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“SO, YOU’RE WORKING for Travis now,” Sage said. “I thought you wanted a job with the Tanners. What made you change your mind?”
Mari took a slow sip of fruit punch and peered through the window at the women gathered in Angela Gunderson’s living room; their voices rose in volume as they chattered and laughed.
The weather had cooperated with Angela’s wish for a clear day on her daughter’s baby shower; the sunny front porch had beckoned to Mari’s need for a few minutes of relative quiet. She didn’t realize Sage had followed her.
“He needs me more,” Mari said. Her serene eyes met Sage’s inquisitive gaze before returning her focus to the party.
“I get he needs help while he’s still on crutches, but will he still need you once he’s back on his feet?” Sage sounded concerned. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry like Viv, but I thought you wanted a full-time job. I can’t see how cooking and cleaning for Travis adds up to forty hours a week.”
“That’s all right. There hasn’t been time to tell you everything, and I held off until I was sure I liked it. I didn’t update Jonathan and Pam until last night. See, Travis hired me on as a ranch hand too.” Mari didn’t bother concealing her excitement. The past three days working for Travis sparked her enthusiasm in ways working at the café never had; she couldn’t wait until Monday when she’d have a whole day to learn new skills and practice what Travis and the Farris brothers had already taught her.
Her eyes sparkled at Sage’s befuddled expression. “Is that right,” Sage said. “Hmm. How come Spence didn’t tell me that part?”
Mari grinned. “To be fair to your fiancé, Travis hired me on trial. Maybe he told Spence not to say anything until I decided if mucking horse stalls and corrals is the right fit for me.”
“And is it?”
“Call me crazy, but I love it.”
Sage wrinkled her nose. “I’ll leave the mucking to Spence and his ranch hands. I’d rather smell sugar and spice.”
“You realize in another month you’ll be living on a cattle ranch, right?”
“Spence assured me the cows are up in the high pastures in the heat of summer, far enough away from the house, I won’t notice.” Her expression softened with tenderness. “I wouldn’t care if we lived in a sod house with cows grazing the roof, so long as I’m with Spence.”
Angela pushed the screen door open and poked her head out. “Come inside, ladies. It’s time to play diaper derby!”
Sage shared a droll smile with Mari. “The men are missing all the fun.”
Mari imagined most of the men were having their own fun at the café where Jonathan was serving up complimentary burgers and hot dogs with the help of Gunnar and Danny—who’d arrived at one o’clock, in time for Sage and Mari to leave for the baby shower. But Mari’s thoughts didn’t dwell on those men. Instead, she wondered what Travis was doing at that moment.
“Yoo-hoo! Over here, Mari,” Viv Jacobsen called. “You’re on our team.” She and three other ladies surrounded Tressa Tanner, who wore a resigned expression.
Viv handed Mari a roll of toilet paper. “Whichever team creates the most unique pair of diapers on their model, wins.”
“I’m the model,” Tressa said. She cast Mari a hopeful glance. “Unless you want—”
“I’m good.”
The brunette joked good-naturedly while she held herself like a statue as the other women fussed around her, Viv keeping an eagle eye on the competition and offering frenzied suggestions while doing no actual work.
“Two minutes, ladies!” Angela called.
A part of Mari thought the game stupid; what a waste of toilet paper. But she soon lost herself in the chaos and silliness, and she joined the celebration when her team won, each of them receiving a quilted bag filled with dainty bath soaps.
The nervousness she’d endured in the days leading up to the baby shower evaporated. None of the women stared at her or whispered behind their hands as she’d dreaded. They were there to enjoy the party and share in Pam’s happiness. Mari was another guest, another member of their community.
Pam singled her out when it came time to open gifts; she requested Mari sit beside her and write the name of each gift-giver and what they’d given, so Pam could send thank-you notes. Shawna sat on Mari’s other side, sometimes leaning closer to whisper the correct spelling of a name.
Mari kept one ear tuned to the conversation Shawna was having with the woman beside her. Shawna had introduced the woman to Mari earlier. Her name was Carrie Montgomery; she and her husband Bill operated a sheep ranch north of town. It seemed Carrie’s eldest son Colt was an artist, and Shawna hoped to convince him to take part in an art show she was pulling together for the fall. Mari gathered that Shawna had leased the space next to Wyatt’s Saddlery and intended to create a gallery and gift shop highlighting local artists.
Over dessert, Shawna filled Mari in on the details. “There’s so much talent in this area,” she said, brown eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Why, I could host a showing on just Angela’s quilts. They’re works of art.”
Tressa Tanner lingered on the edge of the conversation. Now she said, “I agree. An art gallery will be a fantastic addition to the list of offsite activities for our ranch guests. I believe in keeping as much of their dollars in Hollister as possible.”
She flicked her hand to where Leslie Sawyer stood chatting with others. “Did you hear Leslie and Rick plan to open a brick and mortar store to sell their honey bee products? And Colleen Montgomery told me she’s considering going into business selling those gorgeous wool sweaters she knits. Stuff like that makes me so happy. You’ve shown us it won’t take much to revitalize this community, Shawna.” Tressa shook her head. “I wish my family shared your enthusiasm. Mack shoots down almost every suggestion I make to update the guest ranch.”
Shawna gave the brunette a commiserating look. “Remember what I told you about flies and honey. Give it time.”
Tressa sighed. “I’m trying, but I think I’m running out of patience.” She pivoted her attention to Mari. “I heard you’re housekeeping for Travis. Grady mentioned what a good cook you are.”
Viv had been hovering in the background. “I hear it’s more than housekeeping,” she said in a carrying voice. “Is it true Travis put you to work as a ranch hand?”
A waiting hush fell over the room; all attention focused on Mari.
She swallowed. “That’s true. I enjoy the work.” Then she lifted her chin; a wobbly smile curved her mouth. “Who knew mucking horse stalls and composting could be so fascinating?”
The women laughed.
Shawna moved closer to Mari, the press of her arm against Mari’s a warm security blanket. “Good for you,” she whispered with pride.
As the party died down and guests were leaving, Tressa returned to Mari’s side, trailed by Cassie Eagleton, a teacher at Hollister Elementary. “We’re going to the Hideaway tonight to dance. Colleen Montgomery’s coming too. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’m not sure...”
“It’s super casual, and everyone’s nice. Tom will be there too.”
Tom was Pam’s older brother; Cassie was his girlfriend. They both lived in Big Timber. Since arriving in Hollister, Mari had spoken with the couple once or twice. Tom had the same easygoing personality as his sister. “What time?”
“Seven until closing?” Tressa grinned. “I’m spending the night with the Montgomerys instead of driving back to the ranch. This is one of my rare weekends off.”
“We’ll teach you some line dances,” Cassie added. “You’ll want to learn them before Sage and Spence’s wedding.”
“All right.” Then Mari remembered Chey’s dinner invitation. “Is it okay if Chey Little Wolf joins us? He asked me to have dinner with him tonight.”
Tessa’s grin turned sly. “You and Chey, huh? Sure. The more the merrier.”
It turned out Chey had wanted to take Mari to the Hideaway that night anyway. He informed her he’d pick her up at seven. “Wear your cowgirl boots,” he said. “Tonight, you’re dancing.”
She didn’t have cowgirl boots, but Pam did. Paired with a black denim, knee-length skirt and a western dress shirt in shiny turquoise satin—also borrowed from Pam’s closet—Mari fancied she’d stepped off the set of a hillbilly show, but Pam assured her the outfit was perfect. She handed Mari a black headband embellished with silver and turquoise beading. Mari brushed her hair and let it fall loosely to her shoulder blades, then she pushed the headband into place.
“Wow. You’re stunning. Jonathan! Come see your cousin.”
Jonathan stuck his head around the bathroom door. “You look good, Mari,” he said.
Pam raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Such a man with words.”
“They worked on you.” Jonathan’s mellow laughter trailed him back to the living room.
“Stay out as long as you like,” Pam encouraged Mari. “Have fun.”
For a Saturday night, the Hideaway wasn’t as busy as Mari expected. Chey told her it’d be a few weeks yet before the summer crowds packed the place every Friday and Saturday night. She paused inside the entrance to survey the dimly lit interior.
The dining area contained several wood-paneled booths along the side wall and round tables with barrel chairs down the center. A beautiful mahogany bar curved along the back wall. Gold veined mirrors reflected colorful bottles of liquor on display. Black and white photos depicting the old west adorned the walls. Wooden fans suspended from the tin ceiling.
Saul MacNally stood behind the bar. He gave Mari and Chey a friendly nod before returning his attention to the two cowboys seated there.
Tressa waved from a round table beside the dance floor at the far end of the elongated room. Cassie and Tom were with her, and Colleen Montgomery with a man Mari didn’t recognize.
Chey settled his palm in the center of Mari’s back as they walked towards the group. That sign of male possession stirred mixed feelings within her. On the one hand, it communicated to the other men present that she was with Chey and warded off undesirable attention; however, she wasn’t his girlfriend, and she didn’t see their relationship heading in that direction. She needed to make that clearer. For a moment, she wondered how she would react if it were Travis’s palm on her back instead, but she shook that thought aside. Travis was just a friend too.
When they reached the table, Colleen spoke first. “Mari, this is my brother Colt. He doesn’t get out much.” She gave the handsome, dark-haired man a playful punch on his shoulder. “Colt, this is Mari Jones. She works at Gigi’s café.”
Colt stretched out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mari.”
He had a strong grip and the calloused fingers of someone who worked with his hands for a living. “Nice to meet you,” Mari replied.
She nodded at Tom and sat beside Tressa. After greeting everyone, Chey took the seat across from Mari. Soon afterwards, a slender, redheaded woman who appeared to be in her early forties, approached their table to take drink orders. “Hey, Cassie,” she said with a joking laugh. “Seems like it was only yesterday I saw you last.”
Cassie laughed. “So, this isn’t awkward,” she said for Mari’s benefit. “This is Elaine Stevenson. She teaches sixth through eighth grade at Hollister Elementary. She’s also the principal and my boss.”
Mari smiled. “I guess that means you won’t order any shots tonight?”
Tom draped his arm across Cassie’s shoulders. “One glass of beer is all my girl can handle. She’s a lightweight.” He kissed Cassie’s pink cheek.
Chey leaned towards Mari. “What would you like to drink?”
“Can I just have tonic water with honey? I don’t drink alcohol much.”
He smiled with easy charm. “Sure.” He gave Elaine Mari’s order along with a beer for himself.
Mari noticed Colt didn’t order alcohol either. He caught her curious glance and shrugged. “I’m not a drinker.” He shoved his chair back. “But I’m a good dancer. How about a spin around the floor?”
She glanced towards the dance floor where several couples sashayed and twirled to a medium tempo song. “I’d like to, but I don’t know country-western dancing.”
Beneath the table, Chey nudged her foot with his. “Go,” he said, his tone light. “It’s a two-step. Colt’s not as good a dancer as me, though.”
“Oh, ho,” Tom said with mock alarm. “The gloves are off.”
“I might’ve been out of commission,” Colt said. “But I’ve still got the moves.”
His sister’s laughter chased Colt and Mari onto the dance floor. He swiveled to stand in front of Mari and brought his right arm under her left arm, his palm resting against her left shoulder blade. “Put your left hand on my upper arm.” When she’d done as directed, he clasped her right hand in his left in a gentle grip. “Okay, we’ll just circle the edge of the dance floor. No fancy moves yet. Just quick, quick, slow, slow. Quick, quick, slow, slow. Like you’re walking. See?”
“Quick, quick, slow, slow,” she mumbled, eyes on her feet.
“It’s easier if you don’t look at your feet,” Colt said in a good-humored tone. “Examine the line of my firm, chiseled jaw if my gorgeous blue eyes are too distracting.”
She rolled her eyes and then tripped over her own feet.
He kept her upright. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
The song ended. Another song, about the same tempo, began. Mari concentrated on the rhythm. Yes, it was easier not looking at her feet. Once she felt more confident, she lifted her gaze from his shoulder to his face. She made a mock starstruck face. “Wow. You weren’t kidding. Your eyes are the most gorgeous blue I’ve ever seen.”
“Both a blessing and a curse my whole life.” His strong white teeth flashed in a grin.
His open, friendly manner made her comfortable enough to ask, “What did you mean when you said you’ve been out of commission?”
“I was in the army. Two tours in Afghanistan. I’ve been home five years, but it took about four of them to settle my demons.” His light, calm voice matched his expression; he seemed at peace with his past, while conveying the road to now hadn’t been easy.
She felt the bond of a kindred spirit. “Thank you for your service.”
“You’re welcome.”
“My father served in the army. I never met him. He got killed in Iraq before I was born.”
Colt’s clasp tightened for a moment, then relaxed. “Sorry about that.”
They danced in comfortable silence until the song ended. “One more?” Colt asked.
She glanced toward the table where Chey watched them with a bland expression. “No.”
Colt followed her gaze. “Chey’s a good man.”
“I know.”