TODAY HADN’T BEEN the most auspicious day of his life.
On the one hand, both his father and Mrs. A. were willing to invest in the larger stable. On the other hand, the bidding war was out of control.
Or his control, anyway.
It was the dream of any person trying to start up a business, and a nightmare in the making.
When they’d driven away, Tate had been extremely relieved. If, in some alternate universe, he’d remotely imagined them getting along, he’d have suggested they both invest, but that sounded like a catastrophe he wanted no part of.
To his consternation, they’d suggested it. During an acrimonious argument that didn’t even include him, they’d hammered out the details, and every single time he’d attempted to say anything, he was shot down so he finally gave up.
It was going to be quite a stable.
Nate Cameron and his contractor were thrilled. He was the one who’d be mopping up the blood, so he wasn’t nearly as excited.
When his phone rang, he was more than grateful to see Bex’s number pop up. She asked, “How did it go?”
“I’m fairly sure I’m not going to survive this.”
“That good, huh?”
“I hear the laughter in your voice. You’ll pay for that.”
“I want to hear the details first.”
“You’ll get them tonight. I want to have dinner at home. The two of us. A glass of wine, a normal conversation and maybe even some civility. Possible?”
“What about the boys? Don’t you mean the five of us?”
He sighed. He’d thought the kids could have their dinner first, then disappear quietly to do their homework. Not too likely—another alternate universe idea. “Okay, you’re right. Five. Two isn’t possible,” he conceded. “What kind of wine goes with hamburgers? The kids can have juice.”
“Wine with hamburgers? Red, I guess. Did your father leave already?”
He’d pick out a suitable merlot. “His mission to complicate my life was apparently accomplished. Yes, he took off. I was afraid he and Mrs. Arbuckle were going to drag race each other down the driveway.”
“I’d love to have seen that.”
“Will you and Josh spend the night again?” Until he knew Tara had informed Greg of her plans, he was going to remain worried. He’d been trying all day to figure out how to camp out in front of Bex’s front door with two children sleeping in his truck if she said no.
“I appreciate the concern. Greg hasn’t contacted me yet.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I called the school. He hasn’t said anything to them, either. Maybe Tara actually knows him better than I thought. He isn’t interested in Josh, and Josh isn’t interested in him.” Her voice broke. Just a fraction. “It makes me so sad, Tate.”
“I know.” He really did. It made him sad, too, at least for Josh. And angry. At Greg. He also noticed that she hadn’t answered his question.
“I’ll bring a salad. And maybe some mac and cheese.”
“Adam won’t leap up and down about the first, but I know that won’t surprise you. The second offering he’ll go for because that’s his all-time favorite food. Ben and Josh will eat both.”
“If I was going through this alone—”
“You’d manage fine, but we’re good together.”
He could hardly believe he’d just said that...but he had. And he’d meant it, too.
To gloss over his response—and what it revealed about his feelings—he moved on. “Here’s an idea. Do you want to have dinner at the ranch house tonight? Not everything’s done, but there are working bathrooms now and the kitchen is almost finished. The boys can run around outside.”
Wasn’t that the point of it all? To give them an upbringing that included space and horses and vivid blue skies with snow-capped mountains in the distance. No traffic, virtually no crime and the freedom to run and play.
“That sounds perfect. Um, has the kitchen been painted yet?”
He found that an interesting question. “They were working on it when I left. Why?”
“No reason. What time do you want us to come out?”
“I’ll pick the boys up from school, including Josh. Whenever you’re ready is fine. We’ll be there. I want to go over the new plans with the contractor now that the game has changed. By the way, my father didn’t say anything about hotels. He was too busy arguing with Lettie Arbuckle. So at least I dodged that conversation. Maybe we should have champagne with our burgers to celebrate the event.”
“I’ll buy some.” Bex laughed. “After all, it’s supposed to go with everything.”
When the call ended, Tate rubbed his forehead and propped his elbows on his desk. His rocky relationship with his father always made him consider how he dealt with his sons. Loving someone didn’t necessarily lead to a perfect relationship. In fact, as he knew from experience, there was no such thing, even though Tripp and Spence had ended up in marriages that were as close to perfect as marriage got. People were individual, and they handled life’s joys and problems in their own unique ways. Accepting that someone else’s way might not be yours wasn’t easy. Especially if you disapproved of the other person’s approach.
Look at Bex and her sister, for instance.
That neither of Josh’s parents was taking care of him was beyond the scope of Tate’s imagination, but then, maybe they knew Bex would be better at it than either of them. At this particular time, anyway.
The three boys came out of the school together, and when they saw him, ran with flattering eagerness in his direction.
No, he was mistaken. Bex had also arrived and was holding a magic cookie box, which they could see from a distance. His boys dashed past him as if he didn’t exist.
Turning, he had to say, “That’s not playing fair, you know.”
Unabashedly, she grinned. “I left work early today and I’d already stopped off at the bakery so Hadleigh and Mel could get their fix. I would’ve told you on the phone, but—”
“This was more fun.”
“You bet.” Her eyes held that sparkle he found so captivating. She wore a little red cap patterned with snowflakes; it matched her sweater. The boys milled around her, and several of their friends joined in as she passed out cookies.
“That is purchased popularity,” he informed her, hands in his pockets. “Shameless bribery.”
“I don’t deny or defend my actions.”
“Doesn’t matter. The truth is, I love you for you.”
“I’d offer you a cookie but I seem to be fresh out.” She displayed the empty box.
The word love made her uncomfortable. He saw that. The word marriage made him want to run. “That seems to be the case,” he said drily. “Will you take the boys, while I stop at the grocery store? I need supplies for our ranch picnic.”
Adam didn’t need to be asked twice. He grabbed her hand and announced, “I want to go with Aunt Bex.”
Obviously, Tate needed to think ahead and buy cookies so he could stay in favor, too.
* * *
DINNER WAS LIKE a continuation of their fishing vacation, with the boys bickering but getting along, running amok and tossing a baseball around, their boundless energy reminding Bex of cherished childhood days.
Adam even ate some of her salad. Tate declared it an official miracle.
“You’ve seen him,” he said with clear disbelief as they cleared the dishes from the counter. “If there’s green included, he’s just going to balk. I’ve tried everything. How did you do it?”
“Apparently, my special powers aren’t confined to fishing.” Bex raised her brows. “I just asked him to eat it.”
“I’ve started believing in those powers.” Tate dropped the last paper plate in the trash bag he’d brought. He looked at her meaningfully. “Especially after last night.”
There was no denying they’d been hungry for each other. Bex felt her cheeks warm. He wasn’t shy in bed, but she hadn’t been, either. She looked right back at him. “It was...nice.”
What a dumb thing to say! The knowing gleam in his eyes flustered her even more. “Nice?”
“Okay, very nice.”
“I’ll take that bet and raise it to extremely nice.”
“This isn’t a game of poker.”
“I’m the Old Maid champion, please don’t forget. You aren’t even in my league.”
“You lost every time, Calder.”
“Not last night.”
“I want to see the stable plans,” she declared, skirting the subject. “I’m dying to see what the war between your father and Mrs. A. produced.”
He crossed his arms and shook his head. “I think we ended up with a small airport, a strip mall and five hundred stalls or so. I might as well not have been in the room. They were tossing around numbers like confetti at midnight on New Year’s Eve.”
She wiped off the counter with a damp paper towel. “There are worse problems to have than rich people throwing money at you.”
“True, but I’ve got some reservations about those two playing well with each other. I want to run a business, not be a mediator. Not that either of them listens to me, anyway.”
“Did you ask your father what their problem is?”
“No, never had a minute alone with him. If I had to guess. it would be a mutual bullheaded determination to have their way—but I’m just the person who stood there for an hour or so, trying to get a word in edgewise. Shall we take our wine out to the front porch? We don’t have any chairs but we can sit on the steps.”
“In a minute? I have something to give you first. Well, we all do, Hadleigh, Tripp, Mel and Spence, too. It seems fitting that you should get a housewarming present after your first dinner in this house.” She removed a wrapped gift from her oversize bag, which she’d propped up against the wall, and set it on the counter.
“Not necessary. Thank you.” He did look intrigued.
“My idea. Mel and Tripp get all the credit, though.”
“All Tripp can do is fly a plane and ride a horse.”
“Oh, he’s got a few more skills than that.”
When Tate seemed about to continue their mock argument, she nudged his arm. “Just open it, okay?”
It seemed a little selfish to be the only one to see his expression when he unwrapped the gift, but she didn’t care. He held up the clock—face glowing with astonishment and gratitude—and it was exactly the reaction she’d wanted.
“It’s the house.” He traced the outline over the glass.
“Yep.”
“And the mountains.”
She nodded.
“Bex.” His voice was hushed.
“All I did was suggest it to Mel. The one she made for Spence was so beautiful I thought you might like one, too.”
“I more than like it.”
He did. That was very obvious. Tate said, “I’m not even going to guess where you want me to hang it. You choose.”
“It’s your kitchen.”
“Doesn’t matter. You choose.”
She found the perfect spot, above the nook for a table and chairs. There was a bay window and the clock was the right size to fit just above it. Bex pointed. “I’d put it there.”
She’d almost said: If this was my house, I’d put it there.
Tate caught her around the waist, his mouth warm as it pressed against hers. He murmured, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed him back.
“I bet there is a hammer around here somewhere and a stray nail or two. I’ll put it up tonight. Did Tripp really help make it?”
She nodded. “Mel did the design, of course, but he cut out the metal. I keep telling her she needs to add the custom clocks to her business, but she’s busy as it is. Maybe she needs an assistant. I do think clocks like this would be in demand.”
“I do, too.”
“Dad! Dad. Come and see! This is really cool.” Ben was trying to whisper, not quite pulling it off. “You’ve got to come out and see.”
Two moose stood at the edge of the pasture. The boys were entranced, quiet for once, just watching as the giant animals grazed. Bex saw that Tate was no less focused.
Minutes later, he turned to her. “This is exactly why I moved here,” he murmured.
“It’s wonderful.”
“Oh, yes, it is.” But he was looking at her.