Читать книгу Her Montana Twins - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Brody parked his truck in front of his cabin, turned off his engine and dragged his hands over his face as if smoothing out his thoughts.

All the way back to the ranch he had been thinking about what Dylan had said about David. When he heard Hannah was planning the fair, he was the one who had pitched the idea to his buddies at the fire station to set up a booth. All so he could find a reason to go talk to her.

When Rusty told him that Hannah was the secretary of the Time Capsule Committee, he thought this was another opportunity.

Then Dylan had told him what he had about David and once again Brody felt he was wasting his time.

He looked over at his parents’ house perched up on the hill. His father had built it for his mother after they had talked about expanding the ranch. Brody had been dating a girl he met in Bozeman and he thought things were getting serious between them and he and his father started making plans for the future. Trista was perfect in every way. Young. Pretty. Loved the ranch. Loved horses. Loved him. Or so he’d thought until her old boyfriend came back into town and she started pulling away. Brody had no desire to play second fiddle to anyone, so they both decided it was best if they broke up.

His mother had been more brokenhearted than he had been. Which made him wonder just how much he had cared for Trista.

He had dated a couple of girls since then but nothing seemed to take. Somehow, in some twisted part of his mind, he compared every woman he ever met to Hannah.

Then David died.

Brody had bided his time, giving her space, and thought maybe now was the time. He had figured wrong.

Brody got out of the truck, a chilly breeze fingering down his neck. Fall was coming and with it the work of gathering the cattle.

He stepped inside his cabin and dropped the mail he had picked up on a table just inside the door. He was about to leave again but took a moment, looking around the interior, trying to see it through others’ eyes.

Hannah’s eyes?

It was the main ranch house when his parents moved here, but the family had only lived here until a new, larger home was built. When Brody graduated high school, he’d moved back here, preferring to have his own place. Though he had spent a number of years away from Jasper Gulch, traveling, he always knew he would come back to the ranch to stay. For the past six years this cabin had been his home.

An old leather couch, chair and love seat, all cast off from his parents, crowded around a woodstove in the living room. Opposite them stood a table with four mismatched chairs parked under a large window overlooking the ranch. The kitchen area was to his right. It had a few cabinets and a fridge and stove, also taken from his parents’ home when they upgraded and renovated the main ranch house. Between the dining and living area was a hallway leading to two small rooms and a bathroom/laundry room.

For a moment he wondered what Hannah would think of this house.

He caught himself and stopped that thought before it had a chance to take root. He had to be practical, and Dylan’s comments about taking on the twins and the ensuing responsibility were a reminder of what came with Hannah. The history he would have to compete with. Besides, Hannah didn’t seem very interested.

He left to see where his father was. He strode up the graveled walk to his parents’ house, a two-and-a-half-story home built into a hillside and surrounded by pine trees.

He knocked on the large double doors, then, without waiting for an answer, walked inside. The open foyer was piled with old boots, clothes and boxes of various sizes. All evidence of an ongoing cleaning operation his mother had undertaken in the past few months but was having a hard time finishing. He toed off his boots and dropped his hat on top of a pile of boxes labeled Jennifer and Sophia. His sisters who were both living in Denver.

His mother sat at the eating counter of the kitchen to the right of the entrance, hunched over her iPad, her elbow resting on the granite countertop, supporting her chin.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked, looking past her to the open living room that took up most of the house. His father’s leather recliner, sitting on one side of the rock-covered fireplace, only held a stack of papers. His mother’s, on the other side, held her latest project, a scarf she had been knitting under Julie Shaw’s tutelage.

“He headed out to check the high pasture,” she said, flicking through a series of pictures. “He took the old ranch truck.”

“He’d better not be moving cows,” Brody said, frowning. His father had recently had a bout of heart issues and though he claimed he was feeling better, Brody didn’t want him doing the hard work he used to.

“Dad said he would wait until Lewis was back, which won’t be until after next weekend.” His mother swiped her finger over the screen of the iPad again, smiling at what she was seeing.

Lewis was their hired hand. He had gone to Helena for the weekend courting a woman he had met at the rodeo held in Jasper Gulch a couple of months ago.

“What are you looking at?” Brody asked, pulling a tall stool up beside her.

His mother sighed lightly and turned the iPad toward him. “Aunt Kirsty sent me some pictures of her newest grandson, Owen.” This was said with a sigh tinged with envy. “The newest of six.” She looked up at him and emitted a second sigh meant to create a hint, but Brody simply patted her on the shoulder and grinned.

“Sophia sounds like she and her guy are getting serious,” he said, hoping to shift his mother’s attention from him to his sister. “Someday they might give you grandkids.”

She looked back at the picture of the chubby baby boy sucking on his fingers wearing a blue-and-white-striped shirt. “So, how was your morning? Did you get your stuff all set up for the fair?” Hopefully the shift in topic meant that was the end of that train of thought. His mother had been getting all nesty lately, dropping hints left and right.

“Yeah. Looks like it will be a big deal. Lots of exhibitors.”

“This centennial sure has made a lot of people busy. The rodeo, the baseball game, the fair.” She sighed and her smile grew wistful. “The Old Tyme wedding next month.”

She angled her head and Brody knew his mother’s mental train had merely taken a short side trip and was back on track.

“Maybe you could participate.” Her tone was teasing, but Brody sensed the hope behind it.

For some reason, his mind immediately went to Hannah, imagining her as a bride.

Really? He shook the thought aside.

“Yeah. Like I’m going to find someone by that time,” he returned with a grin.

“Your father and I met and were married in two weeks,” his mother said. “You’ve got time. Mayor Shaw has a couple of real nice daughters. Pretty, too.”

“Julie is engaged,” he said.

And he was sure Mayor Shaw, a man very protective of his daughters, would not allow Book-it Brody to have anything to do with Faith, his last single daughter. Besides, while Faith was pretty and fun, she didn’t hold any attraction for him.

An image of Hannah slipped into his mind. How she bantered with him. How her eyes had lit up when they’d had that conversation in the café.

“What are you smiling about?” his mother asked.

Brody gave his mother a wry glance. Trust her to catch the tiniest shifts in his mood.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“Well, you better start thinking about my need for grandkids. I want to have them before I’m too old to enjoy them.”

Brody laughed and patted his mother on the shoulder. “Just give me time,” he said. “Things will work in God’s own good time.”

His mother sighed. “I know. I just wish God would let me know when that time will be. So I can start a new knitting project. Julie Shaw just put some new wool up on her website that would be perfect for a baby sweater.”

“Whoa. Stop there,” Brody said. “One step at a time.”

“I know. I’m just nudging you a little toward that first step,” she said, turning back to her iPad.

Brody looked over at the pictures and smiled at the toothless grin of the little boy. Of their own accord, his thoughts shifted to Hannah and her twins.

And on the heels of that came Dylan’s comment about taking on that responsibility. He wasn’t so sure he was ready for that.

* * *

“I’d like to call this meeting to order,” Deputy Cal Calloway announced, glancing over the gathering. Rusty Zidek sat across the table from Hannah, fingering his long, gray mustache as he looked over the agenda in front of him. Abigail Rose sat beside him, frowning at Hannah. “And I would like to thank Mrs. Douglas for agreeing to take over from Miss Rose to be our new secretary. Abigail asked to step down, stating her obligation to the Centennial Committee, but we’re glad she decided to stay with us.”

This netted Hannah a wink from Rusty and a sigh of relief from Cord Shaw. Cal gave her a quick smile of thanks, his blue eyes twinkling at her, then he returned to the agenda.

The meeting was being held in one of the smaller rooms adjacent to the council chambers. As Hannah opened the laptop she used to take minutes for the town meetings, she glanced at the time on the top of the screen.

Hannah had promised her mother she would be home by five. It was three-thirty now and she needed to stop at the pharmacy to pick up medication for Chrissy, whose teething pain still hadn’t settled. Plus, she needed more laundry detergent. And juice and a new mop. Her old one had broken on her as she rushed around the apartment last night cleaning up while the twins were sleeping.

As her mental list expanded, Hannah felt another resurgence of sorrow mingled with anger at David’s death. If they hadn’t gotten married so quickly she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and she wouldn’t be rushing around right now juggling all these obligations on her own.

Hannah dismissed that thought as quickly as it was formulated. She loved her babies. Fiercely. It was just that she wished her babies had a father and that they could have known David.

Her thoughts were broken off by the door opening. As it had the last time, she saw Brody Harcourt, and her heart gave a little jump. It had been almost a week since he had come into the town hall and somehow, ever since then, he had been on her mind. The fire station was only a couple of buildings away and she had caught the occasional glimpse of him when she returned to her place for lunch. But he hadn’t come back to the town hall since that day.

Then, to her dismay, he pulled out the empty chair beside her and sat down. She gave him a nod of acknowledgment, then dragged her attention back to the flickering cursor on the blank screen. She typed a header for the document. Deleted it and started again when she realized her fingers were on the wrong keys. Seriously, she had to get her head in the game. It wasn’t as if Brody was new in town and they had just met.

No, but it was the first time since David’s death any man had shown interest in her.

And you shut him down.

And so she should have. She was a widow with two children who required all her time and attention. And Brody Harcourt was the kind of man who liked to take risks. Not the kind of person she should be attracted to.

She swallowed and focused on Deputy Cal Calloway, who was making a few additions to the agenda. Hannah started typing, mentally sorting and filtering what needed to go in the minutes from what was being said.

“The first item we need to deal with is if we need to do anything more with this note we received.”

“Which note is this?” Brody asked.

“I’ll bring you up to speed, Brody,” Cal said, spreading a piece of paper in front of him. “Cord received this letter a while back. We’re not sure what to do about it.” He rested a hand on the table as he looked down at the paper. “It says, ‘If you want to know what happened to your time capsule, you need to think about L.S.’ Now, we aren’t sure who L.S. is, but we have a suspicion it might be Lilibeth Shoemaker.”

“How did you get the note?” Brody asked.

“It came anonymously to Abigail,” Cord spoke up. “Sent in a dirty envelope. No return address. No idea who brought it.”

“Me and the mayor asked Olivia to look into what was in that time capsule,” Abigail put in, looking self-important. “And we both thought we should keep an eye on Lilibeth.”

“So now we need to decide what to do about this,” Cal said. “As you know, the sheriff’s office is stretched thin, so we’re hoping this committee could help us with this.”

“I say we confront her,” Abigail said, inspecting her electric-blue nails, her glasses glinting in the bright lights of the meeting room. “She was pretty angry about losing that beauty contest. I’m sure she did it to get even and she needs to know you can’t steal stuff belonging to the town.”

“Now, Abigail, we don’t know for sure she is a suspect in spite of her being upset,” Cal admonished her. “And whoever sent this note wasn’t ready or willing to show his or her face. It could just be someone who has an ax to grind with Lilibeth.”

“Or it could be someone who knows something,” Abigail pressed.

Rusty leaned forward, looking over at Brody. “Say, Mr. Harcourt, I noticed at the town hall the other day that Ms. Shoemaker seemed mighty interested in you.”

Hannah was surprised at the twinge of jealousy Rusty’s comment gave her. And why she should even feel that way.

She thought of their conversation in the café last week. How, for a moment, she had felt it again. That slow curl of attraction she hadn’t felt in years.

Brody created a completely different set of emotions that made her feel as if she was being unfaithful to David’s memory.

“She’s a flirt, that’s all,” Brody said, his voice disinterested.

“She’s never flirted with me,” Cord said, grinning as he leaned forward to look past Hannah at Brody.

“Maybe it’s because I’m a romantic, whereas you’re a hardened bachelor who doesn’t believe in love,” Brody retorted. “Which makes me wonder why you’re on that Old Tyme Wedding Committee.”

“It’s because I’m a hardened bachelor,” Cord said with a laugh. “I can view things objectively.” Cord looked back down at the note in front of him, then over to Brody again. “As for Lilibeth, I think you should capitalize on her interest in you. Maybe see if you can find out what she knows. Turn on that Harcourt charm.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Abigail said, suddenly coming to life. “You could cozy up to her. Find out what she’s been up to. You’re a good-looking guy, she’d be interested in you.”

“I dunno about the good-looking part,” Cord drawled. He gave Hannah a little nudge with his elbow. “We need a second opinion. What do you think, Hannah? Would you be interested in a guy like Brody?”

Hannah could only stare at Cord, her mind going blank as she struggled to think what to say.

“I’m—I’m not Lilibeth Shoemaker, so—so I can’t—can’t say.” She clamped her lips on her stammering response and turned her attention back to the laptop in front of her, wishing her cheeks didn’t feel so warm. She was sure she was blushing.

“I think we should follow through on the note,” Rusty said, folding his gnarled hands over each other, his eyes narrowing as his piercing gaze moved to each member of the committee. “See where it takes us.”

“I’m not going to flirt with Lilibeth,” Brody said, a note of finality in his voice. “It’s not fair to her because I’m not even interested in her.”

His adamant tone created a surprising serenity in Hannah and his “not interested” comment, a tremble of hope.

“And we all know that Book-it Brody doesn’t look back or go where he’s not wanted,” Cord said with a hint of a smile. “Too proud.”

“But Lilibeth is the only one in town we know of with the initials L.S.,” Abigail continued, obviously not willing to let this go. “And what was she doing at town hall?”

Hannah assumed the question was addressed to her. “She was asking about the Miss Jasper Gulch contest,” she said. “She claimed it was rigged and wanted to find out more about it.”

“See. There you go. She’s snooping around. She’s hiding something.” Abigail slapped her hand on the table as she turned to Brody. “I think you’d better check her out, Brody.”

“I have a better idea,” Cord said, his drawl deepening. “Why don’t we get Mr. Harcourt and Mrs. Douglas to speak with her together. That way she won’t be suspicious and it would satisfy Brody’s tender sensibilities.”

Brody shook his head, wondering what Cord was up to. “I don’t know about that, either—”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Rusty cut into Brody’s protest, granting Hannah and Brody an avuncular look. “Why don’t you two take her out for coffee in the next couple of days. Feel her out about the time capsule. It’d be better if the two of you do it. Like Cord said, she won’t be as suspicious.”

“I agree,” said Deputy Calloway before Hannah could lodge her own protest. “We need to deal with this note, and this is the most discreet way to find out if Lilibeth has anything to do with the disappearance of the time capsule. Now, let’s move on to the next item on the agenda.”

Hannah’s fingers automatically typed the words as the meeting went on, but the entire time she typed she was aware of Brody sitting beside her and the “date” they were supposed to arrange.

Looked as if she didn’t have much choice. Spending time with Brody was probably not the best idea. She would simply have to remember that in spite of her feelings for Brody, she was a mother first and foremost.

Her thoughts flipped back to the conversation she had overheard between Dylan and Brody.

Brody’s job had so many risks. She didn’t think he was the kind of man she should allow her heart to follow.