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HE BLUSHED.
Mari watched, transfixed, as a crimson flush appeared from beneath the crisp collar of his blue cotton plaid shirt, crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks. Her eyes met his. She battled the impulse to lower her gaze.
He swallowed. He removed his cowboy hat and placed it over his heart in a humble gesture. “I apologize. I assumed you were Sage.”
She frowned. He said things like that to his brother’s fiancée?
As if reading her thoughts, he held up his free hand in an appeasing gesture. “It’s a thing with us. She enjoys teasing me about my rowdy cowboy days and my past reputation of being the biggest flirt in the county. Just living up to her image of me.”
He quirked an eyebrow at the jar in her raised hand. “Throw that at me, but I’m guessing Sage wouldn’t appreciate the mess. Or the smell.”
She followed his amused glance to the jar of pickles she held in a tight grip. Her hand shook a little. Aftershocks of her fright. She released a breath, placed the jar on the counter and took a few steps backwards until she bumped into the cupboard door. She stared at him, hands clasped behind her back to hide their tremors.
He tilted his head to one side, his grey eyes sweeping across her face, the taut set of her mouth, her clenched jaw. “I understand why you might find me a little intimidating,” he said in a low, soft voice. “We didn’t start things on the right foot. You scared the heck out of me, you know. I wasn’t expecting to find a girl sleeping in my barn on Christmas morning. I didn’t know the reasons for you hiding there. My first worry was for my horses.” One corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a wry grin. He sounded abashed as he admitted, “I was lucky to escape that barn alive. You can sure fight.”
The soothing, almost crooning tone of his words mesmerized her. It was as though he were speaking to an injured animal or a frightened child. As he spoke, he took a few steps away from the counter, his hands relaxed at his sides, everything in his demeanor showing he wasn’t there to harm her.
Her tension eased a little, but her wariness of him lingered. A tiny voice inside her head reminded her of her plan to apologize to him. This was a good time; there wasn’t anyone to overhear. Yet, she couldn’t speak.
Frustration coiled in her veins, directed at herself. She hated displaying weakness in front of this man; she hated this inability to find her own voice. Too many years of having her voice ignored had her acting like a quivering coward.
Travis must think she was weird, and that lowering assumption caught her by surprise; why did she care what he thought?
Whatever he thought of her he kept concealed behind a calm expression. She detected no judgment in his eyes.
“I stopped by to pick up a pie,” he said. “I’m having a few friends over tonight for dinner. Is Sage here?”
Mari shook her head.
He glanced towards the pastry display case under the register counter at the front of the restaurant. “Let’s see what’s available.”
Her eyes trailed after him as he strolled to the front counter and crouched down to study the pies on display. “Oh, good,” he said, sounding pleased. “There’re some chocolate meringues. My favorite. I’ll take one. Can you box it up for me?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Okay.” She hated the tremble in her voice.
Mouth compressed in a tight line, she walked to the front counter. She folded a pie box and set it by the register before leaning down to slide open the display case door. Although she didn’t look at him, she sensed Travis watching her through the glass.
Two chocolate meringues sat on the top shelf; she pointed at one. “This one okay?” She darted a lightning glance at him.
He nodded and smiled.
She placed the pie in the box, careful not to bump the sides. She pushed a few keys on the register. Eyes level with his chest, she said, “That’ll be sixteen dollars.”
He reached in the back pocket of his jeans and retrieved a brown leather billfold. He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. She took it, careful not to touch his fingers. As she put the money in the cash drawer, he said, “Keep the change. Sage doesn’t charge enough for her pies.”
The bell over the front door chimed as Sage walked in.
Mari released an inward sigh of relief.
“Travis! What a nice surprise.” Sage’s face glowed with delight, but concern touched the quick glance she threw at Mari. “What are you doing here?”
“I bought a pie,” he said, his manner relaxed. “A few of the guys are coming for dinner and poker tonight. This is our last chance until calving season ends.”
“I’ve been making chocolate meringues every week just in case you came in,” Sage said, the scold in her voice matching her expression. “You haven’t set foot in here since February.”
He shrugged. “Things have been busy. How’s Danny doing? I heard he caught that bad cold going around.”
Sage played along with his not too subtle attempt to change the subject. “He’s better. Thanks to Shawna’s chicken soup. Whatever she puts in it works miracles.”
“Yeah? Guess I need to catch a cold just so I can try it.”
“And spoil your mother’s track record? She told me you and Spence have never had a sick day in your life.”
Travis chuckled. “True.”
He swung back to the counter to collect the pie box. He tucked it against his side before lifting his hat in a farewell salute, aiming a charming grin at Mari and then Sage. “Well, thank you kindly, ladies. If I don’t get back to the cabin soon, the chili’s gonna burn.”
He headed out the door in long, easy strides, his tall, lean frame drawing Mari’s gaze until he disappeared around the corner.
“Are you okay?” Sage hurried over.
Mari let out a slow breath. “Yes.”
“Did he, uh, say anything to you? About what happened on Christmas morning?”
“He apologized.”
“Oh, good. Maybe he’ll stop in more often now. I’ve missed seeing him sitting at the counter.”
Mari shrugged to cover her agitation. The possibility of seeing Travis Hollister again made her quiver deep inside. Not with fear; it was something else she couldn’t decipher. “I’ll finish cleaning the front,” she said, pivoting away from Sage’s curious eyes.
***
THAT EVENING, OVER the simple dinner of soup and salad Mari had prepared, Jonathan told her Pam wouldn’t be coming back to work. “We both decided she needs to stay home and take it easy.”
Pam was resting on the living room couch. “You decided,” she called out, her voice teasing. “If you had your way, I would have had to stop working the day we found out I was pregnant.”
“True,” Jonathan said without compunction.
“Don’t worry, Mari. I’ll only be out for three months after Button is born. You should expect me back around mid-August.”
“I’m not worried,” Mari said with forced reassurance.
“We might as well carry our dinner into the living room,” Jonathan said, nodding at their plates. “Instead of chattering back and forth. You sound like a pair of magpies.”
They moved into the living room. Jonathan sat on the floor near the head of the couch close to Pam. As Mari settled into the armchair, Pam asked how her day had gone holding down the fort at the café.
“Not too bad,” Mari said. “About a dozen customers.”
“No issues with the griddle?” Jonathan asked.
“No. But I found some spilled pickle juice in the cupboard next to it.”
He looked baffled for a second. Then he grinned. “I had some trouble getting the lid on the jar this morning. My hands were shaking so bad.”
His wife patted the top of his head. “You were more scared than I was.”
He made a scoffing sound as he reached up to clasp her hand.
Mari couldn’t help thinking of Travis’s admission she’d scared him. He’d been on her mind since he left the café. “Travis Hollister came in today,” she said. Then she bit her tongue; she hadn’t planned to share that news.
The couple stared at her. Then Pam grinned. “Did he leave the café unbitten and unbruised?”
“You’re hilarious.”
“What did he want?” Jonathan asked.
“A chocolate meringue pie.”
“And?” Pam asked, eyebrows raised.
“And he apologized for what happened on Christmas morning. He said I scared him.” Mari allowed a smile as she recalled the humble expression on his face when he made that confession. “I don’t know if I believe him.”
“I would,” Jonathan said. “He’s an honest man. And he worried some harm had come to his horses. Those animals are his lifeblood.”
Curiosity about Travis took a firmer hold of Mari. She didn’t know much about him, other than what happened during their first encounter, and that he was Spence’s younger brother.
She’d met Spence. He usually came in for coffee and pie most Wednesday mornings with his ranch foreman and the Tanner brothers. His other visits were random. Once, Mari walked in on him stealing a kiss from Sage in her office. He was a nice man. Tall, dark and handsome too. Although that didn’t matter much to Mari; the best thing about him was his clear adoration for his fiancée. Sage was a lucky woman.
Mari wondered if Travis was as nice as his brother. “What does he do for a living?” she asked in a casual tone.
“He breeds and raises quarter horses,” Pam said. “Sometimes, people bring their colts to him to start. Last year, he held clinics to show other horse owners how to train their horses the right way.”
Mari didn’t know much about horses. “I remember how clean his barn was. It looked new.”
“I helped him build it,” her cousin said. “He sinks every penny he has into that outfit. You should see the indoor arena. It’s a work of art.”
“Can’t say the same for his house,” Pam said. She turned to Mari. “It’s a small cabin. I think it’s the original one built on that land over a hundred years ago.”
Her husband shrugged. “That’s the last item on his list. His horses come first.”
“I bet work has been a little stressful for him since Willie left,” Pam said. “He’s been doing everything himself the last few months.” She appeared lost in thought for a minute or two, her fingers playing idly with Jonathan’s long rope of straight black hair. Then her face lit up. “What he needs is a wife. A good, strong ranching woman who can work alongside him. And make sure he eats. He’s getting too skinny.”
“Don’t meddle.”
“Let’s see... Who in Sweet Grass County would make a good wife for Travis?”
“He never struck me as the type to settle down,” Jonathan said. “Didn’t you tell me he’s gone out with every single gal in the county at one point or another?”
“Just about.” Pam’s tone turned a little sheepish. “Back in eighth grade, I imagined myself in love with him. But he never asked me out. He said I was like a sister.” She turned to Mari. “That’s one issue going to such a small school. There were twenty kids in the whole school. We were like a family. Things got a little better when we all started high school in Big Timber. About a hundred kids attended during my time there. This year, I heard there’re close to two hundred.”
Mari thought of the overcrowded public schools she’d suffered throughout her school years. “I wouldn’t have minded going to a small school.”
She heard the wistfulness in her voice. Not wanting to elaborate on her remark, she grabbed her plate and stood. She reached for Jonathan’s plate. “I’ll go wash the dishes.”
Jonathan held onto his plate for a few seconds when she tried to take it from him, compelling her to look him in the eye. “Thanks for making dinner,” he said. “That was delicious.”
She was growing accustomed to his praise. He and Pam seemed to have made it their mission to compliment her on at least one thing every day.
“You’re welcome,” she said in a diffident tone.
Deep inside, she glowed. A tremulous smile touched her mouth as she left the room.
As she stood over the sink, hands submerged in warm sudsy water, she wondered about Pam’s notion that Travis needed a wife. So, he was a single man. One who worked too hard and didn’t have a wife to care for him, cook his meals and keep his house in order. What would it be like living on a horse ranch? She lost herself in wondering until the water turned cool.
***
THINGS WERE HECTIC the following week. Mari survived her Friday, Saturday and Sunday shifts at the café and the curious stares from customers. She did her best to respond to their friendly overtures, but her words sounded stilted to her own ears. Over those three nerve-wracking days, she mixed up several orders, dribbled tomato soup down the front of Viv Jacobsen’s dress, and tripped over her own feet, dropping a tub of dirty dishes with a crash that brought a hush over the room.
Squeak Farris got up from his stool at the counter to help her pick up the dishes. Someone else helped too, a good-looking cowboy with curly black hair and a friendly smile. He introduced himself as Chey. She mumbled a greeting before scurrying to the kitchen where she stood hunched over the sink for almost ten minutes until her tremors subsided.
Sage was out delivering some pies to a customer in Harlowton. But Danny, Sage’s teenage brother, was helping at the café that weekend. When he noticed Mari’s obvious distress, he offered to take over waiting the tables. “Anything’s better than washing pots and pans,” he said to lighten her mood.
He was a good kid. Mari knew the story of how his sister moved to Hollister from Boston to save him from going down a wrong path. If only someone strong and determined like Sage had been around to rescue Mari when she was a kid...
“Stop it,” she muttered to the empty kitchen. “Get your act together.”
No one mentioned Mari’s slip-ups. When Sage locked the door on Sunday afternoon, she said, “Great job this week, Mari. Business is picking up. We couldn’t have managed the rush without you.”
Later, as Mari was ready to leave, Sage handed her an envelope. “Your week’s pay. Thanks again.”
The envelope seemed thicker than usual; Mari lifted the flap and peeked inside. She sent her boss a puzzled glance.
“That’s your tip money,” Sage said.
“Someone gave me a tip? I was horrible.”
“A lot of customers gave you a tip. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone here wants you to succeed. Another few weeks, when the tourists flock in, I bet your tips will triple.”
“They just felt sorry for me,” Mari said with doubt. “These are pity tips.”
Frustration was clear in the sigh that escaped Sage’s lips. She appeared on the verge of saying more, but she caught herself. “Enjoy your days off, Mari,” she said with a cheerful wave before retreating to her office.
Mari felt small. She knew Sage was only trying to help. They all were. Jeff was in prison. None of the people who’d hurt her in the past knew where she was. She was in a safe place with kind, caring people. It was time she stopped allowing fear and distrust to control her life.
Outside, the sun was shining. April was here, and it came with what she’d overheard Squeak call a chinook wind. It blew down from the Crazy Mountains, dry and warm, melting the snow and filling the air with a pure, spring-fresh scent. In the near distance came the rushing, rumbling sound of Sweet Grass Creek.
She stood in the gravel parking lot between the café and Wyatt’s Saddlery and tilted her face to the clear blue sky. She dragged in a fortifying breath.
Maybe she could find one brave thing each day to challenge herself. On Sunday afternoons, she’d fallen into the habit of staying in her bedroom to read or sleep, giving Pam and Jonathan time on their own to relax after the workweek. Jonathan wasn’t relaxing much these days, though; he still had a lot to accomplish before the baby arrived.
Struck with a sudden idea, Mari pointed her feet to the mercantile across the street, determination in her brisk steps.