Courting the Enemy. Sherryl Woods

didn’t have a specific destination in mind.

      Okay, so what if she was running away? She had a right to, didn’t she? Her home wasn’t her own anymore, not with Grady evidently intending to pop up like a stubborn weed every time she turned around.

      Sitting across the kitchen table from him the night before had rattled her more than she liked. Other than inflicting his presence on her in the sneakiest way possible, he hadn’t been the least bit pushy. The subject of the ranch had hardly arisen at all.

      Instead, he had been attentive and lighthearted. The conversation had been intelligent. All in all, he had been very good company. He’d flattered her some, reminding her that it was nice to receive a compliment from a man every now and again.

      Just not from this man, she scolded herself. Nothing out of Grady’s mouth could be trusted. It was all a means to an end, and that end was taking the Hanson ranch away from her, whether he actually mentioned his desire to buy the place or not.

      Funny, that was how she thought of the ranch, not so much as her own but as still belonging to the Hansons, with her merely its guardian. These days the duty was weighing heavily on her shoulders.

      A pale, shimmery sun was trying to sneak over the horizon as she drove onto Main Street in Winding River and headed straight for Stella’s. Not only would the coffee be hot, but Cassie was likely to be working. Cole had chafed at her decision to stay on after the wedding, but Cassie had been insistent. In Karen’s opinion, even now, with things between Cassie and Cole improving and Jake thrilled to be living with his long-lost dad, her old friend didn’t trust that the marriage was going to last. Cassie wanted the security of her own money and a familiar job. Since Cole worked at home, he was there when nine-year-old Jake got home each day, but even if he hadn’t been, Cassie would have found a way to remain independent.

      “My gracious, you must have been up with the birds,” Stella greeted her when Karen walked through the door.

      “Before most of them,” Karen said.

      “Something on your mind?” the woman asked as she poured coffee and set the cup in front of her. “Won’t be anybody else in here for a few minutes yet. I could listen.”

      Karen hesitated, then nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

      Stella sat down across from her. She had known all five of the Calamity Janes since they were in grade school, which was when she’d first opened the restaurant. With her ready smile, huge heart and nonjudgmental demeanor, Stella had been mother and friend and mentor to all of them at one time or another. She was playing the same role for another generation now.

      “Okay, what is it?” Stella probed. “You still grieving over Caleb?”

      “Yes, of course,” Karen said a little too hastily, as if she had something to prove. “He’s only been gone a little over half a year.”

      Stella’s gaze narrowed. “The way you said that, all defensive when I just asked a simple question…it’s another man, isn’t it? You’re attracted to someone and you’re feeling guilty?”

      “No,” Karen denied heatedly, then flinched under Stella’s steady gaze. “Okay, maybe. It’s just that there’s this man who wants the ranch. He’s been pestering me.”

      “Grady Blackhawk,” Stella said at once. “I’ve heard all about it.”

      “From Cassie, I imagine.”

      “From her and from Grady himself. He comes in here from time to time.”

      Karen thought of their conversation the night before. “For the meat loaf?”

      Stella grinned. “That man does love my meat loaf. Of course, he’s also partial to chicken-fried steak and pot roast. Any man who drives as far as he does for my food is either close to starving or he genuinely likes it.”

      “You sound as if you approve of him.”

      “I do,” Stella said, regarding Karen closely. “Why does that surprise you?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I know. It’s because there was bad blood between him and Caleb.”

      “Can you think of a better reason?”

      “Sure. One that you came up with on your own after giving the man a chance.” She studied Karen gravely. “I think maybe that’s what’s bothering you. You’re kind by nature. You give most people a fair chance to prove themselves. A second chance when it’s called for. You’re not doing that with Grady, and it doesn’t sit well with you.”

      “Maybe that’s right,” Karen admitted. It was true that she liked to form her own opinions about people. And she’d never taken the view that a husband and wife had to have the exact same friends—so why was she so determined to make Caleb’s enemy into her own?

      Because Caleb was dead, of course. Who would stand up to Grady if she didn’t do it? And it wasn’t about personalities, anyway. It was about the ranch.

      “Are you going to sell the ranch to Grady?” Stella asked, getting to the point.

      “No,” Karen said.

      “Then what’s the problem? Sounds to me as if your decision is made and it’s final.”

      “He…” She regarded Stella with the helpless feeling of a teenager admitting to a crush. After a minute, she gathered her courage and said it. “Grady bothers me.” It felt surprisingly good to get the words out, words she hadn’t been able to manage to her oldest friends, even when they’d given her ample opportunity to say them.

      A grin tugged at Stella’s lips. She didn’t look the least bit shocked. “Is that so? Now, if you ask me, you’ve just admitted to being a full-fledged, red-blooded female. That man is something to look at. Ain’t a woman living who would deny feeling her senses go into overdrive when he walks into a room.”

      “Really?” Karen asked hopefully. “Then I’m not being disloyal to Caleb’s memory?”

      “Sweetie, I would tell you the same thing if Caleb were still alive and sitting right here across from you. There’s not a thing wrong with looking at a fine specimen of a man. Now doing something about it is a whole other story.” Her gaze narrowed. “You thinking of getting involved with Grady? Is that the way things are moving?”

      “Absolutely not,” Karen said fiercely. She had never allowed her thoughts to stray beyond admitting to an attraction. And she wouldn’t permit herself to go any further.

      Stella chuckled. “Then you might want to temper that protest just a little. Sounds a little too emphatic, if you know what I mean.”

      Unfortunately, Karen knew exactly what she meant. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

      “Not yet, but you could be looking at it,” the older woman said. She reached across the table and patted Karen’s hand. “And to tell the truth, I don’t think that would be such a bad thing. There’s no set timetable for grieving, not like in the old days, when people were expected to put everything on hold for a full year of mourning. Life goes on, Karen. It’s meant for living. Caleb wouldn’t begrudge you happiness. Just be sure the timing is right for you, not Grady.”

      “It’s wrong,” she said, as much to herself as to Stella. “Caleb hated him.”

      Stella gave her a serious look. “Meaning no disrespect to your husband—he was a good boy and a fine man—but he held on to grudges that weren’t his. Don’t you do the same.”

      Before Karen could ask what Stella had meant by grudges that weren’t Caleb’s, the door opened and the first rush of morning customers came in, bringing cold air and shouted pleas for hot coffee with them.

      “Just think about what I’ve said,” Stella said as she stood up. “I’ll bring you your breakfast in a minute. Let me get these heathens settled down first.”

      “I haven’t ordered,” Karen pointed out.