A Rich Man for Dry Creek / a Hero for Dry Creek (17 page)

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Authors: Janet Tronstad

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Religious

BOOK: A Rich Man for Dry Creek / a Hero for Dry Creek
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“Ah, here we go.” Garrett relaxed.

Someone had turned a light on in the kitchen.

 

The morning sun still had not made its way completely over the mountains so Nicki didn't risk looking out the window this time. She focused on filling the pot with water. Once that was done, she'd start the coffeemaker and sit down again. It was a good thing she didn't have many chores to do today.

The knock on the kitchen door came just as the pot was filled with water. Nicki calmed herself. No need to panic. She told herself that the still falling snow had muffled the sound of someone driving up. It must be Lester.

Lester Wilkerson was her neighbor—and friend, Nicki added to herself somewhat guiltily. The fact that he made her nervous wasn't his fault. So far she'd managed to derail most of his hints about getting married, but he didn't seem discouraged.

Nicki figured she would eventually marry Lester, but she just needed more time to get used to the idea. She had no illusions about why Lester was interested in marrying her. His land ran along the east side of the Redfern Ranch, and he had his eye on more grazing area for his cattle.

Nicki knew some people wouldn't see that as a good reason to get married. But Nicki preferred it to some nonsense about love. Land stayed with a person. Love, on the other hand, could fly away at any time.

Lester didn't expect love and neither did Nicki. They would suit each other well. And things between them would be better once they actually got married. Nicki hadn't been able to bring herself to meet Lester's lips yet when he attempted his clumsy kisses, but she supposed she'd come to accept him before long.

In the meantime, Nicki expected Lester would continue his plodding courtship. He had started going into Dry Creek early every morning to pick up the mail for both ranches and then coming over to have coffee with her and Reno.

Yesterday morning Lester had bought her a lavender orchid in a plastic box. The petals were waxy and the flower felt artificial even though it was real. Still, it was a sensible flower for snowy weather in Montana and Nicki appreciated that. The brief yearning she'd had in her heart for roses was easily stamped down. She was a practical woman and should be pleased with a practical flower. Roses wouldn't last long here.

Nicki flipped the switch on the coffeemaker before she wiped her wet hands on her chenille robe. She limped over to the door and looked out the small window. All she could make out through the frosted glass was the general shape of a man.

It had to be Lester on the other side of that door, but Nicki wasn't fool enough to just open it for anyone unless she was ready.

She looked over by the ancient refrigerator. There it was. Reno had bought a thick-handled broom at a farm auction last year. Then he had taught her how to hit with it. They were both thinking of that stubborn cow's head when she practiced her swing, but it'd stop a man as quick as a cow. She brought it over.

Nicki unlocked the door and opened it.

Her jaw dropped and she stared.

If it had been the Boston Strangler on the other side of the door, she wouldn't have been able to raise the broom in defense of herself.

It was him. Prince Charming. Flakes of snow sparkled in his hair. He sparkled everywhere. His teeth sparkled. His eyes sparkled. Even the shine on his shoes sparkled. But, as much of a fairy-tale prince as he appeared to be, one thing was clear. “You're real.”

Chapter Two

G
arrett waited for the woman to finish her sentence. He thought she was going for “real cold” or maybe “real lost.” Even “real strange” would do, but the sentence just hung in the air.

Garrett looked past the woman into the kitchen of the house, but he didn't see anyone else there. Having a woman answer the door certainly complicated things. He'd assumed Mr. Redfern was an old bachelor or maybe an old widower. The woman he'd brought up here wouldn't welcome the presence of another woman, especially not someone twenty years younger than her.

“Good morning.” Garrett cleared his throat.

The woman still stared at him.

Garrett looked at her. She seemed dazed. Maybe she was a little slow. He softened his voice. “Sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for your husband.”

The woman's eyes widened and her voice squeaked. “My husband?”

Nicki began to realize something very important. Prince Charming was standing on her porch talking about husbands and she hadn't combed her hair. Or washed her face. Or put on any clothes except her ratty old robe. Oh, my, she was a mess.

“I can wait for him outside. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable with him around.”

“He's not—” Nicki breathed. “I mean, I'm not married.”

This is where the music starts, Nicki thought to herself. Her heart literally tingled. She'd been wrong all those years. Fairy tales did come true. Forget about her boots. Forget about that waxy orchid in her refrigerator. They didn't matter. Her world had shifted on its axis because Prince Charming was here. Any second now he was going to hold out his arms to her and she was going to float away into some beautiful fairy-tale land where totally impractical rose petals would softly fall on them as they waltzed together. Just like in her dreams.

The prince frowned. “I must have the wrong place,” he said, and then turned to walk away.

Nicki gasped. This wasn't how the story was supposed to end. The prince didn't just leave before one rose petal even had time to fall. “It's cold. It'll only take a minute for you to warm up inside.”

Nicki stepped back so the man could come into the kitchen.

Prince Charming didn't go into the kitchen, but he came close enough to the door to feel the heat. Nicki forgot to breathe. Outside, the shadows and half-light of the morning had hidden all but the outline of the man's face. But up close in the light she'd turned on in the kitchen—well, his nose and chin were classical; his eyes were a smoldering pewter; his raven hair was thick and wavy. And there—when he smiled—was a deep dimple in his chin.

Nicki was staring. She knew it. But all she was able to do was stand there leaning on the open door as the man stood on the porch. Even the cold wind blowing into the house didn't make her move.

Nothing could make her move—and then she heard the slam of a car door.

“Garrett,” a woman's voice called out in exasperation. “Garrett—where are you?”

Nicki's heart sank when “Garrett” turned in response to the woman's call.

Nicki looked out the open door and saw…
her.

The woman was wearing one of those glamorous wide-brimmed hats so Nicki couldn't see her face but, even without seeing the woman's face, there was no mistaking the fact that she was beautiful. Blond and svelte—with enough gold draped around her neck to bankroll a small kingdom.

Why was it, Nicki thought, that when Prince Charming finally showed up on her doorstep, he had Cinderella in the car with him?

Nicki's eyes looked down at the woman's feet. Yes, the woman was Cinderella right down to her tiny little feet perched on some ridiculously high-heeled shoes that did little to protect against the snow.

Nicki expected the man to go to the woman, but he didn't. She heard Hunter's low vibrating growl as the woman walked closer, but the dog didn't leave the man's side. Garrett put his hand down and rested it on Hunter's head. The dog stopped growling. “Maybe you could tell me how to get to the Redfern Ranch. I'm looking for Mr. Redfern.”

“Reno?” Having a stranger ask for her brother was almost as shocking as seeing some unknown man silence Hunter with a touch. The dog never let anyone touch him except Reno.

“No, it's Charles Redfern I'm looking for.”

“My father is dead.”

“Oh. Are you sure? Mr. Charles Redfern?”

“Of course I'm sure.”

“Garrett,” the woman from the car called out to the man.

“Your friend—” Nicki had to look around the man to see the woman from the limousine “—she sounds angry.”

“I'll get to her in a minute.” Garrett reached into his pocket and pulled out the diamond ring that the woman insisted belonged to Charles Redfern. The ring had found one of the holes in the pocket of Garrett's uniform and it kept falling out at the most awkward times like last night when he was talking to that kid in the café, getting directions to the ranch. Garrett wanted to be rid of it. The woman before him was the man's daughter. That was enough for him. “This ring belongs to you now, I guess.”

Nicki stared at the ring. It was a delicate ring with one small center diamond and a circle of fiery opals around it. She heard the sound of the woman muttering angrily, but Nicki didn't turn to look again. She couldn't be bothered with Cinderella.

Nicki wondered how a hallucination could be this real. But it must be a hallucination. The man was wearing a tuxedo and holding out an engagement ring that he said belonged to her. And something about the memory of it made it seem as if he was right.

“It's real,” Garrett said, as if sensing her disbelief.

“I—I don't think—” Nicki heard her voice squeak. Oh, my. “Could you—could you—pinch me?”

Garrett froze. Surely the woman didn't want him to pinch her, but she looked as if she was going to faint.

“Please.”

As the woman's face went whiter, the green of her eyes grew deeper. Like emeralds, Garrett finally decided. They were like muted emeralds. Deep pools of muted emeralds. A man could be pulled into those eyes and drown before he knew it. She really was quite…unusual. But still. “I can't pinch—”

He thought she was going to faint.

He slipped the ring back in his pocket and reached out to pinch her, but found himself holding her arms instead. He couldn't pinch her if he wanted to. Not through the thick robe she wore. But he had to do something.

So he kissed her. On the lips.

He meant it to be a pinch of a kiss. Just a peck to say he hoped she didn't faint. But she gasped, and he—well, he forgot why he was kissing her. He just knew that he was experiencing the sweetest kiss he'd ever shared with anyone. He didn't want it to end.

Nicki couldn't breathe. She'd never been kissed by a hallucination, but she figured it couldn't be like this. She really thought she'd have to faint after all.

“Oh, for Pete's sake, I'll pinch her!” The woman's annoyed voice penetrated Nicki's fog just before she felt the sleeve of her robe being raised.

Cinderella used her nails to deliver a solid pinch.

“Ouch!” The fog left Nicki instantly. She was definitely not hallucinating.

Nicki looked up at the man. He looked dazed. But the petite woman standing beside him had lifted the brim of her hat and didn't look the least bit vague.

Oh, my. Nicki suddenly wished desperately that she was dreaming after all. The woman's hair was bleached so blond, it shimmered in the faint morning light. Her lips pouted a well-penciled pink. Diamonds dangled from her ears and hung from her graceful neck. The woman looked like she was forty, but Nicki knew that she would turn fifty-five this coming May 13.

“What are you doing here?” Nicki said the words. They sounded defensive to her own ears. But then, she decided, she was entitled to be defensive. The woman hadn't even written in twenty-two years. If it wasn't for the photos in the news clippings that came in the mail periodically, Nicki wouldn't even recognize her now.

The woman's jaw lifted slightly. “You must be the housekeeper. I came to see Mr. Redfern. Would you tell him I'm here?”

Nicki wished with all her heart that she had gone with Reno into Billings. She could have crawled home if the truck had broken down. The woman standing before her didn't recognize her, but Nicki would know the woman's face anywhere. It appeared life really wasn't a fairy tale, after all.

Nicki opened the kitchen door farther. “Maybe you should come inside.”

Nicki let the woman walk in front of her and enter the kitchen, but she didn't follow her. She needed to wait.

Nicki forgot she was still holding the end of the broom handle until she felt it pressing against the length of her thigh. That meant it was not only pressing into Garrett's leg, it was also resting on his foot. “I'm sorry, I—my brother makes me use this when he's not here.”

Nicki and Garrett were standing facing each other in the middle of the doorway to the kitchen. The main door swung out over the porch, letting cold air come in. The screen door swung back into the kitchen, letting warm air seep out. Neither one seemed able to move.

Garrett's ears were ringing. He decided it must be the altitude. His ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton, as well. “Huh?”

“The broom. He wants me to carry it.” Nicki told herself she was barely making sense. She was feeling a little dizzy. But it was only natural. She needed more than a minute to think before she faced her mother.

“Whatever for—?”

“So I can hit heads.” Nicki knew she should step aside so they could close the kitchen door, but she was afraid her legs wouldn't work. She'd just stand where she was for a bit more. She needed to focus on the man's face instead of the woman in the kitchen. No, his face wasn't a good thing to look at, either. How could a man be so sexy that even his Adam's apple made her wobbly?

“You want to hit me? On the head? You'll need a stepladder.”

Nicki looked up and saw in surprise that it was true. The man was a good six inches taller than herself. It wasn't often that a man was that tall. “You're supposed to be a cow.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I'm supposed to hit the cows' heads with the broom handle. Just on the forehead. To show them which way to go.”

“I see,” Garrett said. He seemed bewildered as he put his hands around the broom handle so she didn't drop it.

“It doesn't hurt them,” Nicki added. She let the broom fall into his hands. Now, why did she have to tell the man something like that? He'd think she was a barbarian. Not that his opinion mattered. He was only her mother's—Nicki stopped herself. Just who was the man in her mother's life anyway?

“Have you known her long?” Nicki jerked her head in the direction of her mother. She could hear her mother inside the kitchen as she walked across the floor to the counter where the coffee was.

The hostility in this woman's voice cut through Garrett's haze and reminded him the other woman was Chrissy's friend. “Long enough. And you?”

Nicki gave an abrupt laugh. “Me? I barely knew her.”

The wind had blown snow across the wooden porch. Nicki could see white puffs coming out of her mouth when she talked. She could feel the goose bumps on her arms, and the frozen boards of the porch chilled her feet even though she had her winter slippers on. She was used to the weather in Montana and she was still cold. “She won't want to stay for long so you might as well go inside and get warmed up. It's freezing out here.”

Garrett nodded. The cold would explain the tingling he still felt all over his body. Yes, that would be it. And his breathing. That would explain why his breath was coming hard. But as the woman backed up farther against the doorjamb, all he could think about was that she had to be even colder than he was. “You go ahead—you must be freezing. You're in your pajamas.”

The sun was rising and the day was taking on a faint pink glow. Garrett couldn't help but notice how delightful the woman's face was when she blushed.

“It's a robe.”

Nicki had never wished for silk in her life until now. Her chenille robe must be twelve years old. It had been faithful and warm, but it was not what a woman dreamed about wearing at a moment like this.

Not that, Nicki assured herself, it would matter for very long. The man in front of her would be leaving with her mother and, if Nicki had anything to say about it, that would be happening soon. Nicki pulled on the ties of her robe to knot it more securely. She was a sensible ranch woman. She didn't need silk. She didn't need her mother. She didn't need some fantasy prince. She had her land, her boots and her pride. That had to be enough.

Garrett looked at the woman. The cold had turned her nose red and the wind had blown strands of her hair this way and that way until they finally just gave up and tangled around her head. Her hair was neither permed nor colored nor highlighted. She kept it brown—not honey-brown, not mahogany-brown. Just plain brown. And she didn't have a dab of lipstick anywhere.

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