How to Knit a Love Song (22 page)

He couldn’t see the alarm clock from where he was lying, but he could tell by the way the light was only starting to shift from black to gray that it was still early. Chores. Then to town for a muffin. If he moved fast, he could be back in bed with her in two hours, before she even woke.

He hated to move, though. She was spooned in front of him, her back to him, her body curved into his. She fit him like he couldn’t remember anyone else ever fitting him. It was like that kid’s story with the bears—what was it? Goldilocks. Not too tall, not too short, not too big, not too small: Abigail was just right.

But the chores wouldn’t get done with him lying here just thinking about how she felt. He lifted his arm from where it was draped over her and scooted backward. She murmured in her sleep. Cade leaned forward to listen.

“Rabbits. And helium, with a hat.” Abigail’s voice was quiet, but the words were distinct. “Carded batts of raisins.” She giggled and then was suddenly quiet, her breathing deep and steady.

He slid from the sheets into the cold morning air, shrugged on his workclothes and hit the door running, hoping Tom had made coffee. If he hadn’t, he would go without. It was all about speed right now.

It was a gorgeous cold morning, the first real frost still lying on the longer blades of grass. He could see his breath. This was the kind of morning that he lived for. The countryside was quiet, no cars going by on the side road, the sun rising slowly and the air cold. Everything appeared in distinct relief against the palest blue sky.

He worked hard and fast.

An hour later, there was just one last thing to do. He carried pails of water out to Abigail’s shed. They had to get her a water hookup soon; those animals drank a ton.

He would finish this, then get the muffins and go back up to the house. He would make good, strong coffee, and pour it into yellow mugs, and bring her a cup. She’d still be tangled in his sheets, eyes closed, soft and warm, everything he wanted to see, to touch in the morning.

He’d wake her slowly, maybe sit next to her and watch to see if the coffee smell would wake her on its own. If it didn’t, he’d touch her, lightly. He would stroke that soft part of her cheek, maybe breathe a whisper of a kiss on the top of her hair. He’d run his hand down her side, over the sheet, barely brushing her.

Damn, he was hard again, just thinking about being near her. He couldn’t finish watering the alpacas fast enough. What if she woke up? What if she thought better of last night?

The pails sloshed as he jogged to the alpaca troughs. He dumped the water in, and checked on their feed.

Half an hour, if he sped the whole way to town and back. In half an hour, he could be in his room with her, muffins in hand.

The stillness of the morning air was broken by the chugging of a truck, rolling down the dirt road.

Cade sighed. He didn’t want to have an early-morning talk with anyone, but he could tell it was Hooper’s orange Ford from where he stood. He was caught, a sitting duck out in the open. He didn’t have a chance. Hooper was practically a woman, one of the gabbiest men he knew. He was one of the regular breakfast crew at Tillie’s Diner. And Cade’d been spotted. Hooper slowed his truck and rolled down the passenger window.

“Morning, Cade.”

“Hi, Hoop. Hey, I’m in a hurry, can I catch up with you later?” Cade took a step toward the house, but Hooper held up his hand.

“Just a sec. We miss you at Tillie’s. Ain’t seen you that often lately.” Hooper grinned at him. “So, that alpaca lady, huh? Word is she broke her leg chasing after you? Up on a hill or something?”

“Jungle drums beating too loud, that’s all. Not even a broken leg. Just a sprained foot.”

“So she still staying with you?”

“As far as I know, Hooper.”

“She’s not up yet, then?”

“Wouldn’t know. And I’m not falling for it, Hooper. You have anything else for me this morning, or can I finish my chores?”

Hooper’s face became serious. “I have to say something to you, and you might not like it, Cade.”

Cade respected this man. He looked up to him as a mentor: a rancher who had done nothing in his whole life but make his land work. He stood still and nodded.

“You worked hard here, taking the ranch over from Eliza like you did. Just about ready to be sold at auction and you brought it back to something serious. Your sheep are good and strong, and people talk about the way you run this place, like a spread ought to be managed. You only have one guy working for you. You’re out there, doing it, making it work. That’s what me and the other guys want to see in young guys like you.”

Cade looked at his boots. The most he got from the breakfast crew was a punch in the shoulder every once in a while and an admission that his sheep weren’t the worst they’d ever seen.

“Thanks, Hoop.”

“But.”

Uh-oh.

“But we been talking, and we think this yarn thing you’re doing is bull-crap.”

“Me?
I’m
not doing anything with yarn.”

“And you got those stupid alpacas living here. You’re on the verge of turning this place into a school field trip. I mean, yarn is good, and my wife makes sweaters for me that I like fine. But she’s out-of-her-mind excited about this place. Talk is that it’s gonna serve coffee and have retreats or something where the ladies come and stay out here for a weekend to learn about sheep ranching.”

“Retreats?”

“You were doing something good out here, something serious. Continuing a tradition. We were proud of you. This new venture you got going, this yarn thing, well, I’m sorry. That ain’t us. We’ve worked hard to get a name for ourselves out here in this part of the valley, and we don’t want you to ruin it. We don’t want the valley turning into a strip mall. Even if no one else will tell you what they think, I will. I think you’re going soft, and you’re going to hurt all of us. Think about it.”

Hooper tapped his baseball cap, leaned over and rolled up the window, and drove up the road.

Cade felt a burn start on the back of his neck.

This yarn thing
. People thought he, Cade, was starting this. They had to know it was her doing, didn’t they? Right?

But it was still on his land. Or at least surrounded by it. That was the problem.

Cade shook his head, trying to clear it. This was
not
how he’d felt when he woke that morning with Abigail in his arms.

He thought he had been past this. He thought he’d been starting to accept what Eliza had put in front of him as unavoidable. He stood in place and scuffed his boot in the dirt, as he looked up at the window where she slept.

Those old men would see. Her business would be separate from his. He’d have a successful ranch and she’d run a successful business. The property, all of it, would prosper.

It couldn’t change the reputation of the valley. It wouldn’t.

He turned his head and looked at the cottage.

When would the big sign go up? Would it be flashy, with neon knitting needles? Or adorable, with a cutesy ball of yarn and a fat kitten batting it?

He imagined the rows of parked cars and women squealing over the adorable alpacas.

Damn
Hooper.

There would be no muffins. Really, they weren’t that good anyway. They were usually dry.

Cade felt a pinprick of guilt. No, that was stupid. Abigail didn’t even know he’d been thinking about getting muffins. She wouldn’t miss what she didn’t know about.

He would
not
go into Tillie’s today. Maybe he wouldn’t even go this week.

Cade made the coffee. At least she had good taste and liked it strong.

Men were worse gossips than women.

Upstairs, she was naked in his bed. Sweet, warm, generous, sexy-as-hell Abigail. He had to get these thoughts out of his mind, just for a few hours. As the coffee dripped into the carafe, he shook his head.

She was just Abigail. Eliza had loved her. Abigail wasn’t out to get him. What had Hooper said? Strip mall. She wasn’t turning the valley into a strip mall. Her business would be more like a roadside food stand. Something to showcase the valley.

Sure.

He poured the coffee into his yellow mugs.

What if they had to put up a stop sign? Or God forbid, a stoplight?

He walked up the stairs.

It was a yarn shop.

Just a yarn shop.

When Cade entered the room, he had trouble thinking a complete thought and stopped worrying about her store entirely.

Abigail lay on her side, one hand under her cheek, the other arm lying the length of her naked body. The blanket and sheet had slipped off. She must be cold. Cade put the coffees on the nightstand and moved to pull the blanket up. Crying shame. No one should cover this, but it was a chilly morning, and she had goose bumps.

So did he, come to think of it. But his weren’t from the cold.

As he pulled up the blanket, she murmured something he couldn’t understand. He put his hand on her cheek and kissed the top of her head lightly. Her eyelids flickered, then half opened.

“Cade,” she said softly. She smiled.

He smiled back. Her eyes were so damn soft. Trusting.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said. “I brought coffee.”

“You’re awesome. Coffee…” She yawned and stretched, and then she gasped. “Yow!”

“Your foot?”

She nodded. “I forgot.”

“You had a big day yesterday.”

“A huge day,” she agreed. She scooted up, carefully, propping two pillows behind her, pulling up the sheet so that it covered her breasts. Cade handed her a mug and imagined pulling the sheet down again.

Instead, he said, “You tracked an alpaca, fell out of a tree, went to the hospital, and got clawed by my cat. How is your stomach?”

“And I stayed up late, too.”

He nodded. “You must be exhausted.”

She yawned again. “I think I am. How long have you been up?”

“Not that long.”

“I heard voices outside.”

“Hooper. From Tillie’s, you met him.” Cade looked away from her eyes and out the window.

“Mmmm. This is great coffee. Thank you. Now all I need is a blueberry muffin.”

“Are you kidding?” How had she known?

“Of course I am. This is perfect.”

Cade felt an awkward weight drop onto him as if someone had draped a heavy blanket over his shoulders.

“So,” he said.

“So,” she smiled.

“Um.”

Abigail seemed to take pity on him. “So what are you doing today?”

Relief. “I have to move some more irrigation pipes and work on some others before I can move them. What are you doing?”

“Working on the cottage.”

The awkwardness fell again. The cottage. The damn store. Which he didn’t want to think about, not right now. He watched her instead. She drank her coffee and stared out the window. She pushed her hair back, out of her eyes. The early sunlight hit the curve of her cheek.

He’d never seen eyes that actually sparkled, but hers did. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but it was a pretty good trick.

“It’s going to be fine, you know,” she said.

“Your foot?”

“That, too. But the cottage. The store. I’ll totally stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m there.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m still skeptical. But I have to admit, the idea is easier to take when you’re talking to me dressed like that.”

Pink flooded her cheeks. Abigail looked down at herself and then back up at him.

“I don’t usually…”

“Usually what? Seduce your men with the blood drawn by their cats?”

“Definitely a first.”

He sat on the bed next to her, careful to move slowly. “First time for everything, I guess.”

“And this doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Cade’s heart gave a sudden, unexpected lurch. No, of course it didn’t have to mean anything. “No, you’re right. It doesn’t.”

Abigail blinked. “I mean, we’re adults. Just consenting adults.”

“Who are able to have mind-blowing sex.”

She blinked harder. “Yes. Apparently that.”

“I like that part of being an adult.”

“I hear you do.”

“What do you mean?”

What had she heard? Was it all from that Janet person? What had Eliza said to her?

“I’m only teasing. I know you have a way with the ladies, and I can personally attest to that. Nothing wrong with it.”

Her voice was light, and her eyes were clear as they met his. “I’m teasing you, Cade.”

“Eliza hated that about me.”

Abigail gave a small nod. “She might have mentioned that she wanted you to settle down.”

“Mentioned?”

“All right, it was one of her favorite topics of conversation.”

“I
knew
it! I knew she was still stuck on that. Did she tell you about the fight?”

“Not really. I know you had a falling out, what, eight years ago or so? After a trip she made here? But she wouldn’t tell me much about it, just that she’d pushed you too hard.”

“She actually said that?”

“She felt responsible for the fight, I know that. What was it really about?”

Cade sighed. “She said she wanted me to marry someone. Anyone. That she wouldn’t let me buy the land from her, even though I had secured the backing for the loan by then, until I found the one. That’s what she said. The one.”

“Like her Joshua.”

“Like Uncle Joshua. Only a girl, I’d suspect.”

Abigail sipped her coffee and kept watching him with those amazing eyes. He was glad she was distracting him with this topic; otherwise he’d be hard-pressed not to launch right back into bed with her for a repeat of last night. He still might.

“The fight really came down to her calling me a slut.”

Abigail choked on her coffee, then coughed for a minute. “No way. She did not.”

“Okay, maybe it was ‘man-whore.’”

“Now, no matter what, I’m not going to believe a word you say.”

“Catting around? Will you buy ‘catting around’? That’s what she actually said.”

“I totally buy ‘catting.’ That’s an Eliza word.”

“She had this stupid idea that it was all about my mom or something. That since she never stuck around, I couldn’t trust women, and I had to learn how. She said I had to quit doing it. Catting.”