He shook off the memories, and looked out the window. The sky was still dark, but the moon was still aglow and he could see the occupied cabin about fifty yards away. He could also see a light on.
Couldn’t Brooke sleep, either, or was she afraid? His protective instincts kicked in. They were in an isolated area and she didn’t know him from Adam.
He shook his head, thinking about the crazy events of the day: the groom running off, a canceled wedding, then a long-lost sister showing up. And Brooke Harper was determined to meet her sister. Why, after all these years, hadn’t Rory and Diane told Laurel the truth about her birth?
So many questions that needed answers. Something told him that the pretty Miss Harper knew more than she was saying. “You need to call me, Rory. I can’t do anything until you give me some answers. If not for me, then to Laurel.”
Trent walked to the lone chair in the room, grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. Since he was wide awake, he might as well get some work done. Back at his place he could feed the stock. Not that he didn’t have capable men to do chores; he just needed to burn off this energy. He put on his shirt and buttoned it, then pulled on boots. He grabbed his hat off the table and headed toward the door.
Once he finished his work, he’d come back in time to make breakfast for Brooke and maybe learn some more about their pretty visitor. And with any luck Rory would call him.
* * *
ALWAYS AN EARLY RISER, Brooke was up and dressed by 7:00 a.m. in a pair of jeans, a white blouse and a navy pullover sweater. After finding Trent’s note from under her door, telling her to come to the Quinns’ kitchen for breakfast, she realized she was anxious to see him again. Of course, it was only to find out if he’d heard from Rory. Maybe the family was coming home today. Maybe she’d be meeting them in a few hours.
Right now, she would do anything for a cup of coffee. She drove the short distance up the driveway to the house and parked her car. She got out, walked up and knocked on the back door. She hated imposing on Trent Landry again, but he was her only connection to the Quinns.
“Come in,” the familiar voice called.
Once inside, she immediately smelled bacon cooking and her stomach growled in anticipation.
Standing at the stove, Trent was dressed in faded jeans and a fitted Western shirt. Oh, boy. The man was handsome, maybe not in a traditional way, but definitely in a rugged-cowboy way. If you liked the cowboy type.
He tossed her a half smile. “Good morning.”
Her insides fluttered. “Morning.”
“Coffee’s on the counter.” He nodded toward the large coffeemaker.
She walked over. “Thank you.” Maybe the caffeine-laced drink would bring her to her senses.
“What’s your pleasure?” He pointed to the open carton of eggs. “Scrambled, sunny-side up or over easy?”
She filled the mug. “Don’t feel you need to feed me.”
“I’m eating, so you might as well. It could be a long day...waiting for that phone call. After seeing you in action yesterday, I might decide to put you to work.”
She cupped the mug in her hands and inhaled the wonderful aroma. “Okay, I’ll have scrambled, but only one.”
“Good choice. Will you put some bread in the toaster?”
“Of course.” She took a sip, then reached for the loaf of whole wheat on the counter and put in four slices. Then she picked up her mug again and took a sip. “Oh, this tastes so good,” she purred.
Trent looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “Good coffee is important.”
“I agree, and I probably drink far too much. Between work and school, I needed the extra boost.”
She leaned against the counter and watched the large man’s fluid movements as he worked at his tasks. Her gaze went to the worn denim that molded his delicious backside and muscular thighs. A shot of awareness hit her like the caffeine she was drinking. Her attention moved up to his clean-shaven face and strong jaw. His dark hair was trimmed short around the ears and slightly wavy on top.
He glanced at her. “So you’re one of those who hang out in those specialty coffee places.”
She shook her head. “I wish, but my budget can’t afford their prices. I make my own coffee at home, or at work.”
He gave her another odd look.
“What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, just hoping your new job pays enough for you to splurge on an occasional fancy mocha latte.”
She went on to explain. “The job isn’t a sure thing yet. I’m one of four people they’re looking at, but I interned for them last year, and I’m hoping that works in my favor.”
He poured the egg mixture into the sizzling skillet. “What’s the job?”
“The position is for second-shift front desk manager.”
The toast popped up. “Eventually, I want to get into sales and marketing. The Dream Chaser Hotel chain is a good place to get experience.”
Trent dished out the cooked eggs and brought them to the table, then filled two glasses of orange juice while Brooke buttered the toast and stacked the slices on a plate.
He waited until she took a seat then sat down across from her. Not used to eating with someone, let alone a man who showed such manners, she decided she liked it.
Nibbling on a piece of toast, Brooke sat back as Trent dug eagerly into his pile of eggs.
He motioned to her food. “My dad used to say you’ll never grow if you don’t eat.”
“Seems you took him up on that,” she said without thinking. “I...just meant you’re a large man.”
* * *
TRENT MANAGED TO choke down his food as Brooke’s wide-eyed gaze assessed him. Damn, if he didn’t feel the heat rising between them. He swallowed again. “You need muscle for ranching.”
Brooke’s gaze moved to his chest. “I can see how that would help.”
The warmth spread to his groin. “For a lot of years the army kept me on a strict workout regimen. Old habits die hard.”
“So you lift weights.”
“Mainly I lift hay bales and wrestle a few steers.”
“You really do all that work?”
Was Brooke that innocent, or was she playing a game? Either way, she was making it impossible to concentrate...on his meal. “You do if you want to run a successful operation.”
She took a bite of eggs, and his attention went to her mouth. “I thought you were renting out fishing and hunting cabins.”
He picked up a strip of bacon and ate half in one bite. “You can do both. Rory and I raise cattle first, a mama-and-calf operation, but it’s a good idea to have another source of income, especially during the lean years. Besides, I like to hunt and fish.”
“Is this a lean year?”
“It’s not too bad. There’s been enough water and grass for the herd. Why are you so interested?”
With her fair skin he could easily see her blush. “Just curious about my sister growing up here.” She shrugged. “And I’ve lived in Las Vegas all my life. The desert is beautiful, but so different from Colorado.”
“I’m not a fan of the desert. Over the years, I saw far too much of it.” He fought to keep those memories at bay. He pointed to the window. “I prefer the Rocky Mountains