and bowed her in ahead of him. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She waited for him to take the lead and then followed him through the central foyer, past the curving staircase, to the kitchen at the back. He gestured at the breakfast area. She took a seat, bracing an elbow on the table and watching him fiddle with his new pod-style coffeemaker.
“I’ve got about a hundred different flavors for this thing....”
The morning light spilled in the window, making her skin glow and bringing out auburn gleams in her long dark hair. “Got one with hazelnut?”
“Right here.” He popped the pod in the top and turned the thing on. Thirty seconds later, he was serving her the steaming cup. “Cream and sugar?”
“I want it all. How many bedrooms?”
He got her the milk and the sugar bowl. “Three to five, depending.”
“On what?”
“I have an office down here in the front that could be a bedroom. The master also has a good-sized sitting room with double doors to make a separate space. That sitting room could be a bedroom, too.” He got a cup for himself and sat opposite her. “Not a lot of bedrooms, really, but all the rooms are nice and big.”
“More than enough for a man living alone, I’d say.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the way she’d said that. Was she goading him? “What? A single man is only allowed so many rooms?”
She laughed. “Oh, come on, Nate. I’m not here to pick a fight.”
He regarded her warily. “Promise?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She stirred milk and sugar into her cup. “I heard a rumor you’re planning on leaving town.”
“Who told you that?”
“You know, I don’t recall offhand.” She sipped. “This is very good.”
“You’re welcome,” he said gruffly.
She sipped again. “It’s odd, really. Three months ago, you moved from the ranch into town, and now people say that you’re leaving altogether.”
“What people?” He kept his expression neutral, though his gut twisted. How much did she know?
No more than anyone else, he decided. To account for his new, improved lifestyle, he’d started telling folks that he’d had some luck with his investments. But as for the real source of his sudden wealth, even his family didn’t know. Only the Kalispell lawyer he’d hired had the real story—which was exactly how Nate wanted it.
“You know how it is here in town,” she said as though she’d been living in Rust Creek Falls all her life. “Everybody’s interested in what everyone else is doing.”
“No kidding,” he muttered wryly.
“Several folks have mentioned to me that you’re leaving.”
Why not just admit it? “I’m looking for a change, that’s all. My brothers can handle things at the ranch, so my bowing out hasn’t caused any problems there. At first, I thought moving to town would be change enough.”
“But it’s not?”
He glanced out the sunny window, where a blue jay flew down and landed on the deck rail and then instantly took flight again. “Maybe I need an even bigger change.” He swung his gaze to her again, found her bright eyes waiting. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be heading back the way you came, making myself a whole new start in Chicago. I’m just not sure yet. I don’t know what the next step for me should be.”
She studied his face with what seemed to be honest interest. “You, living in Chicago? I don’t know, Nate. I’m just not seeing that.”
He thought, You don’t know me well enough to tell me where I might want to live. But he didn’t say it. She’d seemed sincere just now. And she was entitled to her opinion.
She wasn’t through, either. “I heard you ran for mayor last year—and lost to Collin Traub. They say you’re bitter about that because of the generations-long feud between the Traubs and your family, that it really hurt your pride when the town chose bad-boy Collin over an upstanding citizen like you. They say it’s personal between you and Collin, that there’s always been bad blood between the two of you, that the two of you once got into a knock-down-drag-out over a woman named Cindy Sellers.”
“Wow, Callie. You said a mouthful.” He actually chuckled.
And she laughed, too. “It’s only what I’ve heard.”
“Just because people love to gossip doesn’t mean they know what they’re talking about.”
“So none of it’s true, then?”
He admitted, “It’s true, for the most part.” Strangely, today, he was finding her candor charming—then again, today he wasn’t on his way to North Dakota to keep his annual appointment with all that he had lost.
She asked, “What parts did I get wrong?”
He should tell her to mind her own business. But she was so damn pretty and she really did seem interested. “Well, the mayor’s race?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m over that. And it’s a long story about me and Collin and Cindy, one I don’t have the energy to get into right now—and your cup’s already empty.”
“It was really good.” She smiled at him coaxingly.
He took the hint. “More?”
“Yes, please.”
Each pod made six cups. All he had to do was put her mug under the spigot and push the brew button. “You’ve collected a lot of information about me. Should I be flattered you’re so interested?” He gave her back her full cup.
She doctored it up with more sugar and milk. “I think about that day last winter now and then....”
He slid into his seat again. “I’ll just bet you do.” Especially today, when it’s time to collect.
Her big eyes were kind of dreamy now. “I wonder about you, Nate. I wonder why you had to get to Bismarck, and I keep thinking there’s a lot going on under the surface with you. I love this town more every day that I live here, but sometimes people in a small town can get locked in to their ideas about each other. What I think about you is that you want...more out of life. You just don’t know how to get it.”
He grunted. “Got me all figured out, don’t you?”
“It’s just an opinion.”
“Yeah, and that and five bucks will get you half a dozen cinnamon buns over at the doughnut shop.”
She shrugged, her gaze a little too steady for his peace of mind. Then she asked, “So, what about Bismarck?”
He was never telling her about Bismarck. And, as much as he enjoyed looking at her with all that shiny hair and that beautiful smile, it was time to get down to business. “Excuse me.” He rose and turned for the door to the foyer, leaving her sitting there, no doubt staring after him.
In his study at the front of the house, he opened the safe built into his fine wide mahogany desk and took out what she’d come for. Then he locked up the safe again and rejoined her in the kitchen.
“Here you go.” He set the two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills on the table in front of her. “I get it. You like it here. You’ve made some friends. They all say you’re an excellent nurse, kind and caring to your patients. You’re staying. I was wrong about you.”
“Yes, you were.” She sat very straight, those soft lips just hinting at a smile now. “I like a man who can admit when he’s wrong.” She glanced down at the bills and then back up at him. “And I thought I told you way