And yet Lydia seemed fine.
“There’s only one way to find out,” she said. “But I’m betting she won’t.”
“Thanks again for keeping her for us.” Zack looked as if he had more to add, but wasn’t sure how to say it. Then, “Today was rough,” he said quietly.
The rawness underlying his tone was impossible to ignore. On the surface he seemed so good-natured, but the children weren’t the only ones in his family who’d suffered a loss.
She grazed his arm with her fingers, offering a brief touch of sympathy. “I understand.”
Far better than he knew. It was possible his unsettled stomach had a lot more to do with nerves than anything else. Sitting in a lawyer’s office discussing estates was never easy, not even when there’d been a huge void between the benefactor and beneficiary. She recalled very little of the meeting after her own father passed away. She’d been unable to process anything at the time other than the fact they would never be able to mend the enormous rift existing between them. Or that she’d been left all alone in the world.
Exploitable. Hungry for love.
Ripe for the picking, was how her uncle had phrased it.
Poor little rich girl, her father’s ghost sneered.
Zack opened the door, snapping her out of her thoughts. She tucked her hands under her arms. A truck rattled past on the road.
He paused in the doorway. “If you lose our bet,” he said, “Lydia and I will be back around three in the morning to thank you.”
Posey caught hold of Trixie, who was intent on following him and Lydia onto the porch, and protesting because she wasn’t allowed. It was possible her daughter might be a bit spoiled. A playmate nearby would do her a lot of good.
“We have a bet?” It was impossible for her to keep up with his sense of humor. She never knew for certain when he was joking.
Zack’s eyes drifted over her face. “Yeah, we do. About naptime? And, believe me, I’ve never been so eager to lose.”
Zack set the toddler on her feet and held her hand as they crossed the porch side by side, with him stooping from his far greater height to listen to something she chattered at him. They retrieved the stroller from beside the garage door, then turned to wave good-bye to Posey and Trixie before heading onto the road.
Posey closed the door and slid the chain across it, bemused. The house felt so lonely all of a sudden. Zack had a presence that filled a room. Not exactly overwhelming, but a definite force that left her unsettled.
Maybe it was time for her to begin socializing more, after all.
She searched for her phone and found it in her bedroom, upstairs. She had one local contact keyed into it, which was sad, considering she’d been in Grand for more than a month.
She punched the number with the blunt of her thumb.
“Hi, Eleanor,” she said into the phone. “Would you like to join Trixie and me for dinner?”
*
Zack’s dart lodged in an outer ring, its fletching quivering, tying the score.
The brothers took turns getting out of the house and it was his night to relax and unwind. He was hanging out with his friend Dan McKillop, the local sheriff, a career choice that never failed to amuse him considering the trouble they’d gotten into together while growing up. Then again, Dan found it hard to believe Zack was an accountant, so that made them even.
Wedged between a hair salon and an army surplus store a few streets away from the waterfront, at the far end of the downtown core, Lou’s Pub had an uninspiring exterior and none of the trappings that tourists looked for when they came west. Designed specifically for locals, meaning crotchety old men over sixty, it owned a dart board, three pool tables, and a big screen TV that was only ever switched on during playoffs. Lou, the owner, was partial to football, but he made allowances for baseball and hockey. Dart and pool also made the cut. A chess table hunkered next to the bar.
It was a weeknight, meaning Zack and Dan had the place to themselves. The TV screen remained silent. The chess table was unoccupied. The bartender was taking inventory while the waitress sat on the bar and chatted with him, killing time until closing. The pub saw most of its action in the afternoons after Lou and his pals had been tossed out of the house by their wives so the women could watch their talk shows in peace.
Zack reached for his beer. Even though Dan had appointed his deputy their designated driver, he didn’t plan to have more than one or two drinks. A ranch day started early, he had kids to get ready for school, and there was a mountain of paperwork that required his attention. The bills had to be paid. The boys needed bicycles too, which meant a shopping expedition. He’d have to get a bike, as well. He’d look for one of those child carriers to hook on the back so Lydia wouldn’t be left out.
“Have you met your new neighbor yet?” Dan asked.
Two weeks ago, now.
Zack shifted another dart to his right hand from the handful he held in his left. “You mean Posey Davies?”
“Unless you have more than one new neighbor.” Dan took a sip of his drink, his face alive with curiosity. “Her name’s Posey, huh?”
“That’s what she goes by.”
“She single?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Zack didn’t want to talk about her with Dan. His friend had the whole blond-haired, blue-eyed, Asgardian look going on, and it worked for him. He’d pretty much exhausted the local pool of available women and a few pools not-so-local, too. Posey gave Zack the impression men weren’t high on her list of priorities, so he wasn’t throwing her to the wolves. Or wolf, in this case. He wondered how long she’d been divorced. Or if she even was.
“She has a daughter a few months older than Lydia,” he added. Hopefully, that would scare his friend off.
“There’s a daddy somewhere, then,” Dan said, sounding resigned. “I have no objections to dating single mothers, but their exes tend to be a real pain in the ass when kids are involved. It gives them too much control.”
Zack couldn’t say for sure how much control Posey’s ex had over her. She’d moved their daughter to a different town, and from what he could tell, an entirely new state. Maybe the ex was a deadbeat. Or maybe just dead.
Whatever her story was, something about it wasn’t right, and he’d begun to have serious reservations about letting Lydia go there to play until he figured it out. He still wanted the two girls to become friends, but Posey was going to have to put up with him tagging along, too.
Dan changed the subject. “I hear Weldon Scott’s interested in taking the ranch off Jake’s hands.”
Zack doubted very much if that interest would grow legs and run. Weldon wouldn’t risk his own ranch to take on the Wagging Tongue’s debts. The old man was well past sixty and his only heir was a three-year-old grandson. It made no sense for him to expand operations at this point, even if the Running River and Wagging Tongue ranches did share a fence.
“As if Jake would know what to do with himself if he wasn’t ranching.”
Dan took a long drink. He lounged in one polished wooden chair and rested his bootheels on another. “It might not be so bad for Jake to take on a partner.”
“That’s what he’s got brothers for.”
Dan shook his head. “I can see you staying in Grand, but Luke? The boy genius? No way. Besides, what do either one of you bring to the table?”
“I’m an accountant, remember?”
Except he’d quit his job in Helena, although he hadn’t yet told anyone. He’d been a cog in a wheel, making money for a large corporation. He’d rather work for himself and be his own boss.
Zack threw his last dart with too much haste and force. It hit one of the metal rings and bounced to the floor. “Jake definitely needs one of those. And Luke keeps the computerized systems running. That counts for something.”
“I suppose.”
Zack collected the wayward dart. He and Luke had each committed a year to Jake, the kids, and the ranch. That was twelve whole months for everyon
e to come to grips with the new norm. It gave them time to breathe, and to heal, and decide what they wanted from life. Of the three McGregors, Luke seemed to be struggling the most, and while Zack wasn’t as convinced as Dan that Grand wasn’t for him, Luke’s PhD in computer science would likely be of more use in a city. Putting him to work on the robotics in the milking parlor was the same as asking an aerospace engineer to change tires on cars. What a waste of his skills.
Although a year in the milking parlor, giving that big brain of his a break, might do him good.
The dart game ended up with Dan the clear winner, at which point the bartender and waitress weren’t bothering to hide their eagerness for them to leave, so they settled their bill and complied.
Outside, the heat of the night settled around them while they waited for Dan’s deputy to swing by and pick them up. Lights glittered off the surface of the Yellowstone River, a few streets beyond Lou’s. The water level had dropped. Spring had been dry and summer promised more of the same.
“So, do you think Posey Davies’s ex is still in the picture?” Dan asked.
They were back on this topic again. It got on Zack’s nerves. “How should I know?”
Dan was perceptive. “You were dodgy about whether or not you’d met her. You’re still being dodgy. That tells me you’re interested. And you, my friend, have always had a weakness for helpless women. She doesn’t seem to have many local connections, which suggests to me that she’s running, and FYI, the farther she’s run, the more trouble the ex tends to be. That bit of insight comes from responding to domestic disputes. Something for you to consider.”
Zack hadn’t really gotten the sense that Posey was helpless—it was more as if she’d never had to do much for herself and was figuring it out. She’d definitely never gardened before.
And she was most definitely guarded. That brand-new chain on her front door sprang to mind. He’d chalked it up to her being a city girl, but what if that wasn’t the reason?
“She’s a neighbor who happens to have a little girl the same age as my niece. That’s all I know about her,” he said, which was the truth. “I have no idea where she came from, but she and Eleanor Fitzpatrick appear to be acquainted.”
“Mrs. Fitzpatrick makes it her business to become acquainted with everyone,” Dan said. “She ferrets out facts better than I do, and I carry a gun. If she’s met Posey already, don’t you find it interesting that the whole town isn’t buzzing with gossip by now?”
Now that he mentioned it, yes.
The deputy arrived. Zack crawled in the back seat of the cruiser. Dan hopped in front and rolled the window down, resting an elbow on the doorframe, letting in cooler air as the car pulled away from the curb and picked up speed on Yellowstone Drive.
Dan and his deputy were talking shop, which gave Zack a few moments to think.
What if Dan was right? What if Posey was running?
His mouth tightened. If so, then she had three men next door who’d recently lost their sister and mother and would gladly come to her aid. First, however, she’d have to trust them, and if Dan was right about her situation, her trust wasn’t going to be easily earned.
That was where Lydia came in.
A soft glow limned Posey’s kitchen window as they drove by, but the curtains were drawn so he couldn’t see in. A shadow moved behind the curtains. It was after eleven. What was she doing up?
Dan and his deputy dropped him off in the Wagging Tongue’s yard.
The ranch house was in darkness except for the light over the kitchen door that they always left on when one of them was out for the evening. When he was a teenager, and even into his early twenties, one of his parents always waited up for him, usually his mom. There’d be nobody waiting for him this evening.
What he wouldn’t give to walk through the door and find her sitting at the table in her robe and slippers, sipping a hot cup of tea.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, shaking off sadness. He patted the roof of the cruiser.
Dan poked his head through the open window. “We’ll have to do this again sometime when it’s not a school night. Maybe you should ask Jake to extend your curfew too, Cinderella.”
“Funny.”
The cruiser made a three-point turn, coasted down the driveway, then slowly headed back toward Grand.
Zack started for the house. Then, he did an about-face. Dan’s talk about exes and women who ran from them had left him uneasy. He could well imagine a man not wanting to give Posey up. There was just something about her.
The moon was out and the night sky was clear. It wouldn’t hurt to take a short walk and check around the outside of her property, just to make sure everything was okay, or else he wouldn’t sleep.
Five minutes later, he crossed the road and entered her drive. He skirted the garage to check her backyard and tripped over a row of stacked flat stones butting the side of the house next to the sliding glass doors. Those hadn’t been there, before. He scrambled to keep the stones from tipping over, worried about the noise he was making, and froze in place, listening hard.
Other than him, all was good here. He rounded the far end of the house and emerged near the porch. All was good here, too.
Now he felt foolish. There might be a bit of truth to Dan’s observation that he had a weakness for helpless women. Okay, there was a whole lot of truth. The two tallboys he’d consumed hadn’t improved his judgment on the subject, either.
At least he was the only one who’d ever know that he’d let his imagination run wild.
The front door swung open and Posey stepped onto the porch. The moonlight highlighted her figure in shades of gray much the way an old tintype might. Although he couldn’t say for certain what color they were because of the darkness, the brief tap pants and camisole she wore clung to her in a way that said they had to be silk. Her long, bare legs looked amazing. Pale hair, leached white by the moon, swung free around her slim shoulders. She held a drink in her hand, which she drained, then set the empty glass on porch railing.
His imagination no longer ran wild—it began doing controlled, one-armed calisthenics. By day, Posey managed to pretend to be slightly better than average, both in looks and demeanor. By moonlight, however…
This was where the fairy princess truly came into her own.
Zack faded into the shadows. He leaned against the side of the house, prepared to wait all night to avoid discovery if he had to. What a stupid move coming here had been on his part. Spying on her had never been his intention. Stalking her was hardly the way to win her trust. If she called the sheriff’s office on him he’d never hear the end of it, either. He’d especially hate giving Dan a good reason to meet her.
She settled into the creaky porch swing that had been there for as long as he could remember. Old Mr. McKinley used to sit in it in the afternoons and smoke his pipe, pretending to yell at the McGregor kids to stay off his lawn when they came by to visit, even though he always had a bag of candy stashed between the cushions for them.
Posey folded her left leg beneath her, activating the swing with the big toe of her right foot, and tipped her head back so she could stare up at the stars while she rocked. One narrow strap of her camisole slid down her arm, unheeded, exposing the smooth, plump curve of her breast. His tongue went dry. He’d love to know what she was thinking.
And then, the one thing Zack couldn’t handle, occurred. She began to cry, with soft little sobs that tore at his heart. Her shoulders shook. She swiped at her cheek with her fingers, sluicing the tears as they fell.
He’d never been able to stand to see a woman cry. All Lydia had to do was look at him with big, shiny eyes and a trembling lip, and he was hers to command. It took everything in him to stay where he was, because coming out of the shadows to offer Posey comfort—intruding on what was an incredibly private moment—wasn’t going to reap positive results. Retreat wasn’t an option, either. She’d see him.
The night was so still he hardly dared to breathe. All he
could do was stand there, pressed against the siding in the shadows, and wonder. What had gone wrong in her life? What made her so sad?
Was she running, as Dan believed?
An eternity passed before Posey pulled herself together. She rose from the swing, all fairy princess elegance and grace, collected her glass from the railing, and went inside. The door snicked shut. He heard the rattle of the chain as she shot it into place. Moments later, the kitchen light went out. He waited another ten minutes, just to be sure, before crossing the lawn to the road.
As he walked home, he made a commitment. He and his brothers had been doing their best to make certain their niece and nephews had fun in their lives.
Posey and Trixie were going to have fun in theirs, too.
Chapter Five
Zack wheeled Lydia’s stroller into Posey’s yard the next morning.
The whole southern part of the state had settled into a drought and the day had already started off hot. He wore a white T-shirt, a pair of board shorts, and sneakers, because he planned to build a fence. Lydia, who was going to develop no fashion sense whatsoever with only uncles to dress her, sported the latest in sunscreen and yellow onesies.
Last night, he’d been able to do nothing for Posey. Today offered no such constraints. He was taking the kids to the zoo in Billings on Sunday and planned to convince her to bring Trixie along.
She was behind the house, studying the stacks of patio stones he’d tripped over the previous night. A few of the stones were spread on the ground. She wore leggings again, along with a white sleeveless blouse tight enough to prove she had curves. Trixie’s sun bonnet matched her baby blue dress.
The McGregors really had to pay more attention to girls’ clothing.
“Problem?” Zack asked.
She glanced up. Gray eyes fixed on him. A frown dragged her brows together. “I thought I could lay these myself, but the ground is uneven and they won’t stay flat.”
The Rancher's Proposal (The Montana McGregor Brothers Book 3) Page 5
