I need from Dr. Lee for my story.”
Odell studied him. “Good.”
Garrett tried not to take offense, but it was difficult.
“Quit poking at him, Odell.”
“Just don’t want him getting any ideas.” He gave Garrett another hard stare. “I’m a man. I know how they think. Woman alone.”
She shook her head in response but didn’t say more.
Holding on to his temper, Garrett asked, “Mr. Waters, would you mind being interviewed for my story?”
“Thought you were here to talk to Colt.”
“I am, but Ms. Lee said you and her grandfather founded Paradise. My readers might be interested in hearing a bit about that, as well.”
Odell grumbled for a moment before responding, “Ain’t saying yes. Ain’t saying no. Let’s see how you get along with folks first.”
Garrett’s eyes met Spring’s. Hers revealed nothing. “Okay, sir. I’ll ask again at another time.”
Odell turned to Spring. “How’d Ed’s foaling go?”
She replied softly, “Not well. Foal was stillborn.”
Odell’s blue eyes showed sympathy. “How’s the mare?”
“He may lose her, too.”
“Sad news. Was Colt there to help?”
“No. He was up at Rock Springs. Not sure if he’s back yet or not.”
Garrett had hoped to conduct his interview and promptly return home. He hadn’t considered medical emergencies, a blizzard, or snow-clogged roads. Also not considered was a woman he wanted to know more about, and an insulting old curmudgeon Garrett wished would put on his snowshoes and depart.
Odell asked Garrett, “Where’s home?”
Garrett told him.
“You ever been West before?”
“No.”
“Figured that. You losing your seat and all.”
Garrett shot him a look.
“Odell,” Spring cautioned.
“Good thing he won’t be staying,” the undaunted Odell continued. “Man can’t handle his horse should stick to those fancy back-East streetcars.”
“Are you always this rude?” Garrett asked, glaring.
“Depends.” But Odell was smiling. “Just wanted to see how long you’d let me poke at you, newspaper fella. Good to see it wasn’t long.”
Garrett wasn’t sure how to respond but was glad he’d passed the test.
Odell pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Garrett nodded. A glance Spring’s way showed a small smile above her raised coffee cup.
Spring walked Odell to the door. After returning and seeing the displeasure Garrett didn’t bother masking, she said, “Don’t mind Odell. He’s my godfather and likes to needle. The day my sister-in-law arrived from Arizona, she shot my brother. Odell teased her mercilessly.”
Shocked, Garrett echoed, “She shot your brother?”
“Yes. Mistook him for an outlaw.”
“Do you think she’d let me add that to my story?”
“Only Regan speaks for Regan.”
He was now anxious to meet the doctor and his wife. “That’s quite a tale.”
“My brother will never live it down.”
“Was he seriously injured?”
She shook her head. “She plugged him in the shoulder. He was fine.”
Garrett wanted to know more but knew not to pepper his hostess with the dozens of questions the story had given rise to. He’d learn all, eventually. He hoped.
She began clearing the table. “Thanks for breakfast. How’s your knee?”
“Better.” Where he came from it was considered ill-mannered to discuss bathing in front of women, so he said simply, “Thanks for lighting the boiler.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I can help you clean up in the kitchen. My knee’s strong enough, as long as I don’t stand too long.”
She eyed him dubiously.
“I know how to wash and dry dishes. I live alone and since I can’t afford a housekeeper I do all the cooking and chores myself.”
“Am I going to have to put up with a load of nosy questions?”
He smiled wryly. “Yes, if you don’t mind.”
She didn’t appear pleased. “Come on, then.”
Spring’s kitchen was perfect for one person. For two, it was crowded. Especially with a man as tall and broad as McCray. She washed. He dried. Their shoulders bumped as he placed the dried dishes in the cupboard beside her. Their hands grazed as she handed him dishes to dry. As promised, he asked a wagonload of questions, which she preferred to deal with rather than why their accidental touches kept sending unnerving little sparks up her arms. His questions began with wanting to know the name of the mountain range, then to how long she’d lived in her cabin. “About twelve years now. Place used to belong to Odell. He and his family lived here when Colt and I were growing up.”
She saw him survey the walls and ceiling and she wondered if he was evaluating them with a carpenter’s eye.
“Did he build this himself?”
“Yes, with help from friends like my grandfather. All of the old trappers built their own places.”
“Is your grandfather still living?”
“Yes.” She handed him a wet