Cowboy After Dark Read online

  That was the part making her stomach churn. She couldn’t face the idea of bringing another person so close, at least not until she figured out who she was and where she was going. She used to know, but she didn’t anymore.

  Talking with Chelsea had made her realize that her current job was only a placeholder, something to pay the rent and buy groceries. And she really didn’t know what to do with her spare time. Maybe stained glass would turn out to be the exact thing she needed. But if her job wasn’t fulfilling, then she should probably start there and figure out what she really wanted to do to earn money.

  Adding a man to the mix wouldn’t help. He’d have suggestions. Men always seemed to have suggestions, at least the ones she’d known. This was something she needed to work through on her own.

  She’d miss Liam after this week was over, and not only because of the sex. He was good company and a compassionate friend. But despite agreeing to a short affair, he was at heart a long-term kind of guy.

  A week while they were both in Sheridan didn’t bother her conscience too much. Chances were he wouldn’t find his perfect partner this week. If she had any inkling that a wedding guest could be that person, she’d back away immediately. Really she would.

  She walked into the kitchen hoping to find Liam there, but once again she was disappointed. Chelsea sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast and chatting with Rosie but otherwise the kitchen was deserted.

  Rosie and Chelsea greeted her with smiles and comments about how rested she looked. She was glad she’d insisted on leaving at a somewhat reasonable hour last night so she hadn’t walked into the kitchen looking like a zombie. Rosie wanted to fix her some breakfast, but she insisted on doing it herself.

  “Then I’ll make another pot of coffee,” Rosie said. “This is the quiet before the storm, so we should sit and enjoy it.”

  “I hope that’s not literally true.” Chelsea left the table to peer out the kitchen window at the clouds hanging over the Big Horn Mountains, then checked her phone. “Looks like a few showers midday but it’ll clear by four, which is perfect timing.”

  “So where is everybody?” Hope cracked two eggs into a small frying pan.

  “Last-minute errands in town,” Rosie said. “Liam and Grady offered to pick up the cake and flowers. Herb and Finn are getting the matching vests for the four guys. They had to order them from a place in Jackson, and they didn’t show up until late yesterday afternoon.”

  “I saw a picture,” Chelsea said. “They’ll be stylin’. I like a man in a vest.”

  “You and me, both,” Rosie said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I already had my hair done, but Edie’s doing Lexi’s and Phil’s while Damon, Cade and Karl are... God knows what those men are up to. I told them not to drive out here and pester us because they’d only get in the way.”

  “Obviously I decided to stay here and keep Rosie company,” Chelsea said. “It gave us a chance to talk.”

  “Oh!” Hope turned, the spatula in her hand. “Am I interrupting? I can eat on the porch.”

  “You’re not interrupting a thing,” Rosie said. “Chelsea was just filling me in on how well Finn’s doing.”

  “With his microbrewery?” Hope dished her eggs and got a fork from the silverware drawer.

  “O’Roarke’s is doing well,” Chelsea said, “but the key thing is that Finn is learning how to balance ownership of the business with having a personal life.”

  “Chelsea’s teaching him that.” Rosie grabbed the coffee carafe and a mug for Hope from the counter. “He’d turned into a real workaholic, but he’s a lot better since he and Chelsea moved in together.”

  “That can change things.” For good and bad.

  “I wasn’t even sure if it would work.” Chelsea added cream to her coffee. “Thank goodness it did. We’ve talked about making it official, but we’re both really busy, so we have to find a good time.”

  “I wish you’d have the wedding here,” Rosie said, “but I know your folks are in Washington.”

  “They are, plus a whole bunch of relatives.” Chelsea leaned over and squeezed her arm. “Nothing says we can’t repeat our vows in a small ceremony at the ranch.”

  Rosie’s blue eyes sparkled. “I would purely love that.”

  “So would Finn. So would I, in fact. I adore this ranch.” She turned to Hope. “It’s your first visit, right?”

  Hope nodded as she ate. “It’s been great. Seeing Phil after all this time and then being able to meet everyone here has been wonderful. I’m so glad she invited me.”

  “Well, of course she would!” Chelsea laughed. “You stole flowers together. You’re bonded for life!”

  “We’re lucky Mrs. Eddleston was the forgiving type.” Hope picked up her coffee.

  “She’d have to be made of stone not to melt when she heard that song,” Rosie said. “If four girls appeared on my porch and sang to me, I couldn’t have stayed mad at them, either. And it’s not like I was a pushover.”

  Chelsea smiled at Hope. “I asked Phil if you’d written other songs and she said no, but that you were always writing something—stories, little plays, poetry. And you told me you weren’t artistic.” She gave her a mock frown. “You were holding out on me.”

  “Not really.” Hope kept her tone light. “I don’t do any of that now.”

  “Why not?”

  Hope shrugged. “The well ran dry.”

  “That’s too bad.” Chelsea gazed at her with a speculative look in her eyes. “You mean like writer’s block?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What a shame.”

  “The world has more than enough writers,” Hope said with a chuckle. She glanced over at Rosie. “Not to change the subject, but I never did ask you whether you, Edie and Lexi are coordinating your outfits for the ceremony.”

  “We most certainly are. Can’t have the men outshine us.”

  “You should see what she’s wearing,” Chelsea said. “Go get it, Rosie. It’s fabulous.”

  Rosie left the table and hurried through the living room.

  Chelsea leaned toward Hope. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I didn’t handle that very well. I shouldn’t have asked you why you stopped writing. I don’t know you well enough to ask such a personal question, and I apologize.”

  The concern in her voice had the oddest effect on Hope. Her throat closed, and tears spilled out of her eyes. Good God, was she crying?

  “Oh, Hope.” Chelsea covered her hand and squeezed.

  Drawing in a sharp breath, Hope raced out of the kitchen and nearly collided with Rosie. “Be right back!” she called as she ran down the hall. “Got something in my eye!”

  She was breathing hard by the time she closed the bathroom door, leaned against the sink and battled tears that she couldn’t let fall. What the hell was wrong with her? But deep down she knew. Being here was bringing up issues she’d foolishly thought she’d dealt with.

  Liam was making her feel things again and Chelsea, being creative herself, sensed that Hope was struggling after losing her outlet. Chelsea’s soul-deep understanding of Hope’s hidden pain had nearly caused a meltdown.

  This was not the time or place. Her high school friend was getting married in a few hours, and Phil didn’t need any drama on her special day. Getting involved with Liam had been a mistake.

  But ending things would only make them both miserable at a time when everyone was supposed to be filled with lightness and joy. Hope vowed to hold it together, although now Chelsea had seen a crack in her facade. With luck, Chelsea wouldn’t discuss that with Rosie.

  Blotting her eyes with a towel, she took several deep breaths and inspected herself in the mirror. She was flushed and her eyes were a little red, but that could happen if you got a foreign object lodged
in your eye.

  Chelsea and Rosie were laughing about something when she walked into the kitchen, which was a good sign that Chelsea hadn’t said anything to make Rosie worry. “So where’s this dress?” Hope asked.

  Rosie stood and held it up. “Ta-da!”

  “I love it.” Hope didn’t have to fake her response. The lace dress was a combination of Victorian and Western, with a high neck and graceful lines. “Do you have boots?”

  Reaching under the table, Rosie produced a pair that looked as if they buttoned up the side but in fact had a hidden zipper. “The women had all this picked out months ago,” Rosie said. “The guys waited until the last minute to order their vests.”

  “They’re embroidered,” Chelsea said, “so they all look like riverboat gamblers. At first they were going to wear coats, but the women nixed that idea. Coats would be hot and besides, we like how the vests emphasize their pecs.”

  “Perfect. I can hardly wait. This will be a beautiful wedding.”

  “As long as we don’t end up with a thunderstorm.” Rosie folded the dress over her arm and picked up her boots.

  “It wouldn’t dare,” Chelsea said.

  “I’ll be back in a flash,” Rosie said. “I hate to make you both work, but we need to organize the hors d’oeuvres before the men get back.”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” Chelsea said.

  “Me, too.” Hope glanced at Chelsea after Rosie left the room. “Did you tell her—”

  “Of course not. It was my fault that you got emotional. You have everything locked down for this event, and I respect that. I’m so sorry that I upset you.”

  “Obviously I still have some things to deal with.”

  “I know.” Chelsea met her gaze. “I wish to hell I wasn’t leaving tomorrow. I have no idea what happened, but I think you need a friend.”

  Hope swallowed. “I think so, too.” She hadn’t realized until this weekend that she’d denied herself close friends because they might probe too deep. But she needed friendship. Everyone did.

  “Come to Seattle if you can get away. We have room, and it’s a mellow city. Lots of creative vibes there.”

  “Thanks. I’ll consider it.” She gave Chelsea a quick hug. Then she sniffed and stepped back. “Too bad it’s too early for coffee and Baileys.”

  “Is it? The sun’s over the yardarm somewhere!”

  * * *

  LIAM HAD BEEN entrusted to carry in the multitiered wedding cake, which was protected by a specially designed box. He and Grady had argued who would carry it into the house. Liam maintained that it was more like a sculpture so Grady should be in charge. Grady had insisted that his sculptures wouldn’t be crushed if he dropped them, while Liam was used to balancing a raft full of tourists. Yeah, maybe he’d dumped one or two, but he’d retrieved them quickly. His record was impressive.

  Besides, Grady had held the boxed cake on his lap all the way from Sheridan, which he claimed was his valuable contribution to the effort. Not once had any portion of that tiered cake box touched the dashboard. They’d kept the AC on freeze to make sure the fancy decorations didn’t melt.

  While Liam didn’t want the responsibility of carrying in the cake, he accepted it because—bottom line—he was the oldest and he was used to being in charge of things. Grady had that much right. So Liam maneuvered up the porch with Grady in the lead like a seeing-eye cowboy. They’d left the flowers in the truck for now because the cake was the major deal. One slip and it was all over.

  They had a bad moment when the toe of Liam’s boot caught on the bottom step, but he didn’t go down. Even more important, he kept the cake level. He decided if he ever got married, there would be no cake. Cupcakes, maybe. Damon, of course, had to have the traditional wedding cake with the cute little bride and groom on the top. Liam had that embellishment in his shirt pocket.

  Once he was on the porch, he could hear country music coming from inside the house and women laughing. Sounded as if somebody had decided to get this party started.

  “I’ll hold the door open,” Grady said.

  “I’d appreciate that.” He had to turn sideways, but he got the box through the opening. Grady directed him toward the kitchen, where the music was playing.

  He heard Rosie cry out, “The cake!” but he couldn’t see a damn thing over the top of it.

  “Put it on the kitchen table for now,” Rosie said.

  “But where’s its final resting place?” Liam didn’t want to put it down in one spot and then watch some well-meaning bumblehead try to move it.

  “On the pool table,” Rosie said. “You got here a little sooner than I expected, and we don’t have it ready. Hang on. Hope, Chelsea, Grady, help me set up the cover and tablecloth.”

  Liam stood in the kitchen with the tiered box blocking his view while a current country favorites blasted in his ears. He could smell coffee and...Baileys? Surely not this early. By his calculations it was only a little past noon.

  “Okay, that does it.” Rosie appeared by his side and took his elbow. “I’ll guide you into the rec room. Be sure and step over the sill.”

  “I remember about the sill. Tripped on it a few times. Have you already busted out your favorite drink?”

  “A little bit.” Rosie laughed. “It’s a celebration, after all. Okay, you’re almost there. Easy does it. You’re at the pool table. Put it down. Gently...gently...there!”

  He set down the box with more relief than he felt bringing a raft up on shore with everyone still aboard.

  “Nicely done.”

  He turned to face Hope, who stood holding a coffee mug and wearing a saucy grin. “Having a good time?”

  “The best.” She took a swig of her special coffee. “I love this ranch.”

  “Good, because I love it, too.” But he couldn’t help wondering how loving this place fit in with ditching him at the end of the week. She’d effectively be cutting herself off from Thunder Mountain Ranch. Was she contemplating an extension of their relationship? He’d cautioned himself not to wish for that, but when she stood there smiling at him, her gray eyes filled with laughter, he did wish for it. Oh, yes, he definitely did.

  16

  THAT BRIEF EXCHANGE of smiles was all Liam was able to share with Hope for the next few hours. Although the wedding wasn’t until four, guests started arriving early. Ty Slater, a former Thunder Mountain foster boy, drove up from Cheyenne with his fiancée, Whitney Jones. Liam and Grady hadn’t seen Ty in years and they’d never met Whitney, so they had plenty to talk about.

  Close on Ty’s and Whitney’s heels came Brant Ellison, the gentle giant of the Thunder Mountain boys. He’d just finished training a new foal for a rancher up in Montana. On his way back through town, he’d stopped to pick up his girlfriend, Aria, and her brother Josh. Josh was recovering from a riding accident and used a cane to get around, but Liam didn’t think the guy would need it much longer.

  Rosie had mentioned Aria because she owned Lucy and Linus, the mare and colt Rosie and Herb were boarding. Brant had spent a couple of weeks training Linus from birth, and clearly the big guy had fallen hard for Aria. Last Liam had heard, Brant was constantly on the move training foals, but Aria didn’t seem to mind his frequent absences, and she obviously adored him, too.

  Liam could remember a time not so long ago when none of the guys from Thunder Mountain had been seriously involved. That seemed to be changing. It made sense, though. Most of them had reached an age when thoughts turned to settling down.

  Even he’d started thinking about it. He and Grady had discussed what they’d do if one of them found the right woman. Their shared apartment in the barn above Grady’s workshop wouldn’t work anymore. But no use worrying about it yet. He’d be foolish to expect something real to develop with Hope.

  In the middle of all the talk about we
ddings and engagements, Herb and Finn walked in with the vests, which everyone had to admire. Next Damon, Cade and Karl showed up with a plan to shoot pool until they had to get dressed for the ceremony.

  Liam personally kept them from moving the cake, which they’d been fully prepared to do. Muttering “Over my dead body” under his breath, he redirected the action by setting up a game of horseshoes in the side yard. Soon everyone drifted outside to play or cheer on the contestants.

  After a quick buffet lunch with wine, beer and Baileys, the party was in full swing. Everyone was there except the bride and two of her attendants, who planned to arrive by three.

  Liam wondered if he was the only one keeping an eye on the weather. Come to think of it, he was the most likely since weather was critical in his line of work. When Damon beat him at horseshoes and moved on to the next challenger, Liam rounded the house for a better view of the dark clouds hanging over the mountains.

  A moment later Herb joined him. “What do you think?”

  “Depends on whether they stay there or not. Chelsea said her weather app predicted Sheridan would be clear by four.”

  “The guy on TV said the same thing.”

  “I’ve learned to take those predictions as an educated guess.”

  Herb chuckled. “Wise man.”

  “Do you and Rosie have a plan B?”

  “Sort of. Rosie has her heart set on this sentimental idea of seeing them married in front of the cabin they built last summer. The new rec building would have been a safer choice.”

  “Yeah, it would.” Liam understood Rosie’s preference, though. The rec building had been built early last fall. It stood back behind the cabins and doubled as a classroom during the day and a place for the teenagers to hang out in the evening. Although it was extremely useful, no one would call it charming.

  “That’s my plan B.” Herb scratched his jaw. “But we’d have to get it ready in the next hour if we had any chance of being done by four. I doubt Rosie would go for that. Damon and Phil wouldn’t be happy about it, either.”

  Liam took another look at the thunderheads. Lighting flashed inside one of them, which was pretty but didn’t increase his confidence that the storm would pass by harmlessly. “How many guests are coming?”