Chapter 2

Chase Montgomery entered his coordinates into the GPS to check his location. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it could sometimes be hard to tell how far he'd come since the last sign. Next time he would remember to check the odometer.

Dammit! Still eighty-eight miles to get to his ranch. He needed a break from his nonstop drive from Colorado. Heading back from the big horse sale in Denver, he was beat and anxious to get to his home not far outside the small town of Saddle Creek, Wyoming. He needed to stable the new horses whinnying impatiently in the trailer, who were just as desperate for a break, too.

His backside was numb and the rumbling in his belly reminded him of Rosie's Diner. His mouth watered thinking about the restaurant's belly-filling comfort food they served. He decided to stretch his legs and grab some food from his favorite stop.

A few miles later, he parked the truck and trailer outside the back door of the family diner. He shoved the truck door open and inhaled. After more than a week of leather and horse odor, the warm, welcoming aroma of hot, fresh coffee and home-cooked food assaulting him was refreshing. After saying hello to some friends, he moseyed up to the counter. "Susan." He nodded to the manager.

She waved. "Welcome back, Chase. Where have you and your buddies been? Haven't seen any of you for a while."

"Ranching. Just workin' and ranchin'." He perched on a barstool at the counter, plopped his hat on his right knee, and picked up a menu out of habit. He already knew what he wanted to order. The homemade meatloaf, dripping with ketchup and juices, the mashed potatoes, so real and fresh that he didn't mind at all if there were a few little lumps in them, and everything smothered with a rich, savory gravy he could have eaten out of a bowl like soup, it was so tasty.

* * * *

Lauren smiled. Since Rosie's was the only eatery around for miles, many of the locals, as well as people passing through, had to frequent the place.

She was pleased with her nice, private room upstairs. It was simple and homey. It had everything she needed, a queen-size bed with extra linens, a desk and chair along one wall and a dresser that sat beneath two small windows. A full bath supplied with towels and washcloths completed her personal space.

Over the last week, she'd settled in and started her duties, getting to know everyone in Saddle Creek as she served them. She found she enjoyed talking to the patrons.

Saddle Creek was a small town, about ten miles from Jackson, Wyoming. It had a down-home charm feeling where everybody knew everyone and news traveled fast. People were friendly and always anxious to lend a helpful hand.

She gazed around the diner while she waited for the coffee to brew. The dark-blue tablecloths worked well with the powder-blue walls and gave the place a soothing atmosphere. A wooden railing about a foot down from the ceiling held a variety of antique cookware and knickknacks. It already felt like home.

Before long, I'll know what every one of these folks mean when they ask for "the usual."

She wasn't surprised the menus didn't get much attention. A gust of cool, spring air burst into the room when a tall, ruggedly handsome man with piercing blue eyes stepped into the diner. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through the thick blond hair lapping the collar of his blue-and-red checkered cowboy shirt.

Butterflies danced in her tummy.

He nodded at some of the other customers as he passed their table, stopping to shake hands with a few of them. She was impressed with his politeness, probably something his mama or grandmother had taught him. Lauren hadn't seen that kind of respect from a man in a long time.

Susan greeted him and called him by name. Chase. The name suited him. He undoubtedly ate here often since he seemed to know the manager and his way around.

Lauren's nerves tingled when he sat at the counter in her section.

"Honey, can you get this one?" Susan threw the question over her shoulder.

The cowboy raised his head, their eyes locked, and Lauren could barely breathe.

* * * *

Chase put the menu down and looked up. A young woman stood at the coffeemaker watching him. She was slight of build, but curvy in all the right places. Her long, light-brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, swished as she made her way to the counter.

His gaze dropped to her blue jeans covering her shapely legs, and then rose to the diner's signature dark-blue apron. Its tie strings looped around her waist twice and were tied in the front in a bow, accentuating her womanly attributes.

While she fumbled in the apron's pocket for her order form and pen, he searched her blouse for a name tag.

"Name's Chase. What's yours? I haven't seen you here before," he said.

The pretty young woman raised her head and smiled from ear to ear. "What can I get you?"

His breath caught like he'd been kicked in the gut by an ornery stallion. The pull of her striking emerald eyes intoxicated him. His instant attraction burned as hot and heavy as the scalding coffee she poured into his cup.

He was exhilarated by many thinga new horse in his stable, the feel of the air rolling across his fields, or the roar of his powerful truck enginebut something about this woman gave him a rush he hadn't felt in far too long.

His heat turned cold when he noticed the greenish-blue bruises on her face and around her neck. He curled his fingers into a fist of anger. He didn't know this woman or what trouble she'd recently run into, but something or someone had dared touch her and mark her delicate skin. The idea infuriated him.

Chase managed to shift his glare away from the bruises when she tugged at the collar of her white blouse.

"Do you know what you want, yet? If not, I'll give you a few minutes to decide."

"Uh, yeahno, I know what I want." You, and a quiet spot to kiss away those damn bruises. He shook off his desire and shelved his thoughts. "I'll have the meatloaf, please." He stuck the pointless menu back between the catsup and mustard sitting on the counter.

She stared into his eyes for a moment, then scribbled his order on her notepad, and quickly disappeared into the kitchen.

He turned to Susan standing at the cash register. "Looks like you got yourself a new waitress. She's a pretty little thing. Hope she works out for ya."

"Me, too, Chase. It's so hard to get good help. Lauren's only been here a few days, but she seems to like working here."

"Yeah. Looks to me like she's had to handle more than a body should," he mused, baiting her for more information. "What's up with all the bruises she's trying to hide?"

Susan leveled a frown at him like his mother did when he was out of line. "Where's the rest of your gang? You usually come in threes, not alone."

He laughed. "I'm just getting back from a horse sale and haven't had time to catch up with Elliott and Dillon yet. But I will soon and we'll be back. You can count on us."

Within minutes, the waitress placed a steaming plate, piled high, in front of him and pulled out a knife, spoon, fork, and napkin from under the counter. "Here you go," she said, smiling again. "Be careful. The plate's pretty hot. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Coffee'd be fine, ma'am," he said, stabbing into the thick, juicy piece of gravy-drenched meatloaf with his fork.

She laughed at his answer. "Only man I know who drinks coffee with everything he eats is my uncle Harold," she said, reaching for his cup and the pot of coffee simultaneously. She filled his cup and put it down on the counter in front of him.

"If I can get you anything else, please let me know." Chase scrutinized the new girl as she scurried around the room, dropping off orders, picking up plates, and warming up coffee. On top of being completely captivated by her delicate beauty and kind smile, he was also curious. What brought her here? What happened? Was she in an accident or did someone lay a hand on her? Whatever happened, it couldn't have been long ago. The skin around her eyes was still slightly greyish and swollen, her neck still bruised. His blood boiled. If she was beaten, what kind of monster would put his hands on a pretty little thing like her?

"Sodo you have a name?" he asked a few minutes later when she came back to top off his coffee.

Her glance darted around the room before she answered. "Of course I do." The coffee pot shook in her hand while she poured the rich brew into his empty cup. She stepped back from him like she was leaving.

He didn't want her to go just yet. He wanted to find out more about her. "Where're you from?" He sopped up the remaining gravy on his plate with a piece of bread and wondered why she seemed reluctant to give him her name.

"Back east. Why?"

The frightened look in her eyes caught him off guard. "I was only askin' 'cause I grew up 'round here, and I know just about everybody in these parts, but I don't recognize you. You planning to stay on awhile?"

"As long as I can. I love the fresh air here. It's so wonderful, sodifferent," she answered.

"Where're you staying, if ya don't mind my askin'?" He took another sip of the best coffee he'd had in a while.

"Uhwell, I've got a place." She picked up his empty plate and silverware. "Let me just take these for you."

He laid his hand on her forearm. "I'm glad to hear you'll be staying. I'm a Rosie's regular, so maybe I'll see you again." He settled his hat on his head, stood, and dug in his pocket for some dollar bills.

"That would be nice." Lauren gave him a half smile, picked up his generous tip, and walked away.