The Mile High Madness Page 18

  Trying not to get angry again, at Peyton’s remark, she removed her jacket, shirt and then unzipped the skirt. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she noticed a brownish-grey scuff on the denim from when she’d landed on the road. She brushed at it and then shimmied it down the length of her legs.

  And her poor sandals. The few steps she’d taken outside had indeed, taken their toll. Bending over, she mourned the fact that these wouldn’t be worn again for a while. Probably not until next summer.

  “I forgot to bring these boxes up for you–” Stella peered over her shoulder in surprise. Peyton had barely stepped into the room before realizing his mistake. Without dropping the boxes, he backed out just as quickly and closed the door. Stella grabbed at her robe and stuffed her arms into the sleeves.

  And then three short knocks. Of course, now he knocks.

  Blushing from head to toe, she forced herself to answer. “Come in.”

  This time the door opened tentatively. “Sorry about that.” With the door only halfway opened, Peyton slipped inside with the stack of boxes she’d forgotten. Presents for Misty and Corinne. Although the imbecile seemed a little sheepish, a ridiculous grin spread across his face.

  “You can set them on the floor.” Stella pulled the robe tighter and hugged herself. “I, er, thought I’d change into something less…ridiculous.”

  He carefully placed the boxes on the floor before rising to his full height, looping a thumb around the top of his jeans. The look he gave her somehow caused that flush she’d been trying to ignore to deepen.

  “My fault.” But he still hadn’t made a move to leave. “I won’t do it again. I just didn’t think.” Stella glanced at his face only to drop her gaze just as quickly. It was as though his fathomless blue eyes saw right through her. She stared at his hands instead.

  The blackish oil no longer stained them. He’d washed up but still needed to change his shirt. This didn’t repulse her though. For some odd reason she liked it. Everything about him was just so – so – male.

  God, she’d been practically naked, her butt in the air, when he walked in. She tried to brush it off. No big deal, right?

  “It’s okay. I’ve worn less around a pool.” Which was the truth and yet… She needed to change the subject. “Do you need help in the kitchen? It won’t take me a minute to change.”

  He licked his lips before answering. She felt certain he didn’t do this because he was slow. More likely, his hesitations showed restraint. She’d never really known anyone like that before. The people she worked with, and her friends at home, reacted to everything quickly.

  “You know how to throw together a salad?” His voice didn’t condescend even though he was obviously teasing her.

  “You mean that green stuff? And those orange sticks? I vaguely remember learning something about onions in college.” She ventured meeting his eyes again when he chuckled.

  That laugh. She felt it right down to her toes. The sensation reminded her of how she’d felt his sigh over the speakers in her car.

  “Yeah, that green stuff.” And then he frowned. “You do know how to cook, don’t you?”

  She could either get angry or be understanding. She opted for understanding. This entire situation called for an abundance of understanding. “Yes. As a grown woman who’s lived alone for nearly a decade, I’ve realized the importance of learning how to cook.” Pretty much. Salads, in fact, were her specialty. She’d also been known to microwave a mean Lean Cuisine on occasion.

  He drifted over to the window. “You have a boyfriend or something? Somebody who’ll be missing you this fall?” He stared outside as he asked the questions.

  For a minute she thought about Chad. She hadn’t even told him she was leaving town. They’d dated on and off but never made any sort of a commitment to one another. He kept busy at his job in finance and she spent her time gathering images and information to keep her client’s media content fresh.

  She probably ought to shoot him a text though. Apparently, she’d paused long enough that Peyton guessed her answer. He glanced over his shoulder and cocked one eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

  “Kind of. Nothing serious.” She didn’t want to discuss Chad with him. “What about you?” Now why’d she go and ask that?

  He shrugged. “Same.”

  Was it possible he could be even less communicative than he’d been before? And where had this sudden curiosity on her part come from? “Same?” She prodded.

  “Kind of. Nothing serious.”

  Is he mocking me?

  At her exasperated look, he stepped away from the window and pulled something from his back pocket. “Think I’m lying?” He opened his wallet and handed it over. She wasn’t sure he believed she’d actually flip through it, but she wasn’t about to pass up a chance to learn something about him.

  The first photo looked as though he’d carried it around for decades. A happy looking couple stared back at her from the faded and dog eared image. “Your parents?”

  He nodded.

  The next picture was one she’d seen before. In fact, she had the same one in her purse. It was of Corinne sitting in a hospital bed holding Misty as a newborn. Corrine glowed. Not wanting to think about how different she looked now, Stella flipped past a picture of Red and then a few more of Misty. On the last page, a picture of a blond girl in a cowboy hat stared back at him. Although she couldn’t know for sure, the fact that the girl’s shoulders were bare lead Stella to believe the cowboy hat might have been all she wore. “This her?”

  “Miss Valerie Hunter.” He reached out and Stella reluctantly handed it back to him.

  “She looks awfully young for you, Peyton. She out of high school yet?” Why was she goading him? Of course, a guy like him would never lack female companionship.

  “Very funny.” He stuffed it back into his pocket. And then: “I’ll go down and set the table. Don’t forget about that salad you promised.”

  He looked a little uncomfortable. “I won’t.’ Stella said. “Just let me get dressed first.”

  Pause – pause – pause – pause. She was getting used to this now. His eyes darkened as he narrowed them at her. The word ‘smoldering’ came to mind. “You’re not gonna forgive me for that, are you?” Her knees practically buckled.

  “Me? It’s already forgotten.” Keep it light Stella.

  He walked over to the door as though to leave but then turned around one last time. “Don’t think I’ll be forgetting, Stella. Not for a very long time. He took a step backwards and grinned. “Even if I wanted to.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Since Misty was staying the night at the neighbor’s, the three adults sat down to a quiet dinner alone that evening. Stella imagined the mood would have been considerably different if Misty had been home.

  Corinne tried to keep conversation flowing, but seemed tired and Peyton, well. He wasn’t all that talkative to begin with.

  But Stella hated silences. They made her itchy. Despite the self-consciousness she felt with Peyton, she forced herself to liven things up. “The drive over was breathtaking. I think the autumn leaves are peaking. Red’s, golds, yellows. I could barely keep my eyes on the road.” And it had been beautiful. Even in her grief she’d found herself in awe.

  “We need to take you up on the mountain,” Corinne took a small bite of potato – a very small bite. “Maybe Peyton could take you up with Misty. I’ll bet Misty would love that.”

  Peyton peered up from his food and nodded slightly in his sister’s direction.

  Stella proceeded cautiously. “Have you been able to ride at all lately, Corinne?”

  Corinne pushed her food around her plate. “I haven’t had time. It’s taken all I’ve got just to keep up with the house.”

  Peyton pointed his fork in her direction. “No more. You’ve got Stella here now, and I have Mrs. Carpenter coming once a week to clean.” Understanding dawned as Stella watched Corinne’s sheepish expression.

  Corinne hated struggling to
do her part. She’d always been hard working, tough. “Peyton’s right, sweetie.” Stella touched her arm gently. “I want you to spend your time doing what you love, with Misty – and with me. You take me riding. Write down all the things you’d normally do and if I have questions I’ll ask Peyton or Misty. Or you can show me. You need to reserve your strength though.”

  “Oh but–”

  “Write it down, Corinne.” Peyton interrupted her. Stella caught his eye. They were on the same page.

  The rest of the meal passed less contentiously. They were all avid football fans and the Colorado team had defeated every opponent so far. Stella said they’d jinx the team though, to start talking about a Super Bowl run.

  They also discussed how Misty loved her teacher. She was already ahead, having learned to read at home last year. Stella could hardly wait to see the little girl. She gave the best hugs in the world.

  By the end of the meal, Stella saw that Corinne’s energy was already diminishing. Knowing her friend wouldn’t want to admit it, Stella placed her napkin on the table and began gathering dishes.

  “You can’t do that, you’re a guest!” Corinne seemed to forget for a moment why Stella was here before both Peyton and Stella stared her into submission. “Oh, very well! But only until I’m better.” And then she tossed her own napkin onto the table and left the room.

  Not sure what to say, Stella finished stacking the plates and carried them over to the large island. The kitchen was as practical and charming as the rest of the house. She’d never seen counter tops like this though. Not granite, or tile… Cement? And the cupboards seemed custom made as well. In fact, the wood matched the long table they’d just dined at.

  Peyton followed her with the glasses and a few serving dishes. He opened the dishwasher for her and made another trip to the table. By the time he’d finished, Stella had loaded the dishwasher and was searching for containers to store the leftovers. Surprisingly they worked together in a comfortable silence.

  After drying his hands, Peyton switched on the single cup coffee maker and pulled out an assortment of blends to choose from. “Coffee?”

  Stella leaned against the counter and nodded. “Something sweet and fufu if you have it.”

  He grinned unashamedly at that.

  “It’s Saturday night, don’t you have a date with Miss Valerie?” Something curdled inside her at the thought of him with the blond from the photograph. Stella knew better than to judge a person by how they looked but that picture… But really! Who has their picture taken wearing nothing but a cowboy hat?

  Peyton inserted the pod and pressed the button. The coffee was practically brewed before he answered. “Too much work these days.”

  Hm. If he were her boyfriend, at such a time as this, she’d want to be with him, do what she could to help.

  Not that she could think of him that way. He was Corinne’s brother. It would be utterly tasteless to scam on her friend’s brother at a time like this. A sad sigh escaped her.

  “What?” He’d picked up on that pretty quick.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.” He handed her the steaming cup and then inserted another plastic pod.

  With his back to her she had a perfect view of his behind. She didn’t normally notice these sorts of things on men, it was just that his was so … perfect. A shiver ran down her spine.

  She blew on the coffee and took a sip. “You don’t have to entertain me.” She said, wondering if he really did have work to do.

  He turned and rested that perfect behind against the counter. “I don’t intend to. But–” he added – “we still have some daylight. Thought you’d be up for a quick tour. Familiarize yourself a bit.”

  “Sure.” She’d changed into what she hoped was a Ranch approved outfit. She figured she could handle whatever he had in mind. He removed the second cup of coffee from the machine and took a lazy sip.

  “Well,” he drawled. “This is the kitchen.” At first, she thought he was kidding but then he began showing her where dishes were kept and the frozen food and of course, a well-stocked pantry. Not saying where they were headed, he then led her through a laundry room to the back porch. “If you put the trash in these containers, I’ll drive it down to the road on Wednesdays. Gotta make sure the lids are shut tight though. We don’t need any more unwanted visitors.”

  “Like me?”

  He grunted. “Yeah, just like you.”

  Except she wasn’t. Peyton should have told her. In fact, he’d appreciated Stella backing him when it came to telling Corinne to rest. His sister could be stupid and stubborn and they’d taken to arguing over how much she should be doing ever since the diagnosis.

  Stepping onto the deck he’d built a few years ago, he paused to sip his coffee. He never got tired of staring out at these mountains. They changed every day and yet were as familiar as the back of his own hand.

  The sound of canine footsteps sounded on the porch and Peyton exhaled. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.

  Good ol’ Red.

  Stella, who’d moved to the railing, clasped her arms in front of her again.

  “You can’t be afraid of Red, sweetheart.” Peyton told her. Setting his coffee aside, he bent down to rub behind Red’s ears.

  Both curiosity and distrust flickered across her face as she watched him with his dog. She’d changed into jeans, which was a good thing, but also a bad thing. On one hand, he was glad she’d brought along some practical clothing, on the other hand he found her even more attractive now. She seemed more real somehow –not some plastic city girl who was more comfortable with traffic than cattle.

  And damn if she wasn’t real.

  The sight of her bent over in nothing but those iddy biddy underwear was burned on his brain forever. Hot pink. And her bra had matched. Just thinking about it now made him itch to… He cut himself short. Not the right time. Not the right person. He ought to be tarred and feathered for letting his mind go there.

  She licked her lips and took one tentative step towards them. “He probably knows that I’m afraid. I’ve never had a dog.”

  Peyton scrubbed his hand along Red’s back. “He won’t hurt you.” And then he reached a hand towards her. He hadn’t meant to. As soon as he did it he wanted to snatch it back, but it was too late.

  She took hold of it and crouched beside him. He’d held her hand twice already but both of those times had felt like a business agreement.

  This was different. She clasped his fingers trustingly. Her hand felt soft, fragile.

  She let go quickly though, and then gave Red the most pathetic pet Peyton ever had the misfortune to witness. But this was progress.

  “Hey Red.” She grew bolder, gradually running her hand along the top of the dog’s back. And then she flashed her eyes at him, smiling. “He likes it, doesn’t he?”

  He’d never seen eyes like Stella’s before. Silver grey – not blue. Even with that long hair pulled into a pony tail, she managed to look exotic. “He does.” His voice came out gravelly sounding so he cleared his throat. “How come you never had a dog?”

  She straightened her back at his question. “I grew up in an apartment with my mom.” By now Red had laid down on the ground, completely relaxed and willing to be coddled all night. Stella surprised Peyton by dropping to the ground herself and sitting with crossed legs. She seemed nearly as comfortable as Red now. “You can’t have pets in an apartment.” She explained this to him as though he ought to know such information already.

  He’d meant to walk her down to the barn, show her the horses and describe some of the chores Corinne did but decided this was better. He pulled over one of the patio chairs instead. It was good for her to make friends with Red. She’d more than likely be on her own around here soon and he didn’t want her feeling afraid.

  “You and Corinne met in college, right?” He wanted to learn more about this woman who’d dropped everything to come help his sister.

  Still rubbing Red’s back, she nod
ded. “Freshman year.”

  “I’ll bet the two of you got into all kinds of trouble.”

  She laughed at that before answering. “We had fun. I imagine you were a lot more trouble than us. You went to college, didn’t you? I kind of remember Corinne mentioning something about that.”

  A subject Peyton hated. He ought to be over it by now but… he wasn’t.

  “I did.”

  “What was your major?” Red licked at her hand now and she wasn’t pulling away.

  Stella Fairchild was some sort of social media guru. That boyfriend of hers could be a millionaire for all he knew. “Pre-med.” Peyton had worked hard in school. Pulled a 3.98 and been accepted into a good medical program.

  And then walked away.

  Her hand stopped petting Red, but the dog nudged her to continue. She resumed her motions but now watched him closely. Did she know? Corinne had to have told her about their parents’ accident. They’d been killed when their car went off an icy pass. His sister had been a senior in high school.

  “So, you aced all those classes and then returned to work the ranch?” Yep, she knew.

  Peyton nodded.

  “Do you like it? Running the ranch?”

  Maybe Peyton ought to have taken her on that tour after all. He’d wanted to learn a little about her and she’d turned the tables on him. But did he? Like running the ranch?

  “I love it,” he answered, almost surprising himself. “Not the hours, and the never-ending work, but the animals, the seasons, working outside doing the same thing my father did and his father before him.”

  She sighed and then looked out towards the amazing view he’d lived with his entire life. “Corinne always told me she loved it. I don’t know how she would have made it through the divorce if she hadn’t had all this to come home to. And you.”