Matt (7 page)

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Authors: R. C. Ryan

BOOK: Matt
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Vanessa pushed back her chair.

Before they could walk away, Matt was beside them. “You go ahead, Gram Gracie. I'll show Vanessa to her room.”

His grandmother shot him a grateful smile before heading up the stairs.

Matt retrieved Vanessa's briefcase and computer from the mudroom before leading the way up the stairs and along a hallway, where he opened a door and stood back, allowing her to precede him.

She looked around with interest.

The room was filled with light from a pair of floor-to-ceiling windows. Along with a king-sized bed, there was a wall of shelves holding an assortment of leather-bound books. A flat-screen TV was positioned atop a desk. A pair of chairs and a round table stood in a little alcove, inviting reading or just a comfortable place to enjoy the breathtaking scenery.

Matt opened a door leading to a spa-sized bathroom, with a glass-enclosed shower, jet tub, and marble counter with double sinks.

Vanessa managed a smile. “Am I sharing this with your entire family?”

“Afraid not. This is just for you.”

She shook her head in wonder. “I wasn't expecting all this luxury.”

“You mean way out here in the wilderness?” He affected a perfect drawl. “Well, you see, ma'am, the family's outhouse is out of commission this week, so you'll have to make do with this old thing.”

She laughed and looked at him. “Thanks. I needed that.”

His voice lowered. “I know you've just been handed a lot to deal with. But I hope you realize you're not alone. Just let us know what you need, and we'll see to it. My family and I are here for you.”

She took in a breath. “I feel so guilty about bringing this to your doorstep.”

“You didn't do anything to feel guilty about. This wasn't your choice. But now that we're aware of the threat, we can take precautions.”

When she didn't say anything, he moved close enough to touch a hand to her cheek. Just a touch, but they both stepped back as though burned.

He was the first to look away.

As he headed toward the door he called over his shoulder, “Make yourself at home. And when you're ready, you'll find us either downstairs or out in one of the barns.”

She looked down at her wrinkled suit. “I'm not dressed for a barn tour.”

He turned back. “Yeah. What was I thinking? Meet me downstairs when you're ready to drive to town for some suitable clothes.”

“Is it safe for me to show my face in town?”

He thought a moment. “I'll run it by the family. I'm sure we can come up with a plausible reason for you to be here.”

M
att held the truck's door. “Climb in, Cousin Van.”

“Cousin Van?” Vanessa couldn't help laughing. “Who came up with the name?”

“My great-grandfather.” Matt rounded the cab and climbed into the driver's side, fastening his seatbelt before starting along the curving ribbon of driveway that led to the interstate. “He was always good at revising scripts. As of now, you're Burke's niece, Van Cowley, on your first-ever visit to our ranch. I think Burke is enjoying this as much as the rest of us, since he's never had a relative before. Real or fictional.” He held up a hand. “No. Don't bother thanking me. You can thank the Great One for this.”

“The Great One?”

“That's what we call our great-grandfather. He loves it, since he considers himself one of the greatest directors of all time. And, in fact, he was.”

“Director of what?”

“Movies. He was a pretty famous Hollywood director back in the fifties. Nelson LaRou.”

“Nelson LaRou.” She looked over, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh. I've heard of him. But I never dreamed I was talking to a famous Hollywood director. Did he know all the movie stars?”

Matt nodded. “Not only knew them, but directed most of them in their biggest movies. He was a pretty big deal.”

“So your grandmother grew up in Hollywood?”

“And in Connecticut, where they kept a second home. As you can imagine, old Nelson wasn't too happy about his daughter marrying a rancher and moving to Montana.”

“But he's living here now. He must have had a change of heart.”

“What he had was a change of health. And he realized that if he wanted to see his only child and his grandchildren, he'd have to swallow his pride and move to the middle of nowhere.”

“Has he adjusted?”

“I'd say so. Or we've adjusted to him and his demands. Yancy has learned to make a mean martini, just the way old Nelson likes it. And every once in a while Yancy surprises us with some exotic dish that Nelson once had at the Hollywood Grill, one of his favorite places.”

“You have such a fascinating family. A famous director. A revered grandmother who photographs herds of wild mustangs in the wilderness. And your grandfather, Frank, who's absolutely bedazzled by her every time he looks at her.”

That had Matt smiling. “Yeah. You can see the love and devotion whenever they're together. I can't picture one without the other.”

“How about your hunky, rugged uncle Colin? Is he married?” When Matt shook his head, she asked, “Engaged?”

“Not a chance. There isn't even a serious romance going on. He's too busy riding herd on us, and on the ranch.”

“One of these days the right woman will come along, and he'll find himself in over his head.”

Matt shot her a sideways glance. “Are you speaking from experience?”

She flushed. “I only know what I've seen with my friends. Even the most dedicated singles among them cave when the love bug bites.”

“Looks like they need better bug spray.” They both laughed as they rolled along the highway.

Vanessa found herself fascinated by the view of rolling green hills in the distance, black with cattle. “When do we leave your land?”

“Not for another couple of miles.”

“Miles?” She turned to Matt. “Do you sometimes have to pinch yourself when you see all this land and realize it belongs to your family?”

Matt smiled, trying to see it through a stranger's eyes. “I guess it looks impressive, but it's what I grew up with. Are you ever in awe when you look around your city?”

She laughed. “I don't own it. Besides, it's not exactly as awe inspiring as this.”

“It would be to a kid who never saw a big city like Chicago before.”

That had her nodding. “I guess you're right. Maybe we all take what we have for granted.”

“Well, drink in your fill of Glacier Ridge, Montana, since it's the only view of a city you'll have for a few weeks.”

Seeing the way she gripped her hands together in her lap, Matt felt a tug of annoyance at himself. She'd had barely a minute to herself to process all that had happened. “Sorry. Do you feel like talking?”

She fell silent and gathered her thoughts before saying, “I guess I'm still reeling. Part of me feels terrible that I can't be home to comfort my father. I can't even imagine what he's going through. I know he wants this conviction more than he's wanted anything in his career. But any threat against me has to be a huge distraction. I don't know how he'll be able to continue to focus through the rest of the trial.”

“Exactly what the bad guys are hoping. If the DA drops the ball, they win.” He cleared his throat. “Your dad's a pro. He'll figure out a way to use his anger and frustration against his opponent.”

She turned her head to stare out the side window. Her voice sounded weary. “I hope you're right.”

“What about you? How are you going to deal with the threat to your safety?”

“When I saw my mom growing sicker and weaker, I went into a real panic. What would we do? How could we live without her? And my dad told me something I'll never forget.” She took a breath. “He said we all have times when we're so scared, we want to run and hide. And that's the time when we have to stand our ground and face down our fears.” She took a deep breath. “I've already been through the worst. After losing my mother, I guess I can face anything life throws at me.”

In a gesture of comfort he reached a hand to hers.

Her head came up sharply, and he abruptly returned his hand to the wheel.

  

For the next hour, as they drove toward town, Matt kept up a running commentary on the various points of interest.

Vanessa clutched her hands together and wondered about her reaction to this man. Her hands were still overly warm, and all he'd done was touch them.

A short time later, he tapped her shoulder and pointed to a lone cowboy on a hill. “There's my Montana.”

She struggled to ignore a quick little thrill. She'd felt this same awareness when he'd been setting dishes in the cupboard over her head the previous night. She'd absorbed the same pinpricks of pleasure.

“And this is the famous town of Glacier Ridge.”

She forced her attention to the place that she'd barely noticed on her arrival. It had been merely a tiny town on her way to an important interview.

“On this side of Main Street is D and B's Diner. It's owned and operated by Dot and Barb Parker, twin sisters who've been fixtures in this town for more than fifty years.”

Vanessa studied the tidy little white building with a door and shutters painted with black-and-white polka dots. “Is that in honor of their namesake?”

Matt nodded. “You got it. Old Dot loves polka dots. That's all she wears, too. And since she claims to be older than Barb by four minutes, she insists on being in charge. But maybe that's a good thing, because she draws in families, and especially cowboys from all over the area with her dandy cowboy-sized burger, and chili almost as good as Yancy's.”

He pointed. “And over there is Snips. It started out as a barbershop and beauty shop owned by Gert and Teddy Gleason. Now they've added a spa to the building next door. They haven't named it yet, but folks around here are calling it Dips.”

At her puzzled look he explained, “They dip their hands and feet, and sometimes their entire body in all kinds of fancy mud and green tea baths and stuff. So…Dips.”

“Snips and Dips. You've actually got a spa in Glacier Ridge.” That had Vanessa shaking her head.

“So they tell me.” Matt grinned. “Though I haven't been in there to see it for myself.”

“Where do you get your hair cut?”

He shrugged. “Usually Yancy cuts our hair whenever we come in from the range looking too shaggy.”

She gave him an admiring glance. “Give Yancy my compliments. He does a nice job.”

Matt's smile turned into laughter. “I'll be sure to let him know you approve. He's been itching to get his hands on Reed's ponytail. But my brother's having none of it. So, if you'd like a trim while you're staying with us, just let Yancy know.”

He pointed. “Over there is the police chief's office, and beside it, the jail.”

“Does the town ever get any criminals?”

“A few, now and then. Mostly cowboys who come to town to spend their paychecks and drink too much at the Pig Sty.”

Vanessa shot him a look. “You're kidding, aren't you? There's actually a bar called the Pig Sty?”

Matt pointed to the faded sign. “The real name is Clay's Saloon. It's just across from the jail. Back in Grandpop Frankie's day, old Clay Olmsted used to own a pig farm until he decided there had to be an easier way to earn a living. So he sold his farm and moved to town. He bought an old, boarded-up store, called it Clay's Saloon, and never looked back. But folks around here mostly refer to it as Clay's Pig Sty.”

Matt added with a laugh, “One of our early sheriffs, Vinny Thurgood, figured he ought to build his jail as close to the potential drunks as he could, so he built his office and jail right across the street from Clay's place. Of course, it was a dirt road when they both started out. But now it's a proper paved street, suitable for an important town like Glacier Ridge.”

They laughed, then Matt pointed to the end of the street. “There's the courthouse, and up on the hill is the high school and church.”

It was, Vanessa noted, the perfect picture of a small-town church, surrounded on three sides by a cemetery.

“And just beyond the city limits,” Matt added, “is the fairgrounds. When the ranchers around here finish roundup, they always gather there for the annual rodeo. A mile or so beyond is the local airport, where you landed.”

He turned the ranch truck, parking in front of a tidy little shop sporting a red-and-white-striped awning with the name Anything Goes.

Matt stepped out of the truck and circled around to the passenger side, holding the door for Vanessa. “Like the name says, you can find anything and everything right here.”

He led her inside and winked at the pretty woman heading toward them. “Hey, Trudy. I'd like you to meet Burke's cousin, Van Cowley.”

“Nice to meet you, Van. What's that short for?”

“Van…Vanilla. My parents love the smell of it, the taste of it. So…” Vanessa shrugged, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink as she found herself getting caught up in the charade. “They named me Vanilla.”

Matt covered his laughter with a cough, hoping nobody noticed.

“Well, Van, I'm Trudy Evans. This is my shop. What are you looking for?”

“She needs some ranch gear. Jeans. Boots. Shirts and…stuff.” Matt was trying to choke back his laughter and not embarrass her further by mentioning underwear.

“Packed the wrong things for your visit, did you?”

At the woman's long, steady look, Vanessa found her cheeks growing warmer. “Yes, I…misjudged.”

Matt backed away. “Yancy gave me a list of supplies to pick up. When I'm done with his shopping, I'll pick you up here and settle your account.”

The woman nodded. “I'll take care of everything, Matthew.”

Vanessa was already shaking her head. “I have my own credit card.”

Matt smiled at her. “I'll settle with Burke when we get back to the ranch, since your card's no good here, Van.”

At his emphasis of her phony name, Vanessa realized that she'd almost made a serious mistake. “Thanks.”

She could see his shoulders shaking as he walked away, and knew he was getting a kick out of this. Not only that, but leaving her here alone to deal with this messy lie.

At that she gritted her teeth.

Vanilla Cowley.

She felt like a total idiot.

“Ready to shop, Van?”

“Sure thing, Trudy.” She stood a little taller and decided she would let go of her embarrassment and try to enjoy the next hour or so by spending Matt Malloy's money. In fact, lots of his money.

It was the least she could do to even the score.

  

Trudy led Vanessa to the back room of the shop. It was equipped as a fitting room, with a three-way mirror and hooks along the walls for hanging clothes.

Vanessa set the underthings she'd chosen on a wooden bench in the corner.

“Now these are my best slimming jeans.” Trudy held up a pair in Vanessa's size. “They've got a built-in tummy trimmer. Not that you need it,” she added with an admiring glance. “But since you're just visiting, you probably don't want to bother with regular working jeans. Most of the ranchers around here just want something serviceable for mucking stalls and ranch chores.”

“Why don't you leave both kinds?” Vanessa took them from Trudy's hands and set them aside. “I may as well give everything a try.”

Trudy beamed. “You'll need some shirts and a sweater or sweatshirt. It can get pretty cold most mornings and evenings around here until later in the summer.”

“And a pair of sturdy boots,” Vanessa added.

“I'll be right back.”

Vanessa could see Trudy rubbing her hands together. She was already counting her profits.

It took almost two hours trying on jeans, tops, boots, and a parka, as well as a denim jacket. She even found a baseball cap that she figured would come in handy.

Trudy paused in the doorway and took in the bench, now holding an array of clothing.

Vanessa was dressed in slim denims, Western boots, and a pretty pale blue turtleneck, topped off with the denim jacket. “I think I'll wear these and you can bag the rest.”

“You made good choices. Will there be anything else?”

Vanessa shook her head. But minutes later, as she was looking around, she caught sight of a Western hat in the softest brown suede. Pausing in front of a mirror she tried it on, expecting to feel silly. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised. Not only did it look right, with her hair falling long and loose, but it felt perfect with her new outfit.

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