Cutter Mountain Rendezvous (22 page)

She threw the note on the table and shouted. “
COWARD!
That’s what
C
stands for, you insensitive clod. How could I have ever thought you different than any other man with money?”

The check and note were snatched up again. She wanted to shred them into a million pieces. A small tear made her stop. No. She would save them so she could toss them in Colton’s face when he returned for Bessie.
If
he returned, she reminded herself. His plan to send a flatbed truck hardly meant he would personally retrieve his precious truck. Yes, well, Bessie was precious to her as well. She didn’t want the truck going anywhere. Her own fond memories were attached to Bessie.

Maybe she should fly into Chicago and deliver them in person. That would make a statement. She made another slow rip halfway through the check and note. Unable to finish the job, she tossed them on the table. Tears pooled and spilled down her cheeks. “How dare you sneak away at dawn and leave me naked in bed like a two-bit hussy? I
hate
you.
C.

THUMP.
Her fist hit the table with enough force to jangle the spoon on her saucer.

The chair she sat on rocked when she sprang from it to retrieve another note from Colton: one written as a peace offering when he had given her the guitar. That note was tossed into a cookbook. That is,
after
she fished it out of the garbage.

Kate slipped the cookbook from its rack and added the half torn check with its tactless note. She slammed it shut. No need to read the other note. She would just store them up and when Colton was at the height of his comeback, she would pull them out and frame them. Hang them in the room where he once slept and made
patient
sensual love to her. There was a fortune to be made in renting out the room where the famous Col-Train railroaded her into his bed then left like a hobo in the night to hop the next boxcar north.

Tears flowed in earnest. No. She wouldn’t do any of those things. She had gone to bed with him as an adult, knowing it was a fling. Instead, she would take Taylor Swift’s lead and write a song. One that left no doubt it was about a ballplayer nicknamed Col-Train.

Gawd!
She needed to get out of the house. Go into town and meet her mom at Beulah’s for a cup of coffee. Call Lindsay in California and tell her she loved her.

Racing through the house to grab her things, she vowed not to look into Colton’s empty room littered with the sheets, quilt, and rollaway mattress pulled to the floor. She did, of course. What a shock to see he put the mattress on its springs along with the folded sheets and quilt.

She didn’t know if she was more upset with herself or Colton. On the bright side, she wasn’t as worried about meeting Bennett Field at his lawyer’s office in Knoxville. After today, it would be a walk in the park.

****

“There’s a young woman over there asking Colton’s whereabouts.” Beulah set steaming coffee in front of Kate and rested an arm on the counter that accommodated twenty customers on stools.

Kate glanced toward a booth that overlooked Bear Creek’s only main street. Even sitting, the brunette looked shapely and slender. Was she an ex-girlfriend? Her outfit of jeans, white turtleneck, and lightweight red jacket didn’t look any more remarkable than Kate’s jeans and pale-yellow shirt.

Beulah leaned in. “I told her there has been no Colton Gray in our town.”

Kate fixed her questioning eyes on Beulah. “Why? He is here. Or was. He left for Chicago this morning.” Heat began to creep up under her collar.

Beulah reached in her pocket and silently pushed a business card over the counter to Kate, her gaze fixed on the brunette.

“A reporter from Chicago Wham Sports? Took them long enough to find him.”

“Maybe you should go talk to her since he’s left and all.”

“Why me?”

“Because he was at your place. It could get you just the publicity you need to interest folks into booking at your inn. Wouldn’t hurt to let her know my kitchen’s the best home cooking in the state.”

“You already feed the whole surrounding area of Bear Creek. Now you want folks coming in droves from Chicago?” Kate grabbed another sneak peek at the brunette talking on her cell phone and jabbing one finger at her computer keys. She seemed oblivious to the curiosity she was causing in the cafe.

Beulah pushed the card closer to Kate. “Go. See what she really wants.”

Kate took a deep breath. “Sure. Why not? Pour Mom a cup of coffee when she gets here.” She swiveled off the stool.

A hush fell over the cafe as the locals watched Kate make her way to the brunette’s booth. She slid across the dark-green vinyl seat and leaned her arms on the table.

The young woman didn’t flinch as she stared at Kate across the top of her laptop. “I’ll get back to you, Harry.” She snapped her cell shut. “May I help you?” She raised a perfectly tweezed dark eyebrow as she set the phone on top of the quickly closed laptop.

Kate shot her a smile she knew was anything but friendly. “No. May I help
you
? Beulah says you’ve been asking about Colton Gray. That you’re a sports reporter.”

The brunette straightened with a catlike smile and narrowed her eyes. “I knew it. He’s here, isn’t he?” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Allison Brant from Wham Sports in Chicago.”

“Kate Crockett.” The firm handshake was returned. “Colton left for Chicago several hours ago.”

Both Allison Brant’s hand and smug smile wilted. “Why, that rat fink brother of his. First he sends me to Wyoming, saying his brother went there to think things through. I spent days chasing that detour.” She made a small sigh. “Then he teams up with his mother on this dead-end.” She drummed her fingers on the table. No fancy manicure, Kate noticed. Neat, filed nails. No rings or jewelry except a watch face the size of a silver dollar.

“I imagine the rat fink would be Colton’s brother, Mason? I hear he’s protective of Colton. One’s as bad as the other, if you ask me. Colton accuses his brother of doing the very things he does himself. Meddles into everyone’s business in the name of lending a hand, but I think they’re really protectors and can’t help themselves.”

Miss Wham Sports’ jaw dropped. “You seem to know him well. Is that why he came here? To hide out with a girlfriend? Although I can’t say I recognize you, and I’ve followed his career from Arizona to Atlanta to Chicago.” Allison’s eyes turned speculative. “Besides, you look like a teenager. He definitely doesn’t date fresh-faced kids.”

Kate felt her jaw tighten. “I’m an adult, Miss Brant. Not a teenager. His truck broke down near our town. I rented him a room in my inn. Well, it will be an inn. It’s not quite finished.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. You seem like a nice enough kid…er, woman.”

“You’ve made me curious. What type of women does Colton Gray date?”

Allison shrugged. “If I say cheerleader, does that help?”

“Sorta.” Since Allison was definitely not the cheerleader type, Kate ruled her out as a stringer on Colton’s female pursuit team. There was vulnerability about Allison that put Kate at ease. “Is it typical for a Chicago sports reporter to follow a player’s career to Arizona and Atlanta?”

Allison laughed. “Who’s the reporter here? I went to the University of Illinois with them. I was in his brother’s graduating class. Not that Mason ever noticed me. Colton was one of the campus heartthrobs and making a name for himself on the pitcher’s mound there. It seemed natural to be interested in what happened to him.”

“Because you liked him?”

“No. Mason. But that’s ancient history. How long was Colton here?”

“He hung out at my place for a few weeks, doing workouts. I don’t really know him. He rented a room, and I minded my own business. Washed his sheets and gave him a few meals while he rehabbed.” She shrugged, keeping in mind Allison was a reporter. “The usual. Now he’s gone back to the Bullets.”

“Is he healed enough to pitch?” Miss Wham Sports lit up like a Christmas tree. Kate figured this equated to receiving a hot scoop.

“Yep.” Kate chewed on her bottom lip. She should really stay out of this. Let Colton answer her questions. As if reading Kate’s thoughts, the reporter began to gather her things.

“Listen, thanks, but I need to get going. By the way”—Allison glanced at Kate while pulling a ten from her wallet—“I followed Colton’s mom here from Chicago in hopes I’d locate him. Lost her a short distance from here and came into this cafe to regroup.” She scooted across the green vinyl and set the money on the table. “Thanks for the tip. I needed a break. I’ll remember you helped me out.”

“Wait. What about his mom?”

Allison’s eyes glittered with amusement. “She’s your problem now.”

Miss Wham Sports rushed from the cafe. Wide windows along the front of the booths made it easy to be nosy. Kate and everyone in the cafe followed her digging a path to an older model white Honda with a cell phone to her ear.

“What?” Kate glared at Wiley Trippe, the owner of Bear Creek’s Laundromat.

Seated in the booth behind her eavesdropping, he gave her a look that suggested Kate’s honesty to tell Colton’s whereabouts might have bordered on treason.

Since Colton’s arrival, the town had rallied around him and prided themselves in keeping his stay hidden from the press. She imagined Colton had orchestrated that coup.

Kate stood and announced to the onlookers. “Colton’s gone. Back to Chicago. Where’s the harm in telling the truth? Beulah, tell Mom I had to go home. She’ll understand.”

“Tell her yourself.” Beulah wiped a cloth across the counter. “She just pulled into the reporter’s vacated spot.”

Kate rushed outside to catch up with her mom and related her conversation with the reporter. “Would you mind following me out to the house to meet her?”

Her mother studied her a moment. As if she knew Colton had broken down her barriers. That she’d willingly made love to him several times over the course of the night.

Could her mom also see his tender and sensitive nature helped her reach heights never experienced in her sexual past? Heat assaulted her cheeks. Was the pain of his leaving in such a cruel manner etched there as well? Her mother’s furrowed brow seemed to shout,
Here we go again.
Kate’s made another big mistake.

“Forget it, Mom. It’s my problem.” Kate spun around and headed for her car.

“Now, Kate—”

Oh, if she had a nickel for every time she heard that phrase, she would be rich.

Once out of town, Kate knew she couldn’t go home. What if Colton’s mother was there? Moms saw things other people missed. Would sleeping with her son be read in her face like her own mother seemed to know?

Driving aimlessly, with no particular place in mind, she wound up parking at the Cutter Mountain outlook. The very place where she first laid eyes on the cowboy and his broken down truck, Bessie.

There she sat atop a short stone wall and breathed in the mountain air. Wood smoke drifted on the breeze as a new tune ran across her mind. The words soon followed.

Over and over you drift across my mind,

Gentle as a breeze, a moment out of time,

She hopped to her feet. Excitement and inspiration vibrated through her every pore as she went to her car to retrieve a pen and notepad. She rushed back to the low wall. Words and music filled her head as she hummed aloud and wrote at a furious pace.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Colton groaned when his cell rang. His mother’s number flashed across the screen for the umpteenth time. He placed the cell to his ear and said upbeat, “Mom. I haven’t picked up your calls because I’ve been juggling a McDonald’s bag in my lap for the last five rings.”

“No excuse. I’ve been sitting on Bessie’s hood for an hour. Surely you’ve not been filling your face that long.”

“Hell, Mom. Why—”

“Colton, must you swear?”

“I live in a locker room. Remember?” He set the large coffee in a cup holder when he squeezed so hard the lid popped off. He imagined Kate bending his mother’s ear about his swearing, his meddling, his cold note.
His
many faults would sustain them for hours. “Is Kate there?”

“Who?”

He blew out a breath. “Kate Crockett. She runs the inn there. Surely, Mason told you that much.”

“Of course he did. Except he said her name was Kathyrn not Kate. I like Kate better. And it doesn’t look like much of an inn to me. There isn’t even a sign.”

“She’s not open yet. Did you knock on the door?”

“No one answered so I thought I’d come take a look at Bessie. There’s a Lexus parked here—”

“Doesn’t mean anything. She also has a truck. Black. Is it there?”

“No. But, there was an interesting fellow who said you were both gone. That’s why I’m sitting here on Bessie trying to get hold of you.”

“What fellow?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t give his name. I saw him standing near Bessie so I thought I’d ask if he knew your whereabouts. So where are you?”

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