Читать книгу Jackson Hole Valentine - Cindy Kirk, Cindy Kirk - Страница 9

“It’s good we came when we did.” Ryan glanced around the bar. Dressed like Cole in a flannel shirt, jeans and cowboy boots, the successful attorney appeared ready to kick back and relax. “A couple of hours, we’d be lucky to find a place to stand, much less a table.”

By the time Cole had reached his late twenties, he’d grown tired of the bar scene. But Wally’s Place, a popular Jackson sports bar, had it all: pool, darts, karaoke and, according to Ryan, the best burgers in town.

There was a basket of peanuts on every table and if the rough floor was any indication, tossing the empty shells down was not only acceptable behavior, but encouraged. Their waitress was pretty and more than a little flirtatious, but Cole wasn’t interested. He had more important things on his mind tonight.

“What do you think the odds are she’ll walk away?” Cole took a bite of his burger then washed it down with club soda.

“I don’t know Margaret well.” Ryan took a sip of his Guinness. “In fact, I had to have someone at the funeral point her out to me.”

“I feel badly about missing the service,” Cole said. Margaret’s zinger had hit its target and stuck. “I did everything I could to get here.”

“We were supposed to get a dusting.” Ryan chuckled. “Instead it was a monster storm. But that’s the way this winter has been. Of course, I don’t think the weather is any different than it was when you lived here.”

A sharp pain shot through Cole’s leg. He winced and took another sip of club soda. The way his leg was hurting, he knew he’d have to ice it and pop some pain pills once he got to his hotel room, making alcohol off-limits.

“Of course, give it five minutes and it will change,” Ryan said with a good-natured chuckle.

Cole couldn’t believe they were discussing the changeable Jackson Hole climate when there were more important issues on the table. He forced a casual tone. “So what do you think of Margaret?”

“‘Wow’ was the first word that came to my mind, followed quickly by ‘hot.’” Ryan shook his head, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice her back in high school.”

Cole experienced a twinge of something that felt an awful lot like jealousy—but couldn’t have been—at the look in his friend’s eyes.

“There were a hundred and fifty kids in our class,” Cole reminded him. “She wasn’t part of our group.”

“But you knew her.” Ryan returned the smiles of the two young women in tight blue jeans walking past their table, before leveling his gaze back on Cole. “Meg? Isn’t that what you called her?”

It had been a slip. He’d been so startled to see her he hadn’t been thinking straight. “We may have talked a couple times.”

Actually, he and Meg had done a lot more than talk. Until he’d discovered that he couldn’t trust her. In a heartbeat she’d gone from being his whole world to being out of his life for good. “What of it?”

“Just that you’d know better than me if she’ll back down.” Ryan cracked open a peanut and tossed the shell to the floor, all the while keeping his gaze focused on Cole. “What do you think? Will she walk away?”

Cole sat back in his seat. He pushed the basket of peanuts closer to Ryan, no longer hungry. “Not a chance in hell.”

Two days later, Meg pulled up to the house Cole had rented just outside of Wilson. According to Ryan, Cole had gotten the mountain home fully furnished at a “great deal.”

She turned off the ignition of her rental car and took a moment to survey the large two-story stone-and-log structure. Cole must have done well for himself over the years. The “great deals” she’d been looking at in Jackson Hole were a tenth this size, barely inhabitable and a fortune to rent.

Her brother and sister-in-law had told her she and Charlie were welcome to stay with them. It was a generous offer, but Meg worried Charlie would get swallowed up in the chaos of five children under the age of seven. Still, it might be her only option if—

A light tap on the car window pulled Meg from her reverie.

Ryan stood outside the car, wearing a ski cap and parka. Coupled with his jeans and waterproof hiker boots, he looked more like a college-age ski bum than a successful Jackson Hole attorney. He clapped his gloved hands together as if trying to keep warm, his breath clearly visible in the frigid air.

Meg smiled. Last night Jackson Hole had been blessed with more snow. The ski resort operators were cheering, and having a thick blanket of the white stuff on the ground made her feel like she was truly home.

Ryan motioned with one hand for her to get out of the car.

Slipping her fur-trimmed hood up, Meg pushed the door open and cautiously stepped out. The road to the mountain home had held a hint of a glaze and she wanted to be certain of her footing.

She glanced around but the attorney appeared to be alone.

“You didn’t bring Charlie with you?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her tone.

“We can talk inside.” Ryan took her arm as they approached the house, giving her additional stability on the slick sidewalk. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Wuss,” Meg teased until a blast of extra-frigid air hit her face. She picked up her pace and this time it was Ryan’s turn to laugh.

“I was looking forward to seeing Charlie.” Meg had thought about him often the past couple of days. She’d even considered having Travis invite Rachel and Derek over. In the end she’d decided against the plan, not wanting to do anything that might jeopardize her chance for custody.

“I thought it’d be best if the boy wasn’t around when we hashed out the details.” Ryan tightened his grip on her arm as they navigated the steps to the front porch.

“You didn’t want him traumatized by the yelling and screaming?” Meg said with a wry smile.

“I’m not anticipating any of that.” Ryan reached around her to press the doorbell. “You and Cole are rational adults who want only what’s best for Charlie. Having you two at each other’s throats would only increase the child’s stress.”

Meg had to grudgingly agree. Although the image of being at Cole’s throat did hold a certain appeal.

Meg pressed her hand against her thigh as the wind whipped at her wool skirt. Thankfully she had tights and boots on today as well as a heavy sweater. “I’ve been looking for an apartment.”

Ryan’s finger jabbed the doorbell again before casting a curious glance her way. “How’s that going?”

“Could be better.” Meg wrapped her arms around herself for extra warmth. “Even the dumps are expensive.”

The attorney punched the doorbell and chuckled. “Welcome to Jackson Hole.”

A brisk breeze slapped Meg in the face. She shivered. “Are you sure Cole is home?”

“I called him on my way here. His knee has really been hurting him.” A frown furrowed Ryan’s brow. “I hope he didn’t fall.”

Remembering Cole’s unsteady gait and his determination to push his limits back in Ryan’s office made losing his balance a definite possibility. Meg’s heart picked up speed. “Since he knew we were coming, perhaps he left the door unlocked.”

She grasped the ornate door handle with her gloved hand and pushed. It opened easily. A flood of escaping warmth washed over them. She hurried inside with Ryan on her heels.

“Cole, are you okay?” Ryan called out, slipping off his cap and stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.

“Just moving a little slow this morning.” Cole hobbled into view on his crutches, the brace on his right knee. He’d ditched the suit he’d been wearing the last time she’d seen him for running pants and a blue long-sleeved cotton shirt.

Meg let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She told herself her racing heart didn’t have a thing to do with him. It was simply that as a rehabilitation professional she saw the signs of a man in considerable pain and facing a long road to recovery.

Slipping off her parka, she placed it in Ryan’s outstretched hand before refocusing on Cole. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Exercises?” Ryan scoffed. “The guy can barely get around.”

“It’s important that he starts strengthening his quads right away.” Although Margaret now spent her time working primarily with stroke patients, her first job had been at a sports-medicine clinic.

Cole’s chin lifted in a defiant tilt. “It’s been a busy week.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Margaret’s experienced gaze took in everything from the way Cole was standing to the lines of strain around his eyes. “Do you have a CPM machine?”

“What’s that?” Ryan asked Margaret, closing the closet door and picking up the briefcase he’d set on the marble floor.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Cole said a bit gruffly. “If you have anything to ask about my rehabilitation, ask me. Why ask her?”

“Because she’s the professional,” Ryan said.

When Margaret saw the blank look on Cole’s face she realized that he had no clue what she did to earn a living, any more than she knew how he could afford a place as expensive as this one.

“I’m a physical therapist,” she said. “I’ve worked with my share of sports injuries. I’m guessing you had an ACL reconstruction. The surgery was somewhere between five and seven days ago—”

“Five.” Cole exhaled a breath. “Right before I left to come here.”

“And the doctor let you fly?” Margaret didn’t even try to keep the surprise from her voice. Most patients were told not to get on a plane for the first two weeks.

“I didn’t see another option,” Cole said. “I heard the news about Joy and Ty right after I’d gotten out of surgery. I wanted to be here for the funeral. Pay my respects.”

His eyes met hers and something unexpected passed between them. She saw her own pain reflected in his and for the first time she realized they shared a common sorrow. In that horrific crash on Route 22, both had lost dear friends.

“I understand,” Margaret said softly. Recent surgery wouldn’t have kept her away, either. “But I’m sure the doctor emphasized that the first week is the most difficult and a critical time for—”

“He said a lot of things.” Cole maneuvered himself into a nearby chair and gestured for them to take a seat. “But we’re here today to talk about Charlie and his needs, not mine.”

Margaret stepped into the large family room, instantly taking note of the hardwood floor and the number of rugs scattered throughout the room.

Safety hazards. She frowned. If he was her patient, the rugs would all come up until he was steadier on his feet. But he wasn’t her patient, so she kept her mouth shut. She contented herself with admiring the rest of the house before taking a seat on a burgundy leather sofa.

From what she could see, the kitchen off to her right held granite countertops and pewter-colored appliances. Over to her left was a study with French doors, and straight ahead a large stone fireplace with shelves of books on both sides.

Despite being a large home, the place had a surprisingly homey feel. It was easy for Margaret to see Charlie playing with his plastic dinosaurs in front of a roaring fire or running up and down the staircase. Or God forbid, sliding down the banister.

But for Cole and his limitations, this home had to be a nightmare.

“How are you managing the stairs?” The question popped out of Meg’s mouth before she could stop it.

“I’m not.” Cole repositioned his leg on the ottoman by picking it up and moving it with both hands. “Thankfully everything Charlie and I will need is on this level.”

“You’re not driving yet.” It was a comment, not a question.

“I’ve found a good car service,” Cole said. “Very responsive.”

She wondered if he planned to use the car service to transport Charlie to school. Had he even begun to consider any of the dozens of things that had to be done to keep a household running? Duties and tasks which required two fully functioning legs? “I can’t imagine how you’ll manage—”

“How’s the apartment hunting coming?” he asked, cutting her off.

“It’s coming.” Margaret straightened in her seat and smoothed her plaid skirt with the palm of one hand. “I expect to find a place any day now.”

He smiled and it was as if the sun had broken through the clouds. “If anyone will try to make this work it will be you.”

A compliment? From Cole? Startled, Margaret wasn’t sure how to respond.

Thankfully Ryan stepped into the conversational void.

“We can get into those specifics in a bit.” The attorney lifted his briefcase onto the log-and-glass coffee table. “I’d first like to know what your respective attorneys had to say about the enforceability of the joint-custody stipulation in the will.”

“Way to jump right in there, Ry.” Cole shifted his gaze from Margaret to the attorney. “Before we get started, would either of you like a cup of coffee? Of course, you’ll have to get it yourself.”

Margaret started to say no but then the deep, rich aroma hit her nostrils. “It smells delicious.”

“It’s one of our signature blends,” Cole said. “Umakkamecrazy.”

Margaret’s brows slammed together. “I do what?”

Ryan laughed heartily. “How appropriate.”

She cocked her head, feeling as if she’d come late to a party and everyone knew the joke except her. “I don’t understand.”

“Cole owns Hill of Beans,” Ryan explained.

Margaret was familiar with the chain of coffeehouses. There was even one in Omaha, not far from her apartment. She shifted her gaze to Cole. “Is that what you do? Have a franchise in Austin?”

“Something like that,” Cole said.

“Actually, he owns the whole company,” Ryan said. “Tell her your success story. Local boy makes good and all that.”

Cole shot Ryan a warning gaze. “I’m not a trick pony that will perform on command.”

“Duly noted,” Ryan said, appearing not at all repentant. “Tell her anyway. It’ll be a good way to update her on what’s been going on with you since high school.”

Cole knew his friend too well. Ryan was like a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t move on until he got his way. Cole shifted his gaze to Meg.

“I earned a degree in entrepreneurship from the University of Texas then opened my first coffee shop shortly after graduation,” he said matter-of-factly. “We now have forty franchises in seven states.”

“But not one in Wyoming,” Ryan interjected.

A smile played at the corners of Cole’s lips. “Not yet.”

Meg’s heart dropped. Instead of finding the rags-to-riches story inspiring, all she felt was depressed. And scared. No wonder Cole had attorneys at his disposal and could afford to rent a house like this without batting an eye.

“I think I will take you up on your offer,” Ryan said to Cole. “I’d love some coffee.”

When the attorney made no move to get up, Meg rose to her feet. “I’ll get it.”

Cole leaned back in his overstuffed chair like a sovereign on his throne. A rich king who could have anything he wanted… including a little boy who needed a mother.

A little boy who needs me.

The fact that after all these years it took only one look from Cole’s baby blues to make her heart skip a beat made Meg even angrier. At herself. At the situation. At him.

“Thank you,” he called out when she reached the doorway to the kitchen.

“No thanks necessary.” She turned and shot him an imperious gaze. “I don’t want to see you fall and have to pick up the pieces.”

Pick up the pieces. Like he was some loser who couldn’t pull his own weight.

Cole fumed as Meg disappeared into the kitchen, her boots clicking on the hardwood.

He resisted the urge to call her back, to tell her to keep her hands off his coffee. But that would be childish, so Cole kept his mouth shut and spent the next few minutes listening to Ryan discuss current ski conditions. Not that Cole would be out on the slopes anytime soon.

Still, it beat worrying about how he was going to care for Charlie and wondering what he’d done to make Meg so bitter.

She returned moments later with a tray holding a carafe of coffee and three mugs. It didn’t surprise him that she’d remembered to bring the cream and sugar. She’d excelled at anything she’d set her mind to do. Unlike him, who’d struggled through life for years.

When she bent to place the tray on the coffee table, he reluctantly admitted that the plaid skirt and green sweater suited her coloring. He even liked the way she’d pulled her hair to one side with a large tortoiseshell barrette.

Cole glanced down at his shirt and running pants. Ryan had told him the meeting today would be casual. Either Meg hadn’t received the message or she’d decided to dress up anyway.

Ignoring his gaze, she filled a cup with the steaming brew then handed it to him, her fingers accidentally brushing against his.

A spark of electricity traveled up Cole’s arm. His gaze shot to hers to see if she’d felt it, too. But she’d already turned away to fill Ryan’s cup.

By the time she sat down, Cole’s leg had begun to throb and all he wanted was to get through the discussion and ice his knee.

“My attorneys say the will is well crafted and completely enforceable.” Cole shifted his gaze to Meg. “I assume that’s what you discovered, as well.”

“Unfortunately yes.” Meg’s lips pressed together for several heartbeats. “I still can’t understand what Joy and Ty were thinking, but it is what it is.”

“Which means we’ll have to come to a consensus on how to split custody,” Cole said. “For now at least.”

“For now?” Meg asked.

Cole took a sip of coffee. “Until I discover a way to obtain sole custody.”

“I don’t understand.” Meg placed her cup down with a clatter. “Even your attorneys said the terms of the document are completely enforceable.”

“I crafted it carefully,” Ryan said in a defensive tone. “There is no way around the stipulations.”

“Perhaps.” Cole raised the mug to his lips. “But I learned long ago that everything is not always as it appears. Given time I will find a way to obtain sole custody. I feel it’s in Charlie’s best interest to have a single stable home… and I can assure you that home will be with me.”