ironic, because she’d enjoyed her date with him even more than the first ones. After dinner, they’d walked along the river while the sun dropped low in the sky and cast a rosy light over the landscape.
When she’d described the setting to Tara, her sister had made a dry comment about Carl devising the ideal romantic moment, only to quickly apologize. They hadn’t discussed men that much, but Lauren suspected that neither of them had a stellar record.
“I heard that you and Sheriff Stanfield went out this weekend,” Ethel Carter commented as Lauren took her blood pressure.
The nurse had taken it earlier, but the first check was always high. Mrs. Carter got stressed when she walked into the clinic, a case of white-coat syndrome, as it was called. Some medical professionals discounted the condition, but Lauren was a believer.
“Where did you hear that?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Virginia was at the senior center exercise group this morning. Her daughter lives in Windy Bluffs and saw you at the Mexican restaurant. It’s nice that you’re still going out together.”
Great. Gossip was the last thing Lauren needed. Emily had warned her when she’d moved to Schuyler that it was the most popular form of entertainment in town.
“We’re friends,” Lauren said as though it didn’t matter very much. It was true. She and Carl were friends. “Are you taking your blood pressure medicine every day?”
“Whenever I remember.”
“It’s important to be consistent, okay? We can talk about ways to make that easier at your next appointment.”
“Of course, dear. Did you and the sheriff have a nice evening together?”
“La Bonita is a terrific restaurant, and their fresh salsa is fantastic. I’m going to take my sister there soon.”
Ethel looked disappointed and might have tried probing further, but Lauren patted her shoulder and handed over several prescription refills.
“Keep up the exercise,” she instructed. “It’s obviously doing you good.”
Ethel’s face creased into a smile. “I only started because you kept urging me to try. I do feel better. The arthritis doesn’t hurt as much, and I have more energy.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Lauren went on to her next patient, hoping she wouldn’t have to field more questions about her and Carl Stanfield. It could get really old, really fast.
* * *
TARA SPENT THE remainder of the morning cleaning out the rest of the file cabinets and emptying cupboards of equipment that had nothing to do with office work. Most of it couldn’t have been used in decades, and she couldn’t even tell what some items were. She recognized spurs, of course, and rusted samples of barbed wire. The rest was pretty strange, reminiscent of medieval torture implements she’d seen in museums across Europe.
She mentioned it when Walt came in and he chuckled. “The animals might have agreed. We’re a little more modern with our methods now, but I gotta admit that I still don’t enjoy branding time. If I’d ever found those sapphires in the mountains, I might have even given up on cattle ranching and stuck with horse breeding.”
“Sapphires?” Tara exclaimed, her imagination stirring. “I didn’t know they had any in Montana.”
“They do, and my grandpa used to say his dad once found some on the Boxing N. As a kid I searched plenty and finally gave up.”
“A treasure hunt. Exciting.”
“True. It was great fun.” The old man’s eyes gleamed with the memories.
Walt had brought her more boxes, and when he’d left again she began filling them, taking digital photos of each item. If she could have identified everything with a name, she would have merely logged them, but this was the only way she knew how to keep track. Walt probably didn’t care, but in light of the contentious relationship he had with his grandson, she wanted to keep a record of everything she did in the office.
At noon she tidied up and stepped out to the small porch, looking around for Walt. He wasn’t there, so she headed for the main house and knocked.
“Is there something you need?” Josh’s voice came from behind, startling her.
Tara turned. “Not exactly. I’m leaving and didn’t know whether the office should be locked.”
“You’re leaving? It’s only noon.”
She gave him a tight smile. “I set my own hours. And need I remind you that it isn’t any of your business?”
“I see.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you see or not. Walt knows my hours will vary depending upon my sister’s schedule and my other commitments.”
“You don’t have to work here at all,” he offered quickly.
“Yeah, I understood that the first time you mentioned it,” she returned. “Now, should the office door be locked or not?”
“I’ll lock it and have a key made for you.”
“Thank you.”
To the left of where they stood, the porch was secluded, the view of the ranch obscured by a blooming vine that released a lovely scent, teasing Tara’s senses. She could see how it might be hard to find a private outdoor space, even out in the country, and this was the kind of quiet spot where a husband and wife could steal a moment together.
Josh cocked his head. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, curiosity in his eyes.
“Oh.” She gestured at the corner of the porch. “I was just thinking how the vines must have given your grandparents a nice place to share a kiss in the middle of the day. You know, where no one else was likely to see.”
She’d made the comment specific to his grandparents, uncomfortable with the thought that any couple might find it a pleasant place for intimacies. The scent of the flowers was evocative, making her mind conjure images that didn’t belong there. After all, she wasn’t good at physical intimacy. Or any form of intimacy, for that matter.
“Nice thought, but off base, I’m afraid,” Josh responded quietly. “My grandparents led somewhat separate lives. They had little in common. Grandma came from the city, and city girls don’t adjust well to Montana ranches. I’m sure they cared for each other, but I doubt their marriage would have lasted in today’s world.”
Tara hid her shock at Josh’s blunt statement. It seemed at odds with Walt’s painful declaration about his wife earlier that morning. What had he said...that he’d have done anything for her?
Josh gave her a narrow look. “I’m only telling you because if you have a sentimental belief that Grandpa is desperately pining for his wife and needs your support, you can relax.”
“No worries,” she answered evenly. “Thanks for being original this time. Were you hoping I’d lose sympathy for Walt and want to leave?”
“That isn’t what I was doing,” he insisted, though the faint chagrin in his face told her differently. “I meant to ask before, what about all those boxes I saw my grandfather bringing to the office?” It was an obvious effort to changes the subject.
“They were for the nonoffice items. Walt is going to store them somewhere else. I couldn’t catalog the contents since I didn’t recognize most of the stuff, but I took pictures so there would be a record.”
“Isn’t that overkill?”
“It seemed best under the circumstances. Uh... Walt told me there might be sapphires on the Boxing N.”
“That’s a family myth. I ordered a survey ten years ago, and there’s nothing here.”
“Surveys can be wrong.