Read Good Together Online

Authors: C. J. Carmichael

Tags: #Western, #Montana, #family issues, #American romance, #Series

Good Together (20 page)

BOOK: Good Together
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But now that the topic had been raised, Mattie wondered why it was that never once, in nineteen years, had Dani ever come to Bishop Stables. She made a mental note to ask next time they were chatting. In fact, calls to both Dani and Callan were overdue. The situation with Wes was not going to be resolved and she wanted everyone in her family to hear the news first from her.

Except her dad. She’d let Callan tell him. She was pretty sure her dad would find a way to blame her. She just didn’t need to go through that.

“And your youngest sister—Callan—how does she like working at The Circle C with your father?”

“I honest don’t know how she copes. He is so ill tempered—one of those old-timers who is pretty much impossible to please. I used to avoid him as a kid—he was always taking me to task for one mistake or another. Full marks to Callan for putting up with him. She only does it because she loves the ranch so much...”

Mattie could relate. She loved Bishop Stables the same way. “Tell me, Nat.” She leaned forward, conspiratorially. “Are you considering buying the ranch from Wes? I know he’s asked you about it.”

Nat leaned back in his chair. For the first time that evening he seemed uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Actually, it is, Mattie. Your name may not be on the land title, but that place has been your home for almost twenty years. And the truth is, I’m torn. I don’t like the idea of strangers moving in right next to me. On the other hand, I was thinking of scaling down my operation. Not expanding.”

She was shocked to hear him say that. “Scaling down? Why?” Like her, Nat was doing the work he’d been born to do. Living in the one place in the world where he most belonged.

“I’m not getting any younger. And I don’t have kids coming up behind me, the way I did with my father.”

“Not getting any younger. Don’t be ridiculous, Nat. You’re not even middle-aged.”

“By most people’s standards, I most definitely am. I’m forty-nine, Mattie. Next year I’ll be fifty.”

The number took her by surprise. She’d always considered Nat a contemporary. But then, at this stage in life a ten year age-gap wasn’t that much. “You don’t
look
middle-aged.”

“Thank you.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled though, belying her compliment. “I sure feel it sometimes though.”

She knew what he meant. She’d heard Wes complain often enough about how much it hurt to get out of bed in the morning. Of course Wes’s body had taken plenty of hard knocks in the rodeo ring. But years of working with cattle took a similar toll on the body.

“Did you and Julia ever talk about having kids?”

“We did more than talk.”

Mattie laughed.

“But—wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes I think that was a good thing. Would have been hard on kids after we’d broken up, especially since Julia moved around so much.” He finished his tea, and set the cup back on the table. “Other times I wonder if kids maybe could have saved our relationship. Who knows. I suppose it’s possible.”

Is that what he wished, Mattie wondered. Perhaps a lingering love for Julia was the real reason Nat had never remarried.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

N
at was a perfect gentlemen when he said good night—something Mattie found herself slightly regretting, as she closed the door to her luxurious suite. If she’d been a different sort of person, she might have invited him in for a drink. Maybe they could have watched a movie together.

It would be better than being alone.

She’d never had a hotel room to herself before, let alone an entire suite. If she were in a happier frame of mind, she would have taken photographs of the gorgeous tub and luxurious bedding and texted them to her daughters.

But what words would she use to accompany the pictures?

“Hi girls, just found out your dad has a new woman in his life. Nat Diamond and I are staying... here!”

Oh, no, that did not seem like a good idea at all.

Mattie ran water into the tub, pouring in half of one little shower gel bottle to make some bubbles. She ran the water in the sink until it was cold, then filled up one of the water glasses provided. No sense drinking bottled water, when the real stuff here was as good as it got.

Next she turned on the TV. Not because she wanted to watch a show, but so she didn’t feel lonely. Like some televised voices and laugh tracks were going to change that. Then she stripped out of her clothes and sank her weary body into the hot, perfumed water.

Heavenly.

She never took the time for leisurely soaks in the bathtub at home.

So why was she crying?

She could feel moisture running down her cheeks and knew it wasn’t humidity from the bath. Just a few hours ago she’d been bragging to Nat about how good she was feeling. She’d said seeing Wes with that young beauty hadn’t been that hard.

But it wasn’t true.

It
had
hurt. A lot.

She just hadn’t let the betrayal sink into the deepest part of her heart. But now she had time to recall all the little things she’d noticed in that cabin.

The rumpled blanket on the sofa, reminding her of how she and Wes used to cuddle up together to watch movies. The two dirty coffee mugs and cereal bowls sitting by the sink, testament to a breakfast eaten together. Oddly enough, though, it had been the sets of boots by the door that had stung the most. His and hers.

His.
But not hers, anymore.
Suzanne’s.

Mattie cried.

And cried. And cried.

* * *

D
espite the mattress that felt like a cloud, and linens softer than summer breezes, Mattie hardly slept. She tried to watch movies, but her eyes stung, and she just couldn’t concentrate.

She switched on some music next, but almost every song seemed to come with a painful memory or haunting emotion attached.

When morning finally arrived and Nat tapped at her door—the prearranged signal—she was already dressed and ready to go.

Nat only needed one glance. “Tough night?”

She nodded, bending to get her duffel, hiding her face so he couldn’t get a closer look. She knew she looked rough. She almost didn’t care.

“You should have called.”

“I came close,” she admitted, giving up on the duffel bag, because new tears were forming in her eyes and her vision had blurred.

“Oh, Mattie.” He dropped his own bag and pulled her close for a hug.

They’d shared polite semi-hugs and cheek-kisses before, but this was the first time he’d ever folded his body around hers, offering comfort, warmth, and strength. He was such a large man, and his hug made her feel like she’d been spirited away to a safe spot where no one, and nothing, could ever hurt her again.

She pressed her cheek against the soft sheepskin of his jacket, which smelled of freshly chopped pine and timothy hay. She felt his hand on the top of her head. Gently he stroked her hair, still holding her like something precious. Closing her eyes, she let the good feeling seep into her pores.

And finally took a deep breath, then looked up with a smile. “Damn, but you give good hugs, Nat.”

He carried both bags down to the truck, then they went to get coffee and breakfast bagels to eat on the road. The sky was clear today, an icy blue, with a freezing wind chill to match. Mattie was thankful Nat had thoughtfully warmed the engine, so her seat wasn’t a block of ice when she sat on it.

“Sure you’re okay to drive?” She’d noticed Nat limping a little this morning. The long trip must have been harder on him than it had been on her.

“Yup. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

In the bright light of a new day, Mattie felt much better. But after just an hour on the road, her eyes felt heavy. Her lack of sleep was catching up to her and even the caffeine in her coffee wasn’t enough to perk her up. She struggled to keep awake, to make small talk with Nat. It wasn’t fair of her to sleep when he was doing all the driving.

“I wonder how much snow we got at home?”

“I talked to Seth last night. He said about two inches. Don’t worry, though, I asked him to have our men plow your lane and yard after they finish at the Double D. Should be all clear by the time we get home.”

“Thanks Nat. I’ll be glad to pay you—”

“Come on now, Mattie. You know better than that.”

She let her head relax against the side window. Her eyes drifted closed and she let them stay that way for a few seconds, before prying them open again. To the north, a flock of geese in V-formation were flying toward the low winter sun. “Those poor geese. I guess they must have had enough of this weather.”

“They aren’t the only ones. If the past few weeks are any indication, we’re in for a long, cold winter.” Nat turned to glance at her, catching her just as she was stirring herself awake, again. “Go ahead and sleep. I know you had a rough night.”

“But—”

“No buts. I have satellite radio to keep me company.” He pressed a button on the audio display, selecting a station that played classic rock.

The songs were perfect. Upbeat, but not so raucous that she couldn’t sleep.

In the end, Mattie didn’t think heavy metal could have kept her awake. She dozed most of the way home, feeling warm and safe in the truck as they covered the long miles between Billings and home. Thanks to their early start, they arrived back at Bishop Stables an hour before dinner time.

Mattie’s mood took a upward turn when she spied the familiar outline of their blue metal roof through the grove of dark green pine trees. But then she remembered her home might not belong to her much longer—and depression swamped her.

Nat rolled his truck up next to the side door. He put the gearshift into park, then gave her a rueful smile. “I wish we’d had a better outcome to our trip.”

“At least I know the truth now.” She hoped the answering smile she gave him was brave. He must be so tired of propping her up. The urge the invite him in for dinner was strong. But he’d be wanting to get back to his place.

Tuff wiggled in her lap, sensing they were home, and anxious to be free. She was glad Nat had thoughtfully stopped by the Double D first, to pick up the excited little puppy. Tuff would make her homecoming a lot easier.

She dug out her house keys, then opened the truck door. A blast of cold north wind sucked the air from her lungs. Quickly she turned her back to it, protecting Tuff like she was a baby, pressing the warm puppy up to her chest. Nat came around the hood side of the truck with her duffel bag in tow.

As he’d promised, her driveway was plowed. The walkway to the house had been shoveled too, all the way to the covered stoop over the door leading to the mudroom. She unlocked it, then stepped inside, letting Tuff free, then making room for Nat to join her.

“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

“You need anything,” he said, his voice suddenly gruff. “Tea, tissues...a friend to talk to. You call. Don’t think it’s imposing. It won’t ever be that.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

She looked into his honest and caring face. From her tiptoes she reached up to kiss his cheek, balancing herself with one hand on his arm. Instinctively Nat’s arms moved around her, holding her steady. For a moment it seemed he would kiss her back. But he ended the contact and stepped to the door. After a final nod, he was gone.

* * *

M
attie played with Tuff for about half an hour before finally tackling the red blinking light on her phone. There were two messages, both related to the sale of her horses.

The cowboy coming to get Whiskey Chaser said he’d be by tomorrow, assuming the weather had warmed up by then. The other call was from Jon Claypool, the guy Wes had said had a nice family outfit near Ronan. He was also delaying the pickup of his new horses until tomorrow. “Warm front’s supposed to come in tonight,” Jon drawled. “Won’t be so hard on the horses if we send someone to get them then.”

She knew the horses had to go.

But this final confirmation hit her hard.

She dressed in her warmest work clothes, wrapped Tuff in an old blanket, then headed out to the barn. Hermione was happy to have her playmate back and immediately lunged at Tuff, who retaliated by assuming the border collie pounce stance, front legs down with her butt up in the air, and barking excitedly.

Mattie turned the radio on low, then went out to call her horses. They were all happy enough to come indoors, especially when she offered them an extra ration of oats. Horses burned a lot of extra calories in weather like this.

She spent hours that evening, grooming each horse in turn, talking to them tenderly as she worked, saying her own private goodbyes to each of them.

She saved Princess Bride, Madam Curie, and Copper to the end. These weren’t just horses. They were family members. With all her heart she wished there was some way out of selling them tomorrow. If only she had access to the money Wes had earned from the earlier sale. Maybe the Ellingtons would let her buy them back.

It was scary to realize that while she had legal entitlement to a fair share of what she and Wes had accumulated during their marriage, she didn’t even have enough money to buy three horses. Though what she would do with them if Wes found a buyer for the ranch was another problem to ponder.

By the time she’d finished up in the barn, it was almost nine o’clock. Mattie showered, then made herself some toast slathered in peanut butter for dinner. She sent text messages to her daughters, asking how they were doing, then while she waited for their replies, she called her sister Dani.

They chatted for a while about Dani—her life and her job. She had a few things to say about Portia, how she seemed to be putting too much emphasis on the social scene and not enough on studies.

“She’s always been a social butterfly,” Mattie said. “As long as she isn’t neglecting her classes too much...?”

“She’s achieving average grades. But she’s capable of much better.”

Mattie had heard these comments from most of Portia’s teachers over the years. But she’d learned that you couldn’t push Portia too hard, or she’d simply give up and stop trying altogether. In high school Mattie had encouraged Portia to raise her grades so she could have options for college, but Wes had told her to lighten up, that the ability to get along with people was pretty important in life, and not everyone was meant to be a scholar.

BOOK: Good Together
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