Chapter Ten
Margo sat quietly for the rest of the drive to the ranch.
“We’ve arrived,” Hawkeye said about ten minutes later.
A metal sign reading Creed's Creek Ranch hung above the entrance. She found herself in a place where she didn’t know anyone or anything. Hawkeye wouldn’t have brought her to his home or introduced her to his friends if he intended any harm, and that gave her a small measure of comfort.
Yet she couldn’t let her guard down too fast.
He announced in a pleased tone, “It’s good to be home.”
“How long were you gone?” She sensed hesitation in him.
“Just a few days,” he answered.
Buildings came into view as they turned onto the gravel lane. The barns all looked new, from large structures to smaller ones. Once they reached a dog leg curve in the road, she saw a white metal structure with a green steepled roof.
“There’s the bunkhouse.” A row of trucks was parked outside of the structure.
A tractor ambled through a field, kicking up a cloud of dust from mowing the grass. A group of cowboys on horses were riding in the distance in a pasture of cattle.
On one side of a white wooden fence beautiful horses grazed. It was obvious they were well taken care of from their appearance. In an area sectioned off with a fence a hatless cowboy had a horse on a lead. “What’s he doing?”
“That’s Sin. He trains horses.”
Margo blinked. “Is Sin the name of the horse or the man?”
Hawkeye laughed. “The man.”
Up ahead were black cows that had shiny coats. They lifted their heads in curiosity as the truck eased by.
Goats gathered at a gate bleating to get attention.
Margo had never been on a working ranch before, and it seemed wherever she targeted her gaze she saw something happening that made her curious.
As they continued to drive on the narrow lane, she stretched her gaze over the fields dotted with wildflowers and enclosures. Chickens pecked at the ground and didn’t pay any attention to the intrusive truck invading the space near their coop.
Further along they passed a farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a wood sign leaning near the door that read, “Welcome”. An elderly cowboy with a slanted hat occupied one of the rockers and he threw up a hand as they drove past. She waved back.
“That’s Bradley Creed. Sharp’s father,” Hawkeye said.
Another bend took them to a row of cottages.
Hawkeye parked in front of the first cottage—a humble, rugged dwelling laying low against the backdrop of thick woods.
A wide covered porch with timber posts supported the tin roof.
A wicker rocker invited guests to stay for a bit and reap the rewards of the view.
Stacked river stone provided a barrier between the small stretch of grass and road.
Small windows were surrounded by distressed shutters.
“The houses were built with reclaimed wood from the old barns we had to tear down,” he said. He cut the engine and looked over at her, and she didn’t look back.
She knew he watched for her reaction.
Sliding out, she felt a mixture of excitement and dread as she stepped onto the porch, waiting for him to produce a key to open the door.
“It’s unlocked,” he told her.
The door gave a low menacing creak as she pushed it and stepped inside. Although sparsely decorated, the place had a comforting air. From her spot at the front door, she could see across the open floor plan.
To her left a white-washed stone fireplace dominated one wall.
A basket of firewood sat on the hearth. A plush oversized chair covered in beige linen looked like it had been sat in by generations of behinds.
To the right there was a kitchenette with a round, scarred and imperfect table and two shaker-style chairs.
Open shelving displayed collections of mismatched stoneware.
A pot and pan hung from hooks on the wall.
At the back of the room near a window, she saw a bed covered in a patchwork quilt.
She guessed the bathroom was behind the only door in the place.
At least she hoped there was a bathroom.
The wide plank wooden floor creaked under her footsteps, the parts that weren’t covered by hand woven rugs. Despite the cottage being small, it was sturdy, and the scent of wood and pine hung in the air.
The light flicked on, and she looked over her shoulder at Hawkeye who watched her from where he leaned against the doorframe, his thumbs hooked in his front pockets.
“It does have electricity. Probably not what you’re used to, but what more could a person ask for?” he said easily.
She stood there, unsure of what came next.
“You okay? Need anything?” he asked. “Within reason, of course.” He smiled and it almost brightened his eyes. He’d lost the tense lines around his eyes and mouth.
“I can’t say that I’m okay, but I’m here and I’ll need to make the best of it.”
“The nights are starting to cool. Do you know how to start a fire?”
“I think I can manage.”
“Matches are on the mantle. Kindling is in the basket. There’s a stack of wood outside.
I need to go speak to the men and settle in.
” He readjusted his hat before smashing it lower on his head.
“Make yourself at home. There’s plenty of hot water and the kitchen should be stocked.
Every evening dinner is served at six sharp over at the cookhouse.
” He checked his watch. “Too late tonight. Follow the worn path toward the main house and you can’t miss it.
There’s always something being cooked in the smoker. ”
“When do I meet the other hands? Am I going to meet the entire crew all at once? CaDee and Sharp too?” Why did she feel a sense of dread settle into her belly?
“Don’t worry. None of them bite, at least not too hard.” He pushed off the doorframe. “I better run. I have a list of chores tonight.”
“Does the ranch always have this much activity this late in the evening?”
“Sunup to sundown. See you later.” He touched the brim of his hat and pushed through the screen door. She could hear the thumping of his boots on the porch and then the faint rustling of grass underfoot, until everything faded into an uncomfortable silence.
She would never have asked him to stay or ask that she go with him, wherever that was. It was ridiculous that she’d formed an attachment to him already.
She peeked outside when she heard the truck’s engine rev.
He threw up his hand before he drove off into a cloud of dust. Beyond the road she saw a group of deer that lazily munched at the grass.
Even further she could see a cowboy on a horse, situated outside a pack of cattle as if he watched their behavior.
He looked about as tall and muscular as Hawkeye.
Closing the door, she slipped off her shoes and stood in the center of the room, a soft hand-woven rug under her feet.
She just stood there for the longest time, unsure what to do.
She didn’t have a phone to call anyone. There was no TV to watch, not that she ever watched much anyway.
No laptop to write. And as good as a shower sounded she didn’t have any clothes to put on after.
The idea of putting on the same dirty clothing made her stomach roll.
She stepped into the kitchen and opened one cabinet after another, familiarizing herself with the contents.
Sitting on the windowsill was an old beat-up radio.
She doubted it would work, but she could use some noise.
Pushing the “power” button, and with a twist of the tuner button and a tweak of the antenna, she managed to find a country station.
She turned up the volume a notch, listening to Reba McIntyre belt out a popular song from the eighties.
The sun was setting. Tears welled up and she blinked them away, feeling unsettled instead of relaxed. She didn’t want to feel ungrateful for finding a place of respite, but she also couldn’t forget how terrible the day had been. Someone she knew died right in front of her.
One song led into another and another. She stared outside while allowing the tears to flow.
A soft knock came on the door, pulling her from her thoughts. Could it be Hawkeye?
Wiping the wetness from her cheeks, she opened the door, and it wasn’t the tall, brooding cowboy standing on the step.
Margo met the gaze of a beautiful brunette who had a welcoming smile. The sundress she wore showed off her baby bump.
“Hi! I’m CaDee Creed.” Her lovely eyes changed into a soft pastel color.
“Hi, I'm Margo,” she said quietly.
“Nice to see you, cousin.” CaDee winked. “I’ve been briefed on our little secret.” She wagged her brows.
“I’m sorry,” Margo said out of habit.
“Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got your back. I hear you’re in a bit of pickle.”
“A pickle?” What had Hawkeye told her, and what did he keep private?
CaDee bent and grabbed a large basket overflowing with things from the porch.
“Here. Let me take that for you.” Margo grabbed the basket. It wasn’t heavy but it was awkward. She set it on the table, skimming her gaze over the contents.
“I included things I can no longer wear, because as you see, I’m expanding. I hope it’s okay?”
“Thank you. I appreciate it so much. I came here…unexpectedly.”
CaDee leaned in as if she wanted to divulge dark secrets.
“When I came here, I was in for a big surprise. I learned right away that the women of Fin’s Creek look out for one another.
We pay it forward. I think you’ll find some things in the basket that you can wear.
If not, we’ll find you something else. I want you to feel at home.
It can be a bit overwhelming at first, but after you settle in, I’m sure you’ll see we’re all down to earth. ”
Settle in? That made it sound permanent. That couldn’t happen. She had a life back in the city.
“Thank you, again,” Margo said. “The basket is very thoughtful. I’m dying to take a shower.”
“I won’t keep you then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate. I’m always flitting around the ranch, at least when I’m not at home resting because she loves kicking my ribs like she’s already practicing being a soccer player. Every morning I’m out milking goats. They’ve become pets.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine and don’t want to bother anyone.”
There was that flick of CaDee’s wrist as if to shoo away the thought.
“No bother at all. Like I said, we take care of each other here. Oh mercy, I almost forgot I brought you fresh eggs and milk.” She grabbed another smaller basket brimming with brown eggs, milk, and a loaf of bread. “I’ll stick these on the counter.”
Margo wasn’t sure if CaDee knew how much this meant. Growing up, the neighbors never came over to say hello or to borrow sugar. She grew up thinking that neighbors didn’t socialize. “Would you like to sit for a moment?”
“Sure. Why not? I can spare a few minutes. Carter is with Rena, the ranch cook. She’s an amazing cook and if you let her know what your favorite dessert is she’ll make sure you have it.”
Margo found two glasses and poured water from the pitcher in the fridge, carrying them to the table where CaDee was sitting and restacking the metal holder of napkins.
Margo sat down. “The ranch looks beautiful. And this cottage, very homey.”
“We have a little piece of heaven right here on this side of Texas. We built the cottages as overflow for wedding guests. Sharp—my husband—and I have been renovating the Loveland Farmhouse hoping to get it finished before the baby arrives. Where have the last six months gone? Sorry. Here I am rambling. I tend to do that at times. Since Ursula and I have been planning to open the wedding venue—The Old Oak Barn—I swear I’m like a steam engine. There’s a name for it. Nesting.”
Margo found the woman to be refreshing. “This is a perfect location for a venue.”
“After Piper passed away and left me her farm, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it.
” Her gaze wandered off. “You don’t know Piper.
She was kind enough to let me come work for her when my son and I needed a safe harbor to land.
She and I became close. She was more like an aunt.
Unfortunately, she was sick and passed away too soon.
” She sniffed and lifted her chin as if to push out the sad thoughts.
“I wanted to do something wonderful with the place besides a working farm, because, after all, Sharp is busy getting the ranch back to all its glory which hasn’t been all roses and unicorns.
Anyway, that’s a different story.” She drew in a long breath.
“No one tells you that you lose your breath when you’re pregnant.
If there’s anything I can help with just let me know. ”
“I can’t think of anything right off the cuff.”
“Hawkeye will be right by your side.”
“I guess …is Hawkeye…well, is he always so…” She allowed her voice to drift off.
“Gruff? Direct?” She laughed. “Yes, and no. You’ll see that the hands here can be focused when they have something brewing inside their minds.
They’ve been working hard to get things up and running.
Yet, just between us…” she lowered her voice “they’re all bears with big hearts.
” As if she just remembered how late it was, she jumped up from the chair.
“I better get back. I have to get Carsen ready for bed.”
Alone, Margo sifted through the basket of goodies. Inside she found clothes that would fit perfectly, a pair of boots, and even tennis shoes.
Grabbing a shirt and then a pair of cut-off shorts, Margo took them to the bathroom, grateful to see that there were bottles of shampoo, conditioner, soap, and fresh towels in the cabinet.
Standing under the water, she swore it was the best shower she’d ever had in her life. She stayed in until the water turned cold and she’d scrubbed every inch of her body twice.
Drying, she didn’t bother dressing.
Crawling onto the bed, she covered herself in a blanket and closed her eyes.