Maple Mountain (Saddles & Spurs #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

The Ranch

“How goes the penis embargo?” Salem asked.

I gestured to the bakery box from Sweet Teeth. “Please, not in front of the donuts.”

“It’s ten in the morning. Shouldn’t we wait for cocktail hour to discuss this?” Hadley inquired with her head buried in the open refrigerator.

“And what would cocktail hour look like now?” Poet asked, her freckled nose wrinkling.

“More like mocktail hour.” I shook my head. “What with the three of you growing humans from scratch. By the way, it’s no fun to drink alone.”

The four of us were in Hadley and Salem’s family’s guest cabin where Hadley, her new husband Declan, and their pygmy goat Tempest lived.

Said pygmy goat was currently on the couch with her belly to the ceiling.

Livin’ the dream.

“Do you miss sex?” Salem asked.

“You with the questions. So early in the morning. I’ve only had one cup of coffee,” I teased.

A snort came from underneath the coffee table and a moment later, Poet’s pet pig wiggled out from her nap spot.

“Brooks and I figured out that you can’t even say the word coffee around Lottie. And don’t leave your cups unattended,” Poet said, leaning over and stroking Lottie’s head. “She has a thing for heavily creamed coffee.”

To prove her point, Poet held out her mug of half-drunk coffee to Lottie, who all but shoved her snout into the mug.

“Rewarding bad behavior, I see,” I quipped.

“You try saying no to that face,” Poet said with a laugh.

“Fig’s going to get jealous,” Salem warned.

Sure enough, Salem’s beagle mix popped up from her spot in front of the lit wood stove and padded toward Poet. Fig bumped Lottie with her nose. Lottie immediately pulled her snout out of the mug, wagged her little pig tail, and then traipsed back underneath the coffee table.

Fig slurped the rest of Poet’s coffee.

“Aww, siblings who know how to share,” I said. “That’s nice.”

“You want a clean cup and a refill?” Hadley asked Poet.

Poet shook her head. “I’m good.”

“What are you doing over there?” I turned to look at Hadley who was still rooting around in the fridge.

“I can’t find what I’m looking for . . .” Hadley grumbled.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” Salem stated. “Sex. Do you miss it?”

“Damn, I thought the ranch beasts had distracted you enough to drop the subject,” I said.

“Nope.” Salem grinned. “Tell the class.”

I sighed. “No. I don’t miss it. And I don’t miss the lies men tell me just so I’ll let my guard down.”

I stroked Mildred’s back. The cream-colored long-haired dachshund was perfectly content to curl up in my lap.

“Without focusing my attention on men and dating,” I blathered on, “I’ve learned to appreciate other things in life. The finer things in life.”

Poet raised her brows. “Such as?”

“Um . . . Let me get back to you on that.”

“Ah ha! There you are!” Hadley pulled out a gallon of milk and a jar of olives and waddled over to the couch. She set them both down onto the scarred wood coffee table. “Should I put another log in the stove?”

Poet eagerly nodded while Salem shook her head, her red hair sliding off her shoulders. “I’m boiling.”

“I’m freezing,” Poet whined as she hunched lower in her cowl-neck green sweater.

“Switch places with me.” Salem rose from the chair that was closer to the wood stove.

Mildred let out a sigh of contentment which made me smile. She and I were tied at the proverbial hip. It was hard to know who was whose emotional support animal.

“How you doin’ there, champ? You’re looking a little droopy,” Salem said to me after she and Poet moved to their new seating arrangements.

“Did you get any sleep at all?” Hadley asked.

“A few hours,” I said. “But I couldn’t stretch out on those airport lounge seats. At some point, I moved to the floor by a window while I waited for the red eye. I’m just glad I was able to fly out.”

“You know what else isn’t fun?” Poet asked with a wry smile. “Having to be the one to come get you at the ass crack of dawn.”

“At least the roads were clear,” Hadley said as she finally got settled on the couch. “A few more weeks into winter and I doubt Brooks would’ve let you drive at all.”

“He’s already had snow tires put on my car.” Poet beamed. “Is it wrong that I love that he wants to put me in a safety bubble?”

The three of them giggled.

“All right, everyone dig in,” Hadley said.

She picked up a bear claw and plopped it onto a plate. She then unscrewed the jar of garlic stuffed olives and shoved a few into the Bavarian cream.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

She looked at me in confusion. “Eating?”

I pinched my nose. “That makes me want to vomit.”

“Don’t say vomit,” Poet said, hastily covering her mouth.

I pointed to the bear claw. “You’re not actually going to eat that . . .”

“Watch me,” Hadley said, her blue eyes sparkling in defiance. She took a huge bite and chewed for a moment. “Oh, that hit the spot. Try it.”

She held the bear claw out toward me.

“All set, thanks,” I snorted. “No wonder you went to the hospital for indigestion.”

“Hey, it got you on a plane, didn’t it?” Hadley winked. “Sorry for the scare, by the way.”

“I’m just glad you and the baby are okay,” I said.

Salem pointed to the bear claw. “I want to try it.”

Hadley set the bear claw onto the plate and gave it to her twin, who took a greedy bite.

Her hazel eyes widened.

“Horrible, right?” I asked.

“No. Not horrible,” Salem said with a shake of her head. “Can I finish this?”

Hadley nodded. “I’ll make myself another.”

Salem held out the plate to Poet who reached for it with grabby hands.

“I’m surrounded by lunatics.” I took a sour cream donut, gave a small piece to Mildred, and watched my three pregnant friends devour the weirdest combination of foods I’d ever seen.

“So, next time you want me to come for a visit,” I said. “You can just ask, you know? No need to be so dramatic, what with the health scare and all.”

“Me? Dramatic?” Hadley shook her head. “Never. Salem’s the dramatic one.”

“That’s usually true.” Salem turned her attention to me. “You’re pretty dramatic yourself, though. Did you tell them how you quit?”

“I told Poet when she picked me up,” I said. “I haven’t told Hadley yet.”

“Tell her now,” Salem said, feeding Tempest a tiny bit of the blueberry buttermilk donut. Fig lifted her head. Salem tossed her beagle mix a piece of donut.

“I was folding towels when Mr. Carrington came into the laundry room. He stripped out of his ski pants and just stood there in his boxers,” I said.

Hadley grimaced. “Uh oh.”

“Yep. And then he made a move on me. I smacked him in his crotch and while he was writhing around in pain, his wife came in. She wasn’t surprised, sadly.

Apparently, I’m not the first nanny he’s put the moves on.

She offered me severance and a reference if I kept my mouth shut about it.

I took Mildred instead. Packed my bag and got to the airport in record time. ”

“He sucks,” Salem said. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too!” Poet piped up.

“Well, that goes without saying,” Hadley said, a soft smile on her face. She placed a hand on her swollen belly and leaned back against the couch cushion. “You can help me figure out how the hell I’m supposed to fit baby furniture in here. I swear the cabin gets smaller the bigger I get.”

“How long until the house is done?” I asked.

“Early spring. I hope.”

Salem tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And then Cas and I can move in here. While our house is being built.”

“Musical nursery, huh?” I asked with a laugh.

“Exactly,” Salem agreed.

“I don’t know what you guys are complaining about,” Poet said. “My apartment is smaller than this cabin. And I share it with a pig and a really big cowboy.”

“You know we’re going to look back at this time in our lives with rose-colored glasses, right?” Hadley said.

Poet’s sigh was dreamy.

My three best friends were in love and having babies.

I’d never felt like more of an outsider.

Salem shot me a look. Her brows were raised as if she knew what I was thinking.

I cleared my throat. “So, what’s there to do here in winter?”

“Chocolate fondue at Sweet Teeth,” Hadley said. “You have to buy tickets for seating, which I already did. Ice skating, sledding, skiing, Christmas tree chopping . . .”

“Yeah?” I smiled. “You guys chop down your own Christmas trees?”

“Of course we do,” Salem said. “It’s a time-honored tradition at the Ridge.”

“I’m sad I can’t go ice skating or sledding,” Poet said with a slight frown.

“Next year,” Salem said. “We can all participate next year.”

They started gabbing about babies and all things family. I gently moved Mildred off me so I could clean up the remains of our breakfast. I closed the pastry box that somehow still had a few goodies left over.

I was at the sink rinsing the plates when there was a knock on the front door.

“You expecting anyone?” I asked Hadley.

She shook her head and attempted to stand.

“Stay,” I said. “I’ll answer it.”

“Bless you,” she said with relief.

I went to the heavy wooden door and opened it. A blonde woman who looked like she was in her late twenties stood on the porch. Her hands were shoved into her black coat pockets.

“Hi,” I said in confusion. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” She shuffled her feet. “My name is Nancy Pruitt. I’m looking for Archer Keel.”

“Archer Keel,” I repeated with a frown.

“Yeah,” she said. “Do you know him?”

“I know of him,” I clarified. With my hand on the door, I looked behind me at my friends who were all staring at the woman. “She’s looking for Archer.”

“Why?” Poet asked, rising from her chair and coming to the door.

Nancy’s face went carefully blank. “Because . . . It’s very important that I speak with him.”

A silver car idled at an angle in front of the cabin. The passenger side door opened and a young girl with dark hair wearing a gray wool sweater that was too big for her climbed out.

Nancy turned, her mouth pinching in annoyance. “I told you to wait in the car, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me kiddo. I’m not a kid. I’m eleven and a half.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “And I have to go to the bathroom.”

“You can use the bathroom in here,” I offered, looking behind me at Hadley who nodded in confirmation.

The girl closed the car door and trekked toward the porch. Her steps were heavy and slow, as if she was reluctant to come inside. Her hair was in two French braids that were coming undone, almost like she’d slept in them.

“You’re looking for Archer,” Poet murmured, her gaze bouncing from Nancy to the girl. Her brow furrowed.

“Yes,” Nancy said, pitching her voice low.

Poet nodded and grabbed her jacket that was hanging on a hook by the door. “I know where he is. I’ll take you to him.”

Hadley smiled at the girl in the oversized sweater. “Bathroom’s back through there.”

The girl looked in the direction Hadley pointed but didn’t move. She glanced at Nancy.

“You okay to wait here?” Nancy asked.

“Do I have a choice?” The girl’s tone was acerbic, her dark brows slashing together.

Without waiting for a reply, she rushed into the cabin toward the bathroom. She ducked into it and shut the door with a soft click.

“It’s getting cold in here,” Hadley said.

“Right,” Poet said. “Nancy? I’ll take you to Archer.”

She stepped out of the cabin and onto the porch. Poet’s wide eyes met mine as she closed the front door.

I looked at Salem who mouthed What the fuck?

What the fuck, indeed.