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“JARRETT,” ADDY TANNER cast her husband a scolding glance. “Ignore him,” she said to Mari. “Sometimes my husband has about as much tact as a five-year-old.”
“Did you have fun at the Grange last evening?” Shawna asked. “You and Chey left so fast afterwards, I didn’t have a chance to say hello.”
Addy clasped one hand to her chest in a gesture of obvious delight. “You and Chey are dating?”
To Mari’s reddening ears, the question seemed to echo throughout the room. She wished she could sink into the floor. “No,” she said. “We’re just friends.”
“Chey’s a hard worker,” Jarrett said. “One of my best hands.”
Mari forced a smile. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll have the usual,” Shawna said.
Addy Tanner ordered a cheese and mushroom omelet. Her husband ordered ham and eggs. Mari filled their coffee cups. “I’ll be back.”
As she walked away, she overheard Jarrett remark, “Not much of a talker, is she.”
His wife shushed him.
Jonathan made a commiserating face when she stopped to clip the order ticket to the holder above the grill. “You okay?”
She rolled her eyes in answer.
Once in the kitchen, she took a few seconds to collect herself. “What’s the deal with Jarret Tanner?” she asked a perplexed Sage. “Is he always so rude?”
“Is he here? They don’t eat here that often. They have a top-notch chef at their ranch. Why? Did he say something offensive?”
Mari repeated the conversation. Sage cringed. “I should’ve warned you. He’s blunt. He doesn’t have many filters. Spence says Jarrett’s a throwback to a different era.”
“Which era would that be? Neanderthal?”
Sage choked on a laugh. “Please don’t take it personally. His heart’s in the right place. Best way to deal with a rough-around-the-edges Montana man like him is throw it right back in his face. They seem to like that.” Her mouth curled in a secret smile.
Mari couldn’t see herself doing that anytime soon. “I was planning to ask the Tanners about a housekeeping job at their ranch. Now, I’m not sure I will.”
“Wait. What? You’re leaving the café?”
“No, no. I mean, if I did, it wouldn’t be until June at the earliest. After the baby’s born and Gunnar is here, and you’re back from your honeymoon.”
“It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.” Sage’s voice held a trace of disappointment, but then she rallied. “Listen to me. I sound so selfish. I’d love for you to continue working here, but I can see it’s been difficult serving tables. But I’m so proud of the progress you’ve made this past week. It’s good to see you opening up.” Her features took on a look that dared Mari. “And, you know something? I’ll be even prouder when you march back out there and ask the Tanners if there’re any job openings left for this season.”
***
WHEN MARI ENTERED THE cabin that afternoon, it startled her to find Travis reclining on the couch reading a magazine. He tossed it aside with an aggravated gesture. “Thought you weren’t coming back,” he said, his voice as scratchy as the two-day-old beard shadowing his haggard face.
“And I thought you’d be in bed.” Her eyes landed on his injured leg propped on two cushions.
“I needed a change of scenery. I could paint every knot on the bedroom walls from memory.”
“Well, since you’re out of bed, I might as well wash the sheets.”
“I can do it myself tomorrow.”
She ignored him. After plugging in Shawna’s crock pot, she walked into the bedroom. “Clean-smelling sheets and pillow cases will help you sleep,” she said in a carrying voice. “From what I hear, you need it.”
When she returned to the front room, her arms full, he said, “I don’t expect you to clean up after me.” Anything further he might have said got lost in a fit of rib-cracking coughs that made her wince. Poor man; no wonder he was grouchy.
“Don’t be so proud,” she said in a scolding tone. “You’re in no condition to do housecleaning.”
A few minutes later, she had the sheets soaking in the washer, and a kettle of water heating on the stove. A small jar sitting on a folded piece of paper beside the microwave caught her eye. She unfolded the paper and read: This is my homemade vapor rub. Make sure Travis rubs it onto his chest before he goes to bed. Keep giving him honey and lemon tea. Here’s my recipe. Don’t let him refuse! Thank you, Hedda.
Mari shot a glance at the couch to see Travis scowling out the window, his jaw set at a stubborn angle. “Shawna made more chicken soup,” she said, keeping her tone bright.
“No offense to Shawna, but I’m mighty tired of eating chicken soup.”
“It cleared your head. Maybe it’ll work on your chest too.”
His irritated sigh expressed his opinion on that, but he said in a grudging tone, “Fine. Put it in a mug. I’ll drink it.”
She filled a mug and carried it to him. “Do you want the tray?”
“No.” A shudder ran through his frame as he accepted the warm mug. He lifted it to his mouth, his nostrils flaring at the waft of steam before he took a sip.
“You’re cold,” she said. “I’ll grab a blanket.” She fetched the down comforter from the bedroom and spread it over him from waist to toes. Then she placed another log on the fire.
The kettle whistled. When she sidled past him towards the kitchen, Travis reached out to clasp her wrist, halting her. His touch was light. “Thanks, Mari,” he said in a gruff tone. “Sorry I’m in a bad mood.”
Her breath caught in her throat; a peculiar sensation fluttered in her chest. “You have every right. This has been a rough week for you.”
“It hasn’t been a week yet. Sometimes, I feel like time has slowed to a crawl. But only when I’m alone.” He squeezed her wrist gently before letting go. “Things don’t seem so bad when you’re... When I have company.”
Booted feet thumped on the porch steps. Knuckles rapped the door before Grady O’Rourke stepped inside the cabin. He tipped his cowboy hat at Mari. “All finished exercising the colts,” he informed Travis. “I’m on the late shift tonight. Was hoping I could get a bite to eat before I nap?” He cast a hopeful, diffident glance at Mari.
“Sure. I’ll heat something for you.” She hurried to the kitchen, glad of the interruption and a task. When Travis had touched her, her feet seemed rooted to the floor. It disturbed her how such a simple touch made her quiver, and not in a bad way.
She removed the kettle from the burner. Then she opened the fridge. Two casseroles remained, and Sage or Hedda had restocked the vegetable bin. Mari scooped some man-sized helpings of sausage casserole onto a plate and popped it in the microwave. Then she threw together a green salad. Meanwhile, she was very cognizant of the murmured conversation between the men.
Once the food was ready, she called Grady to the table. She studied him from beneath lowered lashes while he removed his hat and hung it on the back of the chair before sitting.
He was around the same age as Travis, a bit taller with the lean, muscular build of a man who spent much of the day working outdoors. His hair was a dark chestnut, neatly groomed; he had sky-blue eyes and a gentle smile set in a pleasing face. When she first met him the other day, he struck her as the quiet, almost shy type. But his voice was steady and polite as he thanked her for the meal before digging in.
While he ate, she scanned Hedda’s note once more before preparing lemon and honey tea. From the corner of her eye, she caught Travis watching her. When she carried the steaming cup to him, he crooked one eyebrow. “I’m guessing you’re gonna make me drink that,” he said on a growl.
“Hedda said—”
“Hedda’s not the one struggling out of bed all day to hobble to the bathroom.”
Grady chuckled. Mari giggled. She couldn’t help herself. Travis wore the beleaguered expression of a two-year-old on the verge of a tantrum. “You’ll thank her later when you’re all better. Are you finished with the soup?” She took the empty mug and handed him the tea. “Drink.” She smirked. “There’s a good boy.”
His eyes widened at her sassy remark. “Well, well,” he said. “It’s always the quiet ones.” He winked one glinting eye at her.
Warmth seeped up her neck. She swung away from him to discover Grady looking at them with a bemused expression; his eyes twinkled. She frowned at him and he returned his attention to his food, but not before giving her a teasing wink.
What was it with cowboys and winking? With a huff, she plopped in the chair across from him, arms folded across her chest. “So... You work at the Tanner’s ranch?”
He looked up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you a wrangler, like Chey?”
“Yes, ma’am. Lead Wrangler, as a matter of fact.” His cheeks pinkened, as though he was ashamed to boast.
“Chey told me how much he enjoys his work. How many years have you been there?”
“When did you meet Chey?” Travis wanted to know.
“Last week.” She avoided his sharp gaze.
Grady scratched his jaw. “Well, now, guess it’ll be ten years this summer.”
“You started the summer Tressa turned sixteen,” Travis said. “I was there for her birthday party that first week you hired on, that day she took Mack’s stallion, Regal, for a gallop. Remember? Good thing you had your horse saddled already and headed her off. That could’ve been a disaster.”
A shadow crossed Grady’s face. “I remember.”
“Now I consider her one of the best horsewomen in the Sweet Grass.” Admiration rang like a bell in Travis’s voice.
A weird, biting sensation lodged in Mari’s chest. Who was Tressa? “Chey says the ranch is a great place to work,” she said, eager to return the conversation to its original track.
“I enjoy it,” Grady said.
“I met Jarrett and Addy Tanner at the café this morning. She’s coming back on Wednesday with a job application for me.”
“For what?” Travis asked.
She darted a glance at him. “Housekeeping.”
His brows arched in surprise and then dropped over a clouded expression. His reaction puzzled her; she assumed he’d be pleased she was making plans to remain in Hollister a while longer.
She pulled her eyes back to Grady. “Chey says the housekeeping is hard work, but they include room and board. The pay sounds good too.”
“You can earn more in tips at the café,” Travis said. “Double and triple what you’re earning now once the tourists roll in.”
“I don’t like waiting tables.”
“But you enjoy cleaning toilets and making beds?”
“I’ve done work like that since I was ten. I don’t mind it. Most of it I enjoy.”
“The Tanner’s spread is twenty miles west of here at the end of a rough, mountain road. It can take up to an hour to drive there, and that’s when the weather cooperates. Most of the staff don’t travel to town often.”
Grady’s eyes had ping-ponged between Travis and Mari throughout their exchange. Wry amusement tugged at the edges of his mouth. He pushed his chair from the table. “Time to grab forty winks,” he said. “Thanks for the meal.” He carried his plate to the sink and rinsed it before striding out of the cabin. Mari thought she heard him chuckling as the door shut behind him.
Except for the snap and sizzle of burning logs, the room was quiet. Mari remained in her chair, her eyes affixed on the table surface.
“Two days ago, you were talking about leaving,” Travis said in a low-pitched voice when the silence had become stifling. “What changed your mind?”
“My mind hasn’t changed yet. I’m exploring my options.”
“And cleaning up after rich people is one of them?”
“I clean up after you, don’t I?”
“One, I don’t like you cleaning up after me. Two, I’m not rich. Not on the level of most of the guests at the Tanner’s ranch anyway.”
She swiveled to glare at him. “Chey said there’re some very nice people who stay at the ranch, people who’ve vacationed there for generations.”
“Chey sure said a lot,” Travis muttered. He appeared on the verge of saying more, but a fresh bout of coughing racked his frame. When it passed, he grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table and blew his nose vigorously. Irritation and weariness played across his gaunt features; his forehead glistened with sweat.
Mari fetched the jar of vapor rub during his coughing fit. Now, she stood over him and twisted off the cap. Sympathy softened her voice. “Hedda said you need to rub this on your chest before bedtime, but I think you should do that now.” She held out the jar.
He lowered his head and sniffed the waxy contents. His nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell?”
She brought the jar to her nose. “Eucalyptus, I think. Peppermint. Cinnamon. And... Rosemary?” She smiled. “Smells all right to me. Your housekeeper went to a lot of trouble making this for you.” She held the jar towards him again, obliging him to take it.
His chest rose and fell on a put-upon sigh. “Fine. If she finds out I didn’t use it, I’ll get banned from Sunday supper for at least a month.” After placing the jar in his lap, he reached up to tug at the collar of his snug tee shirt and pulled it over his head.
She suppressed a startled gasp. Oh, wow. Her assumption proved correct. He didn’t have a spare ounce of fat on him. His torso was lean muscle and defined abs, his chest covered with a fine mat of blond hair. Fortunately, Travis wasn’t looking at her. He dabbed his fingers into the ointment and proceeded to rub it onto his chest. Cheeks burning, she backed away from the couch.
“I need to throw the sheets in the dryer,” she said in a rush.
She took her time about it, her mind in a muddle. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen a guy’s naked chest before, so why did the sight of Travis Hollister’s make her feel so...peculiar?
“Mari?” His voice carried above the sound of the dryer.
“Yes?”
“Could you grab a button-up shirt from the wardrobe? I need to wear something loose that won’t stick to my skin.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t glance in his direction. She hurried into the bedroom and back. “Here,” she said, tossing the shirt at the couch on her way to the kitchen. She washed the few dishes in the sink, then wiped down the counters and table.
“You can look now,” Travis said in a teasing tone.
“Very funny.”
“I’m not used to girls running away from me when I take my shirt off. It’s usually the other way around.”
“Would you just stop?”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. Didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He sounded contrite but also curious.
Warding off the questions in his voice before he could speak them, she asked, “Why don’t you want me working for the Tanners?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just far...from town. And I don’t think it’s a suitable job for you.”
Her short laugh held derision. She wrung out the dishrag and dropped it in the sink. “That proves how little you know.”
“Yeah?” Challenge marked his tone. “Come share with me what I don’t know.”
For a few, tantalizing seconds, she toyed with revealing everything. What a catharsis that would be, to share what she’d endured the last twenty-two years, every hurt, large and small, the rare flicker of hope and the crushing darkness of despair. She had never experienced this urge with anyone else, not even Jonathan. What was it about Travis that persuaded her to tell him so much about herself?
She went to the fireplace to add another log. Then she folded her limbs into the armchair. Eyes on the hands clutched in her lap, she said, “It may sound stupid to you, but I enjoy keeping a house in order. I’m not obsessive about it, but the daily ritual of washing dishes and clothes, vacuuming floors, cooking meals and things like that gives me comfort. If you had grown up like I did, never having a home you could call your own, you might understand.” She looked at him as she continued in a rush of words. “I’m not telling you this to get your sympathy. I only want you to realize that I won’t find a housekeeping job demeaning. Sage knows about it, and she encouraged me to apply.”
He observed her in silence for a minute or two, his features composed. Then he cleared his throat. “Okay. Have you told your cousin?”
“Not until it’s official. And, before you say anything, I know he won’t mind. He’ll be happy to see me taking charge of my life.”
“How will you get back and forth? Pam will need her car after the baby’s born.”
“I almost have enough money saved to get a used car. Chey’s driving me to Big Timber next week to check some out.”
“So, he knows about your plans?”
Her eyes narrowed at the sudden sharpness in his tone. “Yes. We talked last night.”
“Last night?”
“After the movies. He took me to the Grange.”
“Ah.” An enigmatic smile skimmed across his face. “The two of you are dating?”
Later, she would wonder what impulse made her say, “Yes. I think we are. I like him.”
Travis stared at her, his grey eyes inscrutable.
Mari squirmed in the chair; she didn’t understand why she should feel guilty. It wasn’t his business who she saw.
It came as a relief when the door flew open and Squeak entered the cabin.
“I just called the vet,” the grizzled cowboy said. “Dusty Lady’s giving signs it’s a breech. You’d better come quick.”