“And this is my domain,” she said with a proud smile. “It’s where I spend my days. Yours is out on the range and mine is in front of one. Only it’s a different kind of range.”
She was obviously in love with the place. A fact that totally mystified Matthew. She’d always been Joel’s little princess and even after her father died, the rest of the family had continued to treat her as such. She’d been the pampered sibling of the Hollister clan and he couldn’t ever remember seeing her with grubby hands or wearing dirty work clothes. Apparently that Camille hadn’t been the person she’d wanted to be.
“Do you have everything here in the kitchen that you need? Or do you have plans for this part of the diner?” he asked.
“It’s enough to get by. Later, if I see that business continues to pick up, I’d like to have a larger oven installed for more baking.” She pointed to the cabinets behind him. “That’s where we keep all the pots and pans and cooking utensils. Over there on the other wall are the glasses and cups and serving dishes. Although we don’t use a lot of the dishes because most things are served in baskets. Which makes Gideon happy. He has less to wash.”
“And Gideon is?”
“Our busboy and dishwasher. He’s an older gentleman—a widower and a war veteran, in fact. He’s lived in Dragoon ever since he got out of the military. Actually, he’s throwing a Halloween party for his grandchildren tonight. That’s the kind of big-hearted guy he is.”
“Your coworker is having a party and you didn’t go? Or weren’t you invited?”
Her smile turned coy. “Oh, sure I was invited. But I begged off. I wasn’t about to miss being with you. It’s not like you’ll be here much longer and I see my coworkers all the time.”
Matthew felt honored that she’d chosen to be with him tonight, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the sick little feeling that hit him every time he thought of their dwindling days together. “Then I’m glad we went out for dinner tonight. Your Halloween wasn’t a total bust.”
She wrapped her arm around his and the soft laugh that passed her lips was utterly sexy. “The night isn’t over yet. And I have a few tricks and treats planned for you.”
He was trying not to let his mind go there as she urged him forward and through a pair of swinging wooden doors. The security lamps out in the parking area shed plenty of light for him to see the rows of tables and chairs, plus a small checkout counter located in one corner of the room.
“Here’s the dining area,” she announced. “And this is where I’d like to make most of the changes. Like knocking out the east wall and adding more space. As long as a construction crew can promise to keep the outside looking exactly the same, that is. The simplicity of the place is its charm and I don’t want to take that away.”
She was right, Matthew thought. If she knocked this building down and replaced it with a fancy new one, she’d end up cooking for herself. “It does have character,” he agreed. “What about its name? Are you considering changing it?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. There’s folklore behind it. Seems as though back in the late eighteen hundreds there was a prospector camped on this spot, and one night an antelope came up to his campfire. He tried to shoo the animal away, but day after day the antelope kept returning. After a while the prospector figured out the antelope must have gotten lost from the herd and his family and friends had moved on without him.”
He slanted her a droll glance. “A lost, lonely antelope, huh? Do you believe that story?”
“Absolutely. And why not? Even wild animals crave company. Like the mustangs and coyotes. They band together in families.”
Yes, those wild animals had more of a loving family instinct than any of the Waggoner men had possessed, he thought ruefully. “Have you ever thought the prospector might have shot the antelope and eaten it?” he asked.
She pinched the top of his forearm. “Oh, Matthew, no! The prospector and the antelope became great buddies and lived happily ever after—together. That’s how the story goes and that’s why this diner will always be The Lost Antelope.”
He gazed down at her and as he studied her glowing face, it struck him that her happiness meant far more to him than his own. If that meant he loved her, then he was up to his neck in trouble.
“It fits this place—and you,” he said gently.
She looked up at him, and just for a second Matthew thought he saw a tremble on her lower lip. “So, what do you think about the place, Matthew? Do you believe I’m making a mistake to buy it?”
Earlier this evening at Red Bluff he probably would’ve told her, hell yeah, it was a whopper of a mistake. But now, seeing the diner and her in it, he’d had a complete change of heart. During the last few years she’d lived at Three Rivers, he’d never seen her looking this happy.
“It’s not a mistake to follow your heart. I’m glad you’ve found the courage to do that, Camille. Not all of us are strong enough.”
Her expression turned pensive. “You can’t be talking about yourself. You’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever known. Not for just the things you do on the job, but for all the things you’ve survived in your life. That takes enormous courage.”
Her praise swelled his chest, yet it also made him feel like the biggest fraud ever born. Even if he’d known exactly how to describe his feelings for her, he wasn’t brave enough to try to explain them to her. But then, why bother with that? he wondered cynically. His feelings wouldn’t change the fact that their lives were too different to merge together on a permanent basis.
“Let’s hope there aren’t any Halloween goblins on Red Bluff when we get home,” he joked in an effort to lighten the moment. “Then you’ll see what a ’fraidy cat I am.”
She chuckled. “Sure, Mr. Waggoner. Don’t worry, I’ll chase them away for you.”
* * *
As soon as they entered the house back at Red Bluff, Camille took him by the hand, and together they climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Inside the darkened room, Camille methodically went about removing her clothes, while Matthew did the same.
It was bittersweet, she thought, how comfortable and at home they felt with each other. Like a couple who’d been together for a long, long time. Had it been only a week since he’d walked into the house and into her life? And did she only have a week plus a few more days left with him?
The questions left an aching knot in her throat, but she quickly attempted to swallow it away. Tonight was too special to ruin with worries. Like she’d told Peggy, there was always a miracle, and she was going to hold on to that hope.
Behind her, she heard a plunk and then another as his boots hit the floor. The sound was followed by the rustle of his jeans and then, just as she was unfastening the last hoop from her earlobe, he came up behind her and his strong arms wrapped around her waist.
Tossing the earring to the dresser, she turned and, with a groan of pleasure, slipped her arms around him.
“Happy Halloween, Matthew,” she whispered.
He kissed her softly. “Happy Halloween to you, Camille.”
Bending slightly, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Once he was lying next to her, he rolled to his side and pulled her tight against him.
As her gaze soaked in the rugged angles and curves of his features, she traced the tip of her forefinger over his lips. “How did you celebrate Halloween when you were a child? Eat yourself sick with candy?”
He caught hold of her hand and kissed the palm. “I liked the candy, but what I remember most at Halloween was my sister telling me spooky stories. I’d be so afraid I would pull the covers over my head and cry.”
“Cry?” She stroked her fingers through his hair. “Oooh, Matthew, that’s—awful. Why were you so afraid? Didn’t anyone explain that it was all make-believe?”
His lips twisted. “Sis would tell me later that it was all just a story and th
ere weren’t any such things as ghosts and goblins. But I didn’t believe her. Why should I? All I’d ever known was bad things.”
That Matthew should remember such a sad part of his childhood, a period of his life that should have been filled with joyful imagination, tore a hole right through Camille.
“Well, there’re no spooky stories tonight. No bad things lurking in the shadows.” She smiled gently at him. “But we can get under the covers if you like.”
He smiled back at her and then, closing his eyes, he pressed his cheek against hers. “I think we’ll be fine just like this.”
“We’ll be more than fine.”
And as the two of them began to make love, Camille held onto that sweet thought.
* * *
Fridays were always extra busy at The Lost Antelope, and this Friday was no exception. It was ten thirty in the morning before Camille found the time to take a small break.
“Gideon, I’m going out back for a minute or two,” she said as she passed the older man, who was up to his elbows in soapy dishwater. “If Edie takes any new orders, yell at me, okay?”
“Sure, Camille. Take your time. Maybe the lunch folks won’t start for a few minutes.”
Outside, at the back of the building, Camille sat down on a low wooden bench situated beneath the twisted branches of a thorny mesquite tree. The sun was already hot, but the wind was whipping around like a storm was coming, stirring up dust from the dry ground.
She pulled out her phone and, after turning her back to the wind, punched in her mother’s number.
The last she’d spoken with Maureen, she and the men had finished moving the cattle from the Prescott area, but that hardly meant that her mother was sitting around sipping tea and painting her fingernails. Most likely she was down at the barns, or out riding with the boys from the bunkhouse to check on cattle.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Maureen answered after five long rings. “This is a surprise to hear from you in the middle of the morning. You must’ve taken off work today.”
“No. I finally found a minute to put up my feet. And I wanted to call and share some news with you. Are you very busy right now?”
“No. Actually, I’m here with Blake in his office. We were just discussing some things about the ranch. It’s nothing urgent.”
Camille let out a long breath. She’d much rather have given the news to her mother while the other woman was alone. But in the end, she supposed it hardly mattered. As soon as Camille hung up the phone, her mother would spread the news to Blake and the rest of the family anyway.
She said, “I’m glad, since I don’t have much time to talk.”
“Is anything wrong, Camille? You sound sort of strained.”
Camille grimaced. “I’m not strained. Well, to be honest, I was dreading making this call. Because I expect you’re going to be upset.”
“All right. What’s happened? Is Matthew okay?”
Matthew was incredible. Long before daylight, she’d woken up with his face next to hers on the pillow and they made love again before the sun had ever crested over the eastern mountains. She didn’t know where the man found his energy, and frankly she was wondering where hers was coming from. It was as though being with him energized her whole body and soul.
“Matthew is fine—very busy. It’s me that I’m calling about. I’ve made a deal with Norman—Mr. Kimball. I’m buying the diner from him. We’ll be finalizing the deal in the next day or two.”
A long, long stretch of silence passed before Maureen finally spoke. “I see. Well, I—honestly don’t know what to say.”
Disappointment fell like a heavy weight on Camille’s shoulders. “Why don’t you start with congratulations? That would be the nice thing to do.”
Maureen said, “Your mother isn’t always nice, Camille. I don’t have to tell you that.”
No, she thought, Maureen could be a fierce tiger when you got her riled. But Camille could be just as fierce. And determined.
“I wasn’t exactly expecting well wishes from you,” Camille told her. “But I did want to let you know.”
“Thanks for that much,” she said with plenty of sarcasm, then let out a rueful sigh. “I’m sorry, Camille. I really am. I want to be happy for you. But you know what this means to me. I was hoping—even praying—that you’d be coming home to Three Rivers soon. Everyone here misses you and there’s no need for you to be down at Red Bluff all by yourself. But I guess—you coming back is out of the question now.”
“Yes. My life is here now, Mom. I’ve been trying to tell you and the rest of the family that for a long time. But you’ve all had this crazy idea that I was down here pining away instead of actually doing and living.”
“Yes, but a diner, Camille. You’re going to be sinking money into a questionable business and—”
“Mom, this diner has been a profitable business for Norm for more than twenty years and it was a moneymaker long before he purchased the place. If I do things right it’s going to remain profitable. Or don’t you think I can manage things as well as Blake or Chandler or Viv, or—”
“Stop it, Camille!” she interrupted. “This has nothing to do with your brothers or sister. This is about your mother voicing her concerns about the choices you’re making!”
“I’m going on thirty years old, Mom. I have a right to make those choices, even if you disapprove. The way I see it, Red Bluff is an important part of Three Rivers. I want to be here—on this end of things.”
“I want to be happy for you, Camille. I honestly do. But—”
“Then why aren’t you?” Camille interrupted. “Matthew is happy for me. He thinks I’m doing the right thing. I just wish you would believe in me as much as he does.”
There was another long pause and it struck Camille that she’d probably said too much about Matthew. But that was okay, too. She was tired of hiding her feelings and wants and wishes.
“Oh? You’ve been talking to Matthew about this?”
“Of course. He’s living in the house, Mom,” she reminded her. “It’s not like we stare at each other in stony silence.”
“Uh—no, I recall you saying how much you were enjoying his company. Well, at least you have him in your corner.”
Camille very nearly laughed. “You make him sound like a traitor just because he wants me to be happy.”
“No. It’s not that. You just sound so different, Camille. Things are coming out of your mouth that I never expected to hear.”
Camille smiled wanly. “Maybe you’ve just begun to really listen to me.”
She sighed again. “Maybe so. But I’m beginning to wonder if I need to make a trip down there. Do I?”
“No!” she blurted, then pressed a hand to her forehead. Normally she loved for her mother to come for a visit. But she and Matthew could hardly be romantic with Maureen in the house. “I mean, yes, you’re welcome if you want to come for a visit. But everything is fine here. I’m even going to get on a horse this weekend. That ought to make you happy.”
“It does. But Camille, I—”
From the corner of her eye, Camille caught sight of Gideon waving at her. “Sorry, Mom. I’ve got to get back into the kitchen. The noon rush is about to begin.” She made a kissing noise into the phone, then disconnected the call.
“I hated to interrupt you, Camille, but a whole van of people just pulled up,” Gideon told her as she met him at the door.
She grinned at him. “A whole van? That’s music to my ears, Gideon.”
* * *
“Matthew, what in hell is going on down there?”
Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it like he’d just picked up a horned toad from a hot rock.
“I just happen to be working my butt off. What in hell is going on up there?” he shot back at Blake.
A stretch of silence passed and Matthew
used the pause to put a few steps away from the men who were working on a dead water well pump.
“Okay. I apologize,” Blake said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No. Not in that tone of voice,” Matthew agreed, then said, “But forget it. You must be having a bad day.”
“A bad day? Mom just left my office in tears. They were streaming down her face like her heart is broken.”
Concerned now, Matthew walked over and stood beneath the skimpy shade of a Joshua tree. “What’s happened? Has Joe dug up something new about Joel’s death?”
“No. Not that I know of. Dear God, as much as I’d like to have that whole issue settled, I hope nothing turns up right now. I don’t think Mom could handle all of this at one time.”
“All of this?”
Blake cursed under his breath. “Don’t play coy, Matthew! You know what’s been going on! And the fact that you’re happy about it just blows my mind. Mom’s, too, if you want the truth of the matter.”
Matthew clutched the phone. Had the family bugged the Red Bluff house with some sort of video cameras? How else would they know about him and Camille sharing a bed every night? She certainly wouldn’t have told them. Would she?
“I—uh—guess you’re going to have to enlighten me, Blake,” Matthew finally told him. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
After muttering another curse word, Blake said, “That damned diner! That’s what!”
“Oh.” Relief rushed out of Matthew. Being Blake’s right-hand man and helping him run a multimillion-dollar spread was one thing, but making love to his sister was quite another. “Well, what does that have to do with me? Camille already came to the decision that she wanted the diner long before I ever showed up down here.”
“Yes, but you didn’t have to encourage her, did you? She told Mom you were happy about it. Is that true?”
The Rancher's Best Gift Page 11
