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Montana Homecoming: A Clean Romance (Sweet Home, Montana Book 3)

Page 13

by Jeannie Watt


  “It’s too early for that.”

  “Then why tie your gut in a knot?”

  “Because that’s the way I handle these things.” Cassie carried the box out into the sun and set it with its buddies before stretching the kinks out of her back. Travis was right. She needed to stop creating nightmare scenarios about her job and Rhonda staying, which might mean that she had to leave. She pushed the hair back from her brow, grimacing at the fine grit on her forehead. Too bad they couldn’t have pressure washed first, then hauled stuff. But some of the junk was so rusty it might have welded into one solid tangle if it got wet.

  She turned a slow circle and wondered what on earth Travis was going to do with all this stuff. Some was going back into the barn, some to the landfill. Rosalie had claimed the old wooden barrels for her store, but first they would serve as part of the wedding display.

  Cassie pulled out her phone and snapped a photo, then sent it to Darby with the caption “Does this remind you of anything?”

  The driveway looked very much like Darby’s lawn had looked after they’d hauled all of her belongings outside so that the people who were about to rent her place could move in. There’d been a mix-up with the rental truck company, so her belongings had sat on the lawn for hours before her boyfriend and the truck showed up.

  So many people had stopped, thinking it was a yard sale, and one person offered her so much money for her brass headboard that she’d sold it.

  Cassie dropped her phone into her pocket. She wouldn’t get a reply from Darby until her friend went on break at work.

  Back to Travis.

  He was waiting for her.

  “I’m not trying to boss you, Cassie.”

  Oddly, she hadn’t considered that possibility, which would have been her first thought less than a week ago. Don’t tell me what to do...

  “I know. You’re slipping.”

  The corner of his good eye crinkled attractively. The other eye...well, it was less swollen and now more shades of yellow and blue than black and purple...but it was still too puffed up to mirror its buddy. Maybe that was good, because one eye crinkling in silent amusement was doing a number on her. Imagine what two would have done.

  “Are you heading out to work on the fence again?” She needed to ground herself. Think about...anything...except the unknowns connected to her job and the fact that Travis seemed to be growing more attractive every day. The latter was made all the more difficult by the fact that she’d kissed those gorgeous lips.

  “For a bit. I’ll ride your mare this evening and give you a progress report tomorrow.”

  Cassie pushed some gravel with the toe of her shoe. “I wondered last night if you were still on board for that. I almost brought the horse trailer this morning.”

  “I’m on board.” His gaze was direct, sincere. He hadn’t planned to bail.

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Hey. One less front for you to fight on.”

  Unless the mare didn’t work out, and then she’d have to make some hard choices and possibly take a financial hit.

  “You know,” he said slowly, once again meeting her gaze, “I understand how things can eat at a person. I apologize for telling you to just move on.”

  “I imagine you’re trying to help me skip a step.”

  “I think that might be it,” he agreed.

  An unexpected warmth flowed through her at the thought of him being concerned enough to do that. “Are you working from your own experiences?”

  He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe we’ll have a beer sometime and discuss.”

  But not now.

  Fine. She would accept that.

  “I assume it won’t be in the Shamrock Pub?”

  His mouth curved, creasing his cheeks. “That goes without saying.”

  * * *

  “THE KIDS ARE making headway with the barn?” Rosalie asked as she cut two very thin slices of store-bought chocolate cake. She simply didn’t have time to bake anymore, and truth be told, she didn’t miss it. She’d had her baking years and now she was having her entrepreneurial years. A time for every purpose.

  “The darned thing is almost empty, and the driveway is full of ju...important ranch equipment.” He let out a long breath and he considered the task ahead of him. “Now I have to make decisions about what to put back and how and, well, all that kind of stuff.”

  “Maybe this rain was a good thing,” Rosalie said. “And since we’re going to be ready for rain, maybe we’ll get sun.”

  “I’m sure that’ll make the kids happy, spending all that time cleaning for no good reason.”

  “Clean barn and, as far as I know, they haven’t done one another bodily harm.”

  “True.” Will leaned back to give her room to put the plate in front of him. “Looks good.”

  “I was at the stove all day.”

  He laughed and lifted his fork. She loved that even dusty old jokes like that made him laugh. He was very different than Carl, but different was good. There was no way she could have found another Carl, so she found a Will instead.

  “I was thinking about the kids,” Will said after wiping a few crumbs off his chin with a napkin. “And how they set one another off.”

  “Understatement,” Rosalie said in a low voice.

  “I think that something has changed there—for Travis anyway.”

  Rosalie gave him a sideways look. “Changed how?”

  Will set the fork back on his plate. “I think that Travis might—” he sucked in a breath “—have a thing for Cassie.”

  “A thing? Do you mean feelings?”

  “Maybe.”

  Rosalie put her own fork down. “Oh, my.” She frowned over at Will. “Do you have any evidence?”

  “I’ve been reading the boy for years,” Will said gruffly. “Something is different.”

  “Have you seen them together often?” Because as far she knew, he hadn’t, so what was he basing this on?

  “No. Not since the argument in the barn, but things are different.”

  Rosalie didn’t ask which argument in which barn, because there’d probably been several. “You’re certain this isn’t wishful thinking on your part?”

  Will blew out a breath. “I can’t say that’s not so. Travis isn’t getting any younger and while he’s done his share of dating, no one seems to fire him up like Cassie.”

  “Another understatement,” Rosalie murmured before giving her husband-to-be a thoughtful look. “I wonder how Cassie feels?”

  “That would be an interesting thing to find out,” Will said. “Not that you can just come out and ask her.”

  “No,” Rosalie agreed. “Cassie’s not a big sharer in that regard.” She’d kept her personal life private even when she’d been living at home. Rosalie thought it had something to do with losing her mother at a young age and people encouraging her to share her grief. That wasn’t the way Cassie operated, but they hadn’t discovered that until after the damage had been done.

  Will took another bite of cake. “I guess we’ll have to keep an eye on things. Hope for the best.”

  “I guess,” Rosalie agreed, thinking that Travis might be in for a grandfatherly talk soon.

  “So, if you see Cassie looking all moon-eyed—”

  Rosalie burst out laughing and Will grinned back at her. He reached out and covered her hand with his.

  “Anyway, let’s keep an eye on things. If we see one of them making a tactical error, maybe we can guide them down the right path.”

  “Will...you’re an optimist.” Cassie was never one to be guided. “That said, I would love it if she had a reason to come home more often, so I’m going to keep my fingers crossed that things are different with her, too.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CASSIE GAVE A choked cough as dust swirled around her, then
stopped sweeping to let the worst of it settle. She’d been vibrating with pent-up energy when she’d returned home from the McGuire ranch an hour ago, and, since she was still dusty from cleaning the barn, it seemed like the perfect time to tackle the shed where she stored her old belongings. The bubble gum–pink fake-fur coat, which was now in the donation box, had convinced her that she probably had other items that could be parted with. Her life was in Wisconsin and it wasn’t fair of her to take up space on the ranch with things she was never going to use again.

  At least, she hoped her life was in Wisconsin.

  Cassie attacked the floor with renewed vigor. Travis was right. She needed to let this go.

  She and Rhonda and the school board had made an agreement. She had to move forward under the mindset that all parties would honor that agreement, regardless of what Anna Lee had heard Rhonda say into the phone.

  But she couldn’t help wondering if there was anyone else she could call to get a little more perspective. A friendly school board member? The principal whom she’d defended against serious, yet bogus, accusations last year? Someone who might have more information or a different perspective?

  It wouldn’t look good to be out of the loop and begging for information, especially since it might get Anna Lee in trouble for contacting her in the first place. Her best strategy was to wait for Anna Lee’s next call and assess her strategy when she had more facts.

  “Hey, Cass?”

  She stopped sweeping and went to the door. Katie stood behind the closed front gate with the two little goats peeking out from either side of her.

  “What’s up?” she called back. The air outside the shed was wonderfully dust-free.

  Katie held up her phone. “When will you be done with the barn? Grandma wants to know.”

  “We’re pressure washing day after tomorrow. It’ll have to dry, and we have to figure out what to do with all the junk, but she can look the place over and make plans.”

  “Thanks.” Katie put the phone to her ear and headed back to the house.

  Cassie turned back to the shed, grimaced at the dust still hanging in the air, then decided to call it a day.

  After sweeping the mound of dirt and debris into a scoop shovel and carrying it out to the corral, she returned to prop both broom and shovel against an interior wall. If she had time, she’d start sorting tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Pressure washing might be more involved than she expected. On the other hand, if she and Travis had another day like today, where he was unexpectedly understanding and even concerned about her well-being, she might once again return home with a need to dive into some therapeutic cleaning.

  She headed back into the house, stopping to give the little goats a couple of head rubs. They followed her up the porch steps, but Cassie shook her head apologetically as she took hold of the door handle. “Sorry, guys. You’re staying out here.” Two sets of golden eyes blinked at her, but Cassie remained unmoved.

  Katie was just ending her call as Cassie slipped into the kitchen, expertly keeping Lizzie Belle and Wendell at bay as she closed the door. A few seconds later the goats clattered back down the steps and into the grass.

  Katie tucked her phone into her pocket and reached for a glass of water sitting on the counter. “I’m going to meet Brady in town to look at some better furniture for the manager’s house.” Katie and Brady planned to make the small house across the driveway from the main ranch house their home after they married. “Do you want to come?”

  Cassie glanced down at her dust-covered shirt, but instead of asking if she had time to shower and change, she said, “I think furniture shopping is better left to the people who will be sitting on it.” She wasn’t going to be good company.

  “Brady wants leather. I want something soft and squishy.” Katie set down the glass.

  “What makes you think I’d take your side?” Cassie asked.

  “Because behind your all-business exterior, you’re soft and squishy.” Katie’s eyes danced at the ridiculous statement.

  “Am not,” Cassie replied in mock disgust. “And I really don’t want to get in the middle of this.”

  “Okay, but when I end up with man furniture, I’m blaming lack of squishy backup.”

  “I bet the delivery truck will bring a nice compromise of leather and squishiness.”

  “I hope.” Katie gathered up her jacket from where it was draped over a kitchen chair and pushed her hands into the sleeves. “You know, when you get done with the shed, the basement could use some attention.”

  “See you later,” Cassie said pointedly, gesturing toward the door with her chin.

  “See you,” Katie said on a laugh.

  After her sister’s truck disappeared from sight, Cassie poured a cup of coffee, turned off the pot, then leaned against the counter as she sipped. The house felt empty and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. There was no one there to see if she indulged in job obsession, but there was no one there to distract her from it either.

  The little girls were in town with Rosalie; Nick was installing custom cabinets he’d built into his girlfriend Alex’s kitchen and Cassie needed to find another less dusty project.

  The garden?

  Katie and the girls had been weeding when Cassie left that morning, so probably not. She glanced around the spotless kitchen, then concentrated on the coffee, which was much better than the instant stuff she made for herself because she didn’t want to take the time to make a decent pot.

  Time, time, time.

  When she’d been on the job, every minute of her day had been filled with something and she’d returned home with just enough energy to nuke something for dinner, watch something mindless on TV then fall into bed. Her social life had sucked, and she hadn’t minded one bit.

  What did that say about her?

  Cassie cupped the mug with both hands, savoring the warmth as she considered the answer.

  It said that she found a lot of satisfaction in her work.

  It said that she didn’t care about what she might be missing. Nope. No fear of missing out for her.

  It said that she might have buried herself in her work to keep from thinking about what she was missing.

  The last thought didn’t sit comfortably, but no one was perfect.

  So how was she going to feel living a time-choked solitary existence when she got back?

  Different.

  Another uncomfortable thought that she was saved from considering too deeply by the sound of an engine. She leaned across the table and looked out the window as her brother was pulling into his usual parking spot.

  Funny thing that no one seemed to care that Nick worked his butt off, just as she did. His number one job was fathering his kids, but he also handled the ranch with Brady, did custom work for local contractors and he spent a lot of time in his shop building cabinets. Yet did anyone harp at him about overdoing it? No.

  “Hey,” he said as he opened the door. He stopped before coming inside and brushed some sawdust off the front of his shirt.

  “There’s coffee. I turned off the pot so it wouldn’t burn, but it should still be hot.”

  “Coffee sounds good.” He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the handmade hooks near the door. Small particles of sawdust clung to his dark hair and the back of his shirt—in other words, he looked like he usually did while working on a carpentry project.

  “What are you doing back so early?” She handed him a cup and he took a seat at the kitchen table, while she leaned against the counter.

  Nick had been ridiculously busy finishing an independent contracting job, leaving early and working late. He usually rolled in close to dinner time, then spent his evenings with his daughters, reading and playing games. Cassie often joined in, but there was a limit to how much the two of them could discuss in front of very curious little girls and there were a few th
ings she was curious about—like how serious his relationship was with Alex, the woman next door, whom his girls thought was some kind of a princess.

  Not that she would stick her nose into a sibling’s private affairs and ask nosy questions...but she might hint at the matter since Alex appeared to make both him and his girls happy.

  “My lumber order didn’t come in at Cooper’s Building Supply, leaving me at a standstill, so here I am.”

  “How much longer on the job?”

  “I’m almost done. About a week if this order comes in.” He pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand up. “This is the last time I stack contracts like this. I hate spending this much time away from the kids.”

  “You’ll finish in time to start haying,” Cassie pointed out. “I bet the girls will like riding in the swather.”

  Nick laughed. “Probably. I do prefer jobs where I can take them.”

  “I heard they went with you when you fixed Alex’s house.”

  “Couldn’t keep them away.” Nick smiled, but didn’t bite at Cassie’s subtle tell-me-about-Alex opening. He lifted the cup to his lips and after he drank, he said, “I heard a new story at Cooper’s about how you gave Travis a black eye. It doesn’t match the one you told.”

  “Really?” She reached around to empty the coffeepot into her cup even though she hadn’t planned on drinking any more. “How did Travis get his black eye?”

  She’d shared a slightly edited version with her family the day after the incident, so she didn’t feel as if she had anything to hide. In a town the size of Gavin, there was no way they wouldn’t hear about what had happened that night at the Shamrock, and it was much better for her to get her own story set in their brains before they began hearing the inevitable variations of the truth.

  “You pulled back to throw a punch at Ray and hit Travis in the face with your elbow.”

  “Ah.” Cassie fought a smile as she sat down at the table. “I kind of like that version.”

  “I thought it was colorful.” Nick leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “How are things going in the barn-cleaning area of your life?”

 

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