Designs on the Cowboy
Roxann Delaney
A Cowboy Fixer-UpperLoner Dylan Walker spent the last fifteen years pushing other people away. Once a showpiece of Desperation, Oklahoma, his family’s century-old ranch house has fallen into disrepair since his parents passed. Still, Dylan thinks his sister went too far in hiring a renovation expert to invade his home and his life.Peppy former prom queen Glory Andrews has her work cut out for her building a reputation as the town’s premier interior designer. The Walker job is the first big step toward reinventing herself after an ugly divorce. She can’t fail—and she won’t.Even if Dylan seems dead set against change. But Glory is doing much more than redecorating a home—she's determined to show Dylan that he can let go of the past and they can have a future together. If only the stubborn cowboy will let her!
A Cowboy Fixer-Upper
Loner Dylan Walker has spent the past fifteen years pushing other people away. His family’s century-old ranch house, once a showpiece of Desperation, Oklahoma, has fallen into disrepair since his parents passed. Still, Dylan thinks his sister went too far in hiring a renovation expert to invade his home and his life.
Peppy former prom queen Glory Andrews has her work cut out building a reputation as the town’s premier interior designer. The Walker job is the first big step toward reinventing herself after an ugly divorce. She can’t fail—and she won’t. Even if Dylan seems dead set against change.
But Glory is doing much more than redecorating a home—she’s determined to show Dylan that he can let go of the past and they can have a future together. If only the stubborn cowboy will let her!
Dylan shouted from the hall. “What the devil are you doing in there?”
The last thing Glory wanted was for him to see the room before it was completely finished.
“Just having a new light fixture hung,” she said, joining him. “Is there something you needed?”
“Yeah, you.”
Glory’s breath caught and she stared at him. She felt warm deep inside.
“There’s some delivery guy downstairs” he said, frowning. “I need his truck out of my way, now.”
It took Glory a few beats to catch up. She felt like a fool. “Of course,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t wobble. “I’ll get the guys to unload it now.”
“Good.” Dylan turned and bounded down the stairs, leaving Glory wishing she could stop the lustful thoughts she was having about him. Dylan wasn’t interested in her. Except for a few rare moments, he’d been nothing but cold and unreachable. But as she called to the boys to come help, it took more concentration than it should have to slow the pounding of her heart.
Dear Reader,
My great-aunt and her husband lived in a house that had been built in the 1890s. He was born there in 1900 and lived there all his life, until the two of them moved into town to live in the nursing home. They’re gone now, but the house still stands at the curve in the county road, a reminder to me of summer visits and holidays spent with cousins and relatives of all ages.
There was something about that grand Victorian farmhouse, handed down from one generation to the next, that fascinated me. With tall ceilings and transom windows over the doorways, a beautiful wood staircase enclosed in a room of its own and the two triangular porches where family often sat and enjoyed the summer evenings, it enthralled me each time we visited.
When it came time to write about Dylan Walker’s home, a large old farmhouse that had been passed down from one generation to the next, my aunt and uncle’s house couldn’t have been more perfect. Join Dylan and Glory as they learn just how even the saddest of memories can become the best.
Best wishes and happy reading!
Roxann
Designs on the Cowboy
Roxann Delaney
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Roxann Delaney doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t reading or writing, and she always loved that touch of romance in both. A native Kansan, she’s lived on a farm, in a small town and has returned to live in the city where she was born. Her four daughters and grandchildren keep her busy when she isn’t writing or designing websites. The 1999 Maggie Award winner is excited to be a part of the Harlequin American Romance line and loves to hear from readers. Contact her at roxann@roxanndelaney.com or visit her website, www.roxanndelaney.com (http://www.roxanndelaney.com).
In memory of Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Milt Harrington.
Contents
Chapter One (#u033720b4-98ed-580b-aac3-a4e9b7bbeebe)
Chapter Two (#uf480da60-5728-55a3-8691-9d0086d6c376)
Chapter Three (#ub2766c97-c81b-5321-b220-b368e1381423)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“So this is how you honor the memory of our parents.”
Dylan Walker didn’t bother to look up from the melting ice cube floating in the glass of amber liquid he held. Nobody but his sister talked to him that way. Because she was eleven months older than him, she thought she had the right. He usually disagreed, but at that moment, he didn’t care.
“Nice of you to drop by, Erin.”
The sound of her boot heels on the old linoleum kitchen floor grew closer. “I had a feeling it had come to this,” she said.
He detected a note of sadness in her voice, but ignored it. “It’s no big deal to have a drink, now and then.”
“It is when now and then becomes every day.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do know. You and I have been running from the same devil for all these years. It’s time to stop.”
Slamming the glass down on the table in front of him, he got to his feet. Although he was a little unsteady, he wasn’t going to let it stop him from saying what he needed to say. “I got through it this year, Erin. I stayed here and rode it out.”
In the pale glow from the yard light outside the window, he saw her nod. “I know. Luke told me. But look at yourself now. Just what kind of victory was it?”
The truth was almost more than he could take. He wanted to sit down, but he knew that if he did, she’d win. “One step at a time,” he said, without trying to hide the belligerence in his voice.
She shook her head. “You’ve taken one step forward and two steps back.”
“I’m better!” His voice seemed to bounce off the walls of the old house, taunting him, but he wouldn’t give in.
“Saying it doesn’t make it so.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed his temper wouldn’t get the best of him. When he felt more in control, he opened them to find his sister standing next to him. He towered over her more than a foot, but he knew from the stubborn glint in her eyes that she wasn’t going to put up with any of his excuses.
Her gaze bored a hole in him as she tipped her head back to look up at him. “You’ve got to let it go, Dylan. You were a kid. You can’t keep blaming yourself for the accident.”
He’d never forget the day his parents died. “They were on their way to town because of me.”
A strange look flashed over her face, and he thought he saw a slight shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter. That was then. This is now.”
“But it does—”
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” she continued, leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to clean yourself up and fix up this house.”
He managed a shrug. “A shower and some paint will do that.”
She didn’t even blink an eye. “Since I can’t count on you to do even that, I’ve hired someone who’ll be here in a few days to do what needs to be done.”
He wouldn’t let her get away with this. “And what if I refuse?”
The silence in the room was almost unbearable as she stared at him. “If you think I’m joking about this, Dylan, go ahead and try me. But here’s what’s going to happen if you don’t agree. I’ll put the house up for sale, and you can go do whatever it is you want to do with your life, even if it’s nothing. You just won’t be doing it here.”
He couldn’t believe it. “You’re kidding.”
“If that’s what you think, you’re more out of touch than I thought. You can either stay here during the renovations that will make this house become something we can all be proud of again, or you can start looking for another place to live. I’m not going to let the memory of our parents become nothing but a run-down old house.”
“You wouldn’t throw me out.”
Her eyes were hard and unforgiving, and her mouth was set in an angry, thin line. “I wouldn’t try testing that if I were you.”
Before he could think of some kind of stinging response, she’d turned to walk out the kitchen door and into the night.
“She wouldn’t dare,” he said, sinking to his chair. At least he didn’t think so.
But by the next morning, he wasn’t so sure Erin wouldn’t do exactly what she’d said she would. His sister had a mean streak that rarely showed itself, but he’d seen it last night. He hadn’t been at his mental best then, but now that he was thinking more clearly, he knew better than to take her threat lightly. And all he could do was wonder and wait for whoever it was she’d hired to show up.
He hadn’t noticed a vehicle driving into the yard the next morning, but he heard a knock on the door of the screened-in porch off the kitchen as he sat drinking his morning coffee. “It’s open,” he called out.
“Dylan?”
He looked up at the sound of the female voice to find a pretty blonde woman he hadn’t seen since high school standing in his doorway. Clearing his throat, he stood and searched for something to say. “Yeah, it’s me” was the only thing that came to mind.
“And looking just the same as you did in high school,” she said, with a smile he’d never forgotten. “You need to bottle your secret.”
He couldn’t believe he was having a conversation with Glory Caldwell. Or Glory Caldwell Andrews, he quickly corrected. The most popular girl in school, who’d been head cheerleader, Prom Queen and so many other things, actually remembered him. And he’d been...well, he’d been nobody special and never thought she knew he existed.
“What is it you have there?” She stepped inside the kitchen and picked up the paint samples he’d grabbed at Mercer’s Hardware the day before. “Paint chips?”
It was the reminder he needed to come to his senses. When he did, it was clear to him why Glory was standing in his house. “You’re the one Erin hired?”
Glory nodded. “Did she tell you how excited I am to have this opportunity? I’ve always loved your house. It’s so big and grand—”
“You remember it?” He couldn’t think of any reason she would.
Her cornflower-blue eyes widened. “Anybody who’s been around Desperation for very long knows the Walker place. Besides, you and I went all through school together. It isn’t as if we’re strangers.”
He wasn’t quite sure how to take that. As far as he knew, they might as well have been strangers. But he couldn’t very well tell her that.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
His answer was a shrug. He’d forgotten as much of his childhood as he could. “I really don’t remember.”
“I do. I remember watching you play baseball from the time we were kids.”
She did? He had a hard time believing it, but he’d never thought she was someone who said things just so people would like her.
“And you were good. Don’t you forget that, Dylan Walker.”
“Thanks.” But he didn’t mention that he hadn’t had a glove on his hand or thrown a ball for fifteen years. Nor would he ever again.
She pointed at the paint chips. “You understand that I can do much more than brush on a little paint, don’t you?”
He looked at the Creamy Ivory and Oyster samples, and all he saw was white.
“There’s so much you can do these days with color,” she said when he didn’t answer.
“Is that so?”
“Oh, yes!” She ducked her head as her cheeks turned a soft pink. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him from under her lashes. “It’s just that, well, I’m so excited to have the job of redecorating your home.”
“Yeah? So you have some ideas?”
“Maybe a few.”
He thought about it. She’d probably do a good job, but he had a bad feeling about the whole thing. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it was or why. “I’ll be honest here, Glory,” he said, trying to think of the best way to tell her he didn’t want her there. “None of this was my idea.”
Seconds ticked by before she spoke. “I understand.” Reaching into the big bag that hung from her shoulder, she frowned and shook her head. “I have a— Ah, here it is,” she said, pulling out a card. Instead of handing it to him, she walked around the table to where he stood. Smiling, she stuck the card in his shirt pocket. “Just let me know when I can start.”
He watched her turn and walk out the door. He didn’t want Glory Andrews in his house and should have told her not to bother coming back. But her arrival proved to him that his sister would stick by her word. He really didn’t have a choice. He would have to let Glory do whatever it was his sister had hired her to do.
After picking up his cup and taking another drink of coffee, he pulled out the card she’d put in his pocket and looked at it.
Glory Be Antiques and Decorating.
* * *
GLORY STOOD AT the window of the shop, looking out at the town she’d left behind almost fifteen years before. Things had changed more than she’d expected them to, but from what she could tell since returning to town two weeks ago, it was still the Desperation she remembered.
It wasn’t only the town that she was thinking about, but her encounter with Dylan Walker four days earlier. Never, never had she ever used feminine tricks to lure anyone—especially a man—into doing something she wanted. But it couldn’t be helped. She’d promised his sister, who had warned her that he wouldn’t be receptive, that she would find a way to get Dylan to agree to let her restore and redecorate the house where Erin and her two brothers had grown up. Erin had explained that it needed some updating, but she didn’t trust Dylan to do it, much less do it right.
She hadn’t heard anything from Dylan since then, and she was beginning to worry. Erin was counting on her—and had paid her a hefty retainer she desperately needed. Even so, she didn’t feel right about barging into the house and taking over without his approval. And she sure hadn’t gotten that.
The sound of footsteps coming down the old wooden stairs that led to the upper floor of the building dragged her back to the present. Pushing her apprehension about the job aside, she hoped she didn’t appear worried.
“Did I hear the door?”
Putting a smile on her face, Glory turned around. “It was me, Gram. I stepped out for a little fresh air.” She hated having to tell a lie, but it couldn’t be helped. She didn’t want Gram to worry. “Did you find what you were looking for up there?”
Louise Gardner, wearing a pair of denim pants and an old shirt, appeared from behind a dusty curtain hiding the short hallway that led to the stairs. “No, but I found a lot of other things.”
“Is that good or bad?”
Her grandmother smiled and touched her light-colored graying hair. “Oh, I suspect it’s good. I’d forgotten your grandfather took to storing so much up there. Now that you’ve decided to open up an antiques shop along with your decorating, you won’t have to go looking for nearly as much to fill it with.”
“That is good news. If I don’t have to go out hunting for items to resell, it’ll save me time and money. So where do we start?”
“It’s up to you,” Louise said with a shrug. “We could go through what’s upstairs and weed out what’s good and what would be better thrown away.”
Glory moved to stand by the wood-burning stove that had once been in her grandfather’s workshop. Smiling at her grandmother, she said, “Maybe later.”
Louise moved to stand beside her. “This old thing brings back such memories.”
A stab of remorse cut through Glory for having once suggested they sell it, and she placed her hand on the old stove. “I don’t think we should put a price tag on it after all. Maybe we can make it a focal point of the shop. Give the place an old general store feel, with a fire glowing in it in the winter and chairs nearby for customers to stop in to chat and put their feet up.”
Her grandmother patted her shoulder. “And I’ll bet you think a barrel of pickles would top it off perfectly.”
“Or not,” Glory said, laughing at the silliness.
Pulling up a chair that needed to be stripped of old paint and stained, Louise settled on it and looked up at Glory with a light of expectation in her eyes. “It’s all going to come together, just you watch. You have what it takes to make a go of it. You always have.”
Glory felt a warm glow at her grandmother’s praise, and leaned down to put her arms around her shoulders. “Thank you, Gram.”
“I can hardly wait to see who your first client will be.”
“Our first client,” Glory corrected. But she wasn’t ready to mention that she already had a job lined up. Not until she was in the house and doing the work, just to be on the safe side. After all, if it hadn’t been for her grandmother’s building that had stood empty for several years, they wouldn’t even be talking about clients.
They both turned when the tiny bell above the door announced a visitor. “Why, hello,” Louise greeted, while giving Glory a questioning glance.
But Glory was too surprised to say anything.
“Afternoon, Miz Gardner,” the visitor said, nodding briefly at Glory’s grandmother as he touched the brim of his black cowboy hat.
“Why, Dylan Walker, I haven’t see you around for a—”
“Yes, what a surprise,” Glory said, effectively cutting off the chitchat she suspected her grandmother would launch into without any encouragement. After that would come the invitation to Sunday dinner, and she certainly didn’t want to go there. “Why don’t we step into the office?”
But Louise didn’t seem to hear. “Dylan, are you thinking of letting Glory work her magic on that wonderful old house of yours?”
Glory quickly spoke before he had a chance to answer her grandmother. “If you’ll just come with me, Dylan...”
He looked from one woman to the other, his attention finally settling on Glory. “I just have a couple of questions.”
“I really think we’ll be more comfortable in my office,” she tried again. After a brief hesitation, he followed her. “You’ll have to excuse everything. We haven’t had a chance to do much with the building. In fact, we aren’t officially open yet.”
He removed his hat, revealing his dark hair, and continued to stand. “Nice desk.”
It took a moment for her to realize what he’d said. “It was my grandfather’s.”
“I thought so.” He turned and pointed to the door. “That old wood burner out there, too?”
“Why, yes.” She knew she shouldn’t be surprised that he remembered one or the other. Her grandfather’s leather shop had been famous for miles in every direction. The workshop, where he’d done the leather work, still stood behind the building. It had been her favorite place to visit when she could escape from the pressures at home, but Gramps had been gone for many years, and she’d barely been able to step inside his workshop since he’d died.
“It’s nice of you to remember, Dylan. He had to give up the leather shop when the palsy got too bad to work.”
Dylan placed his hat on the desk. “Erin’s first saddle was one he’d made. I still remember how perfect the tooling was on it.”
“Gram still has many of the things he made.” And so had she, but she’d sold the last of them—her saddle—to Dylan’s sister to get the money needed to pay the back taxes on the building so her grandmother wouldn’t lose it.
Pushing the old memories deeper into her mind, she took a seat behind the desk and folded her hands on top of it. “What can I do for you, Dylan?”
“Like I said, I have a couple of questions.”
Determined to be pleasant, she smiled and dipped her head in a nod. “Of course.”
He continued to look at her, long and hard, making her skin prickle. “What experience do you have to complete this job my sister hired you for?”
It was her turn to stare. “I have a degree in art, if that’s what you mean.”
It was clear by his frown that he hadn’t expected that kind of answer, but it didn’t stop him. “Did my sister give you any instructions as to what to do if I refused to let you do any work on my house?”
Now she was in familiar territory. “As a matter of fact, she did warn me that you might not be receptive to having me there. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter if you’re there or not or whether you even want me there. I’ve been hired to do a job, and I intend to do it.”
He was silent for a moment, as if thinking about what she’d said. “When do you plan to start?”
Now they were getting somewhere. “As soon as possible.” His frown deepened, but she continued. “There won’t be any real work at first. I’ll need to take a look at the house and all the rooms, and take measurements of them. If you have specific ideas—”
“I don’t. This wasn’t my idea.”
There was nothing she could say that would change things, so she didn’t reply.
“How long will that take?” he asked.
She tried to quickly calculate the time and came up with a figure. “An hour, maybe an hour and a half, for the walk-through. Ballpark, of course. I’ll have a better idea of how long the real work will take after that, but I suspect it will take at least a month, probably two.”
He nodded, and she hoped the squint of his eyes and twist of his mouth was an indication that he was giving it all some thought. But there was no way of telling. She didn’t know him well enough.
“Then you don’t need me around for anything, right?”
The air in the room seemed much stuffier than when they’d first walked into the office, and she wished there had been a window to open. She’d also noticed that her heartbeat had kicked up a notch, the moment he’d stepped inside the shop, and it hadn’t let up yet.
“If you don’t want to be involved in the decisions, I can’t force you to.” She wasn’t crazy about the idea of redecorating a house when the person who lived in it didn’t have some kind of input, but it appeared that was the way it was going to be. She’d just have to hope that when she finished the job, he wouldn’t hate it.
“Fair enough.”
“So I have your permission to start?”
“Let’s say I won’t keep you from doing the job my sister hired you to do. How’s that?”
It wasn’t great, but it would do. “That’s all I need. I’ll start tomorrow morning.”
She pushed away from the desk and stood. He followed suit, and she realized that to seal this business agreement—or the possibility of it, anyway—he would expect to shake on it. With a temerity she didn’t feel, she stuck out her hand. She could have sworn that she saw one of his heavy, dark eyebrows lift just the slightest over his gorgeous green eyes, but he didn’t hesitate when he took her hand in his.
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, the warmth of his grasp making her slightly dizzy. She was certain it wasn’t more than a second before he moved, yet didn’t release her hand.
With his other hand, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled something from it. He placed it on the desk, and she recognized her business card. “Interesting,” he said.
Completely lost in his green eyes, all she could say was a nearly incoherent “What?”
“The card,” he answered. “The Glory Be part.”
Her mind was working in slow motion. “Oh. Yes. Well, it was...catchy.”
Finally, he released her hand, picked up the card and returned it to his pocket. “Just in case.”
“Y-yes. Just in case.”
She watched as he replaced his hat, touched the brim of it with his index finger and turned to open the door and walk out of the office.
She was thankful her chair was available when her knees gave way.
* * *
DYLAN DIDN’T INTEND to notice the time as he parked the utility tractor next to his brother’s barn. But when he did, his first thought was to wonder if Glory had started what she’d called her walk-through.
He wasn’t completely convinced that he should have given her the okay to start working, but he really hadn’t been given a choice. Erin had made sure of that. Did he really want Glory traipsing through his house when he wasn’t there? Not that he thought she’d take anything or snoop around. But the idea of her being there alone just didn’t sit well with him. Maybe he should check on her, just in case. At least if Erin called, he could tell her what was going on, and that should keep her off his case.
After shutting off the tractor, he climbed down and headed for his pickup.
“You’re leaving already?” his brother called to him. “Hayley’s stopping by with one of Kate McPherson’s coffee cakes.”
Dylan shook his head and opened the door of the truck. “Can’t. I’ve got to get...” He needed an excuse. “I have an appointment I need to get to.”
He was just sliding behind the wheel when Luke appeared at the door and closed it. “What kind of appointment? Are you sick?”
“Nah, nothing like that. Just...” He wasn’t quite sure what or how much to tell his brother, so instead, he answered with, “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Luke stepped away from the truck as Dylan turned the key and started the engine. “You’re sure you’re all right?” Luke asked.
“Positive,” he answered, knowing how much worry he’d caused his brother over the years.
“Okay.” But Luke didn’t look completely convinced.
With a quick nod, Dylan put the truck in gear and pulled out onto the road. During the short drive, he tried to think of how he might be able to get out of this crazy decorating deal his sister had dreamed up, but he knew the effort was useless. He knew Erin well enough to know that she wasn’t going to let this go. And maybe she was right. Maybe he needed this. Maybe they all did. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Turning into the long lane at his house, the first thing he noticed was the late-model sedan parked in front. With Glory nowhere in sight, he guessed she’d already gone inside. Climbing out of his truck, he headed for the enclosed porch, where he opened the wooden screen and stepped inside. For a moment, he hesitated, while his memories played their usual trick on him. His mother had had a green thumb, and the porch had always been filled with plants and flowers, often hiding the muddy boots and well-worn jackets and coats. The greenery was gone now, but it always took him a moment to accept it.
At the door that led from the porch to the kitchen, he noticed how badly it needed a coat of paint, much like everything else around the house. Since the death of his parents in a car accident, fifteen years before, he and his brother had focused on making the ranch the best they could, believing that was what their mom and dad would have wanted. But he’d ignored the house. Erin was right. It needed some work.
Opening the door, he stepped into the kitchen and stopped. Glory stood at the kitchen table with a camera in her hand, while she made notes on the papers in front of her.
She greeted him with a smile and put her pen on the table. “I hope it was all right that I let myself in. I looked around for you, and knocked on the door several times, but when no one answered...” She finished with a shrug.
He felt the first embers of anger, but quickly put them out. What did he expect her to do when he wasn’t around? “I forgot you were going to be here,” he said, but it was a lie.
“This house is amazing,” she said, taking a step back away from the table and looking around the room.
In that briefest of moments, he saw the place through the eyes of a stranger. Embarrassed that he’d let things go so much, he wasn’t sure what to say. “The folks weren’t into fixing things up fancy.”
“No, it isn’t that. It’s just... Well, to begin with, I haven’t seen wallpaper like this for, oh, I don’t know how long.”
He took in the pattern of green ivy on the wall, and then the rest of the room. None of the appliances were anywhere near new. There was nothing as fancy as a dishwasher, and a large chest freezer took up most of one wall. But he’d never cared before, so why should he now?
“This table and chairs,” she said with a sigh, from behind him.
He turned to look at the old chrome-and-vinyl kitchen set where his family had eaten every meal. “Yeah, it probably needs to be thrown out.”
“Not necessarily,” she said, but she frowned. “They’re definitely retro, and people are looking for this type of thing. I wish they were in better condition.”
He immediately stiffened at the slight. “The wallpaper’s going, too, I suppose.”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Looking up, she smiled at him again. “Don’t look so worried,” she said, reaching out to put her hand on his arm. “I know what I’m doing.”
He stared at her hand as the warmth of her touch snaked up his arm. Opening his mouth to tell her that she had no idea what she was doing to him, he immediately shut it again. He wasn’t sixteen years old, and he had better sense than to let that perfume she was wearing—or her touch—get to him.
He cleared his throat as she pulled her hand away. “What about the appliances?” he asked. “Do I keep those?”
“That will depend on how much you want to upgrade.”
Money hadn’t been a problem for him and his brother for several years. They’d made out better than they’d ever thought they would. But he wanted this decorating thing to be over with as soon as possible.
Before he could come up with an answer, she continued. “We can discuss what might work well when we get further into this. As soon as I finish with measurements and a few more pictures, I’ll start working on some ideas.”
He hadn’t expected it to be so easy. Maybe that meant it would be over quickly. “Okay. Sure.”
She gathered her papers together and hooked her big bag over her shoulder. “I’ve always loved this house.”
Having no memory of her coming to the Walker ranch, he looked at her to see if she was joking. She wasn’t. “I guess I don’t remember.”
“It was a long time ago, but I’ve been here.” She looked out the window where a row of trees lined the lane and continued on to the outbuildings. “When we were in eighth grade, both classes came out here for a hayride.” She turned to look at him. “Don’t you remember?”
He couldn’t even drag up a foggy memory of it. That didn’t surprise him. He’d blocked so many things from his childhood, after the accident. “Sorry, no, I don’t.”
“Oh.”
“There’s a lot I don’t remember. After—” He shook his head, unable to continue.
“Now I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“No reason you should be.” They stood in an uncomfortable silence, until he finally broke it. “When do you think you’ll be finished?”
“With the job?” she asked. “That depends on how much you want done.”
It didn’t matter to him, as long as it satisfied his sister and he was left alone. “Whatever you and Erin talked about.”
“A couple of months. Maybe more.”
He didn’t like the sound of it. “That long?”
She looked around, as if trying to get her bearings. “I could hire some extra help.”
“That’s okay. Whatever it takes.” She didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t him she had to please but his sister. Even if he was the one who was paying for it.
Her head bobbed in a nod. “I’ll just get those measurements....”
When she’d gathered her things and walked into the dining room, he blew out a long breath. He only hoped he wouldn’t be running into her every time he turned around. The sooner she could get the job done, the better. And then his life would get back to normal. Quiet, uninterrupted and without Glory Andrews in it.
Chapter Two
Even before the sun had slipped into the sky the next morning, Glory was out of bed and eager to start work. Anticipation rippled through her as she drove out of town, headed for the Walker ranch and her first job. She was finally coming into her own, ready to prove her worth, not only in the decorating world, but in life. It was past time, and she was excited.
She was less than two miles from the ranch when doubts started tiptoeing into her thoughts. When he stopped in the shop the day before, Dylan hadn’t been any more eager than when she’d first told him his sister had hired her. Having no idea what he did or didn’t like could be disastrous, and guessing wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She didn’t know his tastes in types of furniture or even his favorite color. If she knew him better... But she didn’t, and she hadn’t gotten the impression that he was going to be forthcoming with any information.
Glancing next to her at the stack of binders and the large portfolio containing photos and sketches that would provide the inspiration needed, she took a deep breath.
“I can do this,” she announced in the silence of the car. It helped a little and as she slowed to turn into the long lane that led to the Walker house, she felt a familiar confidence wash over her. Yes, she could do this.
After climbing out of the car, Glory looked around and spied what she guessed was Dylan’s truck near the big barn in the distance. Although she felt fairly certain he wouldn’t be any more pleasant than he had been the day before, she walked in that direction so she could let him know she’d arrived.
Determined to remain positive and friendly, she stepped out of the sunshine and through the large open doors at one end of the barn. Once inside, she waited until her eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the cavernous building.
“Oh, there you are,” she said when she spotted him. “You know, this barn looks even bigger from the inside. Was it built about the same time as the house?”
He didn’t bother to do more than glance at her. “Yeah, it’s one of the oldest barns in the area that’s still standing.”
“Things were built well back then. Not so much now,” she said, sighing. “We’ve made everything disposable. I’ll take the old over the new.” She felt him watching her, but he said nothing. Somehow she needed to discover what he might like her to do with his house. After all, that was why she was there—not to make conversation.
“I was thinking I wouldn’t do as much work upstairs,” she continued. “Maybe just freshen the paint and some other basic things.” When he didn’t comment, she hurried on to add, “But if you’d like more done—”
“None of those rooms have been used since Luke built the new house for Kendra.”
Having learned from her grandmother that his brother’s marriage had ended abruptly, two years earlier, leaving Luke with a baby son to raise, she understood the hint of animosity in Dylan’s voice. She also knew Luke and his new fiancée were in the wedding-planning stage, but Dylan didn’t seem willing to say more.
Ignoring the awkward moment, she took a step back, ready to get to work. “I’ll go on up to the house, then.”
“It’s unlocked.”
Smiling, she nodded. “Yes, I don’t doubt it. Only here in the rural areas do people leave their houses unlocked. In the city, that’s an open invitation to thieves.”
When he didn’t respond, she gave a small wave and turned to leave. Once she was outside, she breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to her car, where she unloaded the things she’d need for the day.
She chose to work in the dining room, hoping that doing so would keep her out of Dylan’s way. Unpacking, she sorted and stacked her material on the long dining table. Then she opened the door into an enclosed stairwell and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Her notes from the day before were hastily scribbled, and she double-checked the measurements of the upstairs rooms.
When she returned to the dining room, she found Dylan standing near the table, her drawings from the folders in his hands.
He looked up as she came farther into the room. “Is this what you’re going to do?”
She wasn’t sure if he’d understand that they were simple sketches. “Yes and no,” she said, watching his face as he studied the pictures.
“You could do this?” He pointed to a photo of a kitchen she’d found.
Still unsure, she gave a small nod. “Something similar, yes. Do you like it?”
He shrugged and replaced the papers and pictures on the table. “It’s okay.”
“Those are just ideas,” she hurried to say. “I hadn’t really decided on anything, so if you don’t like—”
“Never said I didn’t.”
The deep timbre of his voice took her breath away, and she ignored it. At least she now had an idea of what he might like to see in the way of changes. Unable to stop her smile, she let her enthusiasm carry her away. “I have more pictures and ideas for the other rooms. Do you want to see them? We can go over them, and you can choose the ones you like.”
He shook his head and shoved away from the wall. “No reason to do that.”
Her smile died along with her excitement, while a sinking feeling replaced her enthusiasm. Gathering some papers in the hopes of appearing more professional than she felt at that moment, she searched for something to say, with no luck.
“Look,” he said, “I wouldn’t be doing this if—” He lowered his head, shaking it.
Glory thought of what Erin had told her about Dylan still having a hard time with the memory of losing their mom and dad. She couldn’t blame him. She could still remember when it happened, a few weeks before graduation. Dylan had looked so sad and lost as he’d walked across the stage of the high school to accept his diploma. Like many others, she’d had tears in her eyes and reminded herself that, no matter how hard things sometimes were for her at home, it was nothing like what he was going through.
“Yes, okay,” she said. “I’ll do my best.”
“So you think you can do it? In two months?”
Her spirits lifted. “I’m sure I can. You won’t even recognize the place when I’m done.” Her mind raced with ideas. “I’ll work on a few more sketches and make a list of supplies I’ll need to have delivered. There will be a lot of changes, and they won’t be quick. New cabinets and counters in the kitchen—”
“Whatever works.”
Her heart sank again, and she tried to gather her wits. He didn’t care or at least he pretended not to, and she needed to accept that. This wasn’t the way she had imagined her first decorating job would be, but she’d find a way to do it, whether he was involved or not. She needed to be a success, and this was her chance.
“Just how much am I paying you for this?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. When she named a figure she’d roughed out, his dark, heavy eyebrows drew together over his green eyes. “That much?”
Panic hit, but she squared her shoulders. His sister had assured her that she’d be well paid, no matter what he said or did. Lifting her chin with all the pride and determination she could gather, she said, “If you think it’s too much, maybe we should—”
“Is it?”
For a moment, she was totally taken aback. “No,” she said. “No, it isn’t. Certainly not in today’s market.”
“Will you be here tomorrow?”
“First thing in the morning,” she said. “If that’s all right.”
He looked away. “Whatever works for you. I don’t care.”
When he didn’t say more, she took a step back. “I don’t know exactly what time I’ll be here.”
“It’s always unlocked.” Without saying anything else, he disappeared into the kitchen.
She heard the sound of his boots on the floor and the screen door closing. Although she was a little shaken, she decided she’d handled their little encounter fairly well. She would have to get used to the fact that he obviously didn’t have much to say, unless he thought it was important. That was all right with her. She didn’t need the distraction. Getting involved with someone again was the last thing on her mind, no matter how green his eyes were.
Later, when she’d finished looking over each of the rooms again and making copious notes she probably wouldn’t use, she climbed into her car and drove away. When she pulled out onto the paved road, headed for town, she took her cell phone from her purse and hit an autodial button. “Erin?” she said when a young woman answered. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve begun work on the house.”
“Wonderful!” Dylan’s sister replied. “I know you’ll do a terrific job and I can’t wait to visit the first chance I get. Is he cooperating?”
Glory wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Well, he didn’t throw me out.”
Erin laughed, and they talked for a few more minutes about what Glory planned to do. When the call was over, she hoped Dylan would be happy with the changes, too. But it was hard to tell much of anything about him.
* * *
“WHO’S THAT?” LUKE ASKED.
Standing in the opening of the big barn, Dylan looked out to see Glory’s car coming up the lane. Before he could answer, a pickup with Mercer’s Hardware painted on the door turned into the lane behind it.
Luke took a step outside. “So you’re really going to do some work on the house?”
Turning to his brother, Dylan shrugged. “I told you that Erin said I needed to do something. Renovate, fix it up, whatever.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t know that meant you were going to go through with it.” Luke was silent for a moment as they both watched the vehicles come to a stop near the screened-in porch. “Wait a second,” he said when Glory climbed out of her car and walked over to the pickup. “She doesn’t work at Mercer’s.”
“No, she—”
“Hey, that’s Glory Caldwell.”
“Andrews.”
Luke turned to him. “What?”
“Used to be Caldwell. She married Kyle Andrews.”
“Oh, yeah,” Luke said, turning back to watch what was going on. “So they’re back in town?”
“I guess.” But Dylan didn’t know for sure. She still hadn’t mentioned anything about her husband. Not that there was any reason to.
“You’d think we would have heard they were back. From what I remember of Kyle, he wasn’t shy about tooting his own horn.”
“Yeah, that was Kyle.” But Dylan hadn’t been surprised when Glory married the guy. After all, she was the Prom Queen and Kyle had been the King. Everybody said they belonged together. Dylan hadn’t questioned that. He’d just watched her from afar, like all the other guys had. Watching was all he’d done. There’d been no foolish ideas about asking her out. He’d known better, even then.
“Why is she here?”
Dylan wasn’t real happy about having to answer the question, but he couldn’t ignore it, so he hedged. “She has a decorating business.”
Luke looked at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“In Desperation?”
Dylan was getting tired of answering questions. “Yeah, in that building her grandmother still owns. The one with her grandfather’s workshop in the back.”
“And she’s doing the decorating stuff here, at your house?”
Not that he wanted to, but Dylan nodded.
Glory had walked around to the back of the pickup with the driver, who was unloading several gallons of paint, along with some boxes. While the driver took the buckets toward the house, she walked in the opposite direction, stopped and lifted her hand to her eyes. She was looking for him.
Dylan had planned to be absent when she arrived. In fact, he’d decided it might be best to stay clear of her as much as possible, considering that he never felt quite like himself when she was around. But when he saw her wave, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do.
“Go on,” Luke said. “I’ll meet you at the house in a minute. I need to fill my water jug.”
“Why should I?”
On his way to grab his jug from the back of his pickup, Luke stopped and looked back. “Because she probably needs to talk to you.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
Luke didn’t move. “It’s your house.”
“Right.”
“You make the decisions about what happens with it.”
Dylan knew he should agree, but then he would have to explain about their sister and how she’d managed to hornswoggle him into agreeing to let someone—who turned out to be Glory—work on his house.
“Like I said, it was Erin’s idea to make some changes,” he said, ending the discussion.
It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid Glory. As he walked toward where she stood, he saw her say something to the driver, who then got in the pickup and drove away.
“I didn’t mean to take you away from your work,” she said when he drew closer to the house.
Wishing his brother had been anyplace else besides next to him at the barn when Glory pulled in, he spied the paint and boxes by the door to the porch. “Need a hand getting this stuff inside?”
“Oh! Yes, I guess I could use a little help. Thank you for noticing.”
He loaded his hands and arms with paint cans, and she hurried to open the door for him. “Where do you want them?” he asked, carrying them into the house.
“Here in the kitchen is fine.”
He set them down by the door, and then stood there, wondering how to get out of this uncomfortable situation he was now in. He’d never spent a lot of time talking to women, except for the occasional “howdy, ma’am” or to answer a question about his health, which was always good. Not that he’d been celibate. There were ways. But standing in the kitchen with nothing to say while Glory looked around the room from top to bottom was proof that he wasn’t at the head of the class when it came to his conversational skills.
He watched as she walked across the room and stopped at the doorway that led to his bedroom. Not that he particularly needed to watch, but he couldn’t help it. There was something in the way she moved, but he managed to turn his attention away from her. After all, she was a married woman. She and Kyle had been together for forever.
“Have you ever considered using this for a ranch office?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.
“No, I never have.” He tended to do paperwork at the kitchen table and store that same paperwork in a corner in his bedroom or the dining room. He’d always thought it was foolish for him to have the house, but that was the way it had worked out. Once Luke turned eighteen and graduated from high school, Erin left for the rodeo circuit and rarely came home. He and his brother had shared the house. When Luke decided to marry Kendra, she’d vetoed the idea that Dylan would move out and let them have the house. Instead, she’d insisted on a big, new house, and Luke had had it built.
Glory’s eyes shone. “I have some great ideas for it.”
“For what?”
“For an office. It would be perfect.”
“So I guess I’ll sleep upstairs, then,” he said, thinking aloud and not realizing he’d actually spoken.
Nodding, she faced him and asked, “Which room do you think you’d like?”
Before he could tell her that none of them would suit him, he heard the screen door on the porch open and close. He could almost taste the relief when Luke stepped into the kitchen.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Luke said, looking from Glory to Dylan.
“Nope,” Dylan answered, ready to escape the house.
“We were just discussing the idea of making an office in here for ranch business.” She pointed to the room behind her. Her smile grew and she laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m standing here in this house with the Walker brothers.”
“It’s good to see you, Glory,” Luke said, glancing at Dylan. “I heard you’ve opened a new business in town.”
“I have. Glory Be Antiques and Decorating. We aren’t officially open yet, but when Erin and I ran into each other in Texas and she learned about my plans...” She shrugged and smiled at both of them.
“I remember your grandad’s leather shop,” Luke said. “There was nothing like it for hundreds of miles.”
Glory’s smile dimmed, and Dylan recognized the sadness in her eyes. “He loved making saddles,” she said. “It broke his heart when he couldn’t work anymore. And then he...” She took a breath. “But the shop is still there. I think Gram has been thinking of selling his tools. She’s mentioned it. I’m not sure what we’ll do with the space. I—” She lowered her head for a moment, and then raised it again, smiling. “Maybe I’ll use it for a workroom myself. Someday. It’s— Let’s just say it’s difficult for both of us to go in there without thinking of him.”
Luke glanced at Dylan, and then nodded in agreement at Glory. “I understand completely. So you’ve moved back to town permanently?”
This time her smile was sincere. “I hope so. I’ve missed Desperation. And I hope we can make a success of the business.”
“The town hasn’t changed that much. And with Kyle’s connections, you shouldn’t have a problem getting customers.”
Dylan, who’d been watching her throughout the conversation, noticed that her smile dimmed considerably when his brother mentioned her husband’s name.
“Kyle and I have been divorced for some time,” she said, avoiding eye contact with either of them.
Dylan was too surprised to hear what Luke was saying. Her announcement left him stunned, and he wondered just how big of a fool Kyle Andrews was to have let Glory Caldwell go. Not that it changed anything, he told himself. Whether she was married or not made no difference. She’d been hired to fix up his house. But in the back of his mind was the thought that he definitely needed to give her a wide berth. He’d already thought about her too many times, and it wasn’t the kind of thing he should be doing.
* * *
“ARE YOU GOING to the Walker place today?” Louise asked.
Glory nodded. She placed her coffee cup on the kitchen table and rolled up the plans she’d worked on in the evenings during the past week. “The man who’s tearing out the kitchen cabinets will be there in about fifteen minutes, so I need to get going.”
“Is everything working out all right? I mean, with the Walker boy.”
Glory turned to look at her grandmother and wondered how to answer. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault that she’d begun to form an unwanted attraction to him. She certainly couldn’t tell her grandmother about that. Gram would be thrilled, she was sure. Dylan, not so much. He barely knew she was there. Which, she reminded herself, was as it should be.
“Dylan is a very nice man,” she answered as she headed for the door. “He isn’t crazy about me being there and doesn’t care what I do to the house, but I have faith it will all work out.”
“Oh.”
Her grandmother’s disappointment was so clear that Glory had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing, even though it wasn’t funny. It would break Gram’s heart to know she had absolutely no desire to form any kind of relationship with Dylan Walker or anyone else, no matter how often she thought of him and enjoyed getting glimpses of him throughout her day. After all, he was more than easy on the eyes. But she was determined to keep her mind on business, not on him.
“I’d better get going,” she said, needing to escape her grandmother’s questioning eyes. “I have some things I need to talk over with him before he gets busy with ranch work. I’ll see you later.”
After kissing her grandmother’s cheek, she hurried out the door and to her car. A quick look at her watch told her she didn’t have time to enjoy the drive, and she turned her mind to the work she needed to do that day.
When she arrived at the ranch, she immediately noticed that Dylan’s pickup was parked near the barn. Her heartbeat picked up. She pressed her lips together and reminded herself that she was there on business. And business was all she was interested in. Focusing her thoughts on the job ahead, she decided that the things she needed to talk to him about could wait.
She’d just climbed out of her car when another pickup, this one pulling an empty trailer, turned into the long drive and parked behind her. “Good morning,” she called to Jim White, who climbed out of the vehicle and approached her.
With a touch to the brim of his cap, he nodded. “Morning, Miz Andrews. The town’s buzzin’ with the news that you’re back.”
She felt the heat of a blush on her face, but smiled. “I hope it’s a happy buzzing.”
He followed her up to the house. “It is, for sure,” he assured her. “Now what all is it you want me to do here?”
Ready to get to work, Glory led him into the kitchen and explained what needed to be done. Gathering the photos from the dining room, she showed them to him, so he’d have an idea of what she envisioned it would look like, once the old was gone and the new was finished.
“It’s mighty nice,” he answered. “Who’s doin’ your cabinetry?”
She understood that this was the way it was in small towns. In a big city, it didn’t matter. A job was a job, and most people didn’t know the other contractors, unless they’d worked with them before. “I heard good things about Ned Parker, so he’s doing it.”
He nodded. “I don’t think he’ll disappoint you.”
“I have some things to get out of my car, and then I’ll be working in the living room.” She pointed to the doorway. “If you need me, I’ll be in there.”
“Yes’m,” he replied, and began to lay out his tools.
Satisfied that she could leave him to his work, she returned to her car for a box. After spending the past week stripping wallpaper upstairs in what she had chosen to be the master bedroom, she’d done some research and come up with what she hoped would make the job in the living room go more quickly.
Closing the car door, she glanced toward the barn and, to her surprise, she caught sight of Dylan, standing in the doorway of the barn and looking her way. A second later, he was gone, and she wondered if he’d been watching her.
“Of course not,” she scolded herself, under her breath. He wasn’t interested in her, only her work, and barely that, considering how much she’d seen him since she’d started working on the house. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you, and for no reason.”
In the house again, she put thoughts of Dylan Walker as far away as possible and concentrated on dampening the old wallpaper with a mixture of water and vinegar, applied with a mister attached to an old canister vacuum she’d found. To her surprise, it helped, and she was busy spraying and stripping when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dylan walk in.
“What’s that smell?” he asked over the noise.
“Vinegar,” she told him, turning off the vacuum. “It’s supposed to help cut the wallpaper paste. They didn’t make strippable paper back when this was hung.”
“I guess it’s been there for as long as I can remember.”
There was a note of pure sadness in his voice, and she didn’t know how to respond to it. Deciding it was probably best not to, she said instead, “While you’re here...”
He ducked his head and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah?”
His eyes had narrowed, but she’d quickly learned it meant nothing. “It would be a big help if I knew what furniture you want to keep and what to get rid of.”
For a moment, she was frightened by the look on his face. It was so intense, she couldn’t even put a name to it.
“Get rid of all of it,” he said with a wave of his hand. Turning around, he strode to the door.
But Glory wasn’t ready to let him walk out on such an announcement. She didn’t know what she had said to upset him, but she couldn’t just let him leave.
“Wait, Dylan,” she said and hurried to catch him. When she did, she placed her hand on his arm. “We need to talk about this.”
He stopped and looked down at her hand on his arm. She immediately withdrew it. Turning to face her he asked, “What’s there to talk about?”
Resolving not to let him intimidate her, she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “Most of the furniture is too good to simply throw away. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”
“I don’t need it, do I? Can’t you just clear it all out and replace it with new furniture?”
She noticed that his jaw had tightened, and she sensed she needed to stay calm and explain. “Of course I can,” she assured him. “But throwing it away is foolish. Many of these things might be old, but they’re well made. Some could even be collector’s items.”
His eyes narrowed again, but this time it seemed more thoughtful than intimidating. “Like the antiques I saw in your shop?”
Relieved that he was beginning to understand, she nodded. “Some of them.”
“So take them and sell them, if they’ll make money for you.”
She tried not to smile. “I think I have a better idea. Why don’t I sell them on consignment? That way, we’d both benefit. That’s what Gram and I agreed to do if people brought things in to sell.”
“So you keep part of the money and I get the rest?”
She tried to ignore his frown. “Exactly.”
“I don’t need the money.”
“Then give it to charity. It doesn’t matter to me who gets it.”
He seemed to consider the suggestion, but didn’t say anything. When he started to walk away, she wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. “Maybe we should go through things today. The more I can move out of here, the better.”
“Not today.”
He sounded so final that she nearly took a step back. “All right. What about tomorrow? I might be able to find a few high school boys to help load the furniture, if you and Luke could provide the pickups to haul it to my shop.”
“Not tomorrow, either. I’ll be in the city.”
“Oh.” She hoped she didn’t sound as disappointed as she felt. Not that she had a reason to be.
“Hayley’s getting her master’s degree at OU Med Center tomorrow. And then there’s some kind of party for her in town, after that.”
Glory suddenly felt left out, but dismissed it, reminding herself that she’d been gone for too many years to simply pick up where she’d left off. “That’s wonderful, Dylan. Please tell her congratulations for me.”
Without saying anything else, he nodded and left the room. She remembered him being quiet in school, but not nearly so serious. If only she could see a glimpse of that boy he had been.
It didn’t matter, she told herself, getting back to work. At least she’d have a couple of days to work on the house, without anyone around. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she would miss seeing him, although he’d left no doubt that having her around was more of a nuisance than anything else—proof that she needed to keep her work and career uppermost in her mind. The question was whether she could.
Chapter Three
Dylan couldn’t believe he’d let his brother talk him into staying late at the reception after Hayley’s graduation. Even worse, what on earth had possessed him to let them drag him along afterward to a late dinner with a good twenty people he hadn’t the least desire to talk to? The best part was that it was over, and he wouldn’t have to deal with something like it again. Except Luke and Hayley’s wedding, and there’d be no begging off of that.
As he turned into the drive leading to his house, he was surprised to see Glory’s car still there. It was close to midnight, and he hoped she wasn’t still working. Getting out of the car, he grunted his concern. He’d have to start paying her overtime.
Having her around had become an interesting experience. She hadn’t been someone in school that a person could ignore, but he hadn’t known her well. Not that he needed to. In fact, the less he saw of her, the better.
Ready to tell her in no uncertain terms to go home, he spied her before he stepped from the porch into the open kitchen doorway. Her head rested on a stack of what he guessed were books containing some kind of samples, while she slept soundly, oblivious to the fact that he was in the room.
He watched her, knowing he might seem a little like a stalker, but he couldn’t stop himself. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she had something she wanted to say, and a strand of hair had fallen across the slender bridge of her nose, while thick eyelashes rested on creamy skin. She looked like an angel. An imperfect one, but beautiful, all the same. He knew he shouldn’t stand there and stare.
Looking up, he noticed the upper cabinets were missing. He couldn’t imagine that the job would be done in two months. It seemed that the longer the remodeling went on, the worse it got. The kitchen was only one room. There was no telling what the rest of the house looked like.
Stepping as lightly as possible, he moved to his right and slipped into the dining room. Even that rarely used room was a mess. The curtains had been removed and the floor was covered in plastic. The heavy dining table and ten chairs were stacked in a corner, beneath more plastic. The wallpaper was mostly gone, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of vinegar that filled the air.
In the living room, he found the same conditions, although it was hard to see in the dark. When he flipped the light switch, he discovered the lights weren’t working. After taking a closer look, he saw that the fixtures were gone. Everything was chaos.
He turned to find Glory standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching him. He didn’t doubt that he looked angry. He’d never seen such a disaster in his life, and although something inside him didn’t want to upset her with his quickly growing fury, he knew he’d failed by the fear on her face.
“I know it looks like it’ll never be done, right now,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.
“Yeah, it does” was all he could say. He watched as she lifted her chin, but he didn’t know if it was in pride or defiance. No matter which one it was, he couldn’t tell her it was all right, because it wasn’t.
“I promise it will be better.” Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. “It really will. It’ll only be like this for a few days.”
He winced at the thought of dealing with the mess for much longer. “How many?”
“Well...” She glanced around the room before offering him a weak smile. “The kitchen will probably be the last to be finished.”
“When?”
“Two or three weeks. Maybe four?”
He tried not to let her see how disappointed he was and how angry that made him. He usually had more control, but with Glory, he was learning that control wasn’t always so easy. “I guess it’s too late to change my mind.”
He hadn’t meant for it to sound the way it had come out of his mouth. He’d been half joking. Before he could take it back or explain, she turned and disappeared down the hall. “Glory,” he called, but all he heard was her footsteps on the wood floor.
A moment later, she answered. “It really will be better soon.”
Relief swept through him, but he wasn’t sure why. “Okay, I believe you.” Did he have a choice?
She reappeared in the dining room doorway, having obviously circled around through the kitchen. “Thanks for trying.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” She smiled. “It’s all right. I really do understand that it seems like the work will never get done,” she said, waving her arm to encompass the whole house. “But if you’ll just be patient—”
“It’s not—”
“Don’t say it, please,” she begged.
He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed hurting someone, and he wouldn’t make her the exception. “It was a shock to see it, that’s all,” he explained when she came into the room. “I’m sure you’ll make it right.”
She settled on what he suspected was the large sofa, hidden beneath a white sheet. “You hope it will be all right.”
“Do I have a choice?”
She leaned her head back against the sofa and laughed. “No, I suppose you don’t, although it’s always a possibility.” Closing her eyes, she sighed and smiled. “Tell me what it was like growing up here in this house.”
Her request surprised him, and he wasn’t sure how to answer. He also wasn’t sure he wanted to take a trip back to a past he’d spent fifteen years trying not to think about. “There’s not much to tell.”
She turned her head and looked at him with wide eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
His answer was a shrug. The way she sat studying him was causing his body to react in ways it shouldn’t have, and he looked away.
“I know you all worked hard. That’s always a given on a farm or a ranch. And you know it wasn’t like that for me. But that’s not what I’m asking about.”
In the silence that followed, he knew she was waiting for him to say something. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Okay.” He heard her take a deep breath. “What’s your best memory of growing up?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I have any.”
“Oh, surely you do!”
He was forced to look at her. “No, really. I don’t remember much.”
She shook her head, her disbelief achingly clear. “All right. I understand that you don’t want to share with me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”
“It’s all right, Dylan,” she said, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. “I have my own memories.”
She’d grabbed his curiosity, so when she started to stand, he couldn’t let her leave it at that. “Like what?”
“Like that hayride you don’t remember. All the times Tracy— You remember Tracy Billings? She was my best friend. When we weren’t riding horses at her place in the summer, we were hiding under the bleachers at the park to watch you at Little League practice.”
“You’re kidding,” he said, sure they’d done no such thing.
“Not at all.”
“Someone would have seen you.”
Her smile was impish. “You have no idea how sneaky little girls can be when they want to watch little boys they have crushes on.”
“Crushes?” Now she’d snagged his attention and he wanted to hear more. Had he really been one of those crushes?
With an odd smile, she gave him a dismissive wave of her hand and looked away. “Lots of them. A new one every summer. Sometimes.” She turned back toward him. “Baseball was important to you, wasn’t it?”
“More important than breathing.” He’d won an athletic scholarship to college, but he hadn’t taken it. After his parents’ accident, he felt he had to stay and help keep the ranch running. Luke had still been in high school, and Erin had offered to stay and help.
“Those were some of the best times of my life,” she said. “Those times with Tracy when we were kids.”
He was surprised to hear the sadness in her voice, but didn’t ask why. It wasn’t any of his business.
“If it’s all right,” she said, standing, “I’ll straighten up a little and go home. I’m tired.” She walked toward the kitchen, then stopped and looked back at him. “I promise it will get better. Okay?”
He nodded and she disappeared, leaving him with questions and a tiny hole in the wall he’d built around his memories for the past fifteen years. He wondered if she had any idea what that meant to him. He’d forgotten how happy his childhood had been. He just wasn’t sure yet if that was good or bad and hoped he wouldn’t regret it when he learned which one.
* * *
GLORY’S SIGH ECHOED in the upstairs hallways. Once again, she’d forgotten something. This time it was the faceplates for the wall switches. The electrician would arrive soon to put the new light fixtures in the bedrooms, and she’d wanted everything to be ready. Now she’d have to make a trip into town.
“Hey, Miz Andrews?”
She smiled at the luck she’d had in hiring three high school boys to help out. It hadn’t hurt that one of them had grown up helping his mother wallpaper, and that another was a wizard with a paintbrush.
As she started down the stairs, she spied the tall, dark-haired young man waiting at the bottom. “What is it, Mark?”
“Stu said he’d be here a little late. He promised his mom he’d go with her to the farmer’s market this morning, now that school is out. He said to tell you he’ll stay late, if you need him.”
She stopped two steps from the bottom of the stairs and looked directly at Mark. A blush crept up his face, and he looked down as she spoke. “I don’t see why he’ll need to stay late. And you’re here awfully early, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I woke up early and thought I’d give you a hand with whatever needed to get done this morning before Brent gets here.”
“I really appreciate that, Mark. The electrician should be arriving anytime, so I’m glad you’ll be here when he does. I need to run into town for the faceplates, and Mr. Walker seems to have been an early riser, too.”
“No problem.”
She smiled. The boys were eager to help, and she counted herself very lucky to have them. Dylan had made himself scarce since their little bit of reminiscing on Saturday night. No matter how early she arrived, he was gone, and she suspected he was avoiding her. It was just as well. She needed to focus on the job, not him. Even so, it would be wise to let him know she was leaving, just in case someone needed her.
She took the last two steps. “I’ll let Mr. Walker know I’m leaving.”
Mark nodded and moved out of the way as she walked to the kitchen. Grabbing her bag, she looped it over her shoulder and went outside, heading for the barn.
It was a beautiful morning, with only a hint of a breeze stirring the leaves on the trees. Dew glittered in the sunshine, and the scent of flowers drifted around her. There was so much she loved about her hometown and the surrounding countryside. In spite of her failed marriage, she’d enjoyed living in North Carolina and marveled at the beauty of Charlotte. But Desperation, Oklahoma, would always be home to her.
As she walked closer to the barn, she spotted Dylan’s pickup parked on the far side. At least she’d been right, she thought, as she climbed through the corral fence. Moving to the oversize opening of the big barn, she waited for her eyes to adjust, and then looked around for Dylan.
If she hadn’t seen movement out of the corner of her eye, she might have missed him as he worked along the back wall of the barn. “There you are,” she called to him.
He stopped and looked in her direction. “What are you doing out here? You’ll get dirty.”
“Like when I’m in the house stripping wallpaper and sanding?”
“Worse. That’s nothing but dried paste and some dust. This is—”
“Mud and manure? I can live with that.”
He didn’t answer right away. “Was there something you wanted?”
What she really wanted was for him to relax around her—it would make her work a lot more pleasant. But he’d become even more guarded than before. If only she could get a glimpse of the boy he’d once been—the one whose rare smile had been the reason she and her friends had gone to the baseball games. But she sensed that if she told him, he wouldn’t believe her.
Swallowing a sigh, she answered his question. “I wanted to let you know that I’m going into town. Is there anything you need that I can bring back?”
“Not that I know of.” He turned away from whatever he was doing and faced her. “I see you found some helpers. How are they working out?”
“They’re perfect,” she answered, and then thought of something. “You didn’t have anything to do with them applying for the job, did you?”
“Nope. Didn’t need to. You never had a problem getting guys to help you.”
For a brief moment, she thought of telling him that he was wrong, but he wasn’t. She’d been blessed with a special talent for enlisting whatever help she needed.
“I suppose you’re right,” she finally answered. “But I don’t do it on purpose.”
“Never said you did. Just be careful.”
“Careful? Of what?”
“They’re boys. And you’re... Well, you’re Glory.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but before she could, he’d disappeared. Turning for the big barn door, she wondered exactly what it was he remembered about her. For someone she’d barely known, even though they’d gone all through school together, he seemed to know her fairly well. Or thought he did. Had talking about the past, three nights before, been a mistake? If it had been, she was sorry. She hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. Maybe she should try to be more aware of his feelings, but that would require him showing some, and she wasn’t sure how to break through that wall he’d built around himself. And there was really no reason to try. Besides, she finally felt good about herself, and not because of what others thought. Why mess up a good thing?
The trip to town was quick, thanks to finding exactly what she wanted at the hardware store, and she was back at the ranch minutes before the electrician arrived. With the help of Mark and Brent, the boxes containing the light fixtures were soon upstairs in the circular hallway.
“The chandelier goes in there.” Glory pointed to the room at the top of the stairs. She was the only person who’d been in it since she’d finished the painting and papering, but this was the day she planned to unveil Dylan’s new bedroom to him. Once everything was done, anyway.
“This one first, then?” the electrician asked.
Being both eager and apprehensive about the outcome of this first and most important room, she hesitated. Considering how Dylan had refused to give her any input— “Yes, do it first,” she said.
Maybe forcing him to acknowledge her work in a positive way would bring him around. It was worth a try. How much more could he avoid her, without completely disappearing or firing her? Before she panicked that he might, she reminded herself that Erin wouldn’t let that happen. Since Dylan wasn’t cooperating, she’d been in touch with his sister about everything that was done or that she planned to do. Erin was fine with all of it.
After taking a deep breath, she followed the boys into the room to see their reaction to the work she’d done.
“Wow,” Brent whispered to Mark, only a foot away from her.
“Yeah,” Mark answered, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide as he looked around the room.
Glory wondered if that was a bad wow or a good one, but the electrician was giving instructions to the boys, so she couldn’t ask.
“Hold it steady,” the electrician ordered as he perched high on the ladder. “These nosebleed ceilings are enough to make a grown man think twice about a lot of things.”
“That’s the charm of old houses,” she said, without thinking.
The man on the ladder looked down at her, a frown pulling at his mouth. “You wouldn’t think so if you’d had to deal with the nightmare wiring that I have. Luckily, it’s been kept fairly updated here.”
“That’s good,” she answered. “I hope the plumbing is the same. I’m thinking of updating the bath up here.”
As soon as it was out of her mouth, she wondered where it had come from. She’d had no intention of doing anything more than redecorating upstairs. But now that the idea had surfaced, it wasn’t such a bad one. She’d run it by Erin first, though.
“Who would you recommend for that kind of thing?” she asked.
“Hand me that rope, there, boys,” he called down to them. “Well, now, Miz Andrews, there’s a couple of plumbers in the area, although not all of them from Desperation.”
As he named off several people, she wished she had a paper and pencil on her. “Maybe I should just try—”
Certain she heard a noise on the stairs, she hurried to the door and into the hall. Dylan stood at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing.
“Doesn’t anybody hear me?” he asked. “And what the devil are you doing in there?”
The last thing Glory wanted was for him to see the room before it was completely finished. Considering the string of words coming from the electrician at that moment, she had a feeling it might not be soon.
“Just having a new light fixture hung,” she said, joining him. “Is there something you need?”
“Yeah—you.”
Her breath caught and she stared at him. She felt warm, deep inside, and immediately scolded herself. If she had any sense, she’d turn around and run—
“I need you to go downstairs,” he was saying, his dark brows drawn together in a frown. “There’s some guy delivering something. I’m guessing it’s the kitchen cabinets. I need his truck out of the way, but he says he can’t move it until he’s unloaded it.”
It took a few seconds for her mind to wrap around what was happening, and when she did, she felt like a fool. “Of course,” she said, still a bit unsteady and hoping her voice didn’t wobble. “Let me get Mark and Brent. We’ll have the truck unloaded immediately.”
“Good.” He turned and bounded down the stairs, leaving her to wish she could find a way to stop the lustful thoughts she was having about him. He wasn’t interested in her. It wasn’t as though she wanted him to be. As if he ever would. Except for a few rare times, he’d been cold and unreachable—the last things she found sexy in a man.
But as she called to the boys to come help, it took more concentration than it should have to put a stop to those lustful thoughts.
* * *
FROM THE BARN, Dylan watched as the kitchen cabinets were carried inside, knowing he should be helping, but he’d been avoiding being in Glory’s vicinity as much as possible. Not that it was easy. She was there every day except Sunday, from early morning to late evening. It hadn’t taken long to learn that she brought her lunch and ate while she worked. People had called him a workaholic, but they obviously hadn’t seen her doing her job. At least he took time off for his dinner.
He was wondering what it was that drove her when his brother pulled in with the trailer behind his pickup and parked at the gate to the pasture. Dylan waited until Luke reached the barn to speak. “Any trouble?”
Luke shrugged. “A little with that one heifer, but she finally realized she was going to have to leave her baby behind, if she didn’t get in the trailer. It didn’t take long after that.”
“Yeah, I bet it didn’t.”
Turning in the direction of the house, Luke asked, “So how’s the redecorating going?”
“Is that what it’s called?”
Luke looked over his shoulder. “I guess. That’s what Hayley calls it, at least.”
Dylan nodded.
“It’s going okay?”
“I don’t pay a lot of attention,” Dylan answered. It was a lie. The truth was that he’d never intended to, but he did. A lot more than he liked. He didn’t know much about decorating, but he knew at what point she was with the work in each of the rooms.
Except the upstairs bedrooms.
“She’s working upstairs,” he admitted.
Luke faced him, his eyes wide. “Yeah? What’s she doing?”
“I’ll be damned if I know. Stuff. All I know is that when Jim White was tearing out the old kitchen cabinets, she started asking questions about upstairs.”
“You’ve been up there?” Luke asked.
“Just up the stairs,” Dylan admitted. “She ordered me to stay out of the rooms.”
Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Ordered? She ordered you?”
“Pretty much.”
Luke ducked his head. “Glory never struck me as someone who ordered other people around. It’s like she just wished it and it was done.”
When he looked up, Dylan could see that his brother was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, well, people change,” he grumbled.
Laugh was exactly what Luke did, loud and long. “That’s pretty obvious, at least where Glory’s concerned.”
“Right.” Dylan didn’t want to talk about it, and he couldn’t look his brother in the eye when he said, “Let’s get these cattle unloaded, instead of gossiping like a couple of old women.”
He noticed a look on Luke’s face that he couldn’t quite understand, but he ignored it as they went to work. After they were done unloading the cattle, the two of them went into town for lunch. Instead of going home when they finished, Dylan stopped by his brother’s house to spend some time with his nephew. He was amazed at how much Brayden had changed since Hayley had come into their lives. They were happy. Whenever he saw them all together, he’d have one of those “maybe someday” moments. Not that he thought he’d ever be a family man. He’d spent almost half his life working with his brother to make their ranch a success. And they had. He’d given up everything but ranching when his parents died, believing that was what they would have wanted. He owed them that much. There’d never been time for relaxing or even taking a woman out for dinner, but he hadn’t thought about it. Until now.
Back at his ranch again, he managed to keep busy in and around the barn until it was getting too dark to see. He knew Glory was still working, but he’d run out of things to do to keep him away from the house. There was nothing left but to go inside and clean up. If he was lucky, Glory would be too busy upstairs to know that he’d come in, and she’d be gone by the time he’d showered and changed.
The kitchen was beginning to look as if it might survive the war Glory had waged on it. While it didn’t look like the picture he’d seen, it had the same feel. Not that he needed that kind of kitchen. But now that Glory was making changes, he was beginning to think his sister had done the right thing when she’d hired Glory.
As he searched through the boxes in the dining room for a glass, he heard Glory’s footsteps on the stairs. So much for that drink he’d planned to have.
“Oh, you’re in,” she said, stepping through the doorway and into the dining room. “Are you busy? Can you spare me a minute?”
“Sure,” he answered, in spite of the wariness he felt.
Her smile was tentative and shy, and not at all like her. Then it was as if she shook it off and became the self-assured woman who’d walked into his kitchen three weeks before. “I’d like to show you something,” she said, pointing toward the stairs behind her.
“Up there?”
She nodded. “It won’t take long.”
He shrugged. “Lead the way.”
Following her up the stairs was an exercise in strength. It took everything he had not to watch her move from step to step. She always wore well-fitting jeans, but the view from just a few steps below nearly made him break out in a sweat. He was more than relieved when they reached the top and the view was more normal. Not that normal had been easy for him recently.
But being upstairs brought its own reaction. Until earlier that day, he hadn’t been on the second floor for years. He took a deep breath and focused his attention on Glory while he spoke in what he hoped was a normal voice. “What is it you wanted to show me?”
Her wavering smile reappeared. “I’ve finished the first bedroom, and I’d like to get your opinion on it.”
He couldn’t imagine why she’d need to know what he thought. After all, he hadn’t known the difference between Oyster and Creamy Ivory or even cared to. “I’ll do what I can.”
She opened the door to the room at the top of the stairs and walked in. He followed her, not knowing what to expect, but once he was inside, he could barely speak, except to say, “Wow.”
The expression on her face as she looked at him was priceless. It was clear that his approval was important. He wasn’t going to lie. There was no need to. “Wow,” he repeated.
She moved farther into the room. “That’s the same thing Brent said this morning.”
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