the hardware store.
Images of Brody Harcourt slipped through her mind. She shook them off. Brody was better matched with a young, pretty girl who had no attachments. No history.
And she was better off with someone more solid and settled.
If she could ever find anyone like that who would also be willing to take on another man’s children.
Such a silly dream, she thought, turning away from the window and back to her reality.
Brody parked his truck in front of his cabin, turned off his engine and dragged his hands over his face as if smoothing out his thoughts.
All the way back to the ranch he had been thinking about what Dylan had said about David. When he heard Hannah was planning the fair, he was the one who had pitched the idea to his buddies at the fire station to set up a booth. All so he could find a reason to go talk to her.
When Rusty told him that Hannah was the secretary of the Time Capsule Committee, he thought this was another opportunity.
Then Dylan had told him what he had about David and once again Brody felt he was wasting his time.
He looked over at his parents’ house perched up on the hill. His father had built it for his mother after they had talked about expanding the ranch. Brody had been dating a girl he met in Bozeman and he thought things were getting serious between them and he and his father started making plans for the future. Trista was perfect in every way. Young. Pretty. Loved the ranch. Loved horses. Loved him. Or so he’d thought until her old boyfriend came back into town and she started pulling away. Brody had no desire to play second fiddle to anyone, so they both decided it was best if they broke up.
His mother had been more brokenhearted than he had been. Which made him wonder just how much he had cared for Trista.
He had dated a couple of girls since then but nothing seemed to take. Somehow, in some twisted part of his mind, he compared every woman he ever met to Hannah.
Then David died.
Brody had bided his time, giving her space, and thought maybe now was the time. He had figured wrong.
Brody got out of the truck, a chilly breeze fingering down his neck. Fall was coming and with it the work of gathering the cattle.
He stepped inside his cabin and dropped the mail he had picked up on a table just inside the door. He was about to leave again but took a moment, looking around the interior, trying to see it through others’ eyes.
Hannah’s eyes?
It was the main ranch house when his parents moved here, but the family had only lived here until a new, larger home was built. When Brody graduated high school, he’d moved back here, preferring to have his own place. Though he had spent a number of years away from Jasper Gulch, traveling, he always knew he would come back to the ranch to stay. For the past six years this cabin had been his home.
An old leather couch, chair and love seat, all cast off from his parents, crowded around a woodstove in the living room. Opposite them stood a table with four mismatched chairs parked under a large window overlooking the ranch. The kitchen area was to his right. It had a few cabinets and a fridge and stove, also taken from his parents’ home when they upgraded and renovated the main ranch house. Between the dining and living area was a hallway leading to two small rooms and a bathroom/laundry room.
For a moment he wondered what Hannah would think of this house.
He caught himself and stopped that thought before it had a chance to take root. He had to be practical, and Dylan’s comments about taking on the twins and the ensuing responsibility were a reminder of what came with Hannah. The history he would have to compete with. Besides, Hannah didn’t seem very interested.
He left to see where his father was. He strode up the graveled walk to his parents’ house, a two-and-a-half-story home built into a hillside and surrounded by pine trees.
He knocked on the large double doors, then, without waiting for an answer, walked inside. The open foyer was piled with old boots, clothes and boxes of various sizes. All evidence of an ongoing cleaning operation his mother had undertaken in the past few months but was having a hard time finishing. He toed off his boots and dropped his hat on top of a pile of boxes labeled Jennifer and Sophia. His sisters who were both living in Denver.
His mother sat at the eating counter of the kitchen to the right of the entrance, hunched over her iPad, her elbow resting on the granite countertop, supporting her chin.
“Where’s Dad?” he asked, looking past her to the open living room that took up most of the house. His father’s leather recliner, sitting on one side of the rock-covered fireplace, only held a stack of papers. His mother’s, on the other side, held her latest project, a scarf she had been knitting under Julie Shaw’s tutelage.
“He headed out to check the high pasture,” she said, flicking through a series of pictures. “He took the old ranch truck.”
“He’d better not be moving cows,” Brody said, frowning. His father had recently had a bout of heart issues and though he claimed he was feeling better, Brody didn’t want him doing the hard work he used to.
“Dad said he would wait until Lewis was back, which won’t be until after next weekend.” His mother swiped her finger over the screen of the iPad again, smiling at what she was seeing.
Lewis was their hired hand. He had gone to Helena for the weekend courting a woman he had met at the rodeo held in Jasper Gulch a couple of months ago.
“What are you looking at?” Brody asked, pulling a tall stool up beside her.
His mother sighed lightly and turned the iPad toward him. “Aunt Kirsty sent me some pictures of her newest grandson, Owen.” This was said with a sigh tinged with envy. “The newest of six.” She looked up at him and emitted a second sigh meant to create a hint, but Brody simply patted her on the shoulder and grinned.
“Sophia sounds like she and her guy are getting serious,” he said, hoping to shift his mother’s attention from him to his sister. “Someday they might give you grandkids.”
She looked back at the picture of the chubby baby boy sucking on his fingers wearing a blue-and-white-striped shirt. “So, how was your morning? Did you get your stuff all set up for the fair?” Hopefully the shift in topic meant that was the end of that train of thought. His mother had been getting all nesty lately, dropping hints left and right.
“Yeah. Looks like it will be a big deal. Lots of exhibitors.”
“This centennial sure has made a lot of people busy. The rodeo, the baseball game, the fair.” She sighed and her smile grew wistful. “The Old Tyme wedding next month.”
She angled her head and Brody knew his mother’s mental train had merely taken a short side trip and was back on track.
“Maybe you could participate.” Her tone was teasing, but Brody sensed the hope behind it.
For some reason, his mind immediately went to Hannah, imagining her as a bride.
Really?
