“Ohmigod!” Madeline cried. “Will you please stop psychoanalyzing me? I am not afraid of rejection. I am being practical!”
“Whatever,” Trudi said dismissively. “I have to go. I don’t have time to fix your life, I’ve got my own. Oh, before I forget—Stephen called Rick to talk about you. He really likes you, Madeline, and he doesn’t understand why you stopped liking him. He said he’s been talking to that lawyer friend in Denver and has some information for you. Call him!”
“Leave it alone, Trudi.”
“No, I will not leave it alone. I love you that much, Madeline Pruett, I love you like a sister, and I am not afraid of rejection. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up.
Madeline stared at her phone and muttered a few choice words about Trudi Feinstein’s bossiness under her breath. She was not afraid of rejection, for Pete’s sake. She was seventy-five percent sure she wasn’t.
She called her mother to report in. Her mother was probably on pins and needles wanting to know what had happened.…
No one answered.
She frowned; she could hear Trudi’s voice in her head saying, I told you so.
Madeline tossed the cell phone onto the bed and padded across the bearskin rug to the drapes. She opened them to a bright, clear day. She had to admit, the sky was a different, richer shade of blue than in Orlando.
Below her, people were milling about on the main street, and Madeline’s stomach growled. She would grab a bite in the café downstairs and then head out to the ranch to try and come to some agreement with Libby and Emma.
When Madeline made her way downstairs, she was surprised to see that Dani was not wearing a Guayabera shirt today, but rather, a sweatshirt that said Pine River Eagles.
“Hello!” Dani sang out as Madeline entered the small café. “I’d about given you up for dead. How’s your head?”
“Better, thanks.”
“You keep taking those aspirin and drink lots of water. You’ll adjust to the altitude in a couple of days. Want something to eat before you head back out to Homecoming today?”
Madeline had been about to say she wouldn’t be here in a couple of days, but was drawn up short by the fact that Dani knew where she was going. Dani laughed at her look of surprise. “I’ll just bet you think I’m one of those small-town busybodies you read about in beach novels. Well, I’m not. It so happens that Jackson Crane was in for breakfast.”
“Oh.”
“Just take a seat where you like, sweetie,” Dani said. “I’ll be right back to take your order.
“Thanks,” Madeline said, and turned around—and almost collided with a table inhabited by Luke and an older man.
She gasped; Luke glanced at his wristwatch. “Sleep in?”
“Wow, Luke, this is the fourth coincidental meeting in less than forty-eight hours. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I’m having lunch with my dad. Dad, this is Maddie Pruett,” he said as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
“Madeline,” she said curtly.
“Madeline,” he said with a polite incline of his head. “This is Bob Kendrick.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Pruett.” He was an older version of Luke—his hair had grayed and dark circles shadowed his eyes, but they were the same gray, thick-lashed eyes as Luke’s, the same strong chin, the same broad shoulders. “I don’t know about the other meetings, but this is my favorite breakfast joint.”
She eyed Luke suspiciously. “How did you know I was staying here?”
Luke smiled as he slowly stood up, towering over her, standing so close that she could see the pearl in the buttons of his shirt. He fished a couple of bills out of his pocket and tossed them down on the table. “I didn’t. It’s lunchtime. My dad and I came for lunch. Try the Cobb salad; it’s the best thing on the menu. Dad, are you ready?”
“I am,” he said, and stood up, too, also towering over Madeline. He fit a cowboy hat on his head and gave Madeline a nod as he walked out.
Behind him, Luke leaned in and whispered, “Pine River is a small town, Blue Eyes. People run into each other.” He walked on. At the entrance to the café, he paused to pick up a toothpick. “Thanks, Dani!” he called toward the kitchen, and went out without looking back at Madeline.
Madeline watched him leave—okay, watched his hips leave—and feeling fluttery again, she sat heavily at a table next to the one he and his father had just vacated. As she tried to sort out his angle this time, she absently ordered the Cobb salad.
Luke was right. It was excellent.
On her way to Homecoming Ranch, Madeline tried her mother again, catching her on the third ring. “Mom! It’s Madeline!”
“Hi honey,” her mother said. “What’s up?”
“I thought you’d want to hear about Colorado.”
“Who?”
“Colorado! You know, the ranch I inherited?”