Delores Fossen - No Getting Over A Cowboy

He encountered no widows along the way, but as soon as Garrett made it to the backyard, he spotted Kaylee. Hard to miss her since she was right there just a few inches from the steps, and she was holding a cicada shell in her hand.

“Boog,” she announced. Clearly, she wasn’t a squeamish kid since the shells always looked a little creepy to Garrett. “Mama twit puking.”

“That’s good.” He heard himself say the words, but it didn’t actually register in his head. But what did register were some bad flashbacks. Bad because they were good. Memories of Meredith being pregnant. Of the ultrasound where he’d first seen his daughter.

Oh, man.

It felt like a punch to the gut, and Garrett had to get out of there. He needed to get behind a closed door so he could stuff all of these emotions back down. No way could he deal with this now. Maybe not ever.

He hurried past Kaylee only to encounter another obstacle. Nicky. She was lugging a suitcase that she’d apparently just taken from her SUV.

“Sorry if Kaylee was bothering you,” Nicky said, and it seemed as if she was about to walk right past him. But then she stopped, maybe because he looked as unsteady as he suddenly felt. “Are you, uh, going to throw up or something?”

Hell. He must have looked really bad. So bad that Sophie took the trash can from him. “I’ll put this stuff in the guesthouse,” his sister offered. She headed that direction, glancing back as if waiting for him to follow. And he would have, but Nicky stepped in front of him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nicky pressed.

“Fine. I’m just busy. How about you? Kaylee said you quit puking.”

She nodded, mumbled something under her breath that he didn’t catch. What she didn’t seem to realize was the effect her daughter was having on him. Thankfully, Kaylee hurried into the house, babbling something about showing off the boog. Too bad Nicky didn’t go with her.

“Yes, the puking seems to have run its course,” she explained. “I told you I didn’t have the stomach for bones, blood and such. Not for puke itself, either, which was why it went on for a while.” Nicky paused, took in a weary breath. “Look, I know we got off to a bad start, but I’m asking you not to fight the lease.”

Even though it was hard to think, Garrett forced away the flashbacks. He managed it, sort of, and came up with one argument he hadn’t given her yet.

“You really want to live in a house where someone died?” he asked.

Nicky shrugged. “Your great-grandfather died there. So did his wife.” She looked reasonably strong about that until she shuddered. “But yes, this does creep me out. It’s one thing to have your great-grandparents die there, but this guy might have been murdered. In boxers with hearts on them.”

Yeah. That’d been disturbing to Garrett, too. “Underpants like that suggest a lover’s tryst.”

She made a sound of agreement. “Or maybe he had bad taste in boxers. Or he could have just run out of clean undies and those were his last option.” She stopped. “But you’re right. It feels tryst-y. Which, according to Loretta, points to your Aunt Matilda.”

“Loretta told you about her?”

She nodded. “While I was puking. It’s possible I missed a word or two of what she was saying, but I caught the gist. Your aunt had h-o-t p-a-n-t-s, and I don’t think Loretta meant they were really short shorts.”

“No,” he had to agree. Even though Garrett had never met his great-aunt, it was unsettling to think she could have killed a man. That “unsettling” wasn’t limited to just her though. “I’m holding out that the guy died of natural causes.”

Nicky smiled. “And here I didn’t think you were a rose-colored-glasses kind of guy.”

Her smile quickly faded. Probably because she remembered there wasn’t much to be happy about. But while it lasted, he got a glimpse of the cute flute player she’d once been. In those days, she’d been a looker. Still was. And Garrett hated to notice that the years had settled nicely on her.

It was definitely time for him to get the heck away from her.

He stepped around her to do just that, but Nicky blocked his path again. “Please don’t fight the lease,” she repeated. “I sold my house to pay for the rent and expenses on this place.”

“You sold your house?” he questioned.

She nodded. “It really wasn’t a home where I wanted to stay. I’d planned on selling it anyway, but I need to give this a try first. I made a promise to these women that they’d have a retreat here on the ranch. I just hadn’t counted on the retreat coming with so many...obstacles.”

She looked him straight in the eye when she spoke that last word. Yes, he was an obstacle to her, but he wasn’t the only one.

“You should know that my mom is playing matchmaker,” he informed her. “That’s the real reason she agreed to lease the place to you.”

Nicky didn’t hesitate in nodding. “I know. That’s also why she hired me to do some legal work for her.”

Garrett frowned. Again, this was news to him. And confusing since they already had a family lawyer. “What kind of legal work?

“She’s redoing her will. Not a standard will, either. It’s complete with elaborate funeral details and her obituary. She says it’ll take weeks, maybe even months to finalize.”

Yeah, definitely matchmaking. He could add another chat with his mom to his to-do list. He had to nip this in the bud before it bit him in the ass. He didn’t want his mother throwing him together with Nicky—and Kaylee.

Nicky lifted the suitcase onto the bottom step, and Garrett didn’t miss the slight grunting sound she made. The grunt got louder when she hoisted it to the next step. With eight more steps to go, she was going to give herself a hernia before she made it to the back door.

Of course, he helped by carrying it up all the steps and onto the porch. Thankfully, the suitcase had wheels so she shouldn’t have any trouble getting it inside. After that, though, she was on her own.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, tipping her head at the clothes he had draped over his arm.

“Moving to the guesthouse. I figure the house will get pretty crowded what with Mom, our housekeeper, a toddler and six widows.”

Nicky got a strange look. A cross between “deer in the headlights” and “oh, crap.”

“About that...” she said.

But that was all she managed before he heard sounds he darn sure didn’t want to hear. Car engines. And they were all converging on the house like some kind of funeral procession. Garrett watched as they drove in one by one, and they just seemed to keep on coming. Trucks, cars and SUVs. Someone even drove up on a motorcycle.

“About that,” Nicky repeated. She opened the back door, pushed in her suitcase. “There are more than six of us.” And she ducked inside.

For a few seconds Garrett was stunned into silence. “How many more?”

“Twelve. Maybe thirteen. Fourteen, tops.” Nicky walked away, repeating the biggest lie of all. “You’ll never even notice we’re here.”

CHAPTER FIVE

IT WAS LIKE a metaphorical intestinal disorder. The widows just kept coming.

When Nicky had first thought of this idea, she’d envisioned a The World According to Garp type of haven for women like her who needed mending. Peace, quiet, space. She had none of those things. And even in a house as big as the Grangers’, it was hard to find a place where she could go and silently scream.

Like now, for instance.

“Two bathroom toilets are clogged,” Loretta reported, reading from a list like the town crier. The woman had a canvas bag filled with heaven knew what looped over her wrist and a small box tucked beneath her arm. “And the Ellery sisters and Lizzie bought the wrong kind of groceries. Did you know they were all vegan when you sent them to the store?”