Count On A Cowboy

Brooke stiffened, feeling Trent’s hand against her spine.

“Let’s sit over here.”

He directed her to an oval table in front of a picture window overlooking the pasture of grazing cattle.

She just realized she didn’t know much about this family. Only what was on the website for Bucking Q Cattle Company. “How many Quinns live here?”

“There’s just the three of them. Rory, Diane, his wife, and the one daughter, Laurel.”

Just one daughter that he knows about, she thought, looking out at the incredible mountains through the glass. “It must have been fun to grow up on a ranch.” She turned around to see Trent’s curious look.

“Yeah, it is, but there’s a lot of work, too.” He went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of iced tea. “Looks like Bill left some food here, too.”

Brooke wasn’t surprised. “I hope you don’t mind, but I also asked him to leave some of the food in the bunkhouse for the men.”

He stopped pouring the tea and stared at her.

Was he upset?

“I mean, they’ve worked hard today. It’s nice that they can have a good meal tonight. Chet talked very highly of Laurel.”

“They all think highly of Laurel, and yeah, the men were all invited to the wedding.”

“That’s nice.”

“You won’t find nicer people than Rory and Diane.”

She hoped she got a chance to find that out. “You’ve known them for a long time.”

He nodded. “Years ago, my dad, Wade, and Rory rode the rodeo circuit together. Then when they retired, Rory bought the Bucking Q and Dad came a few years later and bought the ranch next door, the Lucky Bar L. So you can say Rory’s known me since I was born.”

“If they’d been friends all these years, I bet your dad would know about Coralee.”

A distant look appeared on Trent’s face. “He might, but he died almost two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, hating that she was bringing up sad memories.

He nodded. “So am I. Since I’m only four years older than Laurel, I can’t remember something like that. When my folks settled here, Rory was married and had baby Laurel.”

“I guess I’m just going to have to get answers from Mr. Quinn.”

Trent brought the glasses to the table, then turned the chair around and straddled it. He took a long drink. “I never asked where you’re from.”

“Nevada. Las Vegas.”

“Are you older or younger than Laurel?”

Brooke froze a second. “Younger.” That wasn’t a lie.

He studied her closely, then asked, “What do you do in Las Vegas?”

“Right now, I’m a card dealer, but I just graduated college and I’m hoping to hear soon about a hotel-management position. That’s the reason I can’t stay long. It a great opportunity, especially with the added expense of my mother’s long-term care...”

Trent arched an eyebrow. “Are you thinking about asking for help from the Quinns?”

She reared back. “Of course not. Believe me, Mr. Landry, I know very well that Rory Quinn doesn’t owe my mother a thing.”

She started to stand, but Trent placed his hand on her arm to prevent her leaving.

“I apologize,” he said. “I’m protective of my friends, and today had to be the worst day to show up here.”

“I don’t doubt that, and I’m sorry for all your troubles. But I’m here now,” she countered. “And if Mr. Quinn calls you, you can let him handle it.”

“It’s Rory. Everyone calls him Rory.”

An ache touched deep in her chest. She would have liked to call the man Dad, but her mother had taken that choice away from both of them.

* * *

TWO HOURS LATER, Trent had finished canceling the rest of the wedding services, wishing he could cancel all the curious phone calls from guests, too. He finally turned off the ringer on the house phone, but watched to see if Rory called. Everything else he let go to the answering machine.

When Brooke went into the bathroom, Trent punched in Rory’s number again. He listened to the ringing until it went to voice mail.

“Rory, it’s Trent again. Please call me as soon as you can.” He ended the call as Brooke walked back into the kitchen.

“Did you call Rory again?”

“Yeah, but he’s still not answering,” he told her.

“Are you worried about him?”

Trent shook his head, but he was concerned. What if they’d found Aldrich? The man on the run could be dangerous. “Not the way you think. Rory’s easygoing, but Laurel can get pretty hot when she’s crossed. I wouldn’t want to be Jack Aldrich if she catches up to him. Which I hope she doesn’t since he’s broken the law and might not care how he gets away.”

“Broke the law?”

“Jack didn’t just run out on his wedding, he stole from us. He cleared all the money out of our escrow account.”

She gasped. “Oh, no. He worked for you?”

“The man was the general contractor hired to build several rental cabins for us. Laurel got involved with him. Jack fed her a bunch of romantic rubbish and the next thing we knew, the whirlwind romance turned into a quick wedding—” he checked his watch “—that should have taken place about an hour ago. The one good thing is that the wedding didn’t happen.”

Trent stood and walked to the window. He’d already said more than he intended, but soon the news would be all over town. He sighed and looked out, seeing the last of the sun going behind the mountains. Time was running out on what to do about Brooke Harper.

He turned around and she looked up at him with those wide eyes, as if she expected him to tell her something bad.

“Where are you staying in town?”

She looked up at him. “I don’t have a place yet. I drove straight here. Can you recommend a hotel?”

He’d seen her old car and knew she probably didn’t have much money to waste. Even knowing Brooke’s news could change the Quinn family forever he couldn’t send her away. Besides, he wanted her to stay close, especially because of the possibility she was Laurel’s sister.

“I know of a place,” he said. “That is, if you don’t mind the sparse furnishings.”

She wrinkled that cute nose. “How sparse?”

“Oh, the place has a nice bed and a table and chairs, but no cable or HBO.”

“I can afford a little more than basic.”

“But they’re ten miles away in town. I can promise you this place is clean—in fact, it’s brand-new. We just finished our first hunting cabin. I can get you some towels and sheets and a coffeepot, but that’s about all.”

“You mean stay here at the ranch?”

With his nod, she hesitated. “How do you think the Quinns will feel about that?”

“If you’ve been honest about why you’re here, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

A sudden look came over her face and he caught a slight resemblance to Laurel. Or had he just talked himself into seeing something?

“As long as it has electricity, the place sounds perfect to me,” she told him. “How much?”

“No charge for the first night. Then when Rory gets back, hopefully tomorrow, he’ll make a decision about lengthening your visit.”

Brooke’s gaze darted from his. “I’m not planning on staying that long. I only wanted to see Laurel.”

“I’d rather you talk with Rory first, especially since as far as I know, Laurel hasn’t been told anything.”

“All right, I promise not to say anything until I talk to Rory.” She smiled. “And thank you for letting me stay here.”

He sighed. “Now that’s settled, let’s eat some of the wedding supper. Seems someone should enjoy it.”

He went to the refrigerator and took out containers of chicken breasts and scalloped potatoes. There were rolls and sides of green beans and asparagus.

He was suddenly hungry, realizing he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. What about Brooke? When was her last meal? His gaze scanned her slender frame. She’d worked hard, too.

Yet, he got the feeling she was leaving a lot out of the story about Coralee. Or was it her nervousness from finally meeting her half sister? And if true, how would Laurel take this? She and Diane had always been close. Would this news change that?

He knew his way around the Quinns’ kitchen, having grown up here over the years The place had been like a second home for him and his brother, Chris. So much had changed since those days. His brother was gone, his parents had divorced and his father had passed away. And he’d finally come back home to exorcise the ghosts. That was still a work in progress.

He took down two plates from the cupboard and filled them with food, then put one in the microwave. Ten minutes later he was seated across from Brooke.

“This is delicious,” she told him.

“I agree. Bill and Bess are the best cooks in town. They also own a diner, the B&B Café, off Main Street. If you’re around long enough, you should stop by.”

He cut his chicken and ate a piece. “It’s just down-home cooking, but good. I’ve eaten enough MREs over the years to appreciate the real stuff.”

She stopped eating. “You were in the military?”

Nodding, he swallowed. “Over a dozen years in the army, Special Forces.”

“Were you deployed?”

A sudden sadness came over him as memories flashed in his head. “Three times. When my father passed away, I decided it was time to opt out so I came back and took over running the ranch.” He owed Wade Landry that much.

He looked at her to discover her watching him. Those emerald eyes were dark with emotion. “I’m glad you made it back home.” She swallowed and said in a raspy whisper, “Thank you for your service.”

When he’d been in uniform, he’d heard the words many times, but he felt her sincerity. He nodded, then looked down at his plate. His food was cold, and so was his appetite. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

She fought a yawn. “You piled a lot of food on our plates. Maybe I can save mine for later. Is there a microwave in the cabin?”

“Yeah. I’ll wrap it up for you to take it.” He stood and picked up her plate, found the foil and busied himself putting her food together.

This woman was getting to him, and that couldn’t happen. He didn’t know her at all, and that meant she was off-limits.

So keep your hormones in check. Your first and only job is to protect the Quinns.

From his experience, trouble came in all kinds of packages, especially tall, slender blondes with big emerald-green eyes that could turn a man inside out.

He glanced over his shoulder. Not going to happen.

* * *

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Trent pulled his truck in front of the recently completed log cabin. He climbed out and turned on a flashlight to find his way to the front door. He inhaled the scent of fresh-cut wood.

Maybe bringing Brooke here was a bad idea. She would be out here all by herself. Not that he should have to worry about her, but he did. After unlocking the door, he swung it open, reached inside for the switch and flipped on the lights. The small porch was illuminated and he waited for Brooke as she parked her compact next to his vehicle. She got out and reached into the backseat for a duffel bag, then walked to him.

“This is nice,” she remarked looking around.

“I know it still looks like a construction site, but in a few months with all the trees around it will be peaceful.”

“And isolated.” Just then off in the distance a coyote howled. She tensed.

“You’re used to a city that never sleeps, so of course this seems cut off from everything, but really it’s not that far from the ranch house. By road it takes longer.” He pointed over the rise. “In the morning if you head that way over the rise, you’ll see the house about a hundred and fifty yards away.”

“Okay.”

Taking the bag from her, he pushed open the door to show her the three-room cabin. He turned on another light in the small kitchen that overlooked the living space. There was a dark leather sofa pushed up against the wall, a table and two chairs on the other side. A large area rug covered the floors.

“This is lovely,” she said as she headed to the doorway that led to a bedroom that had a queen bed and a set of bunk beds against the other wall. Then she looked into the bath with a spacious tiled shower stall, a long counter with double sinks and a toilet.

“You say this is a hunting cabin?”

“Hunting and fishing.” He nodded behind him. “We’ve also started construction on a large building for meetings, and social gatherings.”

“Oh, that will be nice.” She smiled. “It’s surprising what people will pay to get away from life’s distractions.”

“You should know all about that, working in Las Vegas.”

She walked out to the common area. “Yes, during college I interned with a hotel that had me train with the concierge that booked special packages for corporations.”

“Sounds like you enjoy your work.”

She nodded. “Yes, I do. My degree is in hotel management.”

“My partnership with the Quinns is a small operation, and that’s how we want it. Less stress. Now that’s exactly what we have right now. Stress.” He shook his head. “Shows you can’t trust everyone. If you need anything, just call my cell.” They copied each other’s numbers. “Guess that’s it. I’ll be staying in the cabin next door so I can be here quickly. Good night.”

He walked out, climbed in his truck and drove off. Then she saw him stop just a few yards down the road. A few seconds later a light went on and she could see the outline of the cabin. Okay, she wasn’t alone. A warm feeling spread through her: she wasn’t used to being watched over.

* * *

TWO HOURS LATER, Brooke tugged at the multicolored quilt over her and leaned back against the queen-size bed’s carved headboard.

The silence was deafening. Not even a television for white noise, or a computer to get up and Google something.

She sat up. What was she doing here? She had a great opportunity for a job at a large chain hotel. She needed to be in Las Vegas. She couldn’t let this opportunity slip through her fingers. Not when she could get a better paying job to help with her mother. So much of Coralee’s special care wasn’t covered by her insurance.

The heck with it. Brooke finally got out of bed, but wrapped the quilt around her pajama-clad body to ward off the chill. She walked into the main room and turned on the wall heater, then sat down on the sofa. Only a soft light from the kitchen area illuminated the space.

She released a long breath, and looked around. This place was so different from her one-bedroom apartment in the shoddy part of town. Once she got her new job, she hoped she could afford to move. And if she could get her mother on better insurance that would help with some of the extra expenses.

Over her lifetime, Brooke had accepted Coralee’s faults and weaknesses—men being at the top of the list. So why would she walk away from a man like rodeo star Rory Quinn? Maybe he didn’t want Coralee. At the very least, wouldn’t he have paid child support for his children? And why did her mother tell Rory about only one baby?

Tears welled in her eyes as Brooke thought back to the years of struggle while Coralee tried to make it as a singer. She could even remember all her mother’s promises.

“All I need, sweetie, is that one big break, then we’ll have a nice home, and you can have all the toys and party dresses a little girl could want.”

There was never a big break, only more jobs in sleazy clubs, more drinking and men moving into their apartment to cover Coralee’s disappointment. Brooke shivered. Some of the men were frightening and others were abusive. And then there were the ones who’d stolen everything from them.

Years of overindulgence with alcohol and cigarettes, until Coralee’s voice and looks were gone. She could only find work as a waitress in a diner.

That job had ended last year when her fifty-two-year-old mother was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Then six months ago in January, Brooke found she couldn’t leave her alone any longer. Not when she began to wander off from the apartment, left water running in the bathtub, and took things from the store without paying.

She had no choice but to move Coralee into assisted-care living. She found a small group home that would take Alzheimer’s patients. Brooke was also lucky that she could work there to offset some of the cost of the care.

Brooke wiped the tears from her cheeks. She didn’t have the money for live-in help. The only chance she had to make their lives better had been to finish college. Even with the possibility of her new job, it was still going to be rough going.

So the trip here had taken a lot of her meager savings, and every minute Brooke stayed in Colorado meant she wasn’t working. The family living here didn’t have that problem. Laurel Quinn had no idea what it was like to be Coralee’s daughter.

Chapter Three

At 4:00 a.m. the next morning, Trent swung his legs over the side of the single cot. He’d gotten soft the past two years. In the army, he’d been able to sleep anywhere. Now, sleep eluded him.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he stood and walked to the window. He might as well get up.

The night was cool, but he welcomed the chill against his skin. A certain blonde had caused him more than an inconvenience since her arrival not even twenty-four hours ago.

Brooke Harper made a man take notice, and he noticed all right. Enough that he’d tossed and turned most of the night. She had him trying to recall how long it had been since he’d spent time with a woman, a woman to share a long night with.

He released a long breath, trying to ease the tension in his body. Not that he’d do anything about it with Brooke. She had a connection to Laurel, and there was a strong possibility that they were sisters. Besides, Brooke Harper was the kind who needed a steady guy, who gave her promises—a home and kids.

Sadness washed over him. He’d never be that guy. He was better off alone. Dreams of family had disappeared long ago.

He shook off the memories, and looked out the window. The sky was still dark, but the moon was still aglow and he could see the occupied cabin about fifty yards away. He could also see a light on.

Couldn’t Brooke sleep, either, or was she afraid? His protective instincts kicked in. They were in an isolated area and she didn’t know him from Adam.

He shook his head, thinking about the crazy events of the day: the groom running off, a canceled wedding, then a long-lost sister showing up. And Brooke Harper was determined to meet her sister. Why, after all these years, hadn’t Rory and Diane told Laurel the truth about her birth?

So many questions that needed answers. Something told him that the pretty Miss Harper knew more than she was saying. “You need to call me, Rory. I can’t do anything until you give me some answers. If not for me, then to Laurel.”

Trent walked to the lone chair in the room, grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. Since he was wide awake, he might as well get some work done. Back at his place he could feed the stock. Not that he didn’t have capable men to do chores; he just needed to burn off this energy. He put on his shirt and buttoned it, then pulled on boots. He grabbed his hat off the table and headed toward the door.

Once he finished his work, he’d come back in time to make breakfast for Brooke and maybe learn some more about their pretty visitor. And with any luck Rory would call him.

* * *

ALWAYS AN EARLY RISER, Brooke was up and dressed by 7:00 a.m. in a pair of jeans, a white blouse and a navy pullover sweater. After finding Trent’s note from under her door, telling her to come to the Quinns’ kitchen for breakfast, she realized she was anxious to see him again. Of course, it was only to find out if he’d heard from Rory. Maybe the family was coming home today. Maybe she’d be meeting them in a few hours.

Right now, she would do anything for a cup of coffee. She drove the short distance up the driveway to the house and parked her car. She got out, walked up and knocked on the back door. She hated imposing on Trent Landry again, but he was her only connection to the Quinns.

“Come in,” the familiar voice called.

Once inside, she immediately smelled bacon cooking and her stomach growled in anticipation.

Standing at the stove, Trent was dressed in faded jeans and a fitted Western shirt. Oh, boy. The man was handsome, maybe not in a traditional way, but definitely in a rugged-cowboy way. If you liked the cowboy type.

He tossed her a half smile. “Good morning.”

Her insides fluttered. “Morning.”

“Coffee’s on the counter.” He nodded toward the large coffeemaker.

She walked over. “Thank you.” Maybe the caffeine-laced drink would bring her to her senses.

“What’s your pleasure?” He pointed to the open carton of eggs. “Scrambled, sunny-side up or over easy?”

She filled the mug. “Don’t feel you need to feed me.”

“I’m eating, so you might as well. It could be a long day...waiting for that phone call. After seeing you in action yesterday, I might decide to put you to work.”

She cupped the mug in her hands and inhaled the wonderful aroma. “Okay, I’ll have scrambled, but only one.”

“Good choice. Will you put some bread in the toaster?”

“Of course.” She took a sip, then reached for the loaf of whole wheat on the counter and put in four slices. Then she picked up her mug again and took a sip. “Oh, this tastes so good,” she purred.

Trent looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “Good coffee is important.”

“I agree, and I probably drink far too much. Between work and school, I needed the extra boost.”

She leaned against the counter and watched the large man’s fluid movements as he worked at his tasks. Her gaze went to the worn denim that molded his delicious backside and muscular thighs. A shot of awareness hit her like the caffeine she was drinking. Her attention moved up to his clean-shaven face and strong jaw. His dark hair was trimmed short around the ears and slightly wavy on top.

He glanced at her. “So you’re one of those who hang out in those specialty coffee places.”

She shook her head. “I wish, but my budget can’t afford their prices. I make my own coffee at home, or at work.”

He gave her another odd look.

“What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, just hoping your new job pays enough for you to splurge on an occasional fancy mocha latte.”

She went on to explain. “The job isn’t a sure thing yet. I’m one of four people they’re looking at, but I interned for them last year, and I’m hoping that works in my favor.”

He poured the egg mixture into the sizzling skillet. “What’s the job?”

“The position is for second-shift front desk manager.”

The toast popped up. “Eventually, I want to get into sales and marketing. The Dream Chaser Hotel chain is a good place to get experience.”

Trent dished out the cooked eggs and brought them to the table, then filled two glasses of orange juice while Brooke buttered the toast and stacked the slices on a plate.

He waited until she took a seat then sat down across from her. Not used to eating with someone, let alone a man who showed such manners, she decided she liked it.

Nibbling on a piece of toast, Brooke sat back as Trent dug eagerly into his pile of eggs.

He motioned to her food. “My dad used to say you’ll never grow if you don’t eat.”

“Seems you took him up on that,” she said without thinking. “I...just meant you’re a large man.”

* * *

TRENT MANAGED TO choke down his food as Brooke’s wide-eyed gaze assessed him. Damn, if he didn’t feel the heat rising between them. He swallowed again. “You need muscle for ranching.”

Brooke’s gaze moved to his chest. “I can see how that would help.”

The warmth spread to his groin. “For a lot of years the army kept me on a strict workout regimen. Old habits die hard.”

“So you lift weights.”

“Mainly I lift hay bales and wrestle a few steers.”

“You really do all that work?”

Was Brooke that innocent, or was she playing a game? Either way, she was making it impossible to concentrate...on his meal. “You do if you want to run a successful operation.”