Patricia Thayer - Count On A Cowboy

“It’s Rory. Everyone calls him Rory.”

An ache touched deep in her chest. She would have liked to call the man Dad, but her mother had taken that choice away from both of them.

* * *

TWO HOURS LATER, Trent had finished canceling the rest of the wedding services, wishing he could cancel all the curious phone calls from guests, too. He finally turned off the ringer on the house phone, but watched to see if Rory called. Everything else he let go to the answering machine.

When Brooke went into the bathroom, Trent punched in Rory’s number again. He listened to the ringing until it went to voice mail.

“Rory, it’s Trent again. Please call me as soon as you can.” He ended the call as Brooke walked back into the kitchen.

“Did you call Rory again?”

“Yeah, but he’s still not answering,” he told her.

“Are you worried about him?”

Trent shook his head, but he was concerned. What if they’d found Aldrich? The man on the run could be dangerous. “Not the way you think. Rory’s easygoing, but Laurel can get pretty hot when she’s crossed. I wouldn’t want to be Jack Aldrich if she catches up to him. Which I hope she doesn’t since he’s broken the law and might not care how he gets away.”

“Broke the law?”

“Jack didn’t just run out on his wedding, he stole from us. He cleared all the money out of our escrow account.”

She gasped. “Oh, no. He worked for you?”

“The man was the general contractor hired to build several rental cabins for us. Laurel got involved with him. Jack fed her a bunch of romantic rubbish and the next thing we knew, the whirlwind romance turned into a quick wedding—” he checked his watch “—that should have taken place about an hour ago. The one good thing is that the wedding didn’t happen.”

Trent stood and walked to the window. He’d already said more than he intended, but soon the news would be all over town. He sighed and looked out, seeing the last of the sun going behind the mountains. Time was running out on what to do about Brooke Harper.

He turned around and she looked up at him with those wide eyes, as if she expected him to tell her something bad.

“Where are you staying in town?”

She looked up at him. “I don’t have a place yet. I drove straight here. Can you recommend a hotel?”

He’d seen her old car and knew she probably didn’t have much money to waste. Even knowing Brooke’s news could change the Quinn family forever he couldn’t send her away. Besides, he wanted her to stay close, especially because of the possibility she was Laurel’s sister.

“I know of a place,” he said. “That is, if you don’t mind the sparse furnishings.”

She wrinkled that cute nose. “How sparse?”

“Oh, the place has a nice bed and a table and chairs, but no cable or HBO.”

“I can afford a little more than basic.”

“But they’re ten miles away in town. I can promise you this place is clean—in fact, it’s brand-new. We just finished our first hunting cabin. I can get you some towels and sheets and a coffeepot, but that’s about all.”

“You mean stay here at the ranch?”

With his nod, she hesitated. “How do you think the Quinns will feel about that?”

“If you’ve been honest about why you’re here, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

A sudden look came over her face and he caught a slight resemblance to Laurel. Or had he just talked himself into seeing something?

“As long as it has electricity, the place sounds perfect to me,” she told him. “How much?”

“No charge for the first night. Then when Rory gets back, hopefully tomorrow, he’ll make a decision about lengthening your visit.”

Brooke’s gaze darted from his. “I’m not planning on staying that long. I only wanted to see Laurel.”

“I’d rather you talk with Rory first, especially since as far as I know, Laurel hasn’t been told anything.”

“All right, I promise not to say anything until I talk to Rory.” She smiled. “And thank you for letting me stay here.”

He sighed. “Now that’s settled, let’s eat some of the wedding supper. Seems someone should enjoy it.”

He went to the refrigerator and took out containers of chicken breasts and scalloped potatoes. There were rolls and sides of green beans and asparagus.

He was suddenly hungry, realizing he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. What about Brooke? When was her last meal? His gaze scanned her slender frame. She’d worked hard, too.

Yet, he got the feeling she was leaving a lot out of the story about Coralee. Or was it her nervousness from finally meeting her half sister? And if true, how would Laurel take this? She and Diane had always been close. Would this news change that?

He knew his way around the Quinns’ kitchen, having grown up here over the years The place had been like a second home for him and his brother, Chris. So much had changed since those days. His brother was gone, his parents had divorced and his father had passed away. And he’d finally come back home to exorcise the ghosts. That was still a work in progress.

He took down two plates from the cupboard and filled them with food, then put one in the microwave. Ten minutes later he was seated across from Brooke.

“This is delicious,” she told him.

“I agree. Bill and Bess are the best cooks in town. They also own a diner, the B&B Café, off Main Street. If you’re around long enough, you should stop by.”

He cut his chicken and ate a piece. “It’s just down-home cooking, but good. I’ve eaten enough MREs over the years to appreciate the real stuff.”

She stopped eating. “You were in the military?”

Nodding, he swallowed. “Over a dozen years in the army, Special Forces.”

“Were you deployed?”

A sudden sadness came over him as memories flashed in his head. “Three times. When my father passed away, I decided it was time to opt out so I came back and took over running the ranch.” He owed Wade Landry that much.

He looked at her to discover her watching him. Those emerald eyes were dark with emotion. “I’m glad you made it back home.” She swallowed and said in a raspy whisper, “Thank you for your service.”

When he’d been in uniform, he’d heard the words many times, but he felt her sincerity. He nodded, then looked down at his plate. His food was cold, and so was his appetite. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

She fought a yawn. “You piled a lot of food on our plates. Maybe I can save mine for later. Is there a microwave in the cabin?”

“Yeah. I’ll wrap it up for you to take it.” He stood and picked up her plate, found the foil and busied himself putting her food together.

This woman was getting to him, and that couldn’t happen. He didn’t know her at all, and that meant she was off-limits.

So keep your hormones in check. Your first and only job is to protect the Quinns.

From his experience, trouble came in all kinds of packages, especially tall, slender blondes with big emerald-green eyes that could turn a man inside out.

He glanced over his shoulder. Not going to happen.

* * *

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Trent pulled his truck in front of the recently completed log cabin. He climbed out and turned on a flashlight to find his way to the front door. He inhaled the scent of fresh-cut wood.

Maybe bringing Brooke here was a bad idea. She would be out here all by herself. Not that he should have to worry about her, but he did. After unlocking the door, he swung it open, reached inside for the switch and flipped on the lights. The small porch was illuminated and he waited for Brooke as she parked her compact next to his vehicle. She got out and reached into the backseat for a duffel bag, then walked to him.