A Cowboy for the Twins Page 3

  But nothing here.

  A few moments later the door of the house opened, and to Shauntelle’s surprise, Noah and Mrs. Cosgrove came out.

  She looked tired and frail. Her once-dark hair hung in a gray bob. The gray-and-pink-striped tunic she wore over leggings seemed to hang on her narrow frame. Shauntelle had seen Mrs. Cosgrove in town from time to time and at church once in a while. Though she couldn’t be more than sixty, she looked far older.

  “I told my son I wanted to say hello to you,” Mrs. Cosgrove said, waving at them as they came nearer. “He said he was helping you make deliveries.”

  “My mom’s car broke down,” Millie announced, clambering out of the truck before Shauntelle could stop her. And where Millie went, Margaret followed.

  They gathered around Mrs. Cosgrove, looking all demure and sweet. It would be rude if she stayed in the truck, so Shauntelle came to join them as well.

  Mrs. Cosgrove gave her a gentle smile, holding her hand out to her. “And how are you doing, my dear? You have been through a lot. First your husband and then your brother.”

  Shauntelle was surprised Mrs. Cosgrove mentioned Josiah in front of Noah. But she swallowed an unwelcome knot of sorrow and gave her a faint smile.

  “It’s been difficult,” she said. “But I have my girls and the community, and I’ve gotten a lot of support from my parents as well.”

  “They are good people and I’m so sorry for their loss, and yours as well when your brother died.” Mrs. Cosgrove took her hand in both of hers, looking into her eyes.

  Her sympathy was almost Shauntelle’s undoing, but she kept it together. She did not want to cry in front of Noah and his mother.

  “My gramma said that Uncle Josiah worked for an evil man,” Millie put in, shattering the mood and moment. “That’s why he died. But Mr. Cosgrove doesn’t look that evil.”

  Shauntelle felt like grabbing her dear daughter and covering her mouth, but it was too late.

  Again she saw pain and anger flit over Noah’s face. Again she wondered how much he took to heart.

  Mrs. Cosgrove looked from Millie to Noah, her own features twisted as she withdrew her hand.

  “Sometimes we only know part of the story,” she said. “But I won’t keep you long. I understand you have lots of deliveries to do. I wanted to say hello. I hope to see you tomorrow at the Farmer’s Market. You will have a table there, won’t you?” she asked Shauntelle.

  “Yes. I will. If you have anything specific you want me to make, you are more than welcome to put in an order.”

  “That’s fine, my dear. Maybe I’ll let Noah pick something out. He’s especially fond of chocolate cake.”

  “I’m fond of your chocolate cake,” Noah corrected.

  His mother gave him a gentle tick with her fingers. “You never say that in front of another woman,” she said.

  “Sorry. Forgot about the female code.” Noah’s smile held a touch of melancholy, and Shauntelle thought it must be difficult for him to see his mother like this. “But you better get back to your easy chair, and we better get going.” Noah motioned with his head to the house.

  Mrs. Cosgrove glanced over at Shauntelle. “He makes me sound like I’ve got one foot in the grave. Which is quite a physical feat, considering the graveyard is about ten miles away.”

  Shauntelle chuckled at that, but she could see from the puzzlement on Millie’s and Margaret’s faces that she would be in for several questions from them about that phrase.

  “You run on now and take care of those meat pies,” Mrs. Cosgrove said, holding her cheek up to Noah for a kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

  And before Noah could protest, she turned and walked back to the house.

  Noah watched her go, and Shauntelle could see that he was torn.

  “We don’t have to do this,” she said. “You can bring me straight to my parents’ place, and then come back sooner.”

  He turned to her with a wry smile. “She’d never let me come back until I was done helping you, so we may as well carry on.”

  His smile made him look more approachable. And his attitude around his mother generated a rift in her own feelings toward him.

  But she shook that off. She couldn’t afford to let herself get soft around him.

  She had her children to think of, her business to plan and her parents to comfort and support.

  Besides, she heard he was only in Cedar Ridge for his cousin’s wedding, and then he would be gone again. Which worked out well. She didn’t think she could be around him any longer than that.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you let that man take you on your deliveries.” Selena Rodriguez’s pinched and lined lips and narrowed eyes made a far more eloquent statement than her clipped sentence.

  “I didn’t have much choice, Mom,” Shauntelle said as she loaded the dishwasher. “The ice in the coolers holding the meat pies was already half-melted. By the time the tow truck came, I wouldn’t have felt right about delivering them. And that would have been a waste, and I would have had unhappy customers.” Besides, she’d sensed Noah would not have let it go.

  It had made for an extremely uncomfortable situation. Trying to keep her anger at him under control while appreciating what he was doing for her.

  She was trying as hard as she could to develop a good reputation, both for her food and her delivery service. She wanted customers to know she was dependable and trustworthy. She hoped building up all this goodwill would keep her in good stead when it came time to open her restaurant.

  “You could have called us,” Selena muttered, rinsing out a rag and wiping down the counters.

  “I tried, but there was no answer. Dad must have been out pumping gas, and you were probably busy somewhere else. Besides, I didn’t like the idea of making you take time out of your workday to come and rescue me.”

  “I would have come for sure if I’d known Noah Cosgrove picking you up was the alternative.” Her mother’s voice broke, and Shauntelle once again struggled with her own variable emotions.

  The name Noah Cosgrove always engendered an unhealthy indignation in the Rodriguez household. Noah had been Josiah’s boss, and her brother died while working for him. Josiah had often complained that Noah pushed everyone too hard.

  After Josiah’s death, there had been inquiries and phone calls and meetings, and it was as if they relived his death again and again.

  Noah was exonerated, but Shauntelle still struggled with forgiveness and anger. Had he not worked her brother so hard, Josiah might still be alive.

  “Well, they’re done.”

  As for her girls, all was right in their world in spite of the emotions swirling around their heads.

  Supper was over and her father sat in the living room reading one of his favorite Thornton Burgess books to the girls. Though she doubted they were that terribly interested in the adventures of Reddy Fox, they were too polite to say any different. And it kept them busy while her mother fussed.

  “I’m thankful Dad could take care of the car,” Shauntelle said. He had arranged for a friend to pick it up and bring it to the wrecker. “I should have brought it in to the mechanic when I had the chance. Dad’s been warning me for months to get it fixed.”

  Though part of the problem was she hadn’t had time to bring it to the mechanic. Between juggling her part-time job at the bank, baking and gardening for the Farmer’s Market and her work to get the restaurant going, extra time was hard to find. And next week she would be even busier working with the contractor who was finishing the arena.

  The restaurant she wanted added had never been in the original plans. She had her own blueprints drawn up at great expense, which meant she would have to work closely in the next few weeks with the contractor to make sure everything meshed.

  “You could have bought a new car with that money you got from when Roger
passed away.”

  “You know I need that money for my restaurant and eventually my own place.” She gave her mother a teasing grin as she put the containers holding leftovers in the refrigerator. “I’m sure you don’t want me and the girls staying here forever. Kind of cramps Dad’s and your style.”

  “You know we enjoy having you around,” her mother said with a gentle smile. “If you’d had a new car you wouldn’t have had to get a ride with...Noah Cosgrove,” her mother added.

  The evil man.

  Millie’s words still made Shauntelle squirm. She would have to make a note to discuss with her mother how she talked about Noah. The girls didn’t need to get pulled into the drama and emotions surrounding her brother’s death.

  “It was okay, Mother,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. She knew she would run into Noah sooner or later, so maybe it was just as well she got it over and done with.

  Though she was still surprised at how difficult it had been to be around him. She couldn’t keep the image of her brother’s coffin out of her mind. The searing pain of lowering her brother down into the ground. The loss of her own dreams and plans.

  She and Josiah had talked of starting the restaurant together, and he had promised once he was done working for Noah, he would come on board. Now that dream was gone too.

  “I can’t believe he’s back. Acting as if nothing has happened.” Her mother’s voice broke as she folded her arms over her stomach, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Shauntelle felt the usual sympathy blended with her own grief. “He came around the store today to get gas, if you can imagine.”

  “Maybe it was the closest place,” Shauntelle suggested, trying to rise above her own reactions. Sometimes she was tired of how much they had ruled her life recently.

  Her mother harrumphed. “He could have gone to the Petro Pumps. It’s just down the road.”

  “Or he could’ve just been trying to give you some business.”

  Her mother frowned at her. “And why are you defending him? Josiah was your brother. If it wasn’t for Noah, he’d be still alive.”

  Shauntelle knew this was her cue to stoke the fires of her mother’s anger, and normally it wasn’t difficult to do. But today she was bone weary and simply didn’t have the energy.

  “I know,” was all she said.

  “Are you okay, honey?” her mother asked, her voice still thick with emotion. “Are you thinking of Josiah too?”

  “I sometimes wonder what he would be doing right now.” She easily slipped into one of her mother’s favorite conversations—imagining a life for Josiah had he not died.

  “Probably working for your father. Maybe taking over the gas station.”

  Shauntelle doubted that. One of the reasons Josiah had originally talked about working with her on a restaurant was to avoid exactly that scenario.

  “He’d probably be traveling,” she said. “Where do you think he would go?”

  Her mother said nothing for a moment, then looked back at her, her eyes dull. “Doesn’t matter, does it? He’s gone. And Noah is here. I don’t know how I’m going to handle that.”

  The sorrow in her voice was Shauntelle’s undoing, and she hurried over to her mother’s side and pulled her into her arms. “You can pray about it, Mother. You’ve always said you receive your strength from the Lord.”

  Her mother sniffed, nodded, and then pulled back. “Yes. If it wasn’t for my faith, I don’t know how I would have gotten through this dark time.” She tugged a tissue out of the box close at hand and dabbed at her eyes. “But I just hope Noah is only here for a short while. I’m not ready to face him for too long.”

  Shauntelle knew she wasn’t either. Seeing Noah had been a shock on so many levels. He’d always been the boogey man. The “evil” man. The man who could create a twist in her stomach at the sheer mention of his name.

  But even before that, he’d been someone who intrigued her. Someone she, at one time, had spun futile dreams around.

  She shook the emotions off. He wasn’t for her, and she didn’t have room for him. She was being utterly foolish giving him even one second of her thoughts.

  Chapter Three

  “Think you’ll sleep okay tonight?” Noah bent over his mother and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

  She sat up in her bed, propped against a ridiculous number of pillows with an equally ridiculous number of books stacked on her bedside table and the floor beside it. A small diffuser steamed beside her bed, filling the room with the rich aroma of one of the many oils she had lined up in front of it.

  “Of course I will,” she said with a smile, setting aside her book. “Thanks again for dinner. It was very good.”

  “Takeout from the Brand and Grill,” he said with a grin as he perched on the edge of her bed. “Dining at its finest.”

  “I enjoyed it. I enjoy anything I don’t have to make myself.”

  Noah glanced around the room, unable to quash the feeling that he was invading his mother’s privacy. His parents’ bedroom was the one room in the house that was off-limits to him, and he was only allowed in by invitation.

  “Too bad I came back so late. We could have gone out for a walk after supper,” he said.

  “That’s okay. I’m looking forward to our trip to the Farmer’s Market.” She gave him a sly smile. “Maybe Shauntelle made some chocolate cake after you said it was your favorite.”

  “I highly doubt Shauntelle cares one way or the other that I like chocolate cake.”

  His mother’s expression grew serious. “I know that family doesn’t think highly of you, but I’m sure Shauntelle knows better.”

  Noah thought of the “evil man” comment Millie had made, and the anger simmering in Shauntelle’s eyes. “I’m not so sure. Besides, it doesn’t matter what she thinks.”

  “I’m glad you could help her get all her deliveries done though.”

  He should have known that his mother wasn’t going to leave the subject of Shauntelle alone. To his surprise, they hadn’t talked about her at suppertime. Instead, his mother had brought him up-to-date on all the comings and goings of the Walsh clan. Cord’s wedding and Morgan’s future one, and now his other cousin, Nathan, was engaged as well. All this was delivered with a careful sigh directed to Noah.

  He easily read the subtext. When would he get married?

  “I’m glad I could too,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “And the entire time I got a running commentary from Millie about all the people we brought the baking to.”

  His mother chuckled. “Those girls are quite the pair. For twins, they sure are different though. Millie is such a pistol, and Margaret is so quiet.” Then she grew serious, her dark eyes suddenly intent. “And how was Shauntelle with you?”

  Noah held her gaze for a few beats, then sighed and looked away, knowing what she was referring to. “Uptight. Tense. Angry. I think she would have preferred not to accept my help, but she was stuck.”

  His mother covered his hand with hers, squeezing lightly. “Don’t take it personal, son. She’s had a lot to deal with recently. It has to be hard being a widow and taking care of her children. Roger Dexter was a good man, and I’m sure she misses him.”

  He noticed that she deliberately left Josiah out of the conversation. As if she wasn’t sure where to put the death of Shauntelle’s brother either.

  “Roger died in Afghanistan, didn’t he?” Noah continued, sticking with an easier topic.

  His mother nodded. “He often worked overseas. In fact, he was working with Doctors Without Borders when he was killed. He wasn’t military, but in my mind he was a real hero.”

  “Sounds like it,” Noah said, though even as he spoke the words a small part of him wondered why anyone would want to leave a wife and twin girls behind. If he had a family, he would never stay far away from them. He’d keep them close.

&
nbsp; If.

  The closest he had come to settling down was with Holly, his former fiancée. But somehow, after he proposed, things changed. She became more demanding of him and his time. Which made him wonder what would have happened on the job site that day if he hadn’t given in to her constant pleas to be doing something, going somewhere. Would that have stopped Josiah from going up on that man lift? Would he have maybe given him yet another safety lesson just to make sure?

  “You look pensive,” his mother said, poking him gently.

  “I do that to put people off,” he said, once again pushing his memories down. “My dark hair and glowering eyes keep people away.”

  “You shouldn’t do that, you know.” She spoke quietly, smiling, but Noah heard the faint warning in her voice. “Keep people away. I know that Josiah’s death has affected you more than you admit, but you weren’t found to be at fault.”

  Maybe not, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty that he hadn’t been there. He caught her concerned look again and forced a smile. “I know. But that doesn’t change what happened to him. Or how his family feels.”

  Shauntelle’s strong reaction to him earlier still stung.

  “They just need time.” She patted his arm. “So how long are you sticking around?”

  He held her yearning gaze, feeling the weight of all the years he had stayed away dropping on his shoulders. “I had figured on staying until Cord’s wedding. Then I’m off to Vancouver to see about a new business.” He hadn’t made a final commitment yet, but his mother didn’t need to know that.

  She gave him another one of her pensive looks. “I wish I could think of something that could make you consider staying. Permanently.”

  Another picture of Shauntelle flashed into his thoughts. She had always been attractive, but she was older now, and even though life had dealt her some harsh blows she was, if possible, even more beautiful than she had been when he left Cedar Ridge.

  As quickly as the memory came, he dismissed it. Shauntelle, with her hero husband and banked anger, was out of reach.