Chapter Three
“Morning, Mooooom.” Carson stopped in his tracks as Alice slowly made her way from the stove to the table. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing a long soak in a very hot tub won’t solve.
” She’d hoped she’d be done with preparing breakfast before anyone came downstairs.
The moment she’d returned to the house, she’d stripped out of her very muddy clothes, hopped into the longest hot shower she dared take and still get breakfast on the table, and then with every move she made, the aches in her sore muscles seemed to escalate exponentially.
She hurt in places she’d forgotten she had muscles.
“Beg your pardon?” Carson stood, rooted to the floor, staring at his mother.
On a heavy sigh, she set the platter of bacon down in the middle of the table and slowly turned to face him.
“I had a little work out thanks to the new calf. It escaped the barn and Clint and I did a little Three Stooges routine trying to catch him. If we keep that calf, its name will be Houdini. Best escape artist I’ve ever seen. ”
To her surprise, rather than be upset, or all protective, Carson bit back a laugh.
“What is so funny?”
Shaking his head and taking a seat, he raised his open palmed hand to his mother. “Sorry. But honestly, I’d have paid big bucks to see that. How’s Clint doing?”
“Fine, I’m sure.”
Giggling as they came down the stairs, Jess and Cassie entered the kitchen.
“Morning.” Jess made a beeline for the coffee pot, barely slowing to brush her hand across her husband’s back before arriving at her destination.
Standing by the table, Cassie sniffed the air like a bloodhound on the hunt. “This kitchen always smells so amazing first thing in the morning.”
“Everything’s ready.” Alice bit down hard on her back teeth as she stretched to reach for the plates in the cabinet. Her shoulder protested the movement with a sharp twinge.
“Mom’s had quite the morning already.” Carson jumped up from his seat at the table, grabbing the stack of dishes for his mom. “You sit, we’ve got this.”
“If I sit, I’ll just hurt more.”
“Hurt?” Jess spun around from the sink.
Cassie froze by the tea kettle. “You’re hurt?”
“Apparently,” Carson set the plates down on the table, “she and Clint were wrangling an escape artist calf.”
“Is that a thing?” Cassie looked thoroughly confused.
“No, dear.” Alice couldn’t help but smile. She really loved that each of her children had found perfect-for-them spouses. Cassie fit in perfectly with ranch life, but the poor kid still had a lot to learn. “Most calves stick close to mama.”
“When did this happen?” Jess’s eyebrows shot up as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“This morning.” Not wanting to stiffen up by sitting still, she reached into the fridge and pulled out the juice she’d squeezed the night before.
“Morning.” Jess looked up at the clock. “It’s only six thirty now. What the hell were you doing out there before the crack of dawn, but more importantly, what possessed you to chase after cows?”
“Not cows, one cow and it was a calf. Who knew it had better moves than Mohammed Ali?” This was the reaction she would have expected from her sons, not the women in the family.
Carson shrugged, the smile still tugging at his cheeks. “That certainly would explain why you look like you went ten rounds.”
“I do not.” She might be a little stiff but there wasn’t a single bruise on her. At least not visible to her family.
The back door opened, a thin ribbon of morning air slipping inside.
Clint stepped in, hat in hand. He paused at the threshold.
He looked every bit as stiff and sore as she felt, though he was making a valiant effort to hide it.
His movements were measured, careful, betraying the strain in his muscles.
“Morning.” He nodded to the table at large. “Mrs. Sweet, I found how that calf got out.”
“Good.” She pulled another mug out from the cupboard. “How’d the little devil do it?”
“Loose board on the back of the stall. Mama was too big to fit through, but the little one slipped right out.”
One of the many reasons her husband had gone so deep in debt to handle an overload of deferred maintenance.
“I fixed it up for now. Will get some lumber from town later today and do the job right.”
“I can help.” Carson looked up from his breakfast.
Clint rotated the hat in his hands. “It’s really not a two-man job.”
“If you’re sure?” Carson asked.
“Completely.” Clint nodded.
Alice handed him the mug and slowly moved to the table herself, trying her best not to look like a decrepit old woman. “Might as well join us. If anyone deserves a hearty breakfast this morning, it’s you.” Slower than she would have liked, she gingerly descended into her seat.
“No, thank you. I’ve got chores to do before I head into town.”
She should probably insist he take the day off, but she knew better than anyone that ranches didn’t take a holiday because the folks working it had an ache or pain.
She was, however, still the official owner of this ranch and she was perfectly willing to throw her weight around. “Who’s the boss here?”
His brows buckled and confusion made itself at home in his eyes. “Uh, you are, ma’am.”
“We agree on that.” She tipped her chin at the empty chair near the heat. “Sit.”
For a few seconds, Clint considered refusing again, but good sense kicked in.
No point in ticking off the best employer he ever had.
Taking a moment to hang his hat on the hook by the door, he crossed to the table and lowered himself into the chair with the careful movements of a man trying not to show pain.
Carson reached for his own cup of coffee. “Sounds like you two had quite the adventure this morning.”
“Definitely not business as usual.” Clint accepted the plate Cassie passed him with a nod of thanks.
“Mom said y’all were doing a Three Stooges routine.” Carson grinned.
“Your mother’s being generous. I’d say it was more like the Keystone Cops.”
“I have to admit,” Jessie took a seat by her husband, “I wish I could have been there to see it.”
“Me too,” Cassie added. “Too bad we don’t have surveillance cameras around here.”
Alice Sweet rolled her eyes. “Thank God for small favors.”
Her children snickered, and spent the next few minutes gently teasing the family matriarch.
“Just remember,” Alice waved a finger at her son, “I’m not the only Sweet family member to slip in the mud while chasing a calf,” her gaze narrowed at her son, “or a mutton.”
As if told this would be his last meal, Carson swallowed hard and shoveled the rest of his breakfast down at lightning speed.
A satisfied smirk, not a smile, a full-blown smirk, made itself at home on Alice Sweet’s face.
Clint was going to have to remember to ask her one day, what was the story with Carson and the mutton, since it was pretty obvious to any fool that he did not want his mother sharing that little episode in his life with everyone at the table.
Probably, most especially, his new wife.
By the time the morning conversations had come to an end and the family were gathering their plates and standing, Clint realized he’d scarfed down not one but two plates of the best breakfast he’d had in a very long time. Pushing to his feet, he gathered his plate and empty juice glass.
“I’ll take that.” Already on her feet, Alice took his dirty dishes. “Give me two minutes to change my shoes and we’ll head to town.”
“Town?”
Dishes in her hand, she looked up at him, her brows arching high on her forehead. “Where else are we going to buy lumber?”
“It’s only a few boards. I can do that on my own. I was planning a trip to town today anyhow to pick up a new auger bit. We seem to be breaking through those at a faster than ever speed lately.”
The way Alice Sweet studied him, he wished he could read minds. He didn’t have a clue if he’d said something wrong or if she was merely mentally putting together her next grocery list. Another moment and she shook her head. “Have you always been this difficult?”
He knew his eyes must have popped wide as a saucer.
“First I have to practically threaten you to sit down and eat, and now I’m not allowed to go into town to buy my own supplies.”
If it were at all possible for his eyes to grow any rounder or perhaps even fall out of his head, they probably would. What had he done? “Uh, I, uh…”
In that split second, a wide smile spread across her face as she continued shaking her head. “As much as I’d love to soak in a hot tub for a week or two, I have things to pick up in town as well, so lose the startled owl look and let’s get going.”
“Yes, ma’am.” There was no way he was putting up a fuss.
If she wanted to go to town, the lady was going with him to town.
Not till he heard her chuckling as she walked to the back door to change out of her boots, did he fully relax.
The last thing he needed was to lose this job. Not with his record.
Clint shifted the truck into drive when the sound hit—high-pitched whine that morphed into a grinding squeal. Not good.
From the passenger seat, he heard Alice wince. “That doesn’t sound healthy.”
“No, ma’am.” He shifted back to park, cut the engine. “I’d better take a look.”
By a heartbeat, Alice beat him to the front of the truck.
On her tippy toes, with the practiced ease of someone who had done this before, she was under the hood, scanning for the source of the horrid sound.
Her hand moving from one spot to the other, he got the distinct impression that this woman had been under more metal than most men.
She made a strangled sound that sounded an awful lot like a growl.
“These blasted electronic engines. Give me the old days when all you needed to keep a truck running was a wrench and some baling wire.”
Clint couldn’t help but smile at that. “Simpler times.”
She eased back onto her heels and brushed her hands free of engine grime. “Got any ideas?”
He leaned in closer, listening to the faint tick of cooling metal.
“Could be the serpentine belt. Or maybe the alternator.” He reached in, fingers tracing the path of the serpentine belt.
“My money’s on this being the problem. Belt’s cracked, starting to fray.
Probably slipping on the pulley.” He slammed the hood shut.
“We’d better take another vehicle. I’ll pick up a new belt.
Fix it after I get to the boards in the barn. ”
“Okay.”
He felt more than saw her gaze on him as he cut the engine and retrieved the keys.
She fell into step beside him as they made their way to the other ranch truck. Hurrying to match his stride, she glanced up at him. “You seem to know an awful lot about an awful lot.”
“My mother would say, just enough to get myself into trouble.”
“Did you get into a lot of trouble?” Her question was genuine, but her tone was teasing.
He didn’t have to look at her to know those deep blue eyes would be sparkling with humor. “Usual stuff.”
“Who taught you to fix cars?”
“That would be my dad.”
“And the carpentry?”
“Dad’s Brother.” He opened the driver’s side door and pulled the keys out from under the mat.
Before he could consider opening the door for her, she was already climbing into the passenger seat.
“Grandpa was an electrician. Growing up, I learned pretty much everything I’d need to know to fix or build a house—or a ranch. ”
Buckling her seat belt, she leaned against the door. “So how’d you wind up in ranching?”
“That would be Mom’s roots. I’d spend every summer at my grandparents’ ranch in Wyoming. I guess I loved cows and horses more than hammers and wrenches. According to my mother, I learned to ride before I could walk.” The memory was bittersweet. “They died when I was a teenager. Mom sold the ranch.”
Lips pressed tightly together, Alice nodded. “That must have been hard on your mom.”
“Yes and no. She loved the ranch as much as I did, but she loved Dad more. They were super tight. They…fit. Balanced each other.”
That made Alice smile. He liked seeing her smile. It was a nice smile. “Are they still in Wyoming?”
His chest felt suddenly tight. “My parents passed away not long after I went to—” He caught himself, suddenly aware of how close he’d come to revealing too much.
“After I left home. Doctor said it was natural causes, that it was more common than you’d think for one partner to go shortly after the other.
Especially when they were as close as my parents were. ”
“I’m sorry.” Sympathy, not pity, shone in her eyes.
He had to wonder, would she look at him the same way if she knew what he knew? The only cause for his parents’ death was a broken heart. He’d broken their heart.