His turn. He stared her down.
“I didn’t mean to yell.” Now she kept her voice so soft and low, he could barely make out the words. “But I wasn’t arguing. I just couldn’t see what you said.”
He frowned.
Her face froze. Slowly, her eyes widened. “I don’t believe it. You don’t know, do you?” She shook her head in wonder. “You haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Figured what out?”
“I’m deaf.”
He opened his mouth and snapped his jaw closed again.
She stared at him, her eyes glinting in triumph the way they had when she had thought she’d one-upped him over taking turns with the meals.
Before he could respond, she opened the passenger door and climbed into the truck. He shook his head. Though he’d suspected she might have some hearing loss, it had never crossed his mind that she was deaf.
But she was right. He’d had enough clues to figure things out. She had jumped when he had walked up to help her unload her car. She hadn’t heard that gigantic crash in the office. And she had stared at Caleb the entire time he had talked to her yesterday.
Sometimes she even gave him her attention when he spoke.
Through the rear window of the cab, he could see her waiting, seat belt in place over her shoulder. She hadn’t wanted to ride in the truck, and now it looked as if nothing would get her out of it.
When he started the engine with a roar, habit had him reaching toward the dashboard. He froze, considered, then went ahead and turned the radio on. He always listened to the sports station.
A second later she reached out, too. Unlike him, she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she hit the scanner till whatever number she’d searched for popped up. A hard-rock station, judging by the screech coming out of the speakers. Nothing could irritate him more.
He was wrong.
She wasn’t finished.
She cranked up the volume till his ears rang and pushed the bass level to the max. He’d swear the danged windshield shivered. Clamping his jaw shut again, he rolled down his side window.
He fought not to look over at her. Why should he, when he already knew what he’d see? But to prove a point to himself for a change, he gave in and glanced across the cab.
Sure enough. Just what he’d expected. More sparkles in those big blue eyes and a wide smile on her pink mouth.
Again she thought she’d scored a mark on him.
Obviously, their situation meant only fun and games to her.
Let her play.
As he’d told her the other night, they both had jobs to do. And worrying about her didn’t make it onto any of his lists.
* * *
ELLAMAE STOOD IN the middle of the kitchen at the Whistlestop Inn and put her hands on her hips. The minute dinner was done, she and her sister, Roselynn, had had the good sense to shoo their guests and Nate out to the backyard.
Now the rest of them could get down to business.
“Ryan seems like a good man,” she stated, checking faces to make sure no one disagreed with her judgment.
“He is a good man,” Tess said.
Roselynn paused with the refrigerator door half-open. “Poor boy, he’s had a bad time of it.”
“Yeah,” Ellamae said thoughtfully. “And he’s due for a change.”
She and the other two gals looked at the only man in the room.
Caleb held his hands up as if to ward them all off. “You’ll get no argument from me, ladies. My point in bringing him down here is to give him a chance to pull himself together again. Whether he can do that or not, only time will tell.”
“Time is just what he needs,” Tess agreed.
“Being in a new environment will help,” Roselynn said.
He nodded. “That’s the whole idea.”
“I can’t imagine what he’s going through.” Tess rested her head against Caleb’s shoulder.
“Not something I’d even want to consider.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
His jaw had hardened and his eyes had gone tight. Ellamae frowned, knowing what thoughts must’ve run through his head. Caleb had gone through hard times and come out a better man for it.
His ranch foreman would do the same, with luck—and a little help from Caleb’s family.
When Tess and Caleb left the kitchen laden down with trays of mugs and the coffeepot, Ellamae glanced at her sister.
Roselynn looked back, her forehead wrinkled in concern. “He’s upset over the whole situation, El, and who can blame him? I told him he did the right thing bringing Ryan here.”
“Agreed,” Ellamae said. “All along, it sounded like the boy was a powder keg sitting up in Montana, just waiting for a match to light his fuse. But I’ve got a feeling the distractions around here are going to take him right out of himself.”
“I hope so. Although I don’t see much difference between one ranch and another.”
“It’s not the job that’s going to keep him—and us—busy.”
“Oh, no.” Roselynn shook her head. “Ellamae, he’s still grieving.”
“I didn’t say we’d get busy immediately.”
“You can’t possibly be thinking of getting up to anything.”
She gripped the damp dishcloth she’d just used to clean the counter. “For crying out loud, woman. It’s not me. Rose, sometimes, I swear you walk around with blinders on. You saw Lianne all through supper. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t see the sparks from her flying across the table?”
“How do you figure that? She didn’t say a word to him.”
“I rest my case.” She sighed. Sometimes Rose needed to be approached from a different angle. “Haven’t we said all along Lianne’s a wonderful girl?”
“Of course we have. And I want her to be as happy as Tess.” Roselynn’s face brightened. “What about Kayla and Sam’s foreman? You know Jack’s always been interested in her. And they get together whenever she comes to visit.”
She waved the idea away. “He’s a nice man but not good enough for Lianne.”
“Well, I don’t know....” Roselynn picked up the loaded dessert tray. “Ryan’s just arrived in town. He hasn’t even settled down yet.”
“He won’t get the chance to settle down.” She laughed and tossed the dishcloth into the sink. “Trust me—” And why wouldn’t anyone trust her, since she always knew what was what about everything? “—we’ll be taking things nice and easy on this one. Give those two a little time on their own out at the ranch, and Lianne will have that boy well and truly riled up.”
* * *
“WE’RE HAVING PECAN PIE,” Nate said, spinning a couple of napkin-wrapped forks on the table. “Aunt El’s best!”
Lianne smiled. Caleb’s wife, Tess, was on the quiet side, while their preteen daughter was exactly the opposite. Nate reminded Lianne of herself at that age—a bit of a tomboy and always willing to take charge.
As guests, she and Ryan had been sent outside with Nate to sit at one of the picnic tables scattered across the Whistlestop’s backyard. The girl hadn’t stopped talking since they