Cutter Mountain Rendezvous (11 page)

“Who are you? A tobacco-chewing, crotch-scratching Martha Stewart?”

He grinned. “I’m just saying. It would look nice. Never cared much for chaw.”

“That’s a relief. Seems ballplayers scratch and spit every time the camera lands on them.”

“I thought you didn’t watch the game.”

“That’s why.” He laughed as she eyed the rockers. “What do I owe you for this bonanza?”

“My treat. For letting you think I was a carpenter.”

“No way.”

“Come on. Let’s sit and try them out.” Colton sat in a rocker next to Lindsay, who had already jockeyed one to face a small table to play with her horses. “Ah, perfect. Sit.”

Kate refused. She didn’t know how to handle the situation or how she would get Colton to let her pay. It wasn’t as if she didn’t think about making the porch pretty for her guests. Rockers were a low priority with all the other problems she’d faced getting the construction this far.

She put her hands on her hips. “I suppose everyone wants lemonade now?”

“I do,” Lindsay piped up.

“Me too. Worked up a thirst fixin’ that door.”

Kate grabbed the handle, and it stuck. It gave her an opportunity to smirk at Colton.

“It won’t do that by ten tomorrow.”

She laughed in spite of herself. Eight years of marriage hadn’t produced as much awareness to her thoughts or actions as Colton managed in the short time since his arrival. It was a good thing he would be gone soon. He had already made too much of an imprint on her and Lindsay’s lives. Her daughter was comfortable with Colton’s easy ways. It was hard to believe he was a multi-millionaire ballplayer.

When she returned with lemonade and a bowl of popcorn, she found the porch empty. “Lindsay,” she called out and set down her tray. Walking to the edge of the porch she saw the barn door open. “Lindsay!” she screamed and ran across the yard.

“In the barn,” Colton hollered from its entrance with Lindsay at his side.

“Get away from there this instant!
Now,
Lindsay.” She took off at a run.

Her daughter stood firm at Colton’s side. His hand cupped her small shoulder. “She’s fine,” he said as Kate came to a halt before him, red-faced.

“What is the matter with you?” she continued to scream at Colton. “That barn’s about to fall down. How
dare
you take my daughter inside?” Every word was edged with panic.

“The barn’s fine,” he said in a low, steady voice. “You’re scaring Lindsay for no reason.”

Lindsay began to cry and rushed to Kate, who picked her up and cradled her. A nasty fight scene between Kate and her ex flashed through her mind—the one where Trey struck her while Lindsay cowered in a puddle of fear behind her back.

Hot tears welled as Kate headed for the house, leaving him at the barn entrance wearing a scowl of confusion on his face.

The popcorn and lemonade could sit on the porch over night for all she cared. She had no intention of coming back outside and facing him after acting like a raving mad woman.

Chapter Ten

With no time to inspect the guitar outside her kitchen door, Kate rushed with Lindsay to await the school bus. An empty popcorn bowl and drained lemonade pitcher sat on the porch table. Upon her return, she gathered them up and hurried inside to inspect the guitar.

Setting the tray of dirty dishes on the counter she went to retrieve the note sitting on top the guitar case. It simply read
Peace Offering
.

Unable to resist a peek inside the hard-shell case, she made sure his door was closed and brought the guitar into the kitchen. She set it on the kitchen table and ran her hand over the pebbled case. The snap of the latches sent her pulse to her throat as she opened it and breathed in the familiar smell of wood and new lacquer. The distinct fragrance of a new guitar made tears prick at the back of her eyes.

Her fingers trembled as she ran them across the six steel strings: the coarse low E string with its ridges, its alter ego at the other end of the spectrum with its silky high E string sharp against her tender fingers. Perfect pitch vibrated from the guitar as she plucked an A string. Oh God, she couldn’t accept a Martin. The melody that first wound through her brain at Claire’s made her hesitate.

She chewed on a knuckle. Quickly, she shut the lid and marched it across the hall to set it in front of his door. Still asleep at eight-thirty, it would be a long wait for him to roust himself. Then what would she do if he insisted she keep the guitar?

Pushing away the impulse to take the instrument and run, she hurried back to the kitchen table. She left the kitchen door open to keep a watchful eye on Colton’s door and the guitar. The vision of the beautiful guitar nestled in a plush purple bed, its smell and touch burned in her memory so deep her chest ached.

An urge to retrieve the case made her get up and rummage through the garbage for the peace offering note. She flattened it on the kitchen counter. The note was stuck inside a cookbook as she looked over her shoulder at the open kitchen door and the quiet center of her inn. Would it ever throb with life? Would he ever wake up?

The front door opened making her go see who was there. Colton. Drenched with sweat in a Bullets tee, running shorts, and new tennis shoes, he eyed the guitar in front of his door but didn’t comment.

“You been running?” she said, startled to see he hadn’t been asleep. She leaned a shoulder into the kitchen doorframe and crossed her arms over her midriff.

Without a word, he headed for his room with the guitar and closed the door.

“Well, I see the cowboy has a feminine side and can pout with the best of us.” She unfolded her arms and went back to the table to flip pages on the newspaper. Her ears were tuned to Colton’s door, curious if he would come ask for breakfast or mention the guitar he put out of her reach.

In what seemed an impossibly short time, his door swung open. His sandals padded across the large center room as he marched into her kitchen without so much as a hello and poured himself a cup of coffee. He opened the fridge and helped himself to half-’n-half, stirred two spoons of sugar into his cup, and began searching for a pan.

“What in God’s name are you doing?”

“Making myself breakfast.” Watching him from the corner of her eye, he reopened the fridge and removed eggs. Butter. Jam. Cheese. Onion and a piece of green pepper. He picked up the bacon, must have decided against it, and put it back.

He slipped a knife from the butcher block and chopped vegetables with a vengeance. Fearing he would lop off a finger, Kate jumped to her feet. “Here, what do you want? I’ll make it.”

Colton elbowed her away from where he was working and threw the onion and pepper into a bowl of eggs.

“You should sauté the onion and pepper then add the eggs to the pan.”

He ignored her comment and whisked the bowl’s contents into an angry froth and set it aside. “Don’t want you feeling indebted to me. I’ll make my own breakfast in the future. For as long as I’m here. You can go about your own chores.” He fixed a mean topaz eye her direction.

Holding her coffee cup, Kate rested a hip against the cabinets to watch butter melt in a fry pan. “Go,” he told her. “I’ll clean up after myself.”

“I’m not going anywhere. This is my kitchen, you overbearing jerk.”

“Then go back to reading the paper.”

She thumped her cup on the counter, sloshing coffee over the edge. “You are so...so infuriating,” her voice rose before she pursed her lips.

“Why—because someone wants to be nice to you and you can’t handle it? Because someone wants to give you a helping hand for no reason other than you’re a nice person in need of a fresh start? Because I wanted to show your daughter a helluva safe barn where a
real
horse might live? Oh, don’t start crying, Kate. I’m too damned mad to be softened with a fall of tears.”

“You called my dad. Y-you dumped a pile of rockers and tables on my front porch and gave me an expensive guitar. No, Colton, you aren’t being nice and helpful. You’re confusing the hell out of me.”

“Swear,” he warned with that same dark topaz eye and moved the eggs onto a plate before grabbing a bottle of Tabasco sauce. Several healthy shakes of red heat splotched over the top of the eggs.

“You want toast?” She swiped away a tear. When he didn’t answer, she realized he was in a snit that trumped her emotions over the guitar. She lowered two slices of homemade bread into the toaster. His eggs were devoured as the toast popped. She buttered it and set it next to him with a jar of quince jam her mother made from trees in her backyard.

“Sit,” he told her and gave her a hard stare before getting up from his chair to rinse his plate and stick it in the dishwasher. “I mean it, Kate. Sit the hell down. I’ve something to say.”

As she sat, he grabbed her coffee cup off the counter and set it in front of her. “Why are you shaking?”

“You’re acting like my ex.”

“This is between you and me. Kate and Colton. Leave whatever baggage you’re bringing to our conversation at the door. It’s a new day.”

Boy, there is an understatement.
Kate settled down when she realized Colton handled his anger far different than Trey. She wondered if the deep, imbedded fear would ever leave.

He spread jelly across his toast and took a bite, keeping her in his sight while he chewed. “My life’s complicated. More so than yours. I’m here to recover from an injury that may have ended my career. That carpenter who came to your place. He’s a retired catcher from the Arizona Diamondbacks. He was my mentor when I was a snot-nosed kid out of college. Germaine’s a friend my brother called to come out here and help you because he does carpentry now that he’s retired.”

“The Airstream made me suspicious. Do you know what an Airstream costs?”

“A bundle. Whatever. He charged you a fair price. You paid him and you’ve a helluva good job in return. That wasn’t charity. It was me making a phone call to my brother to find a local carpenter to help you out so you could get this inn up and running.”

“Thank you.” Kate sipped her coffee and saw her appreciation caused a stutter in his brain.

He puffed out a breath and regained his thoughts. “Germaine showed me my arm’s okay if I’m smart and don’t push it. That’s what I intend to do. I mean to stay on a couple more weeks then return to the Bullets and workout with my trainer. Then I’ll see what happens.”

Millions of questions sat on the tip of Kate’s tongue. Who was the woman that took him to Knoxville? The rockers, the guitar, and his meddling by getting her dad involved in the construction pile thief. The scene at the barn that he mentioned then dropped. What about the feelings she couldn’t help attach to him? What did she do with those? She turned to him and held a long, questioning gaze and every bone in her body melted in need. She wanted to drag him upstairs and make love all day.

Colton leaned his arms on the table. “I’m a friend, Kate. Nothing more,” he said as if seeing desire in her eyes. She lowered her eyes in hopes the heat that rushed to her face didn’t show. “I’ve screwed up with women, and I’ve no intention of screwing up with you. We’re friends,” he repeated as if she didn’t understand the hurtful words the first time.

“And the barn’s safe,” he continued. “Do you really think I would take Lindsay inside a dangerous structure? I like that kid. I wanted her to see the horse stalls and the tack room. You should take a look as well. There’s furniture in there you might want to refinish for your inn.”

The lump in Kate’s throat made it impossible for her to speak. She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and stared into its inky depth. “I don’t pick up strangers because my daughter was involved in a carjacking when she was five.” She stuttered in a breath. “We never used sitters much. Trey didn’t approve of me working in any capacity. Lindsay was my job. I tried to keep the music alive. We had a trusted teenager Trey approved of when we went to social events.”

Colton touched her arm. His warm fingers sizzled against her skin. “You don’t owe me any explanations, Kate.”

She looked into his compassionate eyes no longer filled with his earlier anger. “No, I need to tell you like you needed your say about Germaine. So you know I’m not mental. Trey was in New York at a convention. I think he was having an affair. Since other wives attended and he wouldn’t take me, I hired the sitter and went to a Nashville club to meet friends. While I was gone, the sitter took Lindsay in her car to a QuickBuy. She put her in the backseat without a booster and left her in the car while she ran inside. Two teenagers stole the car with Lindsay inside. When they discovered her, the boys abandoned the car with Lindsay safe inside but frightened. Trey blamed me.”

“He approved of the sitter.”

“Not in Trey’s logic. Things unraveled fast after that. I accused him of cheating, and he smashed my guitars. The piano had already been gifted to a church. He called me awful things in front of Lindsay. We’d had bitter fights in the past that she’d witnessed, but nothing like that night. It was a terrible blow, as I’d become over-protective of Lindsay because she was my only job. The guilt was horrible. That’s why I freaked out when I saw her in the barn. I’m sorry.”