Fortune's Heart. Leanne Banks
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ranch, but a baby brings you to your knees.”
Colton scowled at her. “I can shoot a bear.”
Both Stacey and her mother erupted with laughter. “We should give him a break,” her mother said. “Y’all enjoy yourselves.” She lowered her voice. “Drink a beer for me.”
“Mama,” Stacey said, shocked.
“Oh, stop. Even a mother of seven likes to kick up her heels every now and then. See you later,” she said, and returned to the kitchen.
Stacey met Colton’s gaze. “I never expected that.”
“Me either,” Colton said, then lifted his lips in a crafty grin. “But I liked it.”
Colton helped her into his truck and drove into town. “So, have you figured out what you want on your burger? Cheese, onions, mustard...”
“Cheese, mustard, grilled onions and steak sauce,” she said. “I don’t need the whole burger. I want the bun and fixin’s.”
“And French fries?” he asked.
“Yes, indeed,” she said.
“We can take the burger into the bar if you want your beer with your meal,” he said.
“The bar is loud,” she said. “I can have a soda or water with my burger. It will be nice to hear myself think.”
“Does your baby scream that much?” he asked.
Stacey shook her head. “Piper’s much better now that she’s done with her colic. But now she’s teething. I need to remember to soothe her gums. I forgot today.”
“Must be hard. All that crying,” he said.
“She sleeps well at night and usually takes a good long nap. I’m lucky she’s not crawling right now. She’s really a good baby, Colton. I could have it much harder,” she said, wanting Colton to like Piper.
“Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“Is my Mama right? Are you afraid of Piper?” she asked in a singsong voice.
“I’m not afraid of a baby,” he said, his tone cranky. “I just haven’t been around babies very much.”
Stacey backed off. She wanted the evening to be pleasant. “How do you like your burger?”
“As big as I can get it. Mustard, mayonnaise, onion, pickle, lettuce and tomato,” he said.
“You can have half of mine,” she offered.
“We’ll see. Maybe your appetite will improve now that you’re out of the pen,” he said.
She laughed, but his teasing made her feel good. “You are so bad.”
“And you are so glad,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said. She couldn’t disagree.
Colton pulled into the parking lot of The Horseback Hollow Grill, and he helped her out of his truck. His gentlemanly manners made her feel younger and more desirable. They walked into the grill and had to wait a few minutes for a table. Maybe more than one person needed an escape tonight, Stacey thought.
They sat, ordered, and the server delivered their sodas. Stacey took a long, cool sip of her drink and closed her eyes. “Good,” she said.
“Simple pleasures are the best,” Colton said.
Stacey looked at Colton for a long moment and shrugged her shoulders. “So, talk to me about grown-up stuff.”
His eyes rounded. “Grown-up stuff?” he echoed.
“Yes,” she said. “Movies, politics, current events.”
“Well, politicians are as crooked as ever. There are blizzards and tsunamis. Wait till summer and there will be hurricanes, mudslides and fires.” He grimaced. “I hate to admit it, but I haven’t seen a movie lately. Rachel is watching the reality shows. I watch a lot of the History Channel,” he said.
“What about movies?” she asked. “Do you like James Bond?”
He nodded. “I did see the most recent one. Lots of action.”
“And lots of violence,” she said.
“Yeah, but the good guy wins.”
“That’s most important,” she said, and the server delivered their meals.
“That was fast,” she said.
“Burgers are what they are known for,” Colton said, and took a big bite out of his.
Stacey took a bite of her own and closed her eyes to savor a burger someone else had cooked for her. “Perfect amount of mustard and steak sauce,” she said. “But all I need is half.”
“You sure about that?” Colton teased, taking another big bite.
“I’m sure,” she said, and enjoyed several more bites of her burger. She ate a little more than half and stopped. “Oh, no. Now I’m full. How can I eat the fries? Let alone drink a beer?”
“You need to learn to pace yourself,” Colton said as he stared at his fries.
Stacey liked the wicked glint in his eyes that belied his practical advice. “Maybe I should fix some fences. Maybe that would help my appetite,” she said, unable to force herself to eat even one French fry.
“Relax. We can hit the bar in a few minutes. There’s no rush. Rest your belly,” he said.
Not the most romantic advice, but Stacey stretched and took a few deep breaths. “I may have to take lessons from you on pacing myself.”
“I’m available for hamburger-eating pacing lessons,” he said with a mischievous grin that made her stomach take an unexpected dip.
A few minutes later, Stacey gave up on her fries, and she and Colton walked to the connecting bar. Colton ordered a couple of beers, and Stacey took a sip. Country music was playing in the background. If she closed her eyes, she could almost time travel back to over a year ago when she and Joe had just gotten engaged. She’d been unbelievably happy. Her future had been so bright. She’d clearly been a big fool.
Stacey hiccupped. “Oh, my,” she said and hiccupped again.
“Drink too fast?” he asked.
“I didn’t think so,” she said, but hiccupped again. “It’s just been so long since I sat down and drank even half a beer.”
“Maybe you need one of those sweet mixed drinks,” he said. “I’m not sure the bartender here can do that for you.”
“It depends on whether he has vodka or not. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t keep cranberry juice on tap.”
Colton laughed. “You’re right about the cranberry juice. I see Greg Townsend over there. He’s the president of the local ranchers’ association. Do you mind if I have a word with him?”
“Please, go ahead,” she said. “Let me catch my breath.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” he said.
Stacey closed her eyes, took a breath and held it. She counted to ten. Memories of how foolish she’d been with Joe warred with her enjoyment of her evening with Colton.
“Can I buy you another beer?” an unfamiliar male voice asked.
Stacey opened her eyes to meet the gaze of a man she didn’t know. “Excuse me?” she said. He was tall and wore a Stetson. He also had a beard. She wasn’t a big fan of beards.
“Can I buy you another beer?” he repeated, extending his hand. “I’m Tom Garrison. I haven’t seen you around here before. I work at the Jergen’s ranch.”
“Oh, I know the