JOSH DROVE OUT on the Boxing N’s gravel road, scowling at every jolt. It was smoother once they reached the paved road, and he used Bluetooth to contact Schuyler Memorial Hospital to give them an estimated time of arrival.
A stray thought went through his head as he disconnected... Bluetooth was another one of those “fancy-dancy” inventions his grandfather pooh-poohed on a regular basis. It made Josh wonder whether Walt had done the same thing with his wife; Grandma Evelyn had loved modern gadgetry. While he was down in Texas, they’d emailed and Skyped on a regular basis. Josh had wondered what happened to her laptop before realizing it might have been in the car when it crashed.
He pulled into the parking lot at the hospital and saw a medical team was waiting for them outside the emergency room entrance. Schuyler had the best emergency response procedures in the area.
“Hey, Andrew,” said the doctor as he jumped into the back of the truck and began a swift examination. “I hear you’ve acquired a taste for horse hooves.”
“Just my dumb-ass luck, Dr. Gonzalez,” Andrew replied. “I’d rather have a horse under my butt than in my face.”
The doctor chuckled and looked at Tara. “I see you had pleasant company for your ride into town.”
“Yep. Makes a kick in the head worthwhile.”
Tara’s eyes twinkled down at Andrew. “Watch it, or I’ll tell your girlfriend you were flirting.”
“Ellie wouldn’t care. She’d say I need the practice.”
Dr. Gonzalez gestured to the orderlies. “Okay, let’s bring him inside.”
Josh helped slide Andrew onto the waiting gurney, and they followed the group into the hospital.
“We’ll check in with you as soon as we know something,” the physician advised.
Josh frowned, torn by the desire to stay and his obligation to Tara. “Actually, I’ll be back as soon as possible. I need to take Ms. Livingston back to her car.”
“Don’t be silly,” she objected. “I’ll wait, too.”
“Tara, don’t forget to call Ellie,” Andrew called as he was wheeled away.
“I’ll do it first thing,” she assured.
Josh led Tara to the waiting room, where she took out her smartphone, consulted a piece of paper and punched in the numbers. He didn’t try to follow the low-voiced conversation.
When she was done, Tara glanced at him. “Andrew’s girlfriend is babysitting her brother and sister, so she can’t come over right away. I also called his mom on the way into town. Mrs. Whitlan was visiting an aunt in Helena, but she’s contacting his father and they’ll both be here as quickly as possible.”
If possible, Josh felt worse than before. As Andrew’s employer, he should have thought to contact the Whitlans earlier. He’d just focused on getting Andrew to the hospital while ignoring the grinding pain in his gut—the whole thing was too reminiscent of the day his grandparents had been hurt in that car crash.
He let out a breath. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this.”
“No reason to apologize. I’m glad I was there. Andrew seems to be a nice kid.”
“He is.” Josh leaned back and brushed his fingers through his hair. “I only hired him this month and haven’t had time to do any proper training. Something like this should never have happened.”
* * *
TARA REGARDED JOSH’S FACE. At times she could barely stand the guy, but she sympathized with his anguish. He obviously cared about his employees and felt responsible for Andrew’s injury.
“It was an accident,” Tara told him. “You aren’t at fault.”
“That won’t be much comfort if he’s seriously hurt.”
Josh looked so miserable that Tara felt sorry for him.
“Honestly, don’t beat yourself up,” she urged. “On the drive into town, Andrew admitted that you’d told him not to go in Belle’s stall, but he wanted to impress you with his ability around horses, so he went in to clean it out.” She grinned. “I’m not sure why he looks up to you so much, but there’s no accounting for taste.”
The atmosphere lightened, and Josh returned her smile. “Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
They fell silent as a man came in and spoke to someone at the desk about his wife. It was a long discussion, and Tara watched idly. He appeared worried, but as time went on, she began to doubt his concern was genuine. Finally he stomped off after being told his wife would be admitted to the hospital for tests.
“Not the happiest marriage, I’d guess,” Josh commented.
Tara was surprised he’d picked up on the subtle signals, but a stubborn gremlin inside made her say, “Who knows? He might just hate hospitals and red tape.”
Silence fell for another few minutes.
“I understand Andrew’s father works for one of your brothers,” Tara murmured at length.
“Yeah, Trent. Perry Whitlan grew up on a ranch and his father was a top-notch rancher, but Perry decided construction was more his taste, so the ranch got sold before Andrew was born.”
“Will Mr. Whitlan be able to leave the job site and come to the hospital?”
“Sure, Trent is a good boss.” Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “He owns Big Sky Construction, and one of our sisters is his office manager. Alaina is supposed to be on maternity leave right now, but she’s spending lots of time at work, anyhow. She says little Evelyn doesn’t care whether she’s in a bassinet at home or at the Big Sky office.”
Tara remembered that it was Alaina who’d been having a baby the day that she and Lauren had stopped at the hospital.
“Big Sky must be a popular company. I see their sign on construction sites all over town.”
Josh chuckled. “It’s the biggest in the area. As a matter of fact, Trent is one of the reasons that ranchers around here have a hard time getting good cowhands. He’s major competition when it comes to hiring.”
“You don’t seem to mind.”
“Nah. Trent is a good employer, and his success benefits the community. Besides, I enjoy razzing him about it. Though, frankly, he’s more fun to tease since he got married. Emily has been good for him.”
“Even though she’s from the city?”
Josh shrugged. “Time will tell, to quote my mom. City people usually end up returning to the city. We’re used to that around here. They come in, buy a place, spend a bundle fixing it up, only to discover they can’t stand the quiet.”
Cynical, Tara thought. Or maybe realistic. She couldn’t imagine living in such a small, remote town herself. It was nice for a visit, but she loved the excitement of cities such as Paris and Tokyo. Then something else occurred to her and she cocked her head.
“Is that what your mother says about Trent and Emily’s marriage...that time will tell? It’s rather pessimistic.”
Josh looked shocked. “Of course not. She thinks Emily practically walks on water. The same with Kayla, my brother Jackson’s wife. It’s just one of those old phrases that get passed down. Grandma Evelyn used to say it, too.”
Awkwardness suddenly filled Tara. Josh had lost his grandmother a few months before, and while he’d mentioned her in several conversations, Tara had never offered condolences. It was one of the social conventions she didn’t handle well. She didn’t know what it was like to have a grandparent she loved or how it would feel to lose them.
Lauren would understand. She probably said all the right things at all the right moments. Was it simply because she’d grown up with a real family?
Ever since Lauren had mentioned her parents wishing they could have adopted them both, Tara couldn’t help thinking how different her life might have been. It was an appealing image. On the other hand, she would be a different person now, and she didn’t know if that would be good or bad.
Twenty minutes later, another man rushed up to the emergency room desk. “I’m Perry Whitlan. My wife called and told me our son is here,” he gasped. “His name is Andrew.”
“I’ll check on him.”
Josh stood. “Hello, Mr. Whitlan. I brought Andrew in after the accident.”
“Is he badly hurt?”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t spoken to the doctor yet.”
Tara’s jaw dropped.
She might be lousy at human relations, but even she recognized a lame-ass answer when she heard one.
She stepped forward. “Good afternoon, Mr. Whitlan. I rode into town with Andrew. He talked the whole way and is mostly embarrassed about what happened. His main concern is keeping his job at the Boxing N.”
The man’s face relaxed. “That sounds like Andrew. I kept telling him that he was just romanticizing the life, but he still wanted to try. Turns out I was wrong and he loves it.”
“I understand you grew up in ranching.”
“Yeah, only I wanted to build things instead of mucking out stalls and chasing cows. Right now I’m foreman on a construction job over in Cottonwood Bend. That’s why it took me a while to get here.” He looked at Josh. “My son was thrilled when you hired him. Andrew applied at two other ranches and they wouldn’t give him a shot. You’d think with his grandfather’s reputation he wouldn’t have had so much trouble.”
Josh shifted his feet, uncomfortably aware that he wouldn’t have hired Andrew, either, if he hadn’t been desperate. “He’s a good kid and has real potential.”
“I’m glad.”
A hospital volunteer stepped into the waiting room. “Mr. Whitlan? You can come in and see your son.”
Josh glanced at Tara when they were alone again. “Thanks for the way you handled that.”
“No problem.”
Strangely, the temporary absence of tension between them made her uneasy. She didn’t want to become friendly with Josh. It was already hard enough being caught between him and Walt. Work tensions she understood and could deal with as necessary. But in Schuyler she was treading on new ground; somehow the Boxing N was becoming more than a place of employment and Walt more than a boss. She didn’t need the added complication of being attracted to Josh. It was annoying. She wanted to ignore her response to him, but it wasn’t that easy.
Still, it wasn’t as if she was moving to Montana, and she’d learned a long time ago how to get through difficult situations. So she squared her shoulders and sat down, determined to get through this one, one step at a time.
* * *
JOSH WAS PUZZLED by the shifting emotions on Tara’s face, but right now he could only afford to worry about one thing, and that was whether Andrew was all right.
Half an hour after Perry Whitlan arrived, Andrew’s mother hurried in and was escorted to the examination room to see her son. After another twenty minutes, the elder Whitlans came out, relaxed and smiling.
“It was so nice of you to wait, Mr. McGregor,” said Mrs. Whitlan. “Andrew is fine. He needed a few stitches and the doctor wants him to stay overnight for observation, but it’s mostly a precaution. He says Andrew must have a very hard head, which I could have told him without a CAT scan.”
Josh’s taut nerves began to uncoil. “Terrific,” he answered. “Tell him to get better soon and that I’m looking forward to seeing him back at work when he’s ready.”
“Thank you.”
While he shook hands with Perry, Mrs. Whitlan grabbed Tara into a hug. “I’m so glad you were there to help my son.”
As Tara stepped back, her cheeks were pink and she seemed distinctly uncomfortable. “I didn’t do that much.”
“That isn’t what Andrew said.”
After he and Tara left the hospital, Josh glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly two. Have you eaten?”
“No, but I have yogurt back at the office.”
Yogurt? Josh shuddered as they walked out to his truck. He helped her into the high seat, distracted enough that he could almost ignore her long, silk-clad legs. “Let’s go by the Roundup Café. A good meal is the least I can do to show my appreciation.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Come on, I’m sure we’re both hungry.”
He wasn’t sure why he kept pushing, except it seemed appropriate. Tara had helped with a ranch emergency, and he was caught between gratitude for the assistance and frustration that he now owed her.
When he had a moment, he would have to sort everything out in his head and decide how to respond. In the meantime, buying lunch was the civil thing to do...sort of like discharging a debt.
“All right,” she agreed slowly.
It was a short drive—nothing in Schuyler was a long way from anything else. Josh parked in front of the café and went to open the passenger door. He put a hand out, once again trying not to look at her legs; sometimes being a gentleman was a challenge.
He swallowed as she hiked up her skirt and extended her leg to the ground. Ordinarily he wasn’t a leg man, but hers were a treat. And she wasn’t even wearing a sexy outfit, just a slim suit that was entirely professional...however unsuitable it might be for a ranch.
Inside they were seated quickly.
“Good to see you, Josh,” the server said. “Before it slips my mind, folks have been wondering if you’re having the big barn dance at the Boxing N this year. I meant to ask the last time you were here and forgot.”
Damn.
He’d been ducking the question for several weeks, unsure of the answer. For the past half century the Boxing N had thrown a huge party in the spring. A wave of nostalgia went through him. A whole lot of nice things had happened at those barn dances, including his first kiss.
But the party had always been Grandma Evelyn’s special project, and he didn’t have time to take care of it himself. His mom had offered, but it wouldn’t be fair. She was enjoying her new grandbabies, and working on the party would be a constant reminder that she needed to do it because her mother was gone.
“I don’t know, Betty,” he said finally, “we may have to skip it. With Grandma gone...” He drew a harsh breath; it was hard to say more. After rushing Andrew to the emergency room, the memories of Grandma Evelyn lying in a hospital bed were sharper than usual. “Next year for sure,” he promised.
“I understand. Do you need time to look at the menu?”
“Not for me,” Tara told her. “I’ll take my usual Cobb salad and iced tea.”
“The Roundup chef salad with Roquefort,” Josh ordered. “Regular coffee, and lots of it.”
“Gotcha.” Betty made a note on her pad and headed for the kitchen.
Tara’s eyebrows shot upward. “A salad? You’re a rancher. Don’t you usually eat a slab of beef with a few potatoes on the side? Or at least a burger?”
“That’s a stereotype. Humans are omnivores.”
“I’ve known vegans who would disagree.”
Vegans weren’t common around Schuyler, though they had a few vegetarians. Josh’s teenage nephew, Jackson’s son, had even gone vegetarian for a while, though Alex had ultimately decided he couldn’t give up meat forever...mostly because he missed pepperoni pizza.
“In that case, I suppose your vegan pals are going to open a bunch of petting zoos when they convert everybody,” he said before gulping down the cup of coffee Betty had just poured for him. These days he practically lived on coffee, the stronger the better. He refilled his cup from the carafe Betty had left on the table.
Tara squeezed a lemon wedge into her iced tea. “Couldn’t cattle survive without humans?”
“You mean out in the wild? Some breeds might, but not all. So if everyone became vegan, there would be a lot of cows needing homes, and they don’t make good house pets.”
Tara smiled. “Interesting point.”
“Will you use it on your vegan friends?”
“They’re more acquaintances, and I doubt I’ll see them again. I’ve never gone back to a country where I’ve worked—there are too many new places to see.”
“Don’t you stay in touch with the people you know?”
“We exchange an email or two in the beginning, but it doesn’t last. We’ve all got our own lives.”
Their meals were delivered, and Josh noticed that Tara’s salad came with dressing on the side and a bottle of balsamic vinegar. Apparently she ate here often enough that Betty had remembered her likes and dislikes.
Tara sprinkled vinegar over her plate and began eating, occasionally dipping the edge of her fork into the container of creamy dressing before taking a bite. No doubt it was one of the ways she maintained her alluring figure. As a rule the café served their salads slathered with dressing, but Tara’s choice was undoubtedly healthier.
He dug into his own meal, ruefully aware that it was almost the same as a slab of meat with so much turkey, beef and bacon, piled on top—not to mention sliced eggs and various kinds of cheese. The owner of the Roundup Café was known for telling his short-order cooks that if a customer could see lettuce, there wasn’t enough meat on top.
“You’re obviously familiar with the Roundup Café,” he commented after they’d eaten awhile in silence.
“It’s a quick place to come when Lauren is on her lunch hour,” she explained. “Of course, we don’t get here as often now that I’m working at the Boxing N and other sites.”
Josh hesitated. The story of twins being separated was unusual—and intriguing—but it wasn’t any of his business. Still, he didn’t know what else to talk about.
“How is it that you and Lauren were raised separately?” he asked.
“Our parents died in an accident when we were babies, and the foster care system wasn’t able to keep us together.”
“The day Alaina had her baby, I heard you tell my niece about Lauren being adopted and having her name changed. Did your adoptive parents change your name, too?”
“Actually, I was never adopted,” Tara said matter-of-factly. “Livingston is my birth name, and I grew up in foster care.”
He frowned. “If you were infants when your folks died, why weren’t you both adopted? I thought people preferred babies.”
“There was a question about whether we had family somewhere. By the time the legalities were resolved, we weren’t babies any longer.”
Josh frowned again. He wasn’t an expert on social services and foster care systems, but something didn’t make sense. “Why didn’t they keep you together if they were trying to find your relatives?”
Tara didn’t answer for a long moment and he had the oddest notion that she was getting hostile, but she finally shrugged. “One of my foster mothers told me that I’d been a cranky baby with colic. She said I was passed from home to home whenever they got worn out taking care of me. My guess is that Lauren was easier to handle and they decided to leave her in one place.”
Even Josh’s nearest and dearest wouldn’t call him insightful, but he got the sense that Tara felt responsible for the way she and her twin had been separated. But it was hardly her fault. A baby couldn’t be blamed for having colic or being temperamental.
“So who found who?” he asked, hoping to get into less sensitive territory.
“We found each other, I suppose. She was old enough to remember her birth name when she was adopted, which helped. I put my name in one of those registries that help people find their birth families. When she did the same thing, we were able to connect.”
Tara’s face was smooth and cool, as if she was talking about two other people. Josh had more questions, but he didn’t think it was smart to ask them. After all, they were strangers who’d spent most of their brief acquaintance sparring with each other, so intimate conversation was awkward.
At any rate, he didn’t want to get better acquainted. Tara didn’t belong in Schuyler, and by her own admission, she wasn’t even good at staying in contact with the people she’d left behind. Neither quality made her someone he’d want as a friend or a lover. Now he just had to convince his body that those were excellent reasons to keep his distance.
* * *
“THANKS FOR THE UPDATE, Edith,” Carl said into his radio. “I’ll check in later.”
He drove by the medical clinic and resisted the temptation to stop. As a rule he didn’t suffer from self-doubt—he might even be improved by a bigger dose of humility—but Lauren’s behavior continued to nag him at odd moments.
With any other woman, he would have said the mixed messages weren’t worth the trouble. Lauren was different, though. She had a sweet vulnerability and compassion that had utterly charmed him from the beginning.
It was when he passed the Roundup Café and saw Josh McGregor and Tara Livingston sitting at a window table that he got an idea... Tara might be able to offer insight to her twin. At any rate, he ought to touch base with Josh about his report to the sheriff’s office. A sabotaged fence was a serious matter in cattle country.
Carl made a U-turn, parked in the café’s lot and went into the restaurant.
“Hey, Josh. Afternoon, Tara,” he greeted as he approached their table. “Good to see you.”
Tara grinned, and Carl noted it was quite different from Lauren’s gentle smile. Interesting. The two women were physically identical in almost every way and Tara possessed a sophisticated appeal, but he found Lauren far more desirable.
“Did you get my report about vandalism at the Boxing N?” Josh asked.
“Yup. Do you have any missing cows?”
A grim expression crossed the rancher’s face. “It’s difficult to do a quick count on a big ranch, particularly since we’re shorthanded, but I’m going to give it a shot in the morning. How much help a visual survey will be is another question. I’m still checking Grandpa’s stock records against the herds to determine our actual numbers.”
“Let me know if you come up with anything,” Carl advised carefully. He didn’t want to get involved in the conflict between Josh and his grandfather. It was hardly a secret—a few weeks ago the two men had gotten into a rip-roaring argument in front of the blacksmith shop. Cowhands who’d quit the Boxing N were also telling tales, saying they were worse than a pair of snarling bears fighting for food after hibernation.
Carl turned to Josh’s lunch companion. “Tara, is there any chance we could get together to talk? When it’s convenient, of course.”
She nodded. “I’d say now, but Josh is taking me back to the ranch to pick up my car, and I don’t want to hold him up. Another time would be fine.”
“I’ll be happy to give you a lift,” Carl volunteered.
“That’s great.” Tara immediately got to her feet. “Josh has an order to get at the feed store. We were just discussing how long it would take to stop and load everything.”
Carl was almost gleeful, which he tried to hide as a sober, responsible law enforcement officer. “Then this works out just right.”
Tara nodded. “Josh, thanks for lunch, though it wasn’t necessary.”
“I figured I should feed you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That makes me sound like a cow at a feedlot.”
“It was just to thank you for the help with Andrew,” he returned stiffly. He turned to Carl. “One of my hands had an accident. He’s fine, but Tara assisted with getting him to the hospital.”
Carl restrained a laugh. He had the impression that Josh McGregor took after his grandfather, and being under an obligation wouldn’t sit comfortably with Walt Nelson, either.
He escorted Tara to his cruiser but wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Instead he began telling her about an upcoming fund-raiser for the fire department.
“So, what’s up?” she asked after they’d turned onto the Boxing N’s gravel road. “I’m sure you didn’t offer to drive me out here to talk about fund-raising.”
He cleared his throat. “Right. Actually, I’ve been thinking about Lauren and wonder if you could point me in the right direction. I’m not making much progress with her.”
Tara chuckled wryly. “I suspected that’s what you had in mind.”
“Do you think she’s interested? I’ll back off if that’s what she really wants, but I’m having trouble reading the signals. They’re rather mixed.”
“I’m not sure I’m the one to ask. Lauren and I are still getting to know each other,” Tara explained. “Even so, I think she likes you.”
“Lauren likes everyone. I was hoping for more.”
“Then don’t give up. Maybe you just need to try something new.”
Carl drew to a stop beside the car parked near the office. He’d been out to the Boxing N a few times, so he knew his way around. “I suppose sisters have to be loyal to each other. Especially twins.”
“Honestly, this isn’t about confidentiality. I’m too new to having family to know what I should or shouldn’t say. I just don’t have any tips to offer.”
Carl gazed at her curiously. After all, if he and Lauren ever got together, Tara Livingston could become his sister-in-law. It was a big if, but he couldn’t help considering the possibility.
“Lauren mentioned you grew up in foster homes while she was adopted. She feels guilty because she was the fortunate one.”
“There’s no need,” Tara answered firmly. “It’s just the luck of the draw, and I don’t believe in whining about circumstances. I decided a long time ago to get on with my life.”
He grinned. “Healthy attitude. I can’t tell you how many criminals blame their actions on a terrible childhood.”
“Annoying, isn’t it? We could all find excuses if we wanted them.”
“Sure. Well, thanks for the encouragement. I think Lauren is pretty special.”
“Me, too,” Tara agreed, sounding a little surprised. “I want her to be happy, so if you’re serious about her, you’d better be a good guy. You don’t want to tangle with me—I’m a tough cookie.”
He held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Great. Look, I don’t know if it will help, but I know Lauren is particularly fond of pansies. You might try sending her a basket of plants in bloom.”
It was a terrific idea. “Thanks, I’ll give it a shot.”
Tara slid out of the car, smiled in a friendly way and went into the office building.
Whistling, Carl headed back to town. He hadn’t gotten everything he’d been hoping for, but he’d heard enough to come up with a new approach. He’d considered ordering roses or lilies for Lauren, but it had seemed boringly prosaic. Pansies fit Lauren much better.
If the florist in Windy Bluffs didn’t have any plants, he’d buy them at the garden center and pay the florist to arrange them in a basket. That way Lauren should be able to avoid awkward questions at the clinic by saying they were from a grateful patient. It would be true, in a sense, since he’d seen the doctor there for his annual physical. Of course, sending flowers to Dr. Clinite had never occurred to him, but Bill Clinite didn’t look anything like Lauren Spencer.