Beau: Cowboy Protector

“You didn’t tell my mom, did you?”

“No. I thought you and Ace should be the ones to tell her if you think she should know. I was worried the news might upset her.”

“Is he okay?”

“Hard to say. I asked when he was coming home, but he didn’t know.”

Colt stubbed the ground with the toe of his boot.

“I suggested he call your mom, but—” Beau shrugged.

“I’m not one to judge. I didn’t always uphold my share of responsibility around the ranch through the years, but I kept in touch with my mother. The least Tuf can do is call home once in a while.” Colt hopped into the front seat of the truck. “Thanks again for your help.”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the movies.”

After Colt departed, Beau stood in the cold, staring into the distance. Today was Sunday and he had a hankering for beef sirloin tip roast—Sunday special at the Number 1. He’d return to the house and help his father with ranch chores, then shower and head into town to do some more chasing…of the two-legged variety.

Chapter Three

Sierra climbed the steps of the hidden staircase inside the diner’s pantry and entered her living room. There were only two ways into the upstairs apartment—the staircase and the fire escape behind the building.

“It’s me, Aunt Jordan. I brought you a late lunch—baked potato soup and a roll.” She set the food on the kitchen table.

Her aunt’s seeing-eye dog, Molly, ventured from the guest bedroom first, followed by her owner. Sierra was amazed at how quickly Jordan had learned the layout of the apartment and could navigate the space without bumping into any furniture.

“Have you been a good girl, Molly?” Sierra scratched the yellow lab behind the ears. Jordan washed her hands at the sink then sat at the table and confidently familiarized herself with the items before her—take-out soup container, wheat roll inside a paper towel, butter dish, knife and spoon.

“This was nice of you, dear.” Her aunt buttered the roll. “What time did you get in this morning? I didn’t hear you.”

“Early.” Sierra disliked being evasive but she’d been on pins and needles, worried Beau would drop by the diner and demand an explanation for her bizarre behavior last night. She owed him the truth, but facing reality took more courage than she possessed at the moment.

Hoping to dissuade her aunt from prying into her whereabouts, Sierra asked, “What did you do last night?” Several of Jordan’s friends from high school lived in the area and often invited her out to eat or shop.

“Joshua helped Irene close the diner, then we watched a movie up here.”

“Watched…?” Her aunt possessed a wicked sense of humor regarding her blindness, but Sierra didn’t see a darn thing funny about having to live in the dark.

“Joshua watched. I listened.”

Since returning to Montana, Jordan had been spending a lot of time with her old boyfriend, which Sierra couldn’t be more pleased about. She’d love for her aunt to sell her condo in Florida and relocate to Roundup.

“This tastes similar to your mother’s recipe, but there’s something different…”

“Rosemary. I used it a lot in cooking school.” Sierra poured two glasses of iced tea and joined her aunt at the table.

“Your mother was so proud when you graduated from that famous Cordon Bleu program,” Aunt Jordan said.

“Mom always envied your talent for dancing.”

Jordan reached across the table and Sierra clasped her hand. “I wish your mother were still with us.”

“Me, too.” Sierra’s parents had died in a plane crash five years ago. A former Air Force pilot and captain for United Airlines, her father had survived near misses and engine malfunctions, yet it had been a summer thunderstorm that had brought down her parents’ twin-engine Cessna while flying to their cabin along Musselshell River.

“Do you have any regrets, moving from Chicago to Roundup?” Jordan asked.

“None.” After her parents’ funeral, Sierra had decided to use her inheritance to renovate the old newspaper building in town and turn it into a diner where she could put her catering recipes to good use.

“Your mother would have loved helping you run the diner.”

Sierra was sad that she hadn’t been able to share her business venture with her parents, but at least they’d been spared the agony of watching their only child face monumental, life-altering changes. Then again, Sierra would have appreciated their support when the going got tough…tougher…toughest. At least her aunt was by her side, and Sierra hoped she would remain so for a long time to come.

“Don’t feel you have to keep me company,” Jordan said. “I imagine it’s busy downstairs.”

“Irene has everything under control.” Sierra’s second in command ran the diner like a military mess hall. Even the two high school students Sierra employed toed the line when they worked with Irene. “Mind if I ask you a personal question, Aunt Jordan?”

“Not at all.” Her aunt’s smile erased ten years from her age.

“How serious were you and Joshua when you dated in high school?”

A wistful expression settled over her aunt’s face. “We were very much in love.”

“What happened?”

“I wanted to go to college and see the world, and Joshua was content to remain in Roundup.”

“Mom said she never regretted leaving town, but I think that’s because she and Dad spent their summers at the cabin. Do you wish you would have stayed closer to home?”

“No. I needed to spread my wings. I knew if I wanted a dancing career that I’d have to move to California.”

“Then you met Uncle Bob in Sacramento.”

“And Bob showed me the world through the military.”

Did her aunt realized how fortunate she’d been to be able to see all her dreams come true before her eye disease had caused her to go blind?

You’ve seen your dreams come true.

She’d become a chef and had opened her own business, honoring her great-grandfather who’d died in a flood at the Number 1 Mine outside Roundup. But what about her wanting to marry and have children? The odds of that wish coming true were a long shot.

“What happened to your dance career after you married Uncle Bob?”

“I cut back on my performances, then eventually quit when we decided to have children. I knew I’d have to put on weight before I became pregnant.” She paused. “In the end, my weight didn’t matter. I couldn’t get pregnant.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Jordan.”

“I had just talked your uncle into agreeing to try in vitro fertilization when I noticed something wasn’t right with my eyes.”

“How old were you?” Sierra asked.