Chapter 14 #2
Trent finished the coffee and stood there in the kitchen awkwardly shifting the empty mug from one hand to the other, wondering what they might do for the next few hours as they waited for the rest of the world to wake up.
“Want some eggs? I can make you scrambled eggs.” Naomi set her mug down and retied the belt on her robe.
“Sure. Thanks. Or we could go out. There must be a 24-hour café around here.”
Naomi shook her head. “There’s not. This is a small town. You know Wyoming is the least populous state and therefore the demand for cafés is pretty low.”
“Huh. I guess I was lucky when I was working here. There was a nice little breakfast place at this four corners spot and—”
“Wait. I forgot. You worked at the Silver Spur Ranch, right?”
“Right. You said it was near your brother’s.”
“Yeah, near by Wyoming standards. It’s about fifty or sixty miles west of here.”
“So, too far for breakfast.”
“Unfortunately.” Naomi put a hand on a cupboard door. “Is the Silver Spur owned by a Hollywood multi-millionaire?”
“Yeah. But not an actor. I don’t even remember the guy’s name now. A producer, I think.”
“We’ve got more than a few Hollywood types buying up land here.
I consulted on one farm that was growing barley and another one where this famous actor wanted to improve his wheat output.
” She made a face that made it easy for Trent to read her mind.
“I thought they were foolish to dabble in something they didn’t know anything about. ”
Trent nodded. “That’s why I left the ranch I worked at and moved on. They wanted more of a dude ranch and I wanted to herd cattle, not city-slickers.”
Her cute laugh made him laugh along with her.
She opened the cupboard and got out a frying pan. “Well, tell me more while I cook up some … grub … cowboy.”
Trent chuckled as he leaned against the counter, watching Naomi crack eggs into a bowl with a practiced hand. She worked quickly but with a grace that caught his attention. He hadn’t thought much about cooking as an art, but watching her, he changed his mind.
“Well,” he began, “it wasn’t all bad. The place was beautiful—rolling hills, plenty of open space. But when the owner started showing up with his friends, all of them wearing shiny boots that had never touched a stirrup, I knew it wasn’t for me.”
Naomi laughed, her smile lighting up the room. “I can just picture it. Did they at least try to do any ranch work?”
“Some of them did,” Trent said with a smirk. “One guy lasted an hour before he decided the smell of manure wasn’t worth the Instagram photos. Another kept calling a steer a ‘bull’ no matter how many times I explained the difference.”
Naomi snorted, stirring the eggs in the pan. “I guess ranching isn’t for everyone.”
“Guess not,” Trent said, watching her flip the eggs with ease.
The scent of butter and eggs filled the air, making the cramped kitchen feel homey.
He didn’t want to think of Ethan sleeping down the hall; he hoped he wasn’t an early riser.
He wanted Naomi all to himself. Most of her long hair stayed out of her way, but one strand she’d tucked behind her ear kept falling forward as she scrambled the eggs.
He shifted his weight, suddenly aware of how long he’d been staring at her.
“So, after you left, you just drifted?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.
“Pretty much,” Trent admitted. “I moved around, taking jobs where I could find them. Worked on a few real ranches, but nothing felt like home until I got to Montana. Then my horse died.” He paused and judged her reaction.
He bit his lip. Shoot, she’d have him crying about it if he said anything else.
“I sold my horse trailer and I landed a job in construction.”
“Construction? You built houses?”
“A few, but there was that downturn, you know, and that job fizzled out. I,” he gulped, he might as well tell the whole truth, “I lived in my truck, got some odd jobs to pay for food and gas. Then I did some work at the community center in Clearwater until the Olsens took pity on me and took me in. I’ve been freeloading off them since Thanksgiving.
” He smiled. “Sophie and Holger—they make everyone feel like family.”
Naomi smiled softly. “I can see that. They’re good people.”
“They are,” Trent said, his voice quiet. “If I could, I’d build a place just like theirs. But with more animals. Cattle, horses, chickens, goats.”
Naomi paused, the spatula still in her hand, and turned to look at him. Her expression was thoughtful, and for a moment, Trent wondered if he’d said too much. But then she smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through clouds.
“So would I,” she said gently. “I have my eye on a place. Ethan thinks I’m crazy.” She chuckled as she plated his eggs. “Maybe I am.”
The vulnerability in her voice hit him harder than he expected, and he felt his heart thud in his chest. He loved how her green eyes sparkled when she smiled, and the way her laugh made him want to keep talking, keep making her smile.
“You’re not,” he said, his voice a little rough.
He cleared his throat, trying to focus on anything but the way she looked at him.
“You’ve got all that experience and knowledge from helping with other people’s farms. Settling down and getting your own place to run sounds like the perfect thing to do. ”
Naomi shrugged, turning back to the eggs and scooping a second helping onto her plate. “I like my job most days. Meeting new people, solving problems—it’s rewarding. But sometimes…” She hesitated, her voice trailing off.
“Sometimes what?” Trent asked, stepping closer.
She turned to face him, holding out a plate. “Too much traveling. Sometimes I’m pretty sure I’m missing out on something. Stability, maybe. Roots.”
Trent took the plate from her, their fingers brushing briefly. “I get that,” he said softly. “More than you know.”
For a moment, they stood there, an invisible connection between them thick in the air. Trent felt his pulse quicken. He looked away, focusing on the plate in his hands.
“Thanks for this,” he said, his voice steadier. “Smells amazing.”
Naomi smiled again, but there was something in her eyes—something that made his chest tighten. “You’re welcome, cowboy. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
As they sat at the small kitchen table, they kept their voices low and started to trade ideas on the perfect ranching plan.