it at that.
True to his best intentions, he drove her to the Shaw ranch, walked her to the front door of the house he’d been raised in, saw her safely inside and told her he was sure they’d see each other the next day.
It was that easy.
Or at least he had thought it would be easy. But driving away from the ranch after dropping her off, he realized her scent lingered in his truck. He lifted his jacket to his nose and sniffed. Yeah, that was her. The scent was oriental, not sweet and flowery.
He grinned and draped the jacket over the seat as he headed down the bumpy trail toward his place. All the while her scent teased him and he thought that it might be nice to spend time with a woman who spoke her mind. It would be easy. And in a month she’d be gone. That made her just about perfect.
Katie walked downstairs Sunday morning, her second day in the Shaw home and her second day feeling out of place. She didn’t belong here, not in this town or in this house. This was Gwen’s moment, not Katie’s. And yet, here she was.
She took a deep breath and put on a smile and hopefully a look of confidence. She could do this. Following the sound of laughter and voices raised in numerous conversations, she walked through the pine-paneled living room and headed toward the big country kitchen with its long, butcher-block table, gleaming granite countertops and light oak cabinets. Julie Shaw, auburn hair and blue eyes, turned to smile at her.
“Good morning, Katie. Do you want coffee? And we have muffins, bacon and sausage this morning. Breakfast is simple on Sundays.” Julie’s long, auburn hair curled down past her shoulders. She wore her typical homespun sweater but today with a skirt.
“Coffee and a muffin sounds great,” Katie admitted.
Julie pointed to a plate and clean cups. Katie had been told that Julie Shaw raised sheep for their wool. She had an internet business selling that wool and hand-knit items she made. Katie loved fashion and could appreciate the beauty of Julie’s creations. Before she left town, she planned on buying several items.
“There’s fresh coffee in the pot,” Julie continued. “But you have to hurry. It’s the second pot we’ve made and with this many people in the house it won’t last long.”
Julie lived in her own house on the Shaw property. Katie had seen the little place from a distance and the field dotted with the sheep Julie raised for their wool.
“Thank you.” Katie looked around the kitchen, smiling at Nadine Shaw and her daughter Faith Shaw, who had just walked through the door. Both were dressed for church.
Faith wasn’t the youngest Shaw, but she was the tiniest. She and Julie shared the auburn hair they had probably inherited from their mother, and the blue eyes of their father. But Faith was tiny and less inclined to gab at the drop of a hat. Julie had told Katie that Faith played the violin for the Bozeman Symphony, but she’d gone to Seattle for a short time. It hadn’t worked out was the only answer given when asked why Faith hadn’t stayed.
“Do you attend church, Katie?” Faith asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She was dressed in a cute denim-and-lace dress, turquoise-and-brown cowboy boots and a scarf around her neck.
Katie looked over the top of her cup. Did she attend church? She hadn’t been raised in church, but last year a friend, seeing that Katie was a train wreck about to happen, had shared faith with her and invited her to spend a few weekends in the small town where she lived so that Katie could attend church. She’d gone and she’d found something that filled a huge void in her life that she’d been trying to fill with relationships. Going-nowhere relationships.
“I’d love to go to church,” she finally answered. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” Julie gave her a careful look. “Do you go to church in Missoula?”
Katie shook her head. “Not usually. I just haven’t known where to go.”
Or how to walk in alone. She definitely wouldn’t have the alone problem today, not with this group of people.
Faith walked up behind her, giving her a tight hug and taking her by surprise. “You’ll love our little mountain church. Well, it isn’t little. I guess it must have been at one time, but it’s been built on to.”
“Is everyone about ready to head for church? Those who are going?” Jackson Shaw walked into the kitchen, taking up more space than a man should. His very presence commanded respect, Katie thought. And he made her shake in her shoes, just a little.
“Katie’s going,” Julie offered. “And I think Michael and Helen. Oh, and Thomas and Mandy plus her sister, Beth.”
She pointed to one of the couples that would be getting married at the end of the month. Another couple entered the room, along with the sister of the bride. Beth. Katie had met Beth the previous evening. She was a pretty brunette, petite with big brown eyes. Katie felt like a giant in comparison.
“No need taking half a dozen cars.” Jackson looked around the room, his lips moving as he counted. “We’ll take the Suburban and if Cord shows up, someone can ride with him.”
“Cord doesn’t usually go to church,” Julie shared in a whisper for Katie only.
Cord didn’t attend church? That piece of the puzzle didn’t fit. It was like putting a corner piece in the middle and trying to make it work. He was a Shaw from Jasper Gulch. It seemed to her that church and faith would be part of his DNA.
Before she could comment, there were footsteps and Cord’s voice coming from the direction of the living room. His voice was low and husky as he spoke to someone. The dog, his mother’s poodle, barked. He told the dog to be quiet. When he entered the room, carrying the poodle and talking to his mom, Katie had a moment. She told herself it wasn’t one of those moments, the kind when you see a guy and something amazing happens. It was a moment that was sweet and undefined but precious. Cord Shaw seemed like a good, decent man.
He was also a man in his mid-thirties who had never married. There had to be a reason for that.
Twice bitten kept coming back to her. Who had said that about Cord Shaw? Did that mean he’d been married twice, or rejected twice?
It didn’t matter. Her attention drifted to take in his appearance, even though she said she didn’t care. If his father filled up space, Cord Shaw took the oxygen. He was dressed in jeans, boots and a button-down shirt. But no hat. His dark wavy hair caught her attention because it looked as if he’d brushed it with his fingers. As if he’d read her mind, he brushed a hand across the top of his head, pushing the wayward strands into some type of order.
“Why’s everyone looking at me?” Cord glanced around. On second look she realized he wasn’t dressed for church. His jeans were faded, his shirt was flannel and his boots were worn.
He glanced at his dad and neither of them smiled.
Family dynamics and more of the tension she’d felt the previous evening.
“We’re filling up the Suburban to go to church and I think we have too many people.” As Jackson spoke, Cord started backing up. Jackson glanced
