Out of the Storm (Buckhorn, Montana #1) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,24
were things in this world that couldn’t be explained.
Maybe it was no coincidence that the rental car had broken down outside of this particular town or that she’d heard the sound of the sander and had gone down that alley to look inside the old carriage house. Hadn’t she always known in her heart that he was out there somewhere? Hadn’t she prayed that she would see him again?
How could she just leave? Her heart ached with the belief that she’d found him because he needed her. What had he been through the past twenty years? She thought of the burns on his neck and throat. Were his true scars much worse?
Bessie had made it sound as if she knew nothing about Jon Harper. Surely someone in this town knows more about him, she thought. She needed to know where he’d been all these years. Kate remembered seeing that man coming from Jon’s workshop the other morning.
Leaving a message for Collin saying she’d gone out, she pulled on her warm clothing and headed out the door and into the Montana winter.
“You must be happy,” Bessie said when Kate walked into the café minutes later, shaking snow off her hat and coat. “Heard the part came in for your car. Bet you’re ready to get out of here. Not many people can take Buckhorn in the winter. Too far from the big city, too cold and too isolated. Too far from sunny Arizona,” she said as she filled the coffee cup Kate had turned over when she’d sat down in the empty booth.
“Do you have a minute?” Kate asked.
The older woman looked leery but slid into the opposite side of the booth, saying, “I’ve got blueberry muffins in the oven. They’ll be ready in a few minutes. But I can sit for a moment. Don’t leave without me packing you a couple for the road.”
Kate didn’t know how to ask, and fortunately for her, she didn’t have to. The man she’d seen coming out of Jon’s shop passed in front of the café window. A moment later, he entered the café on a gust of cold air and snow.
Bessie looked up, her whole face lighting up. “Hey, Earl Ray,” she called.
For a moment Kate was taken aback at the expression on the older woman’s face. If that wasn’t love, she had no idea what was. “Who is that?” she asked.
“Earl Ray Caulfield,” she said with obvious admiration. “He’s our local war hero and one of the nicest men you’d ever want to meet.”
Kate glanced at Earl Ray, who had taken a seat at the counter. Like Bessie, he seemed to be in his mid-to late-sixties. He was a big man, strong-looking with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. He looked in good shape for his age. The young pregnant waitress was pouring him some coffee and visiting with him. Kate noticed that he had a nice laugh, and it was clear that Bessie wasn’t the only one enchanted with the man.
A timer went off in the kitchen. Bessie rose. “I’m sorry. Was there something you needed?”
“I just wanted to thank you for the cinnamon rolls. They were delicious.”
The older woman nodded. “Glad you enjoyed them. Don’t forget the blueberry muffins I’m sending with you. I hope the rest of your trip is less eventful.” With that she hurried off.
Kate ordered the breakfast special when Lindsey came over. While she waited, she eavesdropped on Earl Ray’s conversations with both Bessie and Lindsey and anyone else who came or left. Clearly, everyone liked him.
When her meal came, she ate, realizing that she was starved. Bessie and Earl Ray were visiting at the counter. From the difference in last names, she assumed the two weren’t married. But there seemed to be some definite chemistry between them. She assumed that he wasn’t married because no one asked after his wife. So, what was the story between Bessie and him? Those thoughts distracted her from thinking about Danny while she waited for Earl Ray to finish his coffee and head home.
* * *
COLLIN KNEW IT was too early for a drink, but that didn’t stop him. He walked through the snow to the far end of town to the bar. The bar sign was on, and he could hear music as he pushed open the door. Brushing off snow, he shrugged out of his coat and moved to the bar to drape the snow-covered coat over a stool before taking the one next to it.