had a special interest in Montana history and the use of high-altitude locations by ancient humans.”
Alaina nodded, staying focused on the narrow, twisty road that led to a more heavily traveled state route.
Libby adjusted the shoulder strap of her seat belt. “I just wish I’d inherited Dad’s intuition about people. I should have known something wasn’t right about Dr. Barstow the moment he introduced his wife.”
“Oh?”
“Yup. He’s fifty-six, and she’s my age.”
“Are they happy together?” Alaina asked, trying to keep her expression neutral.
Libby made a face. “I guess.”
Alaina turned onto the state highway and tried to think of something to change the subject. “You mentioned mountain use by prehistoric groups. I’ve been fascinated by the story of Ötzi, the ice mummy found in the Ötztal Alps.”
“That was an incredible find. But great things are also being discovered in the United States.” Libby went on talking about ancient villages uncovered in Wyoming at altitudes few archeologists had ever expected to locate anything.
Alaina relaxed.
She knew better than to be sensitive about the age difference between her and Mason. When they’d fallen in love, she’d decided if other people had problems with it that was their issue, not hers. Convincing Mason had taken longer, but he’d come to accept it, as well.
* * *
AFTER ALAINA AND his sister had driven away, Gideon hurried to finish his usual morning tasks. He wanted to go into Bannister to help paint the sheriff’s office, a community project the local radio station had been promoting for the past two weeks. Deke had also mentioned it. Off-duty deputies weren’t required to participate but as Sheriff Hewitt’s son, Deke was in a special category. Remembering the wry acceptance on his friend’s face made Gideon grin.
“Is something funny, son?” asked Helene as she walked over from the house.
“Nothing important. I’m just getting things done so I can go help with that community project.”
“That’s why I came out. I baked cookies for the volunteers, along with two huckleberry coffee cakes. They’re in your truck.”
“Don’t you want to come with me?” Gideon’s concern was growing again. His mom seemed better than before, but she was remaining on the ranch most of the time, rarely going anywhere.
Helene shook her head. �
�I have things to do here. If you don’t mind, I’m going to start sorting out the attic.”
“No problem, but that’s a big job. I’ll stay and help.”
“Absolutely not. I’m looking for the old Westcott family recipes, the ones my great-grandmother used, and that could take days with all the odds and ends up there. I’ll see you later.”
Gideon was disappointed, but maybe things would improve with Libby’s unanticipated stay at the ranch.
In Bannister he found the volunteers were in the middle of a break. They were drinking coffee from a battered coffee maker that he recognized from ranch association meetings.
“Hey, everyone,” he called, “I brought cookies and coffee cake from my mom.”
The volunteers eagerly collected the various treats Helene had provided.
“You’d think they’d never eaten before,” Deke murmured.
Gideon rolled up his sleeves and opened a can of paint. “I don’t see you holding back.”
His friend brushed the crumbs from his fingers. “I was just taste-testing. You can reassure your mother it was great.”
“I’ll do that.”
Deke’s uncle was there as well and as Gideon painted a window frame, he looked at Nels speculatively. This was the first time he’d seen Nels since his mother had said he was her childhood sweetheart. She would have been much better off with him than Gideon’s biological father. Nelson Hewitt was a solid guy, if a bit stodgy. He owned the hardware store in town, having opted to go into business rather than law enforcement like his brother.
“Watch it,” Deke yelped, ducking as Gideon nearly slapped his head with a dripping paintbrush. “Where’s your brain, pal?”
“Sorry. I was thinking about something my mother told me a few days ago. Did you know that she and your uncle used to date when they were kids?”
“Uncle Nels has talked about it. I think he still carries a torch for her. He has a framed picture of them in the mountains when they were hiking and another of her and their friends swimming. I have to say, your mom was a real stunner. Still is, for that matter.”
“Now it’s your turn to watch it,” Gideon warned.
Deke chuckled. “Just making sure you’re paying attention. I’m not a fan of scrubbing paint from my ear.”
Gideon returned to work, making an effort to stay more focused. The volunteers were getting the job done, but they were also enjoying the company. Community projects were important in Bannister. With the majority of the county population living outside town on ranches or small farms, something was needed to pull people together periodically.
Shortly after the crew had eaten a lunch donated by the Made Right Pizza Parlor, Gideon heard a swooshing, clicking noise. He looked up and saw Alaina taking pictures of the work in progress. He went over to her.
“I thought you were in Bozeman.”
“We only had a few errands and it doesn’t take all day to drive down and back up again. Libby called her mom and Helene mentioned the painting party here in Bannister. Since I wouldn’t have time to do much work anyway, I suggested we come by.”
“And take pictures Maybe you should consider being a photojournalist rather than wildlife photographer.”
“Not a chance.”
Gideon was startled when Alaina lifted her camera and took a picture of him. “Why did you do that?” he asked.
“Because you’re the closest thing to a grouchy grizzly that I’m going to see today and I want to practice my wild bear picture-taking skills.”
“I don’t think that’s funny.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
He gritted his teeth. If anything, Alaina was practicing her bearbaiting skills and she already excelled at that. How did a woman who looked so sweet manage to be so aggravating?
“You—” Gideon stopped, abruptly noticing that his sister was chatting with Deke.
Flirting, actually. And Deke was flirting right back with the “aw, shucks, ma’am” way he had of talking with a woman he found attractive. It was effective, too. Deke was popular with the opposite sex.
“They’re a nice-looking couple,” Alaina said quietly.
“They barely know each other,” Gideon felt compelled to say. “And Libby is really young. Deke had a degree in criminal science and was already a deputy sheriff when she was playing volleyball in middle school.”
Sadness seemed to briefly darken Alaina’s unique eyes. “She seems old enough to know what she wants.”
“I just don’t want her getting hurt.”
Alaina’s expression was gentle, even kind. “I know, but you’re reading a whole lot into a single moment. They’re talking. That’s all. And whatever happens is up to them.”
A peculiar sensation crept through Gideon. He wasn’t superstitious, yet he knew that single moments were important. But how did you know which moments were going to change your life? Like the one when he’d seen his ex-wife and decided that he had fallen for her at first sight? A fateful moment, to be sure, just not one he would care to repeat.
He shook himself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so personal. I’ll try to keep my mom and sister from disturbing you too much. Since they’re used to having more people around, the ranch may feel lonely to them for a while.”
“That’s all right, I can look after myself.”
“You keep saying that, it’s just hard to believe.”
“Because of the way I look?” she asked, sticking her chin in the air. How many people had she frustrated with her obstinate nature over the years? It must have been quite a few.
“Realistically, someone shouldn’t carry more than 20 percent of their body weight while backpacking,” he said carefully. “I’m too smart to guess how much you weigh, but 20 percent of your body weight can’t be nearly enough equipment and food to safely hike and camp.”
A twinkle crept into Alaina’s eyes. “Too smart to guess my weight, huh?”
“It’s in the basic training about being a guy. Don’t say anything about a girl’s weight. Always be polite to her father, be sure to compliment her mother and never ever say something like, I hope you won’t look like her in thirty years.”
Alaina pulled a smartphone from the pocket of her jeans. “I took this of my mom on my last trip home. There’s no creative photography involved, so looking like her wouldn’t bother me.”
She handed him the phone and he could see her point. The woman on the screen looked twenty-five and, in her own way, was as beautiful as Alaina.
“You have her eyes,” he said, returning the phone, “but not her hair or skin tone. Is that from your dad?”
“No. It’s probably from a generation or two back, though I can’t say for sure. Both my folks were orphaned young and grew up in foster homes. Mom talks about doing genealogy research, but she’s a doctor and doesn’t have much spare time. I’ve always envied people with lots of relatives—you know, grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. Libby tells me it’s like that for you.”
Gideon had rarely given it much thought. Yeah, he came from a big family, particularly if you counted his stepdad’s branch of the family tree, which he did. On top of that, a fair percentage of Bannister County’s population could trace their ancestry back to Jonah Westcott and his brothers.
“We add a good number to Montana’s population,” he admitted. “But large families mean there are a lot more people who feel justified about getting into your personal business. And by the way, you haven’t made me forget my point about how much you can carry in a backpack. It’s a valid concern.”
“I told you before, I’m planning to cache supplies once I establish observation points. And I won’t carry a tent during warmer weather. I’ll get by.”
I’ll get by.
Her blithe words made him even more uncomfortable. He was rapidly coming to the conclusion he should
never have agreed to let Alaina stay at the Double Branch. At the very least he should have taken his overdeveloped sense of responsibility into account before signing the agreement. It didn’t matter that their contract said she would take care of herself—he still felt responsible.
Gideon looked at her curiously.
Wildlife photography was a very solitary career unless you were part of a film crew. Alaina didn’t give the impression of being someone who avoided people, so she couldn’t be a hermit or anything like that.
“What made you decide to become a photographer?” he asked.
She brightened. “Cameras have fascinated me since a teacher in junior high school talked about photography in the Civil War and how much pictures from the battlefields affected people.”
“I can see how glamorous that must have made it sound,” Gideon said in a dry tone.
She laughed and shook her head. “Not glamorous. But it had an impact on people and how they saw war. Photographers such as Alexander Gardner and Timothy O’Sullivan were right there, seeing battles and the aftermath, and through their eyes and skill, the world saw it, too.”
“Too bad their pictures didn’t put an end to all war, everywhere.”
Alaina’s face sobered. “True. But I’m still fascinated by the concept of capturing an instant in time and preserving it forever. I love our wild spaces, and with people spreading to every corner of the globe, photographs may be all we have left of them someday.”
Gideon shuddered. “That’s a horrible thought.”
“Oh? I thought ranchers wanted to tame the wilderness.”
“My great-grandfather saw nature that way, but I try to coexist.”
“In that case, there may be hope for you yet.”
She sauntered away, leaving him to consider what her cryptic half smile might have meant.
CHAPTER FIVE
ALAINA STOPPED TO adjust the straps on her backpack, then continued up the slope of a hill.
The sun was bright and warm and the scent of ponderosa pines rose, filling her senses. An eagle cried and she tipped her head back to watch it soar across the sky. A hawk followed and they rose in unison on a current of air before the eagle beat its more powerful wings and drew away.
Harlequin Heartwarming December 2020 Box Set Page 74
