Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) Page 8
He slid his palm around her wrist, pulling her upright. “We’ll be back soon.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Trent nudged her toward the side of the house. “You’ve gone pale. Take a few deep breaths.”
As soon as they were out of sight, Gracie leaned forward, bracing her hands on her knees. She sucked in a great lungful of air, trying to clear the fuzzy dots drifting across her eyes. Trent’s hand rubbed her back in slow deliberate circles, centering a world that had tilted on its end.
“Are you alright?”
Gracie nodded. “I don’t know why I got so wound up. Half the men in Montana know how to wrestle a steer to the ground and ride a bull.” She stood up, trying to control her pounding heart. “I shouldn’t get too excited about Kristina’s husband being in the rodeo. And it could be a coincidence that he traveled a lot.”
“What’s your father’s name, Gracie?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Trent’s hand dropped to his side. “Can’t or won’t?” He stared at her with a mule-headed stubborn look on his face.
“If I find my father it could stir up a whole lot of issues. I don’t want you getting in the middle of my problems when you’ve got enough of your own.”
“Who is he, Gracie?”
Trent looked like he was fit to burst when Gracie kept her mouth closed.
“It won’t do any good keeping it a secret if you want help finding him.”
“You have to promise not to tell anyone I’m looking for my father.”
“You think I’d go around telling everyone?”
“Of course I don’t,” Gracie sighed. “But he might not live here and the list of names I’ve got could be totally wrong.”
“You wouldn’t have come all this way if you didn’t have an idea of who you were looking for. What’s his name, Gracie?”
“James Green.”
Trent’s body stilled. “So it could be Kristina’s husband?”
Gracie shrugged her shoulders. There had to be thousands of men in the world with her father’s name. It would be pure luck if her father still lived in Montana. If he was still alive. “I don’t know if it’s Kristina’s husband or not.”
Trent’s gaze traveled the length of the house, staring at a clump of trees sheltering the backyard. Children’s excited voices cut through the silence that had settled on their hiding place.
“Jim’s not going to be home for a while. That will give you time to locate some of the other people on your list.”
“I guess I should be glad he stopped still long enough to settle in one place. At least I’ll be able to find out one way or another whether we’re related.” Her lips wobbled into a half smile. A breeze stirred the nape of Gracie’s neck, cool and inviting, taking the sting out of the late afternoon heat. “We’d better get back to the others before they think we’ve disappeared.”
“Will you be alright?”
“I’ll be fine...” As they rounded the edge of the house more than one set of eyes followed them. “…but I don’t know about you.”
Gracie stopped in the middle of the yard. A ball flew along the ground straight toward them, followed by a red-faced six-year-old looking like he’d nearly run out of steam. Gracie put her foot out to stop the ball and kicked it back to the little guy. His face broke into a grin as he booted the ball back to the rest of the kids playing in the yard.
“I’m not about to stand between a man and his dreams.”
“What dreams?” Trent asked.
“Marriage. Babies. If people see us spending time together your wedding plans might turn to custard. Katie might be tempted to start looking elsewhere for her match made in heaven.”
Trent bent down until his head was level with hers. A smile hovered on his lips and his grey eyes flashed brighter than the afternoon sun. “You’ve forgotten one thing, Gracie,” he whispered. “I’m not looking for heaven.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Tossing the salad one last time, Gracie put it on a tray along with a couple of cold cans of lemonade and headed out of the kitchen. This time tomorrow night the first guests would be arriving for the best barn dance Bozeman had ever seen. For the last few days every ranch hand, wife and girlfriend had been working hard to get the Triple L ready for the big night.
Smoke from the barbecue stung her eyes as she walked through the French doors. Settling the tray onto the wooden table, she passed Trent a drink and leaned against the railing surrounding the deck.
“Thanks, Gracie. How was your ride with Jordan?”
She watched sausages and steak sizzle on the hot grill. “Spectacular, breathtaking, inspiring…and that’s only for starters.”
“I take it you’re talking about the scenery and not Jordan?”
Gracie laughed. “If I told Jordan he was all of those things his head would swell so much he wouldn’t be able to get through the kitchen door. And I wouldn’t do that to him because I know how much he loves Adele’s cooking.” Smiling at the warmth in Trent’s gaze, she ducked her head and fiddled with her glass. “In between admiring the mountains, we managed to find enough wildflowers to fill the barn to overflowing.”
“I take it you’re hooked, then?”
In more ways than one, a little voice whispered. “It kind of puts your life into perspective when you’re sitting on top of the world, watching nature do what it’s done for hundreds of thousands of years.”
Turning the heat down on the barbecue, Trent brushed more marinade over the meat.
Gracie took a sip of her drink. “I’m beginning to understand how you feel about the land. If I’d grown up here I’d want to raise my family on the ranch as well.”
Dropping the barbecue fork, Trent turned to face her. “Be still my beating heart. Does this mean you’ll marry a lowly cowboy?”
“No,” she laughed. “Life wasn’t meant to be that easy.”
“You’re a cruel woman.”
She blew him a kiss. “That’s what they all say.” Thinking about his desperate bid to find a wife reminded her of the reason she’d come to Montana. Over the last week she hadn’t had any luck tracking down any more J. Greens.
She’d even caught a ride into town with Jordan, convincing him to do a drive-by of two addresses she’d found in the phone book. He’d taken his beat-up work truck, sitting hunched in the driver’s seat with his hat pulled low, just in case someone recognized him. He hadn’t wanted to add stalking to his colorful reputation around town.
“I had a call from Gerald today.” Trent turned back to the barbecue. “His mom’s not doing as well as they expected. He’s going to stay with her for another few weeks. He wants to know if you’re happy to do the whole six weeks out here first and the last two in Bozeman.”
Gracie held the cold can of lemonade to her flushed face. “How do you feel about that?”
“Fine by me. As long as you’re happy?”
Gracie stared long and hard at his back. He didn’t seem worried about living together for another four weeks. She’d almost been looking forward to going into Bozeman. At least that way she could get on with her life and leave Trent to find the perfect Mrs. McKenzie. Wanting to jump his bones every time she saw him hardly made for a stress free living arrangement.
“Gracie?” Trent’s back muscles clenched under his fitting t-shirt as he turned to look at her.
She dragged her gaze back to her drink. She really had to do something about her fascination with his body. “Okay, let’s give it a go. But if I start to annoy you, just tell me and I’ll head into town.”
“Can I have that in writing?”
Gracie sighed. “I’ll leave it on the kitchen counter in the morning. What time are you leaving for tonight’s poker game?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Only when you’ve finished cooking dinner,” she said sweetly.
“Just for that, you can have the burnt piece of steak.”
Jordan walked onto the deck, looking a lot cleaner since the
last time Gracie had seen him. He’d spent the afternoon with his head buried in a work truck, covered in grease and engine oil, grumbling non-stop about idiot people who didn’t know how to look after their vehicles.
“You need to have a serious talk with your brother, Jordan. He wants to give me burnt meat for dinner.”
“He usually saves that for me. You must be making an impression on him.”
Trent choked on his lemonade. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at his brother. “And you would be here because?”
“I’m hungry, and you’re giving me a lift into the game tonight.” Jordan glanced at the barbecue. “Sausages need a turn. I’ll just go and get myself a plate and then it looks as though dinner’s ready.”
Trent watched his brother swagger into the dining room. “How the hell did he know we were eating?”
“It could have something to do with the smoke signals you’re wafting over the ranch.” Gracie laughed. “It was probably the burnt steak that did it.”
Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. Gracie stood in the kitchen, munching on a piece of toast and watching the first rays of the sun peak over the horizon. Trent came into the room looking all sleep tousled and cuddly.
He blinked. “Gracie? What are you doing up and dressed so early?”
“Morning to you too.” Smiling at his stunned expression, she added milk to her mug of chocolate. “We’re going into Bozeman for the farmers’ market, remember?”
“Yeah, but it’s only five thirty. We don’t have to leave for another hour yet.” He yawned and scratched the back of his head. “Why aren’t you still in bed?”
“I promised Karen I’d make more pavlovas for the barn dance. I made five yesterday and there’s another two in the oven. By the time we leave they’ll be done.”
Trent reached across the counter, pouring himself a thick, black mug of coffee. Just thinking about the mega-dose of caffeine hitting his system was enough to make Gracie’s stomach turn.
Trent leaned back against the counter. A look of bliss settled on his face as he swallowed his first sip. “I know, I know. This stuff’s not good for me. But it tastes real good first thing in the morning.”
Reaching for her hot chocolate, Gracie raised it in a salute, “We’ve all got to live dangerously at some point. How did the poker game go?”
Trent shook his head. “Not good. Adam cleaned me out of chips twice.” He glared across the room as Jordan came bounding into the kitchen. “What on earth are you doing here this early?”
“Isn’t that just dandy. A person gives up their Saturday morning sleep-in to be greeted by a grumpy old man in the morning.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Not exactly husband making material there.”
Gracie coughed as a toast crumb disappeared down her windpipe.
Trent glared at her. “Gracie?”
“Not me, I haven’t said a word. Scout’s promise.”
Jordan opened the fridge, pulling out last night’s leftovers. “The trouble with you, big brother, is that you think we’re all as blinkered as you are. Mom said you’ve been looking for a lady-love. What could be more romantic than meeting Ms. Right in the middle of a pile of hay?” He looked across at Gracie.
She felt herself blush scarlet.
Jordan stuck a plate of food in the microwave. “I’ve seen the guest list and the single girls are coming from far and wide. You’re not the only one who wants to look good, bro’.”
“You must think you’re a lost cause if you’re up at five thirty to get cleaned-up.” Trent poured another cup of coffee, holding it out to his brother as he passed by.
“Some of us don’t need to stay in bed to look beautiful, and some of us need all the help they can get.” He stared pointedly at Trent. “As I’m not the man in the firing line, I can afford to be a little more relaxed about my ruggedly handsome features.”
Gracie burst out laughing, earning her a sharp glance from Trent. Which made her laugh even harder.
Jordan winked at Gracie. “Mom gave me a list of jobs to do this morning. After I’ve had breakfast I thought I’d go across to the barn and make sure the decorations didn’t fall off the wall last night.” He eyed the toast that had just popped. “Are you going to eat that or just look at it?”
Trent sighed, passing him the toast.
Gracie rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, Jordan. I’ll meet you over at the barn and give you a hand until Trent’s ready to leave.”
Jordan grunted as Gracie left the room.
Trent followed her out of the kitchen. “Wait up, Gracie. I’ve got a surprise for you. Take a look in the living room.”
She stopped in the hallway. “You’ve found a wife already?”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
Gracie stuck her head around the wooden door on her left, not quite trusting the grinning cowboy behind her. “My suitcases!” She ran across the room and hugged her neon pink bags like long lost friends. “How did they get here?”
“Someone from the airport rang yesterday afternoon. Jordan and I picked them up on the way to the game last night.” A slow smile spread across his face. “The cases are almost as tall as you are. How much gear did you need to bring?”
“I’ve got an outfit for every occasion in here.” Gracie flipped a bag onto its end and extended the handle. “I never thought I’d see my clothes again.”
“Pretty hard to miss four bright pink suitcases. We got some funny looks when we were wheeling them out to the truck. I’ll give you a hand to put them upstairs.”
Trent leaned forward, taking the case Gracie wheeled past him out of her hands. His fingers brushed her skin and a jolt of something she didn’t want to name licked along her body.
He reached for another suitcase. “How’s the hunt going for your father?”
She breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t noticed the heat whipping along her skin. “Three crossed off my list, not including Kristina’s husband.” Gracie lifted the handles on the last two suitcases.
“Do you want help narrowing down the list?”
“I’ll be okay. You need to concentrate on finding a wife.”
Trent stopped in the middle of the room and scowled. “Have you thought about what’s going to happen after you find him?”
“Up until eight months ago, I thought my father was dead. Just knowing why he left would be better than nothing.” She pulled on the handles of her suitcases and wheeled them past Trent.
“Wait a minute. Why did you think your father was dead?”
“Mom told me he died in an accident when she was pregnant with me.” Gracie hauled her cases upright and turned to look at Trent. “He was a rodeo star. They met each other when he was touring New Zealand and she fell head over heels in love with him. For thirty years I believed they’d been married.” Gracie shook her head, feeling like a fool for all of the daydreams she’d built around the happy family that had never existed.
“What kind of a mother would lie about something like that?”
Gracie had wondered the same thing. She’d been angry and upset when her mom had finally told her the truth. But those feelings were nothing compared to the grief that had swept through her when her mom died. “She came from a small town. People talked and it wasn’t like it is today. She was eighteen, pregnant, and her parents weren’t happy. She ran away from home and lived with a friend in Wellington. She pretended she had a different life because it protected her from gossip and made it easier to make a life for us.”
“What made her change her mind and tell you the truth?”
Gracie felt the same swell of emotion that built deep in her chest whenever she thought about the last few months of her mom’s life. “She was diagnosed with terminal cancer and died six months later.” Gracie bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the rush of tears that never seemed to end. She took a deep breath and glanced at Trent. “I guess it was her way of letting me know that I wasn
’t alone in the world.”
Trent dropped the bags he was carrying and wrapped Gracie in a hug. She held onto his waist, burying her face in the musky scent that would always remind her of him.
“I’m sorry, Gracie.”
“I’m okay.” She took a step back and wiped her eyes. “I promised mom I’d try and find my father. But I don’t know what’s going to happen if I do find him or what I’m going to say.”
Trent gently tipped her chin up with his fingers. His eyes were soft and sincere and her heart melted. “I’ll be here for you when you find him, Gracie. We can sort it out together.” A grin crinkled the corners of his eyes. “But in the meantime we’ve got four monster suitcases waiting to be delivered. You want to give me a hand?”
Gracie nodded. “Thanks, Trent.”
“You’re welcome, short-stuff.”
Gracie enjoyed every minute of her visit to the Farmers Market in Bozeman. As they’d wandered around the craft stalls, they’d munched waffles thick with fresh strawberry jam and cream. Colorful tents sat side-by-side under a clear blue sky, everyone happy to talk about what they were selling or to past the time of day with a kiwi tourist.
After the craft section, Trent took her across to the fresh produce area. In no time at all they had the truck loaded with food, ready for the barn dance that night. As soon as they got back to the Triple L, Karen came bounding down the stairs followed by six of ‘the girls.’
“Morning everyone.” Karen opened the back of the truck and started passing out the boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables. “We’ve put the desserts in the living room so no sneaking samples, Trent. Jordan’s already been banned. Corn, potatoes, greens and bread all go in the kitchen. Jenny, can you take the fruit into the dining room and start on the platters?”
Karen commanded her troops with military precision. By early afternoon they’d washed, cut, scooped and plated so many dishes that Gracie’s head spun. They’d ended up with enough food to feed half the town and then some.
Trent stuck his head around the kitchen door as Karen cut the last tomato. “The barbecues are set up and we’ve unpacked the plastic plates and cutlery. Jordan’s showing the port-a-loo guys where to put the toilets, so we’re good to go.” He stared at the kitchen. “Man, look at all this food. There’s not one scrap of spare counter space anywhere.”