Chapter 8
THE DINING TABLE at the Olsens’ ranch house held up just fine under the weight of a hearty, home-cooked dinner.
Mason and Taylor had outdone themselves, presenting a feast of herb-crusted roast beef, its savory gravy mingling with the creamy richness of garlic mashed potatoes.
Beside it, a hearty cobb salad brimming with fresh lettuce, diced tomatoes, and blue cheese crumbles added a touch of crispness.
Tender green beans with slivered almonds and a medley of caramelized root vegetables complemented the feast, while spicy cornbread muffins, slathered with honey butter, provided a comforting warmth.
There was a warm apple crisp cooling on the counter for dessert.
The kitchen smelled like a slice of heaven, if heaven boasted a mix of roasted garlic, buttery goodness, and sweet cinnamon.
“Everyone dig in,” Mason announced, holding a carving knife like a prized trophy. Taylor followed with a jug of iced tea and a triumphant grin.
“I don’t mean to brag,” Taylor said as she poured drinks, “but Mason’s mashed potatoes might be the eighth wonder of the world.”
Mason chuckled. “And Taylor’s cornbread? I swear she’s trying to fatten us all up.”
Laughter rippled around the table as everyone filled their plates. Naomi, seated between Sophie and Trent, found herself marveling at the easy camaraderie among the group.
“Where’s Colton tonight?” Naomi asked, reaching for the green beans.
“On a date,” Sophie replied with a sparkle in her eyes. “With Samantha, our granddaughter. I have high hopes for those two.”
“High hopes,” Holger muttered around a forkful of meat. “What I have is high blood pressure waiting to see if that boy will stop beating around the bush and propose already. Sheesh, we’ll be in the old folks’ home that Sammy works at before he makes a move.”
Wyatt chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think he’s ready for Samantha to boss him around officially.”
Sophie pointed her fork at Wyatt with mock sternness. “And what about you, Wyatt? When’s Mia coming by?”
Wyatt leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Soon. She’s been busy working with clients, but she said she’d swing by later this week. Maybe she can hypnotize Colton into proposing.”
That earned another round of laughter, though Trent’s focus shifted to Naomi.
“Where’s Ruby?” he asked quietly.
“Laundry room,” Naomi said, her voice softening. “Curled up on my coat like she owns it. I fed her some of the food the vet gave me and told her to stay put. So far she’s very obedient.”
“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a good companion,” Trent said, his brown eyes roving shyly across her face.
Holger wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward. “Naomi, I’ve been meaning to ask—what’s your take on Trent’s suggestion about the rotational grazing patterns? He’s been digging into those books pretty deep.”
Naomi glanced at Trent, whose eyes darted back to his plate. “It’s a solid idea. Rotational grazing could help restore the soil and improve yields over time. I’m impressed, actually.”
Trent smirked. “Just trying to keep up with the experts.”
“I think you’re more of an expert than you let on,” Naomi said, surprising him with the compliment.
“You two need to team up,” Sophie chimed in. “I can see it now—Naomi and Trent, the dynamic duo of sustainable farming.”
Naomi’s cheeks burned, but Trent’s easy laugh set her at ease. “I don’t know about dynamic,” he said, “but I wouldn’t mind learning more from Naomi.”
Naomi smiled and took another bite. The conversation switched to another subject and she enjoyed and marveled at the easy fellowship in the room. It was a stark contrast to her usual solitary dinners on the road. She glanced at Trent again, who was watching her with a curious expression.
“What?” she asked, self-conscious.
“You fit in here better than I thought you would,” he said, his tone low enough that the others didn’t hear.
Naomi blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Trent shrugged, his smile turning playful. “You’ve got a way about you. Like you belong … anywhere and everywhere.”
Naomi opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Mason standing abruptly and pointing at Taylor.
“Taylor, come on, it’s time to serve up the dessert,” he declared, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the kitchen.
“You’re impossible!” Taylor laughed, but she didn’t resist.
As the two disappeared, Sophie shook her head with a fond smile. “Those two are as sweet as the dessert they’re about to bring out.”
As the conversation flowed around them, Mason served the apple crisp with scoops of vanilla ice cream, and the clatter of forks and spoons filled the room.
Holger leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink. “You know, Naomi, we’ve had a few consultants over the years, but you’re the one who’s given me the best advice.”
“Thank you.”
“And you certainly fit in with this crazy mix of guys,” Wyatt said. “Especially that one.” He gave a nod toward Trent.
Naomi laughed to cover up her feelings. Nevertheless, she was surprisingly at home among them. She caught Trent’s gaze and for a moment the rest of the noise faded into the background.
“I told you that you fit in,” Trent said softly, his shoulder touching hers.
Naomi’s heart fluttered. “Maybe,” she replied. “But I can’t stay forever.”
Trent’s expression held a hint of something she couldn’t quite read. “That’s a shame.”
***
Trent figured it wouldn’t be out of place to walk Naomi—and her dog—out to her car after dinner. After all, he had to walk to the barn to get to his room.
“Early to bed, early to rise,” he said as they went down the porch steps.
“How early?” Naomi grabbed his elbow to balance on a slippery step. “Oops.” She dropped Ruby’s leash, but the pup didn’t run off.
“Careful. I got you.” He steadied her. “Early as in four or four fifteen.”
She looked up sharply and let go of his arm. “No way. Every day?”
“Even Sundays.”
“Wow. But why so early?” She retrieved the leash.
“The cows need milking twice a day.”
Naomi frowned. “So why not seven or eight a.m. and eight p.m.?”
Trent unconsciously shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s the way farmers do it. Mr. Olsen. My dad.”
“Oh, you grew up on a farm?”
“Yeah,” Trent said, his voice softening as they walked toward her car. “Out in Oklahoma. Not as big as this place, but we had cattle, some horses, dairy cows, chickens, and a whole lot of hay fields. My dad was old school, like Holger.”
Naomi smiled at the wistful note in his voice. “Sounds like you’ve got some good memories.”
“Some,” Trent admitted. “But it wasn’t always easy. My dad was tough, not a whole lot of room for mistakes. You learned fast or … you didn’t.”
Her brow furrowed. “That sounds intense.”
“Nah, not really.” He glanced at her, his expression enigmatic. “But I guess it made me who I am. What about you? Did you grow up around all this?” He gestured to the open land, the barn faintly lit beyond her SUV.
“Nope,” Naomi said, shaking her head. “I’m a city girl. Portland, Oregon, born and raised. But then my parents bought a hobby farm just outside the city. Horses, chickens, a huge garden. I loved being out there more than I liked being in town.”
“Is that where you learned to ride?”
“Yeah. My mom taught me.” Her smile turned a bit wistful. “She loved horses. She always said there was something magical about them—how they trust you completely when you take care of them.”
“She’s right about that.” Trent’s voice had a note of respect in it. “Sounds like she was a good teacher.”
“She was,” Naomi said softly. “She passed away a few years ago, though.”
“I’m sorry,” Trent said after a pause, his voice sincere. “That must’ve been hard.”
“It was.” Naomi stopped walking and looked up at the stars, bright and clear in the cold night sky. “But being out here, working with the Olsens, it kind of reminds me of her. Like I’m honoring her in a way.”
Trent studied her for a moment, then nodded. “I get that. There’s something about this place … it’s good for the soul.”
They reached her car, and Naomi turned to face him. “You seem pretty grounded, Trent. You’ve been through a lot, though, haven’t you? Mrs. Olsen said something about you being pretty mobile, work-wise.”
He tilted his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Is this your way of saying I look old?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No, not at all. I just mean … you’ve got this calm about you. Like you’ve figured things out.”
Trent chuckled and bent to tussle Ruby’s ears. “Figured things out? Yeah, I think I have. But I still try to take things one day at a time.”
Naomi looked at him and the dog. “That’s pretty much how I live, too. One day in Montana, one day in Wyoming. I never know where I’ll be next.”
“So home base is Oregon?”
“No, not anymore. I don’t really have a home anymore. I crash in Wyoming. Stay with my brother. He and my dad moved there after Mom passed.”
“I worked a cattle ranch in Wyoming. Ever hear of the Silver Spur?”
“Oh my gosh, yes. It’s close to my brother’s place.”
“I’m thinking of going back there in the spring … if they don’t need me here. Farming is starting to grow on me.”
She looked up at him. “There’s a small ranch for sale just south of the Silver Spur. It’s pretty run down, but it would be perfect for someone who … well, I think I could turn it into a living and then I could put all my knowledge into my own backyard and not have to travel around … at all.”
“Sounds nice. Let me know if you need a cowboy on that ranch. I like Wyoming.”
For a moment, they stood in companionable silence, the crisp night air wrapping around them. Ruby wagged her tail and nuzzled Naomi’s leg, breaking the moment with a short bark.
Naomi crouched to pet the dog, her smile widening. “Guess Ruby’s ready to say goodnight.”
Trent knelt beside her, scratching Ruby behind the ears. “She’s got good taste in people.”
Naomi glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat at the warmth in his eyes. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” Trent said, his voice low. “I do.”
They stayed like that for a moment longer, close enough that Naomi could feel the warmth radiating from him in the chilly air. Finally, she stood, her cheeks bright pink—not just from the cold.
“Well, I’d better get going,” she said. She opened the car door and encouraged Ruby to jump in. “Four a.m. comes early.”
“Sure does,” Trent said, stepping back but holding her gaze. “Drive safe, Naomi.”
“Thanks. See you tomorrow.” She slid into the driver’s seat, Ruby settling in the foot space on the passenger side. As she started the engine, she glanced back at Trent, who was still standing there, his hands in his pockets, watching her with quiet intensity.