Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (8 page)

An automatic protest sprang to Hannah's lips, but it was as if Mrs. Harcourt had seen it coming and held up her hand to stop her. “I know you're going to say no, but I also know that by the time you get back to town you'll be tired and the twins will be cranky. You won't feel like cooking.”

Hannah never felt like cooking after working all day, but she wasn't about to let Brody's mother know that the twins' usual supper consisted of whatever she could convince them to eat. Usually grilled cheese sandwiches.

“I feel like I've imposed on you enough,” she said, unable to keep herself from looking over at Brody, who was watching her with a peculiar look in his eyes. But as soon as their eyes connected, he blinked and it seemed to disappear.

“You can keep trying to protest,” Brody said, bending over to swing Corey up in his arms, “but I know how stubborn and persuasive my mom can be. You may as well give in now and save yourself a lot of energy.”

Hannah bit her lip, as if thinking, but then Chrissy stretched away from Hannah, reaching for Brody's mom. Hannah would have overbalanced and fallen if Mrs. Harcourt hadn't taken the little girl out of her arms.

“I guess Chrissy settled it,” she said triumphantly. And before Hannah could lodge another objection, Mrs. Harcourt was walking back into the kitchen bobbing Chrissy in her arms.

“Like I said, don't argue with my mom,” Brody said, tucking his shirt back into his pants. “She doesn't always play fair.”

“She sure doesn't,” Hannah said as she caught a whiff of the casserole Brody's father was taking out of the oven. Her stomach growled so loudly she was sure Brody heard. “Not with smells like that coming from the kitchen.”

“You may as well stay,” Brody said, his voice growing quiet. “Mom loves to help out and she would be pleased if you stayed for supper.”

Hannah chanced a look at Brody, who was watching her, a half grin on his face. And for a moment she wondered if he was pleased about the idea, as well.

* * *

“Thanks for dinner, Mom,” Brody said, wiping his mouth and setting his napkin on his plate. “Amazing as usual.”

“Glad you could join us instead of eating cold cereal in your cabin,” his mother said.

“I cook. What do you think all those pots and pans I have in my cabin are for?” Brody protested, feeling a need to defend himself and not sound so much like a bachelor.

“Just because a chicken has wings doesn't mean it can fly,” his dad put in with a wry grin.

“His idea of cooking is scrambling eggs,” his mother said to Hannah, as if she needed to be brought up to speed on Brody's cooking habits. “And haute cuisine is using seasoning salt instead of regular salt.”

“The twins and I eat a lot of scrambled eggs, as well,” Hannah said, looking over at Brody with a shy smile. “It's easy to make after a long day of work. That, and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

He returned her smile, feeling a moment of culinary kinship.

She held his gaze a split second longer than necessary, then turned her attention back to her daughter. The little girl opened her mouth for the spoonful of food Hannah had scooped up, then, at the last moment, spun her head away, smearing the food all over her cheeks.

“That's no way to treat such a delicious supper.” Hannah put her arm around Chrissy to hold her still and quickly swiped a napkin across her daughter's dirty cheeks before she could turn again.

“You're really good at that,” Brody said, full of admiration.

“I have my specialties, too,” she said with a smile. And there it was again. That jolt he always felt around her.

When his mother had offered to take care of Hannah's children, he knew he would have a hard time keeping his reaction to her in perspective. He had hoped that he could be practical about it, but seeing her in his parents' home with her children felt as if parts of a puzzle had finally come together.

It felt too right, which made him even more cautious around her. Hannah had a better man in her past and Brody wasn't keen on trying to play second fiddle.

Corey, sitting between Brody and his mother, started fussing, banging his spoon on the table. He turned to Brody and held out the noodle-encrusted spoon as if giving him a treasure, babbling his encouragement.

“Why, thanks, little guy,” Brody said, carefully taking it from him and setting it on his plate. Corey then handed him the plate with food still sticking to it. Brody took that, as well. “Anything else?”

Corey looked directly at him, shook his head and clearly said, “No. Sanks.”

Brody laughed out loud and ruffled the boy's curly hair with his hand. “You're a little charmer, aren't you?”

Corey held up his arms and Brody lifted him off the pillows his mother had piled onto the chair for the little boy. He was about to put him on the floor when Corey reached out and grabbed Brody by the neck.

It felt as natural as could be for Brody to put his arms around him and hold him close, and when Corey tucked his head into Brody's neck, Brody felt his heart give a little stutter.

He caught Hannah watching them, her expression tinged with sorrow. Guilt suffused him. He felt as if he had usurped David's place in Corey's life. He thought he should apologize, but then Corey pushed himself upright and squirmed away from Brody.

Chrissy shoved at her plate and also tried to get out of her chair, yelling at him as if telling him to wait for her to join him.

“I'm sorry,” Hannah apologized as she tried to restrain her daughter. “Once they're done eating—”

“Don't you worry about it,” Winston said, smiling at Hannah. “We always had the same problem with Brody. He could never sit still once his belly was full inside and out. Man, that kid could smear food. Made such a mess we had to put down newspapers under his chair to catch all the food. Part of the reason we got Chance. Our dog.”

“Outgrew that particular trait about twenty-eight years ago, Dad,” Brody cut in. “And many others, I might add.” He sent his father a warning glance. The last thing he needed was embarrassing blasts from his past paraded in front of Hannah.

“Thank goodness we all grow up,” his mother said.

Hannah stood, picked up Chrissy with one arm, dropped her on one hip and started stacking the plates with quick efficient moves.

“You stop right there,” his mom said, whisking away the plates Hannah had already stacked up. “Winston and I will do the dishes. Brody, you can help Hannah wash up the twins.”

Brody shot his mother a look, but she was busy clearing the table and didn't catch it. Didn't or wouldn't. He wasn't sure which.

“I don't need any help,” Hannah protested.

“I don't mind,” Brody said. He could see Hannah was about to object again, but he preempted her by simply catching Corey by the pants, pulling him back and scooping him up into his arms. “Bathroom is down the hall, first door to the right.”

“Isn't it always?”

Brody released a laugh as he led the way. Her sense of humor surprised him every time it popped out.

He pulled open the linen closet in the bathroom and set out a couple of hand towels and facecloths on the countertop.

But Hannah wasn't paying attention. Instead, she was turning around, her eyes wide with amazement. “This room is close to the size of my apartment.”

“I think it's a reaction to the tiny house my parents lived in on the ranch in Texas,” Brody said, setting Corey down on the counter beside one of the sinks. “When we bought this place and moved into the small log cabin, my dad promised my mother that he would build her the house he always felt she deserved. He took the Texas mentality and transferred it to our Montana ranch.”

“You lived in Texas? I wouldn't have guessed.”

Brody shrugged as he turned on the tap. “My mother came from Canada originally, and she wouldn't let a single y'all come out of our mouths.”

Hannah's laughter made him feel slightly humorous.

“Does she let you say ‘eh'?”

“Now you're just stereotyping,” he said. “But Dad and Mom, they're two different buckets of possums.”

“I'm guessing that's a Texas saying.”

“You want Texas talk, get my dad going. He's a live dictionary. Can speak ten words a second with gusts up to fifty.”

Hannah's laughter burst out of her, and it made Brody smile just to hear it. Even Chrissy, who had been fussing up to then, started giggling.

“Your parents are very nice,” she said as she wet a facecloth and wiped Chrissy's mouth. “It means a lot that they helped me out.”

“My mom was pretty stoked to be able to take care of your kids,” Brody said, wetting a facecloth himself. “I'm glad you let her.”

“I didn't have a lot of choice, and, not going to lie, I was a bit apprehensive. But this worked out well.” She looked over at him and once again it was as if he couldn't look away. “By the way, I got a call from Lilibeth Shoemaker. She said she's able to meet with us tomorrow at the café in the afternoon. Does that work for you?”

“Lunch should work.” It would make things tight for him. He and his father were talking about moving cows over the next few days, but if it meant having lunch with Hannah again, he figured they could put it off a week or more.

“That's good. I'd like to report back to Mayor Shaw as soon as possible.” Her brown eyes held his a moment longer than necessary.

She was just being friendly, he reminded himself, but even as the practical corner of his brain told him that, the other didn't want to deny the reality that each time they were together, something undefinable was happening between them. But did he dare let it go anywhere?

Chapter Six

B
rody stepped into the café, blinking as his eyes transitioned from the bright sun outside to the inside of Great Gulch Grub.

“If you're looking for Hannah, she's in the back,” Mert said with a smirk as she dropped a stack of menus in the holder at the end of the checkout counter. “Your usual spot.”

“Thanks, Mert,” he said, giving her a warning look.

She gave him a sly wink. “Don't need to look all scowly. Your secret is safe with me.”

“What secret?” Brody asked, choosing to play dumb.

“Oh, c'mon. You've liked that girl for years. I've been watching you, and I think she's ready to have someone in her life.”

Brody wanted to brush off her comment, but the part of him that had always been attracted to Hannah clung to Mert's assurance.

“You're a good man, Brody Harcourt,” Mert said, looking serious. “I think she could do worse.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Mert just laughed and Brody made his way to the back of the café, returning the greetings he got from some of the patrons, suddenly wondering if more people knew what Mert did. Wondering, as he approached Hannah, if she did.

“Hey, there,” he said as he slipped into the booth across from her, dropping his hat on the seat beside him.

Hannah looked up, and her broad smile ignited a glimmer of expectation.

“So, we'll try this again,” she said.

Brody didn't mind if Lilibeth didn't show up again. It would mean spending more time with Hannah one-on-one.

Mert came by and filled their cups with coffee and asked if they needed anything. Brody shook his head, and Mert left.

He was about to say something to Hannah, when he saw Lilibeth flounce into the café wearing tight blue jeans with a loose denim shirt that revealed a pink T-shirt underneath, clinging to her curves. And when she saw Brody and Hannah, her lips parted in a generous smile. Brody sighed as she sauntered toward them. She was the reason he and Hannah were meeting here, but he had hoped to have a few more moments alone with Hannah.

“Hey, there,” Lilibeth said, standing by the booth, twirling a strand of blond hair around a long-nailed finger. “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

Brody stood and gave her a polite smile as she slipped into the booth. Then he grabbed a chair from a nearby table and set it at the open end of the booth. As he dropped into it, he caught Lilibeth's disappointed pout and he congratulated himself on escaping an awkward situation.

“Are those about the contest?” Lilibeth asked, pointing a taloned finger at the papers Hannah held. She waved Mert off when she came around with the coffeepot again.

“They are. And we found out why Alanna won,” Hannah said quietly, glancing from Lilibeth to the papers after Mert left. “She had a strong horsemanship mark.”

Lilibeth tapped her finger on the table and sighed. “That's rotten. I thought I did pretty good with Rowdy.”

“At any other time you might have won,” Hannah assured her, her voice soft and well modulated. “But Alanna was especially adept at handling her horse, and the fact that she did so much groundwork—”

“Those were just tricks,” Lilibeth protested. “Making her horse bow and dance along with her.”

“But they made the judges take notice,” Hannah said. “I'm sorry you didn't win, though. You do seem upset about it.”

“I am. I tried so hard. I just wanted...wanted to be like my sisters. They always won. I just wanted them to pay attention to me for a change.”

Her comment was the perfect opportunity for Brody to jump in, and without thinking he placed his hand on Hannah's to stop her from saying anything. “Is it just your sisters' attention you want? Or was it also the community's?”

“Of course I wanted the people in Jasper Gulch to notice me. It's always been about my sisters, and this time I wanted it to be about me.”

“So, if you want attention, would you do other things besides entering the Miss Jasper Gulch contest to get it?” he pressed.

“What do you mean?”

Brody sent up a quick prayer. This was where things could get awkward. He wished he didn't have to do this, but he and Hannah had been asked to look into the theft. And if Lilibeth was, in fact, the L.S. of the mysterious note Cord had received, they had to follow through.

“Do you know anything about the time capsule theft?” Brody asked, deciding to simply go for broke.

Lilibeth dropped back in the booth, her arms crossed tightly, her features shifting. “Why would I?”

Her evasive answer raised suspicion. “But do you?” Brody continued, not allowing himself to be moved into a defensive position.

Lilibeth's features grew tight. “Do you think I stole the time capsule?”

“We don't know who stole it. The committee looking into this theft received a note that said if we wanted to know more about the theft we should be looking at someone with the initials L.S. Which, unfortunately, are the same as yours.” Brody stopped there, hoping Lilibeth would jump to the conclusion herself without his having to make an accusation.

“Is that what you're thinking? That I stole that time capsule? Why would I? I was as excited as everyone else to see what was in it.” Then, to Brody's surprise, he saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes. “I know I'm not the smartest or the prettiest or the best...horse person. But I'm not a thief. I love my town and I love the people in it.” Her voice broke and Brody felt like the lowest heel. He patted her awkwardly on the hand while Hannah handed her a tissue. Lilibeth wiped her eyes, blew her nose and looked from Hannah to Brody. “Do other people believe I did that? That I would do something like that?”

Brody bit his lip, wishing, once again, he didn't have to do this. “It was because of the anonymous note that we felt we needed to talk to you. That's all.”

“Anonymous. Of course it was. It was probably that lousy Pete Daniels who wrote it. Little weasel. He tried to ask me out once but I turned him down. And I heard him whining the other day about how people don't appreciate how hard he's had it.” Lilibeth's eyes grew hard. “He's probably just trying to pin this on me to get even.”

Brody felt a flash of sympathy for her. “We will talk to him about this for sure, but we were just following the lead of the note. I'm so sorry we thought you might be a suspect. But we want to get the bottom of what happened to the capsule. Especially with all the other centennial celebrations going on.”

“Like the basket auction,” Lilibeth said, looking at Hannah.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“That does it. I'm entering that auction,” she said, slapping her palm on the table. “So now, I gotta go. I got work to do.” She slid out of the booth and without another glance at either Brody or Hannah, she strode out of the café, a girl on a mission.

As the door closed behind her, Brody blew out a sigh and shoved his hand through his hair. “That was tough,” he said. “I still feel bad that we had to do it.” He put the chair back by the table and as he sat down, Mert came by with refills for their coffee.

Hannah put her hand over her cup. “No, thanks, Mert. I should get back to work.”

Brody tamped down his disappointment. He had hoped to share another cup of coffee with her. Some coffee and some more time.

But he stood and pulled out his wallet, dropping a few bills on the table the same time as Hannah drew her own wallet out of her purse.

“This is on me,” he said.

“Thank you.” She put her wallet back.

He dropped his hat on his head and stood aside as she slipped the folder inside her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Then he followed her out of the café. A breeze had sprung up, sending errant papers scurrying down the street and stealing the warmth of the afternoon sun.

Outside, she stopped and turned to him.

“I just want to say that you managed the meeting with Lilibeth very diplomatically,” Hannah said, giving him a gentle smile.

“Diplomacy isn't usually my strong point,” he said with a half grin. “I've been accused many times of being too quick to speak my mind.”

“I wouldn't say that. You were remarkably restrained when Mayor Shaw made that comment to you.” She was looking down at the papers as she spoke, running her fingernail along the edges. “I...I'm sorry he felt like he needed to warn you that way. I didn't think it was necessary.”

Brody wanted to shrug off her comment, but something in the way she said it raised a question about why she felt the need to assure him. “I haven't heard the nickname Book-it Brody for a while.”

“Was it deserved?”

“At one time, yes.” His smile faded as he held her eyes. For a moment he felt a sense of affinity with Lilibeth. He wanted Hannah to know the truth about him, not what people were saying. “But I don't think people can accuse me of tearing wildly around the countryside anymore. I've settled down since then. I'm not the risk-taker I used to be.”

Hannah gave him an enigmatic look. “But your job—”

“It's not as risky as people think. Sure, there are times when hard decisions need to be made, but I have backup. I have my team and my training. And it's a job that needs to be done.” A job that he was proud of doing. When the opportunity came up for him to become a firefighter, he'd jumped at it. He wanted to serve the community. To show that he was someone who could be depended on.

“A man of honor,” she said quietly, her words creating a curious feeling of pride that he hadn't felt in a while.

“Thanks for that,” he said.

She waited a moment, as if she wanted to say something more, then gave him a quick smile, clutched her purse close to her and stepped out into the street.

Just as a truck sped around the corner, tires squealing.

Brody didn't think, he simply acted. He hooked his arm around Hannah and pulled her back just as the truck blew past them, tires squealing. Brody caught a quick glimpse of the driver who hadn't even turned to see what he had done.

Pete Daniels.

He would have a word with that weasel, as Lilibeth called him. But first he had to see to Hannah, who sagged against him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, turning her to face him.

Her one hand clung to his waist, the other his shoulder. Her face was pale, her eyes bright.

“Yeah. I'm okay. A little shook up.” She shifted, as if trying to get her balance, but Brody didn't let go of her and she didn't look as if she wanted to leave.

A breeze picked up a strand of hair, dropping it across her face. It clung to her lips and Brody gave in to an impulse and brushed it away, his hand lingering, then coming to rest on her shoulder.

They stood this way a moment, standing close, eyes locked.

He wanted to kiss her.

His heart skipped a beat as his breath slowed. Then she stepped back from him and the moment was blown away with the wind swirling down the street. A passing truck honked at them and Brody waved absently, not even bothering to see whether it was for him or Hannah.

Then he wondered if anyone had seen them and what people would think. Book-it Brody and David's widow.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, hitching her purse up on her shoulder. Then, without another word, she glanced up and down the street and hurried across.

Brody puffed up his cheeks and blew out a breath, feeling a bit shook up at his reaction to holding Hannah.

And how right it felt.

* * *

“If there's anything else you need, let me know.” Hannah came around her desk and handed a folder of papers she had just photocopied to Robin Frazier, who was waiting in the foyer of the town hall. “Sorry it took so long to get them together for you. Olivia picked up some of the minutes of old town meetings. I know you two have been working together, she might have something if you can't find it in here.”

“Please. Don't worry about it,” Robin said, waving off her apology. “I know you're busy with the fair and the basket auction. Someday I want to know more about the history of that.”

Hannah couldn't help her quick glance at the large clock hanging on the wall behind Robin, one of the few artifacts remaining from the building's history as a bank. The minute hand was ticking onto five o'clock. The ranch was a twenty-five-minute drive. She was already later than usual.

“But not today,” Robin hastily amended, tucking the folder into a large leather messenger bag that she slung over her neck, then slipping her blond hair free from the strap. “I know you want to leave to pick up your children.”

“Yes. My mother usually takes care of the twins, but she's been ill.”

“I heard about your mother. How is she?”

“I talked to my father this afternoon. She's been running a fever, but the doctor said they just had to wait for the antibiotics to kick in.” Hannah had to fight down a surge of worry. Her parents were such a support to her, it was hard to see her mother sick. “Gina Harcourt is babysitting for me and I don't want to take advantage of her generosity.” She knew this was only part of the reason for her rush. Deep down, she knew it had as much to do with Brody and that moment they had shared this afternoon on the street outside the café.

The entire afternoon her thoughts had slipped back to that moment and how it had felt to be held by him. Protected.

Sure, she was an independent woman. She had to be, raising two kids on her own, but there were times when the loneliness bit at her. Times when she wished she had someone who had her back.

“You're so lucky to have family around to help you out.”

The wistful note in Robin's voice made Hannah want to ask her more, but then the door to the foyer opened again and Hannah fought a sigh. Abigail Rose came marching toward her desk, her hand clutching a paper and her eyes focused like a laser on Hannah, her permed hair bobbing with each step. She looked like a woman on a mission and Hannah prayed that mission wasn't her or her twins, though she couldn't think why. The twins were out of the apartment all day. Last night, after coming back from the ranch, they went to sleep without a peep. Surely they couldn't have bothered her.