A Ranch Between Them, page 13
“I’m buying a parcel of land there from the Larsons.”
“Is there a house?”
He pointed to the butt end of the camp trailer just visible behind the barn. “That is my house.” And had been his house for years.
Katie gave a considering nod. “Cozy.”
“Well, you know,” he said as he pulled off his gloves. “Those tiny-house things are popular now. Kind of the same.”
“Exactly the same.” She pulled a chocolate bar out of her jacket pocket, broke it in two and handed him half without asking. Then she broke a piece off her half and popped it into her mouth. “I like having space to spread out. Not that I had any in San Francisco. Four of us were jammed into a two-bedroom apartment and could still barely make ends meet.”
“Yeah. At least I won’t have to share my space.”
“It wasn’t that bad. The biggest issue was closet space, but fortunately, Amanda, the woman I shared my bedroom with, was something of a wardrobe minimalist, so I had enough room for most of my clothes.”
“Did you like living there?” He was genuinely curious, because she did not seem to want to go back.
“I enjoyed the energy. And there are parts of the city I truly miss.” She leaned her forearms on the top brace. “But as soon as I started home, I felt like I was escaping something I didn’t even know I needed to escape from. It wasn’t the city itself,” she said quickly. “It was the life I’d made there.” She gave a small shrug. “I’d love to go back and visit. Hang out in my favorite places, but—”
“You don’t want to live there.”
“It’s not home. This is home.” She broke off another piece of chocolate. “And how is it that I asked you a question about your future plans and we ended up talking about me?” She leveled a look his way and he shifted his gaze.
“Not much to tell. I have earnest money down on a parcel that isn’t on the market yet.”
“What’s the holdup?”
“Abe Larson’s shirttail relatives contested the will. After the judge has his say, things should move forward.”
“What’s your time frame?”
“Before the new year.” That was what Stan had told him the last time he’d asked.
“It would feel great to actually own something.”
He gave her an odd look. “You mean like you own this?” He gestured to the ranch buildings.
“Grandma owns all of it, and then it’ll go to a partnership with me and Nick and Cassie. So I guess I will own part of the ranch, but it isn’t like I can sell it or anything.”
“But no matter what, you have a place to live.”
“Yes. I do.” She came to stand a few feet in front of him, folding her arms over her chest. “What of it?”
“I...”
She lifted her eyebrows as she waited, and Brady had a sudden urge to smile. “Are you challenging me?”
“Uh-huh.” Her gaze did not waver. “But if you have to ask, then I’m not doing it right.”
“No,” he deadpanned, wanting very much to reach for her, pull her closer. “You’re doing okay.”
Don’t think too hard.
“You keep pointing out the differences between our circumstances, like I’m too thick to have caught on the first time you said it.”
True. But because Katie had always been secure, he didn’t know if she understood what it was like to not be secure. To live how he’d lived—how he would likely keep living as he figured out how to make payments on his land—with no real safety net. Rosalie had provided him a net after his last fall, but that had been a fluke. There would be no one to help next time he stumbled, because he was not going to continue relying on the kindness of the Callahan family.
“Just stating facts.”
“Again, and again.”
“Twice.”
Her lips curved. “You’ve been counting.”
He felt like smiling again. She brought her hands up to let them rest lightly on his chest, but she did not move closer. “Trust yourself, Brady. Trust me.”
Stop being defensive. The unspoken message was clear.
He was about to tell her that he’d try when the sound of hooves on metal brought both of their heads around to find Lizzie Belle once again standing proudly on the hood of Brady’s truck.
Katie started toward the door, then came to an abrupt stop as Brady touched her arm. Her gaze flashed up to his. “I’m sorry. I meant to keep an eye on her.”
“I know you got an A in shop and all, but would you like help building a more secure goat pen? One with something for her to climb?”
“That would be fantastic.”
“I take it she’s not going back to Gloria anytime soon?”
“It all depends on the Taylors.” She started toward the truck again and Brady fell in step. “I feel so bad about Gloria and my grandmother starting their dream business, only to find themselves contending with bad neighbors—on both sides.”
“I imagine that does take some of the joy out of the operation.”
“They’re tough women.”
“But like you say, they shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff.”
“Exactly.” When she reached the truck, she held out her hand and crooned soft words as she coaxed Lizzie Belle close enough to grab her collar and then swing the little goat into her arms, only getting one hoof in the face in the process.
She set the goat on the ground while keeping hold of her collar. “I’ll put her in the backyard again. I found out how she escaped yesterday and plugged the hole in the fence behind the honeysuckle. I can’t keep her in there forever, though, because she’s eating the honeysuckle.”
“Note to self. Do not get a goat for a pet.”
“But she is kind of cute.” Katie smiled up at him and all he could think was that she was cute, or rather, beautiful.
“Yes. She is.” He felt his expression soften. The goat was cute. Katie was beautiful. And this time on the ranch felt special. But temporary situations—holidays, vacations—always felt special because of their fleeting nature. He would do well to remember that.
“After we get her corralled, would you like to visit my property?” he asked, ignoring all the warning bells going off in his head.
A look of surprise lit Katie’s face. “Yes.”
“I want to take some pictures so that I can make plans for a shed and pole barn, and since weather is coming, I need to do it before the place gets snowed in.”
“Maybe we should go now.”
“Right now?”
She nodded.
“And leave Houdini unattended?” he asked warily.
“No. We can bring her with us.”
* * *
KATIE GAVE BRADY bonus points for not only agreeing to take the goat, but to also allowing Lizzie Belle into his truck for the trip, although he took the precaution of putting down a protective tarp on the rear seat.
The trip to Brady’s property took close to an hour, although, as he noted before starting, it would have only taken ten minutes as the crow flies. The property was located on the back side of the low-lying Granger Range, which separated the Ambrose Valley from the Hayden Valley, and because they were not crows, they had to drive around the toe of the Granger Range to get to Brady’s property.
After unlocking a gate that marked the boundary of Larson land, they drove another mile to the small cluster of buildings beneath skeletal trees, and Katie could tell from a distance that the place wasn’t inhabited—had probably not been inhabited for years.
Brady drove under a skinny log archway and parked near a weathered barn. The house, which stood fifty feet away from the barn, had broken windows and a hole in the roof. The outbuildings were in similar shape. But despite the dilapidated buildings, the site was beautiful, nestled in the curve of the small river with a spectacular view of the valley.
“You got the homestead.”
“I did. But believe it or not, these old buildings didn’t add to the value of the land.”
Katie could believe it. It might be possible to save the barn, but the house and outbuildings were beyond hope.
“The last time the place was occupied was in the 1970s. But it has a well and power. I could have bought a larger undeveloped parcel nearby for the same price, but after calculating in the cost of bringing in electricity and well-drilling, I was better off taking this smaller piece and tearing down the buildings.”
Katie turned a slow circle, taking in the utter loneliness of the deserted ranch, then met Brady’s gaze. He was watching her closely, maybe waiting for her to pass judgment.
“Why here, Brady? Why choose a place that’s so isolated?” She thought she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear Brady’s take. Actually, she wondered if he would even answer. He surprised her.
“The place kind of chose me. Abe Larson Jr., will carry the loan. I can’t qualify for a mortgage, so my choices are very limited.”
Katie could see that it cost him to confess his circumstances, so instead of asking more questions, she walked toward the old house, Lizzie Belle trotting after her. The insides were wrecked, but there was a beautiful old iron sink hanging from the wall. “You should try to reclaim that.”
“Yeah.” He’d followed her across the broken porch boards and reached out to take the goat’s collar as she started climbing through the window. “I will. It’ll look nice in my camp trailer.”
She smiled a little and moved down the porch to look in through the next broken window. “You’ll probably have neighbors eventually?”
“I’m sure of it. People are always looking for prime Montana land, and this is a perfect spot for some rich-guy getaway.” His mouth crooked up at the corner. “Poor-guy getaway, too.”
Katie left the porch and walked toward the barn. “What would you have done if you hadn’t found this place?”
“I don’t know.”
He spoke quietly, as if the thought had weighed on him before.
“Well, I guess the important thing is that you did find it.”
“Yeah. I’ll get a job on another ranch once I’m in better shape and rebuild as I can.”
Brady unlatched the handmade iron hasp and opened the barn door. The building was surprisingly empty, and Lizzie Belle showed no interest in going inside. Instead, she pulled up a dried weed and started munching.
“I imagine the souvenir hunters cleaned it out,” he said before closing the door again. He stared out over the valley, then shifted his attention back to her. “As to what I would have done, the honest answer is that I would have ended up in a low-rent place in or around Gavin, saving all the money I could and building a credit rating so that I could eventually buy a place of my own. The way prices are skyrocketing, I don’t know if I could have saved fast enough to qualify for anything.”
“That’s a concern,” she agreed.
Brady walked back toward the truck and leaned against the grille, folding his arms over his chest as he stared out over the panoramic view. He frowned, as if debating, then glanced toward Katie.
“I actually have a bigger plan for this place.”
“What’s that?” She was surprised at how softly she spoke, as if she was afraid that if she appeared too interested, he might clam up.
“I’m going to wait until the area starts to develop—and according to Stan, it will—then I’m going to sell at a profit and sink that money into another place. Something closer to town, with a house. And by that time, I’ll have a job history and maybe qualify for a mortgage on a bigger piece of property.”
“Good plan.”
“I kind of lucked out. If it hadn’t been for Stan and the Larsons, I would have suffered the consequences of thinking I’d ride broncs forever and then finding out I couldn’t.”
“If it hadn’t been for Stan, you might not have considered riding broncs forever.” You might have gone to college like you promised Will.
Brady didn’t seem to notice that she knew more than she ought to, thanks to her discussion with Nick. “Touché,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows.
“Were you winding down career-wise before your accident?”
He gave his head a solemn shake. “Nope. I’d planned to keep riding until I couldn’t.”
“And that’s how it worked out.”
He frowned at her. “Rubbing it in?”
Katie gave an innocent shrug. “Stating a fact.”
He tipped his hat back, staring off across the valley, his lips pressing flat. “I should have been able to ride that mare. I’d studied her, knew what she’d do.”
“You couldn’t have known that she would fall on you.”
“My center was off.”
“Did the fight affect you?”
“You know about that.”
“I did a cyberstalk,” she confessed.
“It didn’t help. I got clocked pretty good. My timing was off, that’s for sure. As was my balance.” He gave her a sideways look. “I didn’t do it, by the way.”
“Do what?” Katie knew what, but she felt the need to say something.
“I didn’t fool around with that bull rider’s fiancée. I don’t know what she told him or why, but she wasn’t even on my radar.”
“Did you do something to her by accident?”
“I think she was trying to make the guy jealous.”
“Why you?”
“We talked sometimes, but it was never...” He let out a breath. “It was in Laundromats on the road, or while in line at concession stands waiting for a hamburger. I never gave her any reason to think...”
“Well, that ticks me off.”
His head came up and he frowned.
“You could have been killed.” Katie shifted her gaze to the gravel near the toe of her shoe. And that would have ruined her.
“Hey.”
She looked up.
“It’s over and done, okay.”
“Maybe you’ve had time to get over the injustice, but I haven’t, having just found out about it.”
“Katie,” he said patiently. “It’s not your job to get over the injustice. And for the record, I’m not over it, either, but I’m not going to waste my brain cells worrying about injustice. I’ve learned to live with it and not let it consume me.”
Her jaw muscles were clenched, and Brady reached out to lightly touch her face as if to smooth away the tension. “You look the way I felt when you told me you’d been mugged.”
The gentle stroke of his fingers effectively shifted her attention from injustice—for a few seconds, anyway. “Filled with impotent rage?”
“Uh...yeah.” He let his hand drop, but his gaze remained locked on her face. “Do you care if we discuss the future instead of the past?”
He spoke quietly, but there was something in his tone that told Katie that he needed to focus on the future—that he’d spent enough time dealing with the past. “Fine,” she said simply, even though she still had questions.
He gestured toward the remains of a rock foundation. “I’m going to make use of that foundation and build a pole barn there...”
By the time he finished explaining his planned improvements and taking photos, the sun was getting low in the sky and Lizzie Belle was bedded down next to the rear tire of the truck, chewing her cud.
“It looks like you have things under control,” Katie said as she urged the little goat to her feet.
“I don’t want to end up in an apartment or a beat-up trailer on the edge of town for the rest of my life. I have to make up for lost time, and if I watch the dollars, this will work out.”
When Brady shut the back door after loading Lizzie Belle, Katie realized just how close they were to one another. Really close. Feel the heat of his body close.
Excellently close.
“I’m not going to think too hard,” he murmured before leaning down to kiss her.
Katie brought her hand up to caress his cheek as he lifted his head, then let it fall back to her side. “Me, either,” she said with a small lift of her eyebrows.
Brady’s lips were still curved into a smile as he settled in behind the wheel for the trip back to the ranch, and Katie realized that he looked a lot more relaxed than she felt.
Because at the moment, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him again.
CHAPTER TEN
BRADY HAD JUST drained the oil on the big tractor when the sound of a vehicle caught his attention. Katie was in the main house pricing out windows for her greenhouse and he was in charge of Lizzie Belle, who was bounding around the stacked hay bales, clambering to the top, then bounding down and running in little goat circles.
Brady wiped his hands on a shop rag as he went to the open bay door and watched as the older Ford truck swung in a half circle and came to a stop near the bay.
Travis McGuire.
Lizzie Belle made a dash for the newcomer, but Brady caught her by the collar and pulled her to a stop as Travis got out of his truck. Brady honestly had no idea how much Travis knew about what had gone down between Brady and Will, but he assumed Will must have talked to his son about it. Vented, if nothing else.
“Hey, Brady.” Travis sounded a whole lot friendlier than his dad had, which had Brady relaxing his defensive stance an iota. Maybe the son didn’t hold the same grudges as the father. Why should he?
Travis had been four years ahead of Brady in high school and had enjoyed a rather stellar rodeo career, thanks in part to his dad’s steady coaching. Then, when Travis headed off to college, Will had taken Brady as a protégé, just as he’d taken on Brady’s father years before.
Will and Brady’s dad had shared a close relationship, more like a father and son than a coach and student according to Carl Callahan, and as near as Brady could tell, Will had decided that if he couldn’t save the father, he was going to save the son.
