The shocked looked on Tara’s face would have made Brody laugh if not for the assumption she’d jumped to.
“Do you really think that I’m capable of something so sinister?”
She cocked her head to one side. “My brother is dead. My shop was broken into. Forgive me if I’m a little cautious.”
Anger surged through him. She had a right to feel what she felt. But he was tired of having to defend himself endlessly for his part in it.
“We’ve been through this.”
“I know. You had nothing to do with the break-in.”
“I’d prefer to move on from the past,” Brody said. “Aren’t you a little tired of living in that moment?”
She was about to protest, but then held herself back. “You did your time.”
“I did.”
Tara hadn’t agreed with him. Maybe it was too tall an order for her to move on the way he longed to do. In the barn, she’d admitted her brother’s death was in part because he’d been so high on drugs that he barely knew his own name that day. Well, she hadn’t exactly said that. But she’d admitted to Doug’s past, something she hadn’t done years ago.
The prosecutors had used experts that had tried to squash evidence of Doug’s drug use on the day of the accident. His parents had pushed for it. They’d been unsuccessful, which ended up being to Brody’s benefit and was probably the source of why Tara had been unable to move on the way he had. He’d known the truth and accepted it. Losing a loved one because of their own actions made it much more difficult to move on for those left behind.
Tara looked around the shop. “If you want to look around the shop, I can tell you a little bit about each of the pieces. But I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go out to your house.”
He chuckled. “Why not?”
“I’m not a decorator.”
“You know the pieces. You said so yourself. Besides, I don’t really need to have you tell me about the pieces. I’m Native America. Half anyway. My father taught me a lot even thought we didn’t live on the reservation our entire lives. I’ve seen a lot of this type of work. My problem is I don’t know what to do with it. And that’s where you come in.”
She cocked her head to one side. “You didn’t live on the reservation? I thought you were living there when—”
“Yes, I was living there ten years ago,” he said quickly, knowing what she was getting at. “We’d only just moved there after my mother died. My father thought that living with my grandmother would keep my sister from running wild. I was on the rodeo circuit, mostly traveling with Hunter and a few other locals. But my grandmother suspected Marie was using drugs. She begged me to come home and help her.”
“So you did.”
“Of course. My sister was in trouble. I helped as best I could. It didn’t work.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and then she abruptly shut it. “No, I guess not,” she said quietly.
She watched him as he walked around the shop, pausing at pieces of pottery and interesting trinkets that reminded him of pieces he’d seen in his grandmother’s house. It brought back memories of a time when he didn’t worry about what people thought of him. And he hadn’t.
Growing up, his mother had taught him to be proud of his Native American heritage as well as his Irish heritage which he got from her. He never thought there’d be a reason to not be proud of being Sioux. Until he’d gone to a local public school and saw bigotry first hand. It was never from the kids. It was the parents who somehow didn’t understand that he was a kid just like their kid.
Marie had a much harder time dealing with it then Brody had. Brody had done what most boys did when teased. He fought back. Marie couldn’t do that.
He stopped at a table that had some teapots and cups. “My grandmother had something like this in her house.”
“Is she Lakota?”
“Yes. Was. She died five years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. She had a good life. One that she loved. I was out of prison before she died, so I had a chance to spend some time with her. I would have regretted it had she died while I was still…”
He’d forgotten whom he was talking to. Tara had no reason to sympathize with him.
But she didn’t jump on it or dwell on it. For that, he was glad.
“Are there any pieces you’re drawn to here?”
“Lots. But not as much as I’d been to Shana’s work.”
She smiled. “Most don’t have a story. I love Shana’s work because she always has a story with her work.”
He turned to her. “You said she’d brought a few pieces the other day. Where are those?”
She sighed. “Unfortunately most of what I had was lost during the break in. I had them prominently displayed because I love her work. She was heartbroken when I told her about the destruction. That’s why she brought me those pieces she had ahead of our normal schedule. I sold the last two pieces yesterday.”
He nodded. “Too bad I missed them. But I’m sure whoever purchased them will get a lot of enjoyment. I’ll have to wait until she has more pieces for me to look at. I like the bowl. I’m not exactly sure what I’ll do with it, but I like it.”
Tara chuckled softly. The musical sound of it touched something deep in his chest and spread warmth through his body.
“Brody, it’s a bowl. You put fruit in it, or chips for when you and the ranch hands are watching the football game on TV or doing whatever it is you all do when you kick back and relax after a long day.”
“Those ranch hands aren’t going to see that bowl. I’ve seen the way they horse around. It’ll be broken inside of an hour.”
“I have other things. Do you have dinnerware? I noticed you looking at the table outside.”
“Trip supplied all the basics. Not as nice as what you have out there, but it’s functional.”
“And unbreakable?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I’m sure he had that in mind. There’s nothing on the walls or on the tables. I could use some help with that.”
She drew in a deep breath and then looked around. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything authentic that I could recommend. I have things for the walls, but it’s mostly for the tourists. I’m sure you wouldn’t want a poster of Sweet or Yellowstone National Park in your place.”
“It doesn’t have to be Native American. Just something with…”
“Color?”
“Yeah, color. Something to fill up that space on the walls. I’d love it if you could come by to help give me ideas.”
“I don’t know. It’s been busy all week. People are coming into town for the rodeo, so that’s usually my busiest time.” She glanced over at the bakery case and then appeared to look into the stockroom. “And Dixie isn’t feeling all that well today. I can’t leave the shop.”
“Tomorrow then? How about at lunch? You must take some time off for lunch.”
She shrugged. “I suppose I can work something out with Dixie if she’s feeling better.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Brody pivoted and walked out of the store, almost afraid that Tara would change her mind before he got to the door. She didn’t. But as he walked out onto the sidewalk, he questioned the wisdom of his spontaneous request to ask Tara Mitchell out to the ranch.
Since his arrest, he’d become very careful of who he let into his private space. He’d not only invited Tara, he was asking her to be a part of it. In a way, she already was.
Ever since she’d given him that bowl, Brody thought of her every time he was in his house. It was just a bowl. A piece of clay that had been molded, fired, and painted with love. But it commanded the room because Tara had picked it out and given it to him. It had given the room color and life. Given him life.
He crossed the street and headed to the hardware store to pick up the nails and fasteners he’d ordered. That had been his reason for coming to town that morning. But he’d looked across the street and seen all those pieces sitting out on the sidewalk as if they’d been calling for him. Giving him the breath of life, just as the bowl had. He couldn’t help abandoning plans to quickly do his errands and get back to the ranch. He suddenly realized he had to see Tara.
Within minutes, he’d picked up his order, paid for it, and then headed back to the parking lot where he’d parked his truck. Before he could stop himself, he glanced over at the Sweet Sensations and felt a pull inside of him like no other. He wanted to go back if only to see Tara smile again.
Good Lord, he hoped he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life by inviting her into his space. But he knew that even if she wasn’t physically there, Tara was already there in his head, and he feared, in his heart.
* * *
Why was she doing this? Tara knew why. She’d been railroaded into coming back to the Lone Creek Ranch after she’d specifically decided that giving Brody the bowl would be the last time she’d see him. And then he had to show up at Sweet Sensations and mess with her head by making her think of his eyes and his arms and…and…
“This is so not fair at all,” she muttered, parking her car next to the row of trucks the ranch hands used.
But she knew saying such a thing was ridiculous.
She took a deep breath and then pushed the car door open. The heat from the afternoon sun pushed down on her head as she stepped out of the car. She reached inside to grab her purse, and made sure her cell phone was inside so she could take pictures.
Brody could be anywhere. She hated coming here for the sole reason she always had to look for him. But today he’d invited her to the house. The only problem was she didn’t know which of the houses was his.
She stood and looked around, hoping to find someone to ask. He could be in the barn. It was nearing lunchtime, but it suddenly dawned on her that it didn’t mean he broke for lunch when the rest of the world did. Ranch hands were up early and usually finished a day’s worth of work by most standards before they broke for lunch. Then they went on and did another full day of work.
She drew in a deep breath, smelled the earth and animals nearby, and listened to see if she could hear anything other than animals in the vicinity.
Nothing.
“Hey, little lady,” a male voice said from somewhere by the main house.
Tara turned and saw Trip standing on the porch that overlooked the pastures.
“I wasn’t expecting you out here today.”
She shielded her eyes from the sun with her fingers. “It was a last minute thing. Do you happen to know where Brody is?”
“Ah, so you’re the one he’s making lunch for. Mercy’s been muttering about that for the past hour.”
“Lunch? Oh, no. I am just stopping by to…” She fumbled with her purse to pull out her cell phone. “To…take pictures for Brody.”
“Oh. Well, you might want to stay for a bite. Good smells have been coming out of Brody’s house for the past hour. And it’s not for us.”
Brody hadn’t said anything about eating lunch. She suddenly wondered if she’d gotten her days mixed up and he was expecting someone else.
“Thanks.” She lifted her hand and pointed toward the out building in the field on the other side of the barn. “Which one?”
“Last house. The smaller one. Just follow your nose.”
She waved to Trip and then turned toward the path that led to the bunkhouse and Brody’s place. Every time she came out to the ranch, she was wearing the worst shoes possible. She worked in a store. She wore flats that were comfortable to be in all day. She didn’t walk over gravel paths or through grass like she did here on the ranch.
When she reached the small house, she understood what Trip said about following her nose. The smell of something cooking was filtering out onto the porch. Before she knocked on the door, she bent over and brushed the dust and grass clippings that had covered her shoes as best she could. Before she could straighten up again, the door swung open.
“I thought I heard someone,” Brody said, looking down at her. His expression went from calm to panic in a split second as he reached down to help her up. “Are you okay?”
She straightened up and released her arm from his hold. “Of course. Why would you…” She glanced down at her shoes which were a bigger mess now that she’d tried to wipe away the dust and realized he’d misunderstood. “I wasn’t hurt. These shoes aren’t meant for walking around the ranch.”
He glanced down quickly and nodded. “I can fix that. Come on in.”
She stepped into the main room, which by measure was relatively small. The floors and the walls were all knotty pine. Brody disappeared into the kitchen and then came out with a damp paper towel.
“Have a seat,” he said, handing her the paper towel.
“Thank you.”
She found the nearest seat and dropped her purse to the floor. With a few quick strokes, she washed the dust off her shoes until they looked normal again. She’d have to wait to deal with the little bits of grass clippings that continued to cling to her pants until she got back to the store where she kept a lint roller for situations just like this.
“Something smells good.”
“Thanks. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Oh, I can’t stay for lunch.”
He frowned as he sat down opposite her on the sofa. “What do you mean? I invited you over for lunch.”
“I thought I was here to see your place and help you.”
“You are. That doesn’t mean we can’t eat too.”
There was a light breeze coming in through the open window, but Tara still felt closed in. Wasting no time, she got down to business.
“So this is it, huh?” she said, looking around.
“Yeah. What do you think?”
“It’s nice. Small, but functional.”
“It seems huge to me,” Brody said, smiling.
“It’s bigger than my place,” she said.
His eyebrows stretched on his forehead. “Yeah?”
“Well, yeah. This is a house. I live in an apartment.”
She continued to look around.
“It’s…”
“Tan.”
She chuckled. “Yes. And beige in some places. And full of wood.”
“Yes.”
“Now I understand what you mean about the bowl.”
He’d placed the bowl on the coffee table. The colors were vibrant compared to the rest of the room.
“It doesn’t really belong there,” she said, almost feeling bad for pointing it out.
“I figured as much. Where should I put it?”
“It’s a kitchen bowl. So I could suggest putting it on the kitchen table with some fruit in it. Or on your counter.”
“But I’m hardly ever in the kitchen.”
She smiled. Standing up, she reached for the bowl and walked over to a small cabinet by the window. She took her finger, rubbed a little bit of dust off the top, and placed the bowl down.
“You need a housekeeper.”
“I’ve never had one. Trip has someone come in to clean, but I don’t need someone. This place is too small.”
“You’ll rethink that the busier you get. Do you like where the bowl is placed?”
She cocked her head to one side to look at it a little better. The colors looked nice against the wood.
When she turned, she caught him looking at her, not the bowl.
“It’s nice.”
She cleared her throat. “What colors are you drawn to?”
He shrugged. “The bowl. I like that.”
She chuckled. “You’re going to have to work with me a little harder, Brody. There is a whole lot more than that bowl out there.”
“You have a pretty smile. I like that too. You should smile more.”
She drew in a deep breath.
“Let’s just stick to decorating, okay?”
He pushed up from the sofa. “Sure. So now you’ve seen my place. Everything is tan,” he said. “I have tan walls. A tan table. Knotty pine floors. I’m not really sure what color that couch is but it’s some sort of tan.”
Tara scrutinized the sofa that sat in front of the woodstove. “Beige. Same family as tan.”
Brody lifted his hands and pointed to the bowl. “And then there is that bowl. It’s full of life and color. I can assure you that anything you do is a lot better than I could do on my own. As I told you yesterday, I’m not asking for a fancy decorator. I just want something that will bring some life to the room. You see, I’ve spent a lot of time in drab environments, almost afraid to put my mark them. I usually don’t stay in one job long enough because one thing or another happens and I leave.”
“What makes you think you’ll last here?”
The words had come out harsher than she’d expected. She hadn’t meant them the way Brody seemed to take it.
“Because Trip is different. It’s not just that he needed somebody to fill a spot until someone better came along. The people who work here are people who love what they do and are invested in what they do here. That’s what I want. That’s who I am. Trip may not know that yet, but I have a feeling he suspects it. Hunter’s been working as a farrier on this ranch for a long time. This could become home.”
“Hunter doesn’t work just for Trip. He works at other ranches too.”
“That’s true. But Trip knew exactly what kind of history Hunter had. He let him in and let him prove himself. When the Lone Creek Ranch kept him on, other ranches decided to give Hunter a chance. He’s made a business for himself and a life here in Sweet. He’s dug in his roots. I aim to do the same.”
“Why Sweet? You could start over anywhere. Somewhere where people didn’t know about your past.”
“Secrets have a way of being unearthed. I have a history here. Family not far from here. This is going to give me a way to build back my reputation, just as it did for Hunter. People may have a tainted view of me, but that will change. That’s what I want.”
She sighed. They were back to square one. “So what do you like? Other than the bowl because you can’t have ten bowls in your house. My reputation will be ruined if I let you do that.”
He chuckled. “I like nature. I like colors you see in nature.”
She frowned. “I’m not sure how often I see bright colors like what’s in this bowl in nature.”
* * *
“You are kidding.”
He thought about his first ride with Desert Rose out on the ranch on the day he arrived. He’d wanted to get a feel for just how big the ranch was, thinking of the feel for the boundaries.
“You’d be surprised what kind of color is out there,” he said.
Tara thought for a second. “I suppose you’re right. One of the things I love in the spring is when the silvery lupine bloom in the fields. The purple color is so beautiful.”
“Nature gives us so much.”
She drew in a deep breath and squinted one eye. “So that narrows it down. What’s your favorite flower?”
He frowned. “I don’t know much about flowers. Other than some grow wild and some cost a lot when you buy them in the store.”
“When I was a little girl my mother wanted to plant rose bushes. She was obsessed with it,” Tara said, chuckling. “Every year she would go down to the nursery and buy at least six rosebushes.”
“She must have a whole lot of them if she bought them every year.”
Tara shook her head. “That’s just the point. She would buy them and plant them every year. She’d nurture them, and they would die. I think maybe she got a total of six or seven roses out of all the bushes she bought. She was just determined to have roses but could never grow them.”
“That’s too bad.”
“But then my dad took her on a hike up in the mountains and she found wild roses. They were pink and fluffy looking and so delicate. She fell in love with them. My dad had been hiking in the mountains for years and he knew that they were there all that time. They never seemed to catch them when they were in bloom though.”
“What’s your point?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know if I have one. I guess maybe it’s just like what you said, that nature brings us some of the most beautiful things naturally. You like the colors of nature. So maybe you should spend a little time going out into nature, maybe taking some pictures, and then bring them back to me so I can get an idea of what you might like. I’m sure we’ll be able to fill the walls with something that brings life to your home. Especially now that I have a feel for your space.”
“Great idea. Let’s go.”
Tara’s eyes opened wide. “What you mean let’s go?”
“What’s wrong with right now?”
He took her by the hands, but she pulled away. “I can’t go hiking. I have to get back to the shop.”
“Why do you have to get back so quick? I thought you asked Dixie to cover for you. Give her a call. Ask if she won’t mind you being gone for a little bit longer. It’s for a good cause.”
Tara cocked her head to one side. “A good cause? And what might that be?”
“I will spend a lot of money in your store.”
Tara stood up straight. “Yeah, that would be a good cause.”