Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (25 page)

“Amelia wanted to take a look at the place,” Eric said.  His attempt at a smile faltered as he walked over to the table and began picking up bottles.  “I thought I told you to clean up after yourself.”

“It wasn’t me,” Curtis said, his attention still on Amelia.  “Must have been the ranch hands.”

Amelia was sure she heard Eric mutter, “What ranch hands?”

“Have you come to take possession of your new estate, m’lady?” Curtis asked.

“I hardly think that’s up to me,” she answered.  Keeping her smile in place was as difficult as learning the steps of a complex dance.  “Would it be a problem to have me in residence?”

“No, no, no, not at all.”  Curtis dismissed the idea with a wave.  “Your beauty would be a welcome distraction.”  He blinked at his own words, smile spreading.

“I wanted Amelia to take a look at things,” Eric explained, arms full of bottles, missing the exchange.  “This is gonna be her home, after all.”

A grin broke through his consternation over the mess.  He winked at her.  A familiar flush of shame washed through Amelia.  It felt far too good to be winked at.

“I was eager to see the home Eric loves so much.”  She focused on Curtis, forcing a smile.

“Well then, let me show you around.”

Curtis offered his arm to her.  Amelia took it, ripples of anxiety pouring down her back.  Curtis nudged closer to her, covering her hand on his arm with his long fingers.  The smile he sent her as he escorted her across the porch and into the house felt familiar.  She’d seen smiles that flattered and belittled like that before, kne
w them like she knew her name.

Nick u
sed to smile at her like that.

The screen door slapped shut behind them.

“Thanks,” Eric grumbled through the closed door, arms full.

Amelia turned back to open the door for him, but Curtis tugged her into the living room.  Her heart thundered to her throat.

“This is where we spend our long winter days,” Curtis said, oblivious to Eric struggling to open the screen door with his foot.  “Right over there is where we put the Christmas tree every year,  No doubt you’ll want to get rid of all this furniture and replace it with new.”

“Don’t mind me,” Eric said as he crossed through the hall behind them.  “I don’t need help.”

“Shouldn’t we…,” Amelia began, voice shaking.  What was Delilah thinking, asking her to cozy up to Curtis?

“The fireplace is top-rate,” Curtis ignored both her and Eric.  “You should see the blazes we’ve had.  Here, this is Eric’s favorite chair.  Have a seat.”

“I thought we were going to take a tour?”

“Don’t you want to rest your tired feet?”

A muffled crash of glass being thrown into a trash bin sounded from the back of the house.  “Hellfire and brimstone, Curtis!” Eric shouted.  “Who left a steak on the table?”

His shout was followed by the yowl of a cat.  Seconds later a flash of grey streaked past the doorway and out through a hole in the screen door.

“I think he needs help,” Amelia said.  A second too late she added a grin that she hoped Curtis would interpret as friendly.

“I think he needs all sorts of help.”  There was no mistaking Curtis’s return grin as very friendly indeed.

Amelia cleared her throat.  “The kitchen?”

“This way.”

Curtis walked her through the living room to a doorway at the other side.  It crossed through a small room with hooks on the wall hung with work coats, a bench, and rows of muddy boots, a pantry that needed stocking, and into a wide, sunny kitchen.  Amelia’s shoulders loosened as she stepped into the cheerful room.  It held a modern stove, an ice box, a sink under a curtained window, a table with chairs around it, and a bigger mess than she thought even the Hamilton children would have been capable of making.

“What’s going on here?” Eric asked as he scraped a ruined steak into a basket beside the sink.  “I just cleaned this up yesterday.  Are you sure you’re not hosting poker nights in here?”

Curtis laughed.  “Nothing of the sort, cuz.  Although I have been letting some of the ranch hands use the kitchen.  No Mrs. Walter, remember?”

Eric replied by staring at Curtis for a moment then shaking his head and continuing with his clean-up.

“Do you need help with that?” Amelia asked.  She pulled her arm out of Curtis’s and skipped to Eric’s side, relieved to be free.

“You could wipe the table down.”  Eric handed her a washcloth and gestured to the sink.  “I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to train the cats to stay off the table and counters but-”

“They’re cats,” Amelia finished.

“Yeah.”

Their eyes met.  They both smiled.  Amelia’s chest filled with possibility.

She turned her back on it before she could give in.

“If it were up to me there would be no cats in the house at all,” Curtis interrupted their moment.  He glanced out through the kitchen window before taking the washcloth out of Amelia’s hands.  “A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be cleaning up after cats.  Come on, why don’t I show you the barn.”

“I don’t mind working,” Amelia said, but it was too late.  Curtis took her arm and pulled her away from Eric and the counter.

“Come on, Eric, you too.  Don’t you want to introduce your English rose to your cows?”

“Well if you put it that way,” Eric chuckled.

Eric followed as Curtis walked Amelia up the hall and out to the porch again.  When she checked over her shoulder Amelia found him smiling.  Not even Curtis could dent Eric’s good mood once it took hold.  It was contagious.  She found herself wishing Curtis were worlds away and that she and Eric had the house to themselves.

But no, that was the opposite of what she wanted, wasn’t it?

“I’m sure Eric would be more than happy to show you the bedrooms later,” Curtis joked as if he could hear her thoughts.  They stepped out into the morning sunlight and down the stairs.

“That’s none of your business,” Eric said.

All Amelia could do was fight to keep her balance as Curtis whisked her down the stairs and into the yard.  He walked too fast and flitted from one thing to another before she could settle on how best to find out the information Delilah implied she could find out.  The man was a whirlwind that never let anyone around him settle.

“This is the barn,” he said as they approached the big maroon building.

“I see,” Amelia said.

A pair of men were working in the fenced-in area beside the barn, shoveling hay from the back of a wagon.  They paid more attention to her as she, Curtis, and Eric stopped to watch than they did to their work.  The man that Curtis had shouted at earlier, Jed, bore a distinct resemblance to Jacinta Archer, short with copper hair.  It seemed to Amelia that he was doing nothing more than moving the same fork full of hay from one pile to the other and back again.

“It’s awfully big,” Amelia said, shading her eyes and staring up at the barn when no one said anything.

“It has to be.”  Eric stepped up to her side.  “The cattle can’t stay out in the open in the winter, not around here.  They’ll freeze.”  He crossed his arms and stared at Curtis.

“I had nothing to do with that.”  Curtis held up his hands.  It gave Amelia a chance to let go of his arm and latch on to Eric’s.  She let out a breath of relief.  “Your old friend Hernando was responsible for getting them all inside when the temperatures really dropped.  That’s why I fired him.”

“I thought you said some farmer from Idaho poached all the ranch hands,” Eric said.

“Jed, what in God’s name are you doing with that hay?”  Curtis charged forward, swinging open the gate into the paddock where the two men worked.

“I… uh....”  Jed stumbled toward Curtis and hissed, “You told me to look busy.”

Amelia’s eyes widened before she could control herself.  She spun closer to Eric.  “What is that all about?”

Eric sighed, readjusting his hat.  “I think Jed’s drunk again.”

“I think it’s more than that,” she countered.

Eric glanced down at her.  The brim of his hat cast a blunt shadow across his eyes.  She couldn’t tell if he entertained her suspicion or if he thought she was ridiculous.

“One way or another, he needs to be dunked in a trough.”

Eric grinned at his quip and nudged Amelia to walk forward.  They ambled to the fenced-in yard beside the barn.  Eric held the gate for her as they entered.  Curtis was busy growling something in Jed’s ear.  Jed did appear to be intoxicated.  The other worker watched with wide eyes, darting a look between Curtis and Eric and Amelia.  Curtis finished what he was saying to Jed and turned to Eric and Amelia.  Jed dropped his pitchfork and dashed into the barn.

“He’s hopeless but harmless,” Curtis said.  His transition from harsh taskmaster to smooth salesman was too fast for Amelia.  He was most certainly trying to sell something.  “Do you want to see inside the barn?”

“Certainly,” Amelia replied.

“Right this way.”

The barn was a barn.  It was large and dim and smelled of animals and feed.  Amelia had seen all she needed to see within five minutes of entering, but Curtis showed them through every inch of it as though it were a museum.  At one point Amelia tried to take Eric aside to ask him if Curtis usually showed as much zeal for a barn, but Eric seemed to be enjoying the show.  He grinned at his cousin as though they were telling jokes.

They exited the barn on the far side, into another paddock lined with toughs.

“So there you go,” Curtis said, hands spread wide.  “That’s our ranch.  Now that you’ve seen this I’m sure you’re as eager as ever to get back to the hotel in town.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d be all right with staying and getting some work done,” Eric asked Amelia.

“Absolutely,” Amelia replied.  “Whatever you need me to do.”

“The kitchen.”  Eric arched an eyebrow.  “And I do want to show you the upstairs.  There are a couple of empty bedrooms that we could spruce up for….”  He glanced at her stomach.

Amelia had her hands resting on her belly again.  She whisked them away as soon as she noticed.  “I’d be happy to clean up the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Quinlan.”

Eric held out his arm.  Amelia took it.  He started to walk her around the barn and back toward the house.

“Eric, where are your manners?”  Curtis jumped ahead of them and tried to stop them.  “Amelia is obviously tired.  Take her back to town so she can lie down.”

Eric sighed, his cousin obviously wearing on him.  “Why don’t you let Amelia decide for herself what she wants to do.  Do you want to go back to town and take a nap?”

“No,” Amelia was quick to answer.  “But you’re so kind to think of me, Curtis,” she followed.  Friends.  She needed to be friends with Curtis if he was going to tell her anything.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he smiled his salesman’s smile.

“You’re as kind as your cousin.  Perhaps if I sat on the porch for a bit?”  She could meet him halfway and then some.  “Would you be willing to tell me what Eric was like growing up?”

Curtis hesitated.  He opened his mouth, eyes darting between Amelia and Eric.  “He hasn’t already told you?”

“I’d like to hear your story.  I’m sure there are things you could tell me that he wouldn’t.”  Truth be told, she might find some of those stories quite interesting.

Curtis must have seen the genuine interest in her eyes.  His fast smile returned.  “Of course, Cousin Amelia.  Let’s get you settled on the porch.”

They continued through the yard.  Amelia began searching her mind in advance for the questions she needed to ask, how long Eric and Curtis had owned the ranch, what Curtis’s other hobbies were, what part he played in running the ranch.

“What the hell is that?” Eric said when they rounded the barn.

Amelia followed the line of his sight.  A faint trail of smoke rose up from the other side of a hill behind the house.  “Is there another house over there?”

“No,” Eric answered.  “It was there the other day too.  Are you-”

“It’s probably nothing.”  Curtis rushed them on toward the house and out of sight of the smoke.  Eric continued to crane his neck and frown at the smoke until Curtis brightened and said, “You know, I bet it’s that Jed Archer’s fault.  Someone said he’s got a still set up over there.  I’ve been seeing smoke and other things over there all week.  Didn’t think much of it.  And you know, the Twitchel kids like to play back there near the creek.  They could be up to something.  But I bet it’s Jed.  I’ll have to speak to him about it.”

“Isn’t Jed in the barn?” Amelia asked.  “You just spoke to him.”

“Here we go.”  Curtis reached for her other arm as if she was an invalid who needed help up the stairs.  He fussed over her until she was seated in a cushioned wicker settee facing the barn.  “Let’s just get you some refreshment.  Eric, why don’t you make your lovely wife some lemonade or something.”

“I don’t think we-”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Amelia?”

“I…,” Amelia stuttered.

“I’ll find something,” Eric sighed.  “I could use a drink myself.”