Chapter 44

“What the hell is wrong with that man?” Tabby watched as Cole lowered himself into the seat across from her and Aggie at Dawson’s only diner, the Sasquatch. Named after the mythical beast that was purported to wander through the B.C. forests so as to draw in tourists, it had been named that as long as Dawson had been a spot on the map.

Cole had gotten them in quickly, shepherded them purposefully through a midday crowd, then made damn sure he got them a table right away.

Not for his sake. She knew that, dead straight.

But for theirs.

Then when the waitress took a while to get to them, he went and grabbed a couple of glasses of ice water for them at the station, and didn’t relax until they had them. Until he’d put a little bubble of safety and protection around them.

“Where’s yours, Big Brother?”

Cole shrugged that off. “Can’t balance three at once, Sis. Not like her.” He nodded toward the young lady, hair tied back, waiting tables. “I’m good. Drink up. Get something cold and refreshing in you right away, and we’ll relax a bit.”

Even now, he was more concerned about those under his charge than his own self. Typical. Though she also noticed he kept stealing tight glances at her. Not Aggie. Her.

But now that they were settled, she saw him segue back to his own concerns. And he was angry. So angry, in fact, that he seemed to take up two seats, across from them, instead of one. Tension vibrated off him.

Aggie clutched the menu nervously, didn’t look at it. “He’s getting worse. I can’t believe he came up to you like that.”

The waitress came by and took their orders. As soon as she left, Cole spoke, soft, but with intensity. “I’ll be dropping by to see the law after this, you can be sure. I’m getting this on record.”

He fastened his warm brown eyes on Tabby. “I hate that you had to see that. Towns all have their problems, but usually Dawson is a homey place, decent. That kind of nonsense is not the norm around here. Maybe after a long night of partying and reckless drinking. That makes sense. But not mid-day, not like that. He’s really getting out of hand. Covert sabotage for months, then this.”

Tabby shook her head. “I don’t know, but something is off.”

“Yeah. He’s crazy.” Aggie stirred the coffee the waitress had just placed before her, added more sugar. “Certifiable.”

“Maybe. But there’s more than that.” She leaned back in the chair, thinking, watched as the waitress, the sole one working the busy diner, was run off her feet waiting tables, responding to hungry customers.

“What?” Cole scrutinized Tabby, and once again, being under the man’s complete attention made her heart beat that much faster. Would she ever get used to it? And he still seemed to be keeping a close eye on her mood. “You’ve seen enough idiots on your western tour, and before that too, from what you’ve told me. And you’re into psychoanalysis, it’s all through your books. What’s off to you?”

“Well, I’m not emotionally involved like you both. Not that I don’t care, and not that I’m not on your side,” she added hastily, as Aggie gave her a look. “But that can be a good thing. I can see clearer than if I was all tangled up personally.”

“That’s fair. Okay. What doesn’t fit?”

“I wouldn’t expect someone who’s trying to sabotage your ranch and who’s doing sneaky, private and criminal acts to ruin you, to be so public about wanting your land. Letting everyone know you owe him. Right after multiple acts of sabotage to your land and animals, he brazenly comes up to you in midday and verbally assaults you. For everyone to hear.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t make sense.”

Cole considered. “Well. He’s always been the bull in the china shop type. But maybe that’s exactly why he’s doing it. To take suspicion off himself.”

Tabby shook her head. “Maybe. But I can’t see him overthinking it that way. It just doesn’t fit.”

Aggie dug into the large piece of Saskatoon berry pie they’d ordered, with three forks. A communal, yet budget treat. “I feel sorry for his family.”

“Dig in,” Cole encouraged Tabby. “There’s grub back home, but I thought you—we—all needed steadying after that mess.” He turned to his sister. “You know, that stuff about his boy? That was new, Sis. Weird.”

Tabby took a forkful of the pie, enjoyed the burst of tart berries in her mouth. Took a gulp of her ice-water. “Was he always this way?”

Aggie sighed. “No. Actually, that’s a sad story. He and his wife couldn’t have kids for the longest time. Edith’s a long, lean, sad type, probably ‘cause she’s married to him. Then somehow, she got pregnant. They were so happy, they seemed almost normal for a while. They had Christopher, then four years ago, the kid got sick. It was some kind of nervous disorder, and after a bit, they had to put him in a home. It was heartbreaking. The kid can’t do almost anything for himself, and she tried to take it on, but couldn’t keep up. Not with the demands of running their own ranch. They couldn’t afford to get full time care in for him. It just about killed her.”

She sighed. “You know what one of the things she worried about the most was? How much Christopher loves horses, watching them, just spending time with them. How it soothed him, seemed to ease the stress, the pain. He always said it looked like they were dancing. She worried he wouldn’t get to do that anymore, and what would it do to him?”

Aggie took a slug of her coffee. “That tore her up, but not Quinn. He went on the way he always had. Just got louder, it seemed, after the kid left. We all overlooked it, as we knew things were bad at home. But then, he started this nonsense. A few little jabs here and there, then it began to be a regular thing. And it’s just gotten worse.” She leaned in to the two of them. “Maybe he is nuts, and it’s because of his kid. Who knows. Whatever. It’s got to stop. If he really had a claim on our land, he’d have papers. Something legal. But he doesn’t.”

Cole fished a bill out of his pocket, laid it on the table. “You guys got a couple of coins for a tip? That gal’s being run off her feet.”

“I do.” Tabby pulled out a toonie, slid it onto the table behind her water glass, added another. She was counting each one of the small coins these days, but she had food right now, and that girl was running massively for hers. “Is it always this busy in here?”

Cole nodded. “Seems to be. They got a new owner, and he’s cutting breaks and making them work longer shifts. Most of the regular girls have quit. The only ones sticking it out now seem to be those desperate for a few bucks, and even them, once they find something better, they’re gone too. See over there?” He nodded to a scrawled sign above the cash register.

Help wanted. Room to Let.

Tabby shuddered. Thank goodness she didn’t have to stand there, resume in hand, and interview with the demanding man in the back who was even now barking orders while dishing out demeaning looks to his cook and sole waitress. She felt bad for the girl, and even more grateful that Cole had offered her time at Dawson Ridges. She so appreciated it. And she was determined not to mess it up.

She had to start contributing. Right away.

Hence, she needed to get on that second book, so she could start on the not messing up. She had to contribute. Pay for her food and utilities, at least.

And that, she knew she could do. Because of that surprising book, and that reasonable contract. It wouldn’t make her rich, but it was a start, and it was money. She could barely wait to get started on the manuscript, though the plan had already been forming in her mind for weeks.

“Let’s go.” Cole stood, tipped his hat to the waitress as she wound her way past them, balancing four full plates. He peered quickly at her name tag. “Hey, Deena. Thanks, Ma’am. It’s always a pleasure to be taken care of by a gal who knows what the hell she’s doing. Thanks for making our break such a good one.”

Deena blinked, then smiled through a sudden sheen of tears. “Thanks, Cowboy. Ladies.” And she was gone, off to tend to another demanding table.