Mountain Heiress: Mountain Midwife (14 page)

He swatted her naked butt. “Maybe we can talk about that later. Right now, I’m afraid we’ll run out of hot water.”

“I don’t want a cold shower.”

“Then we should take this to the bedroom.”

Stepping out of the shower, they took their time toweling each other dry, and she had a chance to admire his lean physique. The word
gorgeous
wasn’t enough to describe his sinewy arms and torso. He was perfect.

“You could be a male model,” she said.

“Shoot me now.”

“I know lots of women who would buy anything you were wearing. They’d dress up their boyfriends, but none of the other men would look as good as you do.”

“Whoa, Gabby, I’m supposed to do the sweet-talking.”

She combed her wet hair straight back from her forehead. “Is that how this works?”

“Your ancestor—Louis the Frenchman—knew how to tell his wife that she was beautiful. That’s why he wrote those letters. I’m not as good with words.”

“I prefer a man of action.”

In his bedroom, she pulled back the comforter while he closed the door. Earlier, he’d told her that he’d leave his bedroom door open so he could hear if an intruder approached.

She asked, “Shouldn’t you leave that open?”

“Why?”

“Security,” she said. “With the door open, you can hear if the bad guys come sneaking up on us.”

“That was when I thought you’d be sleeping next door, and I might need to rescue you. That’s not necessary.” He leaned against the door for emphasis. “Everything that’s precious to me is right here in this room.”

“Me?”

“You,” he said.

He was a man of few words, but they were all the right ones. She opened the sheets and slid between them. Tonight she would share his world. Tonight they would make love. Tonight they would truly start their relationship.

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Gabby was wide-awake a few minutes before seven, even though Zach’s bedroom curtains kept the room nice and dark. Being careful not to wake him, she snuggled against his shoulder in a position that had become familiar. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know. And every intimate detail felt like a revelation. She knew he was ticklish just below his rib cage. His left arm and leg bore the scars from the rodeo injury that ended his career. Last night, they’d made love again and again. She’d expected to be tired but was energized instead. Maybe the cure for altitude sickness was spending the night in the arms of a cowboy.

After dropping a little kiss on his chin, she reluctantly left the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom where her kimono hung on a wall hook. Though she would have preferred to spend the whole day naked in bed, they had a million things to do, ranging from the mundane to the exceptional, from picking up her car to tracking down an expert who could preserve the hundred-fifty-year-old love letters.

In the mirror over the sink, she saw her hair sticking out in all directions. Her blow-dryer was in the other bedroom, along with her clothes and makeup, but she didn’t want to run and get them. For now, she’d just dampen her hair and comb it back. The arid Colorado climate made her straight hair even straighter, which was actually a plus. If she kept her bangs trimmed, styling would be unnecessary.

When she returned to the bedroom, Zach was yanking open the curtains. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed, and she admired the view. Coming up behind him, she slid her arms around his middle. “Good morning.”

“Great morning.” He swiveled and gave her a lazy kiss. “I’d like to take you back to bed.”

“I’d like that, too.”

“But I’m already running late. I need to get out to the stables and give the men their instructions for what needs to get done today.”

“So early?”

“The day starts when the sun comes up.” He gave her another quick kiss. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen for breakfast.”

She didn’t want to be apart from him. “Do you mind if I look in your closet?”

“Why?” His blue eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”

“I’m thinking about the shirt I’m designing for Charlotte, and I thought you might have some fancy embroidery that would inspire me.” She sauntered over to his closet door. “May I?”

“Suit yourself.”

While he was in the bathroom, she flipped through the shirts and jackets hanging on the rack. In the back, she found several Western-style shirts. Almost all of them were snap front and long-sleeved with piping on the breast pockets. Most of the fabrics were plaid or a neutral color, but a couple of these shirts were worthy of a Western-wear peacock with metallic fringe draped across the chest and multicolored, curlicue embroidery covering the yoke. If a low-key guy like Zach was willing to get so fancy, she had to wonder what a more flamboyant cowboy would wear.

While she got dressed, an idea began to form in her mind. If she started selling custom embroidered shirts, she could live at the Roost and still have a fashion career. This might be a viable possibility.

In the kitchen, Rhoda greeted her warmly, but Gabby sensed an undercurrent of tension from the busy little woman who zipped around the large kitchen, putting together breakfast burritos with green chili. Gabby was certain that Rhoda knew she’d spent the night in Zach’s bed, and she didn’t want things to be difficult between them.

Rhoda dashed into the dining room to freshen the coffee of two ranch hands who were eating their breakfasts. When she returned, she said, “Help yourself to the burritos warming on the stove. Use as much chili as you want, but be careful, it’s hot.”

“I’ll just have coffee for now,” Gabby said as she poured herself a cup. “Can we talk?”

Rhoda halted beside the sink, tucked her hands into the pockets of her pin-striped chef’s apron and leaned against the counter. “What’s on your mind?”

“I want you to know that I care about Zach.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

“We’ve only known each other a couple of days, but it feels like I’ve been waiting to meet him all my life.” Gabby sipped her strong black coffee. “This isn’t a casual fling. It’s...”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“But I do. Ever since I got here, I’ve been hearing about the Rousseau family, heritage and legacy. The way I see it, you’re the closest thing to family that Zach has. If I have a relationship with him, you’re part of it.”

“There’s only one thing I’d like to know about your relationship.” She cocked her head to one side, a movement that was oddly similar to Daphne. “Are you going to go running back to Brooklyn and break his heart?”

Gabby considered for a moment before answering. She didn’t want to make a promise she couldn’t keep. “That’s not my intention. I’m planning to live at the Roost for three years.”

“That’s not what your brother says.”

“I make my own decisions,” Gabby said. “Daniel doesn’t tell me what to do.”

Rhoda opened her arms and gave her a hug. “I wish Michelle had brought you out here sooner.”

“So do I.”

Gabby stepped back. “Did Zach tell you what we found in the old house?”

“He told me that you almost got nabbed by the intruder.”

Gabby had almost forgotten the danger. So much else had happened. “In the old house, tucked inside a leather-bound volume, we found love letters written in French by Louis Rousseau.”

“What did they say?”

“My French isn’t great, but there was some beautiful language about her hair as black as midnight. It’s a shame that people don’t write love letters anymore. They’re so romantic. I can imagine his wife reading them over and over.”

“It’s different now,” Rhoda said. “The romantic notion of a love letter is nice, but I’ll take the convenience of technology any day of the week. I finally convinced Michelle to do her correspondence on the internet.”

“I would have thought she’d like computers as another means of artistic expression.”

“That was the problem. Michelle and I would sit down to work on her accounts, and she’d get distracted by some new way to mash photographs together.” Rhoda crossed the kitchen and started filling a paper plate with a burrito and fruit. “I love my computer. If it wasn’t for email and texting, I’d never know what my sons were doing.”

“Do they live around here?”

“One of them is in college in Denver. The other works at a winery near Grand Junction.”

As soon as she finished putting together the plate, Zach appeared in the kitchen doorway. Rhoda handed him the burrito and a travel mug of coffee.

“You’re running late,” she said. “You’ve got three or four men waiting out in the stables, and there are two more in here finishing breakfast.”

“When those guys are done eating, send them out to the corral. We’ve got a full day.”

“If you’re going into town, I have a list of things I need from the market.”

“No problem.” Turning away from Rhoda, he strode across the kitchen toward Gabby, set his coffee mug on the counter and rested his hand at her waist. His lips grazed her cheek for a quick kiss, and he lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “You smell good.”

“So do you.”

“Be ready to go by half past nine,” he said as he headed for the door.

Zach gave orders like a man who was accustomed to being in charge, but she wasn’t that obedient. “Where should I meet you? I need to go back over to the Roost and change clothes.”

“You’ll figure it out. Nine-thirty.” He left the kitchen.

She turned to Rhoda. “You and Zach operate like clockwork. How did you know when to dish out his food?”

“From down the hall, I heard the door to his room close.” She grinned. “This is our morning pattern. He’s always sleeping late, and I’m always pushing food at him.”

Gabby went to the kitchen window and looked out at the corral where Toby was riding in a circle on a dappled horse with a black mane. Zach stood at the fence, eating his burrito with his hands and talking to two other men in cowboy hats. Then he signaled to Toby. The scene was incredibly Western.

Gabby had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If she was ever going to have a deep relationship with Zach, she needed to learn something about horses and riding.

* * *

Z
ACH
WAS
MILDLY
surprised when he drove his truck to the Roost to pick up Gabby and found that she was ready to go. The bigger shock came when she ran through a very organized list of errands they needed to accomplish, starting with the rodeo site in Snowmass.

“The last thing we should do on our way home,” she said, “is go to the mechanic and pick up my car.”

“You’ve got it all figured out.” He allowed himself to relax, leaning back in his seat and gazing through the windshield at the fresh spring day. The grasses were green and the mountain fields were dotted with bright red and blue wildflowers.

“When I want, I can be efficient,” she said. “I ran a boutique in Brooklyn for almost two years, and I wasn’t lucky enough to have a brilliant assistant like Rhoda, who would do my accounting and keep my orders current.”

“Rhoda is amazing,” he said. “I don’t think I would have survived without her.”

“She mentioned something about doing computer work for Michelle. And I wondered if Michelle might have used Rhoda’s computer for correspondence and note-taking.”

“It’s possible.” He remembered the two women having tea in the afternoon and chatting at the dining room table with the laptop computer open beside them. “Why would that be important?”

“Michelle’s other computers were stolen. She might have left backup data with Rhoda.”

Every clue was worth checking out. While his men were keeping the security patrols at the Roost, Zach was confident that there would be no more break-ins. But he didn’t want this to be a permanent situation. They needed to find the intruder and figure out who he was working for. Either Fox or Osborne, it had to be one of them. Nobody else was connected with Michelle, and Zach refused to believe in random attacks from treasure hunters.

Beside him, Gabby was on her cell phone, talking to the librarian in Aspen and asking about someone who might know how to preserve old paper. After three more phone calls, she’d located a man who had a rare book collection. “He’ll be home all morning and we can just drop by. His address is in Snowmass. Does that sound good?”

“Yep.”

Gabby reached over and stroked the sleeve of his tan shirt. Her touch made him feel good and reminded him of last night’s lovemaking. He had never been with a woman who was so comfortable with her nudity. When she left the bed, she walked tall and proud, not hiding her body or playing self-conscious games. Being naked was natural to her, which was ironic considering that her career was about getting dressed up.

He was eager for tonight and tomorrow and the night after that. To tell the truth, he wouldn’t mind skipping all these errands and taking her to one of the fine hotels in Aspen where they could spend the day making love and eating steak from room service.

Again, she pulled at his sleeve, and he realized that her gesture wasn’t meant to be seductive. The only thing getting fondled was the fabric.

“Nice material,” she said. “Would you consider this shirt to be everyday wear or something special?”

“I wouldn’t wear it to muck out the horse’s stalls. But it’s not fancy.”

“Not like that metallic fringe shirt I found in your closet.” She beamed a wide grin. “I’d like to see you in that. It’s very Elvis.”

“What’s the deal with you and the shirts?”

“I think this is going to be my new business,” she said, “custom, embroidered Western shirts. I’m sure I could get some of the local shops to carry them on consignment. And I could also sell them online.”

He had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea. Cowboys were willing to pay a high price for a custom shirt. “You might be onto something.”

“You inspire me.”

This time, when she leaned close and slid her hand along his inner thigh, he had no trouble reading her message. He really wished this long day of errands would be over.

The rodeo arena in Snowmass was a venue also used for other sports, like baseball and soccer, but they did a good job of preparing for the various events. Since this was close to Aspen, no expense was spared, and there was a greater than usual concern about potential animal cruelty. A lot of wealthy environmentalists lived in this area. At one time, Aspen had tried to pass a law banning fur coats.

He parked his truck in the lot, and they went toward the bleachers to look for the guy who was running this show and the people who were giving him a hard time.

“Why are we here?” Gabby asked.

“To reassure the animal rights people that everything is on the up-and-up. For some reason, they want to talk to me, even though this event has been sanctioned by the PRCA and everybody has agreed to abide by all their rules.”

“What’s a PRCA?”

“Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association,” he said.

During his competitive years, Zach had been to rodeos that were badly run. The bulls and horses were mistreated, crammed into tiny chutes and shocked with prods to make them buck. Whenever he encountered cruelty, he withdrew from the competition, reported them and made a ruckus. He wasn’t a crusader or political in any way, but he’d gotten a reputation.

In the center of the ring, the man-in-charge was talking with two people Zach recognized. One was a reputable stock contractor who supplied the animals for rough riding. The other was a woman that Gabby would want to meet.

“That’s Sarah Bentley,” he said.

“The Forest Preservation Society lady?”

“Yep.”

When Zach introduced them, Sarah focused intently on Gabby as she shook her hand. “I’ve been thinking that I should pay you a visit.”

“I’m glad to meet you. I understand that you were friends with my great-aunt Michelle.”

“And I understand that you’re standing between the FPS and a huge amount of income.”

The battle lines had been drawn. Sarah’s attitude seemed too mercenary for a tree hugger, but Michelle’s estate was a significant contribution, one worth fighting for.