Chapter 17
If Trent had been thinking straight, he would have suggested a different setup for meeting Brittany’s mom. She could have come out to the ranch with her daughter tonight.
That would have served a dual purpose. The meeting wouldn’t be taking place in public and they’d have a chaperone. The way he was feeling every time he thought of Brittany, they’d need one.
But an alternate plan didn’t occur to him until he walked into the Buffalo a couple of minutes past noon. Maybe he hadn’t thought of it because if he was totally honest with himself, he didn’t want a chaperone tonight.
On the other hand, a private meeting with Margaret Powers would have been way better than this very public venue. The minute he came through the door he caught sight of Desiree and Andy having lunch.
Desiree looked up and waved. He waved back as he walked past the wooden mascot. Its greeting for the entire week was Haaaapy Muuuther’s Daaay.
He’d heard it quite a bit on Tuesday night before Brittany arrived and he’d learned to tune it out. Now those words evoked the passion-drenched episode that had ended at seven-twenty-four a.m., when everything changed.
He wasn’t the same man who’d left the Buffalo last night. Was it written on his face? He hoped to hell it wasn’t, because courtesy demanded that he go over and say hello to the happy couple.
And they looked pretty darned pleased with themselves as they sat across from each other at a two-top munching on burgers and sipping frosted mugs of cider.
Desiree motioned him over. “We were just talking about the Apple Grove project. Lucky’s so excited about the grand opening of the bookstore next month.”
“He should be. The demographics look good. With the Buckskin Ranch and the Choosy Moose supporting it, the word will get out, especially when they’ll carry signed copies of M.R. Morrison’s books.”
Desiree nodded. “Those signed copies do well for us here, that’s for sure.”
“I just wish Morrison would agree to an in-person signing, but so far Lucky says the chances are slim to none.”
“Don’t give up hope.” Andy glanced across at Desiree. “It could happen.”
Desiree sighed. “Says the eternal optimist.”
“Oh, I think we’re making progress on that front,” Andy said. “Can I get you a chair so you can join us, son? I assume you’re here to grab some lunch.”
“I am, and thanks for the invitation, but I’m meeting a couple of people. I told them I’d come early and get us a table.”
“Then by all means do that. The place is filling up fast. We’ll see you Friday night for the ‘rehearsal’.” He made air quotes.
Desiree laughed. “Which we do not need after all the weddings we’ve helped organize lately, but whatever.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.” She smiled at him. “I’d tell you to bring a date, but Rance informed me that’s a non-starter.”
“That might be changing a bit.”
“Oh?” She brightened. “Then you might bring someone?”
“I might. See you then.” He headed back toward the bar to find Cecily and secure a table.
He was making this up as he went along, but he figured everyone would take the news better if he and Brittany started showing up together, even if they billed it as a just friends situation. Viewed that way, maybe this lunch with her mom was exactly the right move.
Cecily grinned as he walked toward her. “I was about to chase you down to ask if you need a table.”
“I do. For three people.”
“Anyone I know?” She picked up three menus from the stack on the bar.
“Yeah, me.”
“Smartass. Who’ll be joining you?”
“Brittany and her mom.”
She did a double-take. “Number one, everyone calls her Brit, FYI, and number two, why are you having lunch with her and Margaret? It’s none of my business, of course, but it’s a curious combination.”
“I agree. And I’m not going to tell you why I’m having lunch with them.”
“Fair enough. Do you want a table toward the back where it’s a little more private?”
“Yes, please.”
“Something’s afoot. I can smell it.”
“I knew this aftershave was too strong.”
“Your aftershave is just right. So’s the pale green shirt with the pearl buttons. Looks awesome on you. Are those new Wranglers?”
“Never mind.”
“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen that shirt, either. And your boots are polished. Are these your Sunday go-to-meetin’ clothes, Trent, darlin’?”
“Just show me to the table, please.”
“Yes, sir.” She winked at him. “Anything for you, Mr. Armstrong, sir.”
“And I thought Rance was a pain in the ass.”
“I taught Rance everything he knows about being a PITA.” She walked toward a table in the far corner near the windows. “Well, that’s not quite true. He picked up a lot from Beau before I got ahold of him. Does Rance know about this lunch?”
“No, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell him when he comes in this afternoon.”
“What’s it worth to ya?”
“Dammit, Cecily.”
“I’m just funnin’ ya, cowboy. I won’t tell Rance. But if you didn’t want anyone to know, you could’ve picked a better place than the Buffalo during the noon rush.”
“Not my choice, but you’re right.”
She gestured to the corner table. “This is as secluded as it gets. Want me to bring you a shot of whiskey to calm your nerves?”
“What makes you think they need calming?”
“Oh, I dunno. The fact that you snatched the menus out of my hand and laid them at each place, like that was your job. Which it so isn’t.”
He glanced at the table. Sure enough. And he hadn’t been aware of doing it. “The whiskey is a great idea but I don’t have time to get sufficiently toasted. They’ll be here any second.”
“I can’t wait to hear how this turns out.”
“Me, either. But you need to let Janice wait on us. This is her section.”
“All except this table.”
“Uh-huh.”
She patted his shoulder. “You need me here for backup in case things get hairy. I’ll fetch three waters.”
“Thanks.” After she left, he chose the chair in the corner so he’d see them coming. He’d no sooner settled into it than they walked through the door, Brittany leading the way, ponytail swinging, and Margaret right behind, scanning the room. She was slightly taller than her daughter and had the same trim, athletic figure.
Eventually her gaze settled on him and she leaned toward Brittany to say something. She glanced quickly in his direction and nodded. He stood as Cecily brought them to the table, her tray loaded with three water glasses.
When they got there, Brittany’s mom held out her hand. “Hello, Trent. I’m Margaret.” No smile, but no frown, either.
“Nice to meet you, Margaret. Brittany mentioned you’d want me to use your first name.”
Her brows arched. “Brittany? You call her that?”
“I know everybody calls her Brit, but I like the longer version.”
“So do I.” A faint gleam of approval flashed in her eyes, blue like her daughter’s.
Remembering his manners, he quickly pulled out each of their chairs as Cecily set down the water glasses.
“Hey, Cecily.” Margaret had a smile for her. “How’s that puppy doing?”
“Growing like a weed. Does everyone need a minute?”
“I don’t,” Margaret said. “I’ll have the Reuben, please. And coffee.”
“Make that two.” Brittany handed over her menu. “And decaf coffee for me, please.”
“Make it three.” Trent held out his menu. “And leaded for me. Thanks, Cecily.”
“Be back in a flash.” She gave him a glance of support and whisked away.
Margaret spread her napkin in her lap before glancing at him. “Brit told me you moonlight at the bar and by day you’re a marketing consultant.”
“That’s right.”
“And I hear you have a horse and pitch in doing ranch chores.”
He glanced over at Brittany. “Did I tell you about Gigabyte?”
“About what?”
“My horse. I don’t remember?—”
“You didn’t. That’s a clever name. Faye told me you had one and that you help out around the barn.”
Margaret looked over at him. “Busy guy. You must not have much free time.”
He met her gaze and kept his steady. “The bartending is optional. I don’t need the money, but I have fun doing it. I can give it up if time becomes an issue.”
“Which it always does when you’re the parent of a young child. Brit said you also believe there’s a baby on the way.”
“I do. I’m very happy about that.”
“I’m glad you are, because it’s a big responsibility.”
“Which I take seriously.”
“That’s good to hear, too.” She paused to take a sip of her water before turning back to him. Her expression softened. “How do you feel about my daughter?”
His breath hitched. Loaded question. “What do you mean?”
“Do you have an emotional attachment to her?”
“Of course. She’s our baby’s mother.”
“And what emotions does that connection inspire?”
“Gratitude, protectiveness, caring, admiration. I’m sure there are more if I have some time to think about it.”
She nodded. “That’s a list to warm a mother’s heart.” She hesitated, then looked him right in the eye. “What about passion?”
“Mom.”
His throat clogged and he had to clear it. “No worries. It’s a fair question, considering.” He had a hunch the subject had already come up during her discussion with Brittany. “Making a baby should be passionate, and it was.”
“Brit says you’ll just be friends from now on and you’ve agreed to that.”
“I have.”
She took a quick breath. “I’ve already said this to Brit. But do you think that’s realistic?”
“Three Reubens, coming up!”
He could have kissed Cecily. Well, not really. And it sure wouldn’t help his cause to plant one on their server.
Her timing was impeccable, though. She must have seen the look on his face, because instead of delivering the meal with her usual brisk efficiency, she took forever.
She made sure they all had condiments, utensils, more water, cream and sugar for the coffee, and a sugar substitute if anyone needed that. She even hung around to find out if the Reubens were satisfactory and the coffee was the right temperature for everyone.
He used the time to get his bearings. When Cecily finally walked away, he was ready. She was so getting a big tip.
He turned to Margaret. “This is an unusual situation and I’m only human. But we agreed to a plan and we’ll stick with the plan. We got together to have a baby, not to become lovers.”
“You’re right that it’s an unusual situation. Extremely unusual. And I have one more question.”
“Let’s have it.”
“What about love?”
Fortunately, he had an answer for that one. “You mean the happily-ever-after, romantic kind of love?”
“Yes.”
“I used to believe in that. I don’t anymore.”
“How can that be when your brother just got married? And last time I checked, all but one of the McLintock boys have found their soul mates.”
“It looks that way.”
“Even Desiree, who’s spent the past thirty-plus years avoiding a walk down the aisle, is getting married on Saturday. At Rowdy Ranch, you’re surrounded by evidence that true love exists.”
“I hope for their sake it does. But I’m not willing to take that gamble ever again.”
She sighed. “Well, your attitude toward love and marriage is why Brit chose you for this crazy escapade. Maybe she knows what she’s doing, after all.”
“I believe she does.”
Evidently Margaret had run out of zingers. Although she continued to fire off questions about his family, his job, and his child-rearing philosophy, none of them made his gut clench.
She had a right to question him. He’d be the father of her first grandchild, maybe her only grandchild, and she hadn’t known he existed until today.
In her shoes, he’d be doing the same thing. In fact, he might be in her shoes someday, interviewing a randy teenager who wanted to date his daughter.
He could put himself in that mythical teenager’s shoes, too. Whenever he looked at Brittany, flames licked at his privates. No doubt her mom had picked up on his ill-disguised obsession. Mothers were good at spotting that kind of behavior.
He could sit there insisting that this platonic friendship was going to work. His body didn’t believe a word of it. And neither did Brittany’s mother.