The Last-Chance Maverick
The Last-Chance Maverick
Christyne Butler
THE ART OF FALLING IN LOVERUST CREEK RAMBLINGSFellow Ramblers, have you heard that Jonah Dalton is back in town? The sexy, citified architect hasn't been seen round these parts since…well, we won't get into all that. Let's just say love has not been kind to our Jonah.But our sources whisper he's recently been painting the town red with spirited artist Vanessa Brent. She's been methodically working her way through her bucket list–and taking Jonah along for the ride. You'd never guess that Vanessa's lust for life is masking her own heartbreaking secret. Can our hardworking maverick be the one to finally make her whole? Readers, we will let you draw your own conclusions–but we think this romance is a masterpiece in the making!
Vanessa’s Bucket List (#ulink_7b913ef4-dbc7-59ba-b592-1e449b1ad725)
1. Learn to ride a horse
2. Go to Disney World
3. Visit Australia
4. Learn to scuba dive
5. Kiss a cowboy Kiss Jonah Dalton!
6. Go skinny-dipping!
7. Dance in the rain
8. See an active volcano
9. Fall in love…forever…
* * *
Montana Mavericks: 20 Years in the Saddle!
The Last-Chance Maverick
Christyne Butler
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHRISTYNE BUTLER fell in love with romance novels while serving in the United States Navy and started writing her own stories six years ago. She considers selling to Mills & Boon® Cherish™ a dream come true and enjoys writing contemporary romances full of life, love, a hint of laughter and perhaps a dash of danger, too. And there has to be a happily-ever- after or she’s just not satisfied.
She lives with her family in central Massachusetts and loves to hear from her readers at chris@christynebutler.com (mailto:chris@christynebutler.com). Or visit her website, www.christynebutler.com (http://www.christynebutler.com).
To my husband, Len,
for believing in one last chance
Contents
Cover (#ucb341f02-0556-5c1b-b813-3a84291b9656)
Vanessa’s Bucket List (#ulink_7825653b-876a-5c05-b4a7-f3a37b3168f2)
Title Page (#ud781c254-809c-5dd4-aa93-4b9ba4ab5be5)
About the Author (#u781c8901-3578-5ec1-a062-ae746c8a03fe)
Dedication (#u39610302-0056-5f0a-9e42-66f956d6c86e)
Prologue (#ulink_f8480778-7c2d-5904-9a46-a42ddd247c1a)
Chapter One (#ulink_e2cee829-7a0c-597f-9e2e-2e95223a7ba5)
Chapter Two (#ulink_9a855fc3-8ac1-54c7-8b93-d20806b943ea)
Chapter Three (#ulink_1320dda1-cae9-5ba6-a73c-1a012ead95b0)
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)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_66b3e592-c7a6-5f47-ac5e-a5112d7f65e1)
Carrollton Cancer Center, Philadelphia, PA Eleven months ago
“Okay, read it to me...” Adele’s voice faded for a moment as she struggled to speak against the plastic mask covering her nose and mouth that supplied her with fresh oxygen. “...again. We need to finish our list.”
Vanessa Brent swallowed hard against the lump in her throat that refused to go away. Every time she walked into this room—as plush and beautiful and unlike a hospital room as a sun-filled space could be—she had the same physical reaction and it stayed with her until she’d left again.
One would think after three months of being here on a daily basis she’d be used to the sight of her best friend fighting a battle they’d recently accepted she wasn’t going to win. That she’d be able to sit here, hold Adele’s hand and do as she asked.
“All of it?” Glad her words managed to find their way around the obstacle in her throat, Vanessa glanced at the aged piece of paper she held in her hand. Titled “Adele and Vanessa’s Bucket List, created July 4, 2001, Secret Clubhouse, Vanessa’s Attic, Chestnut Hill, PA,” the well-creased, lined sheet of notebook paper was covered with two distinct styles of handwriting, one belonging to her twelve-year-old self and the other a more mature scrawl. “Or just the things we’ve added?”
They’d discovered the childhood list one day while going through some forgotten boxes in Vanessa’s loft apartment. Back when they’d thought Adele had once again beaten the childhood cancer that returned at the tender age of twenty-five, but then went into remission after treatment.
That had been just before Easter. By early June Adele was back in the hospital, but during those few precious weeks they’d managed to check off some of the items on their list.
“Start at the beginning.” Adele turned to look at her, the bright red silk scarf protecting her sensitive scalp brushing against the pillow. “Let’s review...what we’ve done...so far.”
Taking a deep breath, she started reading. “Number one—dance beneath the Eiffel Tower. I did that back in college the year I studied abroad,” Vanessa said, thankful she had a photograph to honor the event as she technically didn’t remember doing so thanks to generous amounts of wine that night. “Number two—swim in the Pacific Ocean. You did that when you were in college.”
Adele smiled, but remained silent.
“Number three—get a tattoo.” Letting go, she flipped her hand and laid it side by side next her friend’s, their matching interlocking heart tattoos visible on their inner wrists. “Number four—see a Broadway show. By ourselves.”
They’d done both on a last-minute road trip to New York City that Adele had insisted on in May not long after they’d found their long forgotten list.
“Shouldn’t have taken us...until age twenty-five to accomplish—” her friend rasped “—either of those.”
“Considering how unhappy your mother was with us for taking off without telling her, not to mention our permanent souvenirs, we’re lucky she didn’t ground us when we got home like she used to do when we were kids.”
“I think my mom was more worried because of me being in remission. Your father never said a word.”
Vanessa wasn’t even sure her father had even realized she’d left the city, much less inked her body. “Okay, let’s see. We did go to Disney World on our senior class trip so that counted for number five. I was lucky enough to visit the White House and shake hands with the president during an art exhibit a few years back. Number six. I attempted to learn to scuba dive while visiting Australia the summer before my mother—well, before she got sick, so that covers numbers seven and eight.”
“That’s right. So you swam in the Pacific Ocean, too.”
“Well, technically, it was the Tasman Sea. It doesn’t count. So, other than the first eight, we haven’t managed to accomplish the rest of the 2001 list.” While Vanessa was sure that flying among the clouds (and not in an airplane!) was a childish wish that would never come true, she guessed moving out west, learning to ride a horse and the last goal, kissing a cowboy, were still possible. At least for her.
She swallowed hard again, but the unfairness of it all kept the lump firmly in place. “You know, judging from the last few items, I think we watched too many old Westerns back when we were twelve.”
“I always liked John Wayne. The strong, silent type,” Adele said. “So how many...do we have so far now? With the new ones included?”
“The original twelve and the eight we added while in New York.” Vanessa read through the rest of the list. When her friend had insisted on updating it with new goals that weekend, they’d truly believed both of them would have time to accomplish things like going skinny-dipping, being part of a flash mob or dancing in the rain. Knowing now that her friend was never going to be able to accomplish any of them... “I think twenty is a good number.”
“No. Need four more. Twelve old and twelve new.”
“Well, number twenty is to see an active volcano. I don’t know how we’re—” Vanessa’s voice caught again, but she pushed on. “How we’re going to top that.”
“Number twenty-one—take a bubble bath...with a man.”
She couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s words as she propped her sketchbook on the edge of Adele’s bed, using it as a base to write on. “How do you know I haven’t done that already?”
“Because you would’ve told me. Best friends tell each other everything.”
Vanessa nodded. “You’re right. And I think that might top the volcano experience.”
“Number twenty-two—kiss...Prince Charming and number twenty-three...” Adele’s voice fell to a whisper, barely heard over the steady beeping from the row of machines on the far side of her bed. “...have a baby. Or two. Or three.”
Vanessa blinked rapidly against the sting of tears, struggling to see clearly enough to add them to the list. Adele’s words brought back the memory of how each of them, being only children, had always wished for younger siblings. That shared secret, revealed on the day they first met when Adele’s mother had come to work for Vanessa’s as a social secretary, had sealed their lifelong friendship. She still remembered the afternoon she’d returned from a ballet lesson and found a scrawny girl, her flaming red hair in braids and wearing a hand-me-down dress with dirt on her knees, sitting on the silk tufted bench in the grand foyer of Vanessa’s home reading Little Women.
“And number twenty-four...fall in love forever.”
Vanessa’s fingers tightened on the pen until she was sure it would break. She tried to write the last goal, but the page was too blurry.
Then Adele’s fingers brushed against the back of her hand. She latched onto her friend’s cool touch and pressed Adele’s hand to her heated cheek. “That’s...that’s quite a list.”
“It’s not a list. It’s a life. Your life.” Adele’s voice became strong and clear, more than it has been in days. “It’s time for you to get back to it.”
“Adele—”
“You’ve been with me constantly over the last year. I’m surprised you’ve found time to get any painting done, not that I want you to jump back into your crazy work schedule.” She paused for another breath. “And I know it’s you I have to thank for being as comfortable with this outrageously expensive hospital room. My mom and I are so grateful—”
“Oh, shut up,” Vanessa admonished her friend gently, her gaze still on the blurred list. “You know I would pay anything—doanything—to have you well again.”
Adele jiggled on Vanessa’s hand, signaling she wanted her attention. Vanessa brushed away the tears before looking at her friend who’d tugged the plastic mask from her face.
“What’s that saying? We only have one shot at life, but if we do it right once is enough? You know better than most—especially now—how quickly life can be taken away,” Adele said, her voice low and strained. “Don’t get so lost in your art after I’m gone that you forget about all the wonderful things waiting out there for you.”
“I still have three pieces to finish,” Vanessa said, the familiar argument returning once again. One that had started years ago between them when she’d spent her thirteenth birthday working on a painting instead of attending a school dance. “You know how I get before a show. This is an important one, too. People are coming from Europe, the Far East—”
“You’ve been painting since you were a kid,” Adele cut her off. “You were a star in the art world at seventeen and we both know that’s because you buried yourself in your art after your mom died. Please don’t do that again. Thanks to your gift and your trust fund, you’re set for...life. It’s time to live it.”
“You make me sound like a nun or something.”
“You’re not too far off. What happened to that fun-loving girl you were a few years ago?”
Vanessa’s memory flashed back to her time in Paris. “That was college, Adele. Being foolish and wild was part of the curriculum back then. Now, it’s about my work.”
“There’s more to life...than work. Than art.”
Vanessa had heard all of this before. Adele had always been supportive of her career, especially during the darkest moment in her life after her mother died when Vanessa was only sixteen, but she also constantly reminded her there was more to the world than her beloved brushes and paints.
“Art is my life, Adele. It’s what got me through the pain and the heartache last time.” She pulled in a deep breath, but her eyes filled again. “I’m counting on it to help me again.... Oh, how am I going to...”
Adele tightened her hold. “Please, don’t be sad...for too long. We’ve talked about this. That’s why I insisted we finish our list. I want you to go out there and experience all the things we’ve dreamed about. I want you to put check marks by every single one of those items.”
The fact that her friend was spending her last days thinking of her made the constant ache inside Vanessa fracture a bit more, sending icy tentacles deeper and further, their frozen tips scraping at her heart. The feeling was a familiar one, felt for the first time since almost a decade ago.
The time from her mother’s diagnosis to her death had been less than eight months, barely any time for them—her or her parents—to come to terms with the illness that would take her life. While her father had thrown himself into his work after the funeral, Vanessa had done the same, her art allowing her a way to express her pain and grief.
Back then she’d poured all her fears onto the canvas in the back of her mind, she too worried that she might die young. Though genetic testing reassured her she was unlikely to develop the same disease, and her time in her studio produced magnificent pieces of abstract art that made her famous, for years, Vanessa had been unable to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen to her.
She’d never dreamed it would be the loss of her best friend.
It was Adele who’d helped her pick out a prom dress, who came to visit her at art school, who got her to laugh again when the someone she’d thought was her true love had broken her heart. Even more than her father, Adele and her mother, Susan, had become Vanessa’s lifeline. They’d been there for every birthday, every holiday and now...
“Come on...promise me.”
Adele started to cough and quickly shoved the oxygen mask back into place. Vanessa shot to her feet and bracing herself on the bed, gently laid her hand over her friend’s, making sure the device was working properly. “Hey, take it easy.”
Adele held up her hand, fingers curled in a fist except for the last, her pinky finger extended into a hook. She looked up, her deep green eyes locking with Vanessa’s. “A solemn vow between best friends.”
Vanessa saw a lifetime bond that went beyond friendship in her friend’s gaze. Adele was the sister she’d never had. They knew each other’s secrets, fears and dreams. They’d shared late night whispers, dried each other’s tears and laughed together more times than she could count. “You make it sound like this is my last chance to have a life.”
“No, but maybe it’s a second chance. How many do you think we get? Just promise you’ll work hard to be happy...to fulfill our list.”
Vanessa wrapped her pinky finger around her friend’s and dropped her forehead to rest against Adele’s as both squeezed tight and held on. “I promise.”
Chapter One (#ulink_844e930f-2b30-5d5b-a91a-cdb6baa7f892)
Present Day Rust Creek Falls, Montana
Vanessa wasn’t sure she’d heard Nate Crawford correctly.
A rushing noise that reminded her of the crazy bumper-to-bumper traffic on Philadelphia’s Schuylkill Expressway filled her ears, except it was the beautiful mountain scenery around her that went a bit hazy as she choked down a mouthful of hot tea. Blinking hard, she focused on the disposable cup in her hand, noticing for the first time she’d grabbed two different flavored tea bags which explained the chocolatey-orange taste burning her tongue.
Even though she’d remembered arriving early enough for this morning’s meeting to grab some refreshment at the canteen here on the job site—not to mention watching the breathtaking Montana sunrise through the two-story, floor-to-ceiling windows that filled the back wall—maybe it had all been a figment of her imagination.
Maybe she was still tucked beneath her goose-down comforter in that amazingly oversize Davy Crockett–style bed in her cabin, dreaming...
“Are you all right?” Nate asked, getting her attention. She looked up in time to see him rock back on his heels, a slight frown on his handsome face. He then glanced at his fiancée, Callie Kennedy, a nurse who helped run the local clinic, who’d placed a hand on his arm.
“Yes,” she gasped, “yes, I’m fine.”
No, that was a lie. Vanessa was definitely not fine despite the fact she stood in the cavernous lobby and main entertaining space of a log mansion that Nate, a local businessman and member of one of the town’s founding families, was converting into a year-round resort.
The gorgeous view of the Montana wilderness was at her back while a stone fireplace big enough to stand in filled the opposite wall. And then there were the rest of the walls. All empty. Her gaze honed in on one of them—freshly painted if the scent tickling her nose meant anything, above the oversize, hand-hewed, carved desk where guests would check in once the resort officially opened.
“You want to hire me—” Vanessa asked, knowing she had to hear the words again. “—to do what?”
“Paint a mural,” Nate repeated, gesturing at the large blank space. “I thought it would be a great tribute to the people and places that mean so much to this town, to Montana. Rust Creek Falls has a connected history with both Thunder Canyon and Whitehorn and I’d like see all three towns honored here at the resort.”
Her gaze followed, trying to see the vision the man’s words created, but nothing came to her artist eye. Zero. Zilch. Her stomach cramped at the now conditioned sensation. How many times had she experienced that same feeling over the past year?
“I think he surprised you, didn’t he?” Callie asked.
“Ah, yes.” Vanessa glanced down at her cup again. “Maybe I should’ve gotten something a bit stronger to ensure I was fully awake for this.”
“And maybe we shouldn’t have asked you to meet us here so early, but we both have to be down in Kalispell for most of the day. Nate didn’t want to wait, and you did say—”
“Ah, no, early is fine. I’m usually up before the sun, anyway.” Looking up at her friend, she waved off Callie’s concern. “But I’m still a bit confused. You’re asking me to do this because...”
“Because I was quite amazed.” Nate paused and took a step closer, his head bent low even though the three of them were the only ones around, “and pleased when I found out the Vanessa Brent who’s running an afterschool art program at the community center and V. E. Brent, world-famous abstract expressionism artist, were one and the same.”
Nate’s soft-spoken words took her completely by surprise.
Not that she went out of her way to hide who she was or what she did with her life before moving to Rust Creek Falls back in July. When asked, she’d only said she’d worked in the creative arts, but was currently on a time-out, rethinking her career plans. She’d then change the topic of conversation because deep down, the explanation had more than a ring of truth to it.
Or more simply put, she hadn’t painted anything in almost a year.
Oh, she’d thought about her craft often, obsessed about it, really. At least until she’d moved out here. Lately, she’d begun to dream about it again, like she’d done as a child. But even though she’d brought along all of her supplies, the white canvases that lined one wall of the cabin she’d rented a few weeks after arriving in town were still blank. Her paints and brushes lay untouched, her heart and her mind as vacant as the walls that surrounded them now.
“Ah, yeah, we’re the same person,” she finally responded to the expectant looks on Nate’s and Callie’s faces. “I mean, yes, I’m V. E. Brent, but I haven’t...been involved with the art world for quite some time.”
Even now, Vanessa was still surprised at the deep depression she’d sunk into after Adele’s death last year. Or the fact that she hadn’t been able to fill the void with her art.
Adele had hung on until just before Thanksgiving and the day of her memorial service had been the start of an arctic winter that had settled in Philadelphia, and most of the country. Vanessa, too, had become locked in her own personal deep freeze. For months she’d mourned, but unlike when her mother died, she failed to find the same solace and comfort in her work. No matter how hard she’d tried, no matter the techniques or tools she employed, her gift had faded into a vast wasteland where nothing flourished.
Even after she’d finally broken out of her self-imposed grieving this past spring, thanks to an intervention led by Adele’s mother, the ability to create was still dormant and she’d decided something drastic was needed to shake her back into the world of the living.
Number ten: move out west.
Vanessa had been reading a weekly blog by a big-city volunteer coordinator who’d moved to Rust Creek Falls to help the town recover from a devastating flood the year before and ended up falling in love and marrying the local sheriff. Soon the idea to move to this little slice of cowboy heaven planted itself in her head and wouldn’t let go. So she’d sublet her loft apartment, refused to listen to her father’s halfhearted attempts to change her mind and bought a one-way plane ticket to Big Sky Country, placing the first check mark on her and Adele’s bucket list in months by arriving just before the July Fourth holiday.
“But you are involved in art,” Callie said, breaking into Vanessa’s thoughts. “You’re great with the kids at the community center.”
Vanessa smiled, remembering how she’d gotten roped into helping with a summer day camp that’d showed up at the center looking to entertain a group of kids on a rainy day. “That’s pretty much finger painting, playing with clay or simple watercolors. Other than that I’m not...”
Her voice cracked and she looked away, that familiar lump back in her throat. Damn! She walked across the vast space, her gaze centered on the empty fireplace. “I’m not...well, let’s just say that side of me—V. E. Brent—she isn’t painting. At all.”
“Oh, please don’t think we’ve invaded your privacy.” Callie hurried to her side. “We haven’t told anyone else who you really are. Nate came up with this idea before we even knew thanks to your beautiful sketches.”
She looked back at them. “My sketches?”
“Yes, the ones you’ve been doing of the locals around town. They’re amazing. I love the portrait you did of me when I was tending to a scraped knee at the playground. I never even realized what you were up to until you gave it to me. I’ve got it hanging in my office at the clinic.”
A few weeks after her kids program took off, Vanessa had started to once again carry a sketch pad and colored pencils in her oversize bag.
Something she hadn’t done in months.
At first, the blank pages seemed to mock her whenever she opened the pad, but then she’d forced herself to do quick exercises, simple pen-and-ink sketches of whatever might catch her eye.
Surprisingly, it had been people.
The citizens of Rust Creek Falls had become her test subjects, either in the park, the community center or while sitting tucked away in a corner of a local business. Sometimes she asked for permission, but usually the sketches were done so quick the focus of her practice exercise didn’t even realize what Vanessa was doing until she’d rip out the page from her sketchbook afterward and offer it to them.
So far, no one had been upset with her. She’d figured most had just been tossed away, but she had spotted a few, like Callie’s, posted around town. Evidence that her creativity was trickling back little by little.
“The drawing you did of my mother working the counter at Crawford’s Store is now matted, framed and holds a place of honor in my father’s study,” Nate said. “Callie and I were there for Sunday dinner and that drawing got me thinking about the mural, the resort and you.”
Surprised at that, Vanessa’s gaze was drawn back to the empty space over the desk, looking very much like the oversize blank canvases in her cabin. Nate’s request caused her fingers to itch, a familiar sign they wanted to be wrapped around a paintbrush again. But Vanessa knew what would happen. As soon as she’d pull out her paints...nothing. Sketching a few random subjects was vastly different than taking on a commissioned work, where the nuances she’d have to capture in oils required planning and a delicate touch.
Things that were still beyond her reach.
Moving far away from home and memories of Adele had been her way to start her life again, and deep down, hopefully restore her spark, her inspiration for her craft. Except for those rare moments when she tried to paint and still failed, Vanessa was enjoying her time in Rust Creek Falls. She’d been lucky enough to find a great place to live, joined the Newcomers Club—a social group of women new to Rust Creek Falls—made some great friends and explored the area. The art program at the center kept her busy, she’d gone on a few dates with some of the local cowboys and made a point to appreciate each day of her new life.
Number thirteen: stop and enjoy sunrises and sunsets.
Another check mark on her list, made the first morning she woke up in Montana. Adele had been right. Concentrating on her life, and using their list as a guide, had helped her to find joy again.
Which made this idea of Nate’s downright scary. What if she said yes and her creative block kept her from putting anything on the wall? And her work was abstract in the truest sense of the word. Powerful color compositions with no reference of any kind to anything recognizable. What Nate was describing was much more detailed, and in a way, more personal.
Still, she found herself wanting desperately to take on the challenge.
Maybe this mural was a chance—her last chance—to find her talent again.
* * *
Jonah Dalton breathed in the cool morning air, holding it for a moment in his nose and mouth, like he used to do as kid. The air had a bite to it—like the fresh tartness of a Granny Smith apple the moment you first sink your teeth into it—that couldn’t be matched anywhere but here in the wilds of Montana.
He’d missed that taste more than he’d been willing to admit.
The air in Denver, his home for the past eight years, had a flavor that was a mix of excitement and culture, but that was to be expected in a sophisticated city of over 600,000 people, he guessed.
He released his breath, watching the white puffs disappear. He stood on the large circular drive outside of Bledsoe’s Folly, soon to be known as...well, whatever Nate Crawford decided to name his as-yet-unopened resort. All Jonah knew was that when the chance came to restore and revitalize this twenty-year-old log mansion into a state-of-the-art, and hopefully popular destination for year-round vacations, his architect’s heart wouldn’t let him turn down the project. Not when the initial construction of the castle-like mansion had fueled his love of architecture and design all those years ago.
So he’d taken a leave of absence from his job with one of the top firms in the country and worked pretty much nonstop on the plans and blueprints for the necessary renovations.
And now he was here.
Even though he’d been less than thrilled about Nate’s condition that he be onsite for the last three months of the project in case any problems arose, Jonah had always enjoyed seeing his designs come to life. At work, he forgot everything else. And that’s just how he liked it.
He figured he could do the same thing here, even if it meant coming home. And he had to admit he was looking forward to the quiet and slow pace of his home town, especially after all the craziness—professional and personal—he’d left behind in Denver. He’d arrived late last night after driving fifteen hours straight and hadn’t made it past the living room couch at his parents’ place.
Yet, here he was at the job site first thing the next morning, anxious to see his dream turned into reality.
His shiny Cadillac Escalade looked a bit out of place in the parking lot crowded with older-model cars and trucks, but Jonah took the number of vehicles present as a good sign that the crew was already hard at work. He grabbed his white hard hat and turned to head inside, surprised when his older brother Eli pulled up the long winding paved road in a battered pickup.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Good morning to you, too, little brother.” Eli waved a piece of paper at him. “Hey, I found your note on the kitchen counter as I was heading out. Decided to stop by and—”
“What are you doing with that?” Jonah cut him off. “I left that for Mom, warning her I plan to stay out at the cabin and not to worry about getting my old room ready.”
“I know, I read it. Here, take this.” Eli handed over a travel mug stamped with the brand of the family’s ranch, The Circle D. “Jeez, you’re just like the rest of the family, a bear without your morning cup of joe. Nice to know some things haven’t changed. Oh, and welcome home.”
The enticing aroma filled Jonah’s nose and his blood cried out for caffeinated bliss. Not wanting to wake his family, he’d only grabbed a quick shower and dressed, figuring he’d see everyone tonight at dinner. He’d guessed there’d be a canteen set up inside for the crew, but this was better.
Jonah took the cup. After Eli shut off the truck and climbed out to join him, he grabbed his brother’s outstretched hand and allowed Eli to pull him into a quick hug that ended with a strong slap to his back. “Thanks, it’s...ah, it’s good to be back, but I still don’t get why you took my note.”
“You can’t stay at the cabin.” Eli stepped back and righted the dark Stetson he wore so much Jonah had often wondered if his brother slept with the darn thing. “It’s been rented.”
Surprised filled him. “You rented out my cabin?”
“Technically, it wasn’t me. It was Mom. And it’s not your cabin.”
“I designed it. I built it. It’s on the acreage Grandpa and Dad set aside for me.” Jonah held tight to the mug as the memories that went along with the one bedroom cabin he’d forged with his own hands came crashing back to him. After eight years one would think he’d be over it by now. “Why would Mom rent my cabin to a stranger?”
“I guess because nobody knew when you planned to show your face in town again.” Eli turned and headed for the main house. “This place must still have working bathrooms, right?”
Jonah sighed and followed his brother toward the oversize double front doors. Yes, he’d missed both Thanksgiving and Christmas, the two times he made a point of returning home over the past few years.
“I couldn’t be here because I was out of the country most of last year working on a major project,” he said as he and Eli stepped through the rustic mahogany-and-iron entryway that was original to the building.
“And when you got back to the U.S. you still didn’t visit.”
“But I did call. I do have a life, and a job in Denver, you know.”
“I know that and you know that. Mom? Not so much. She and Dad were really excited to find out you were the lead architect behind the redesign of this place. The fact they had to hear about it from your boss didn’t go over so well.”
Jonah had planned to tell his folks about working with Nate Crawford, but his life had been going non-stop since he’d agreed to take on the project. “Well, I’m home now and since I’m going to stick around until at least Christmas I’d like to stay at my cabin.”
“Why? You never stayed there before.”
Because he hadn’t actually finished the darn thing until a couple of years ago, working on it whenever he was home. Besides, it was time to get rid of some old ghosts, but Jonah wasn’t going to share that.
“There must be plenty of available housing from those who left town after the flood last year.” Including his ex-wife, he thought, taking a long sip of the strong brew despite the steamy vapors. “Mom can tell the renter they have to move. Or I’ll tell them. It’s my place so technically I’m the landlord.”
“Great. Here’s your chance.”
His brother pointed out Jonah’s boss across the room.
Nate Crawford stood near one of the room’s best features, the original stone fireplace, with two women. One was his fiancée, whom Jonah had met when she’d come with Nate to Denver for one of their many meetings and the other was a stunningly beautiful brunette.
A powerful jolt raced through his veins and Jonah immediately blamed the mouthful of java he managed to choke down. He took in her dark brown hair, a mass of curls that just touched the wide neckline of a bright purple sweater that hung down far past her hips, but still managed to display feminine curves in all the right places.
Or maybe it was her black skintight, sorry excuse for pants that did that.
He couldn’t make out what she was holding in her arms, but then she reached up and pushed a handful of those curls off her face, releasing a jangle from the stack of bracelets that slid from her wrist to her elbow as she turned in a slow circle, her gaze seemingly locked on the empty walls of the room as her ankle-high boots clicked on the newly finished reclaimed barn wood floor. Then Nate’s fiancée touched her arm and the two started to talk.
Staring was rude, gawking like a teenager was worse, but for whatever reason Jonah was helpless to look away.
“Yeah, that’s the typical reaction.” Eli reached around and waved his hand in front of Jonah’s face. “Not hard to tell Vanessa isn’t from around here, huh? Which is why she needed a place to stay. Like your cabin.”
As if she heard them, or maybe because Callie was now pointing in his direction, the beauty looked over and caught him watching her. Jonah snapped out of his dazed state and pushed his brother’s hand away, realizing at that moment the woman he’d been transfixed by was the one sleeping in his bed.
Whoa! Nope, not going there!
Yeah, he’d also built the king-size log bed that took up most of the one bedroom in the cabin, but still...
“She’s the renter?” he finally asked, turning his back on her, and his boss, to face his brother again.
“That’s her,” Eli said, then chuckled. “Can I stick around and watch you go all Scrooge-like?”
“Don’t you have someplace to be? Like the men’s room? Or the ranch?”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Eli grinned and backed away. “Gee, all the Daltons under one roof again. Not sure how Derek is going to feel about that, but the twins and the folks are going to be in heaven.”
Jonah scowled, watching his brother stop and chat with a few workers before disappearing around a corner. He should go over and let Nate know he’d arrived, but his unexpected reaction to— What had Eli said was her name?
And why did he care?
* * *
The cool touch to her arm jolted Vanessa out of her self-imposed trance. She dropped her hand to her side, noticing for the first time that the interior of the resort had gotten busy as members of the construction crew moved from room to room, the noise of their chatter and work tools filled the air while she’d been trying to conjure up something—anything—for the mural.
At some point during her daydreaming she’d handed off her cup of hot chocolate and pulled a sketch pad from her oversize leather bag, but other than grabbing a trio of pens and holding them one-handed in a familiar pretzel twist of fingers, she had...
Nothing.
“I hope your silence is a sign that you’re already brimming with ideas for the mural,” Callie said. “I think Nate’s suggestion is wonderful.”
Despite the panic ricocheting inside of her, Vanessa’s smile came easy. One of the first people she’d met after moving to Rust Creek Falls had been Callie, who was also considered a newcomer in town after she left Chicago back in January. “You think Nate is wonderful.”
Callie’s eyes were bright as she glanced at the tall man next to her talking with a member of the construction crew. “Yes, I do. It’s funny, but from the moment I saw him—oh, look, there’s Jonah.”
Vanessa’s gaze followed Callie’s pointed finger and amazingly the panic over her creative block quieted, replaced with a warm glow that surprised her as much as the way the handsome man stared at them.
At her.
Did she know him? He looked vaguely familiar, but Vanessa was sure they hadn’t been introduced before. No, she’d have remembered if she’d met this man.
Unlike the majority of the men here at the resort and in Rust Creek Falls with their broken-in jeans, T-shirts and flannel button-downs in every plaid pattern and color combination imaginable, he was dressed in black business slacks and a dress shirt.
He was tall, over six feet she guessed, and his slightly mussed brown hair showed hints of gold when the sunlight caught it as he turned away. Her gaze lingered over the way his shoulders filled the expensive cut of his dark gray suit jacket that she’d bet her last pair of Manolos was cashmere. The only thing that made him fit in was the hard hat he held in one hand.
“Who is that?”
Callie smiled and Vanessa realized she’d spoken the question aloud. “I mean, I haven’t seen him around town.” She paused, catching the capped end of one of her pens between her teeth. “At least I don’t think I have.”
“Well, you’ve certainly dated enough of the single men in town to know.”
Vanessa flipped her wrist and pointed her pen at Callie. “Hey! Six dates in three months isn’t that many.”
“Six dates with six different guys.”
“Five.” Vanessa had made the mistake of going out twice with the same cowboy. There wouldn’t be a third time. “But who’s counting? Besides, not everyone believes in love at first sight. I’m more of the ‘you only live once, so enjoy yourself’ kind of girl.”
Unlike half of the women in the town’s Newcomers Club, it seems.
Besides Callie, two other members—Mallory Franklin and Cecelia Clifton—had also found happily-ever-after in the past few months and were sporting pretty engagement rings, even though Mallory claimed she hadn’t specifically moved to Rust Creek Falls for the great “Gal Rush” as many of the locals called the arrival of females over the past year or so. She’d initially come to town to raise her orphaned niece, the little girl her sister and brother-in-law had adopted from China. Then she fell in love with former playboy rancher, Caleb Dalton.
“Hey, Jonah!” Nate called out, “Come over and join us.”
The man hesitated, but then spun back around and headed across the room toward them, the hard hat now perched on his head with a rakish tilt. Callie backed up a few steps toward her fiancé and sent Vanessa a quick wink. She grinned in response and followed, happier now that the conversation had shifted away from the mural she still hadn’t officially agreed to do.
“Welcome home.” Nate held out his hand. “When did you get in?”
“Late last night.” He switched his travel mug from one hand to the other and shook Nate’s. “Very late. Hence, the need for coffee.”
“There’s always a need for coffee.” Nate released him and turned to her and Callie. “You remember Callie?”
He nodded. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too, Jonah. I bet you’re glad to be home.”
A shuttered look filled his gaze for a moment bringing Vanessa’s attention to his green-gold hazel eyes. Tired eyes. The man looked like he could use a good night’s sleep and it was barely eight in the morning.
“Yes, it is,” he said, then turned back to Nate. “Sorry I’m a day late. I know I said October first, but I got stuck on business—”
“Hey, one day doesn’t matter. Did you read my latest email?”
“I meant to, but yesterday was all about tying up loose ends and a long drive. Did I miss something important?”
“Yes, but I think this is better, anyway. Remember when I said I had a great idea for the lobby?” Nate waved his hand toward Vanessa. “Well, here she is.”
The stranger turned his gaze to her, the expression on his face as blank as the walls—as her imagination. Well, blank when it came to the mural. Suddenly she was coming up with some great ideas for her and this handsome guy.
Vanessa forced out a quick laugh, thankful it sounded so relaxed and stuck out her hand. “Gee, you make me sound like a pole dancer or something. Hi, I’m Vanessa Brent.”
“Jonah Dalton.”
He took her hand in his and heat engulfed her fingers. Where had the tingling come from that turned the heat up to volcanic level?
The widening of his eyes told her he felt it, too, and he quickly released her, tipped his mug again and took a long gulp. It was then she noticed the logo on the side. “Dalton...are you related to either of the Daltons here in town?”
He nodded, tugging the brim of his hard hat a bit lower. “Charles and Rita Dalton are my folks.”
“Oh, my goodness! What a small world!” Vanessa hugged her sketch pad to her chest. “Your parents are the sweetest people. I mean, your whole family is so nice. I’m renting a cabin on the Circle D Ranch.”
“You don’t say.”
“Do you know the place? When I was looking to move out of the boardinghouse in town, you mom insisted she had the perfect cabin and she was right! The living room has this one wall that’s a huge single pane of glass—” she waved a hand at the windows that filled the other side of the room “—nothing like that, of course, but the views of the ranch and the mountains are amazing. I’m still learning how to work the woodstoves, the nights have been getting chilly, but the best thing is the claw-footed tub in the bathroom.” Vanessa closed her eyes for a moment a sighed. “Oh, fill that baby with foamy bubbles, give me a good book and I’m soaking for hours up to my—”
The sound of choking had her eyes flying open in time to see Jonah thumping at his chest with his fist. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” One more thump and then he cleared his throat. “Last mouthful of coffee went down the wrong way. Yes, I know the cabin. I grew up on the Circle D Ranch.”
“So, are you a cowboy like your brothers?” It wasn’t hard to picture him in a classic Stetson instead of the hard hat he wore. “Although, I’m guessing from your current chapeau you’re working here on the renovation?”
Both Nate and Callie laughed, reminding Vanessa she wasn’t standing here alone with this long lost Dalton son she’d now recognized from the numerous family photos in the main house on the Dalton’s ranch.
“Yes, Jonah is working on the resort. He’s the lead architect on this project,” Nate explained. “All the innovative building techniques we’re putting into this place to turn it into a premier resort are his. He’s also the lead on all of the interior design so you’ll be working for him. In a way.”
“She will?” Jonah asked, clearly confused. “As what?”
“An artist,” Nate said. “I’ve commissioned Vanessa to paint a mural over the registration desk in the front lobby.”
“You have?” The confusion on his face gave way to something closer to annoyance. “When?”
“Just today,” Vanessa chimed in. “But I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Hmmm, interesting response. One arched eyebrow from her told him he was free to continue.
“No, that came out—what I meant was we’ve already got the designs for the interior furnishings in place.” Jonah’s gaze darted from Vanessa to Callie and back to Nate. “I mentioned earlier this week that Rothschild—the firm in Denver we hired—is sending a representative in a few weeks to give the team a final presentation on everything from furniture to curtains to...well, artwork.”
An emotion that hovered between resentment and relief filled Vanessa’s chest. It seemed Nate and his architect weren’t on the same page when it came to this so-called mural. Good. While the idea of taking on the commission scared her more than anything had in years, she’d admit she had been leaning toward saying yes, confident her talent hadn’t deserted her completely.
Now it didn’t seem to matter.
Chapter Two (#ulink_1804d9d8-24d6-5d95-bea1-b1d55032fb1a)
“Are you telling me you honestly didn’t know Nate had hired Vanessa to paint a mural in the resort?” Eli asked.
They’d managed to find an empty table with a couple of tall stools—one with a trio of half-finished drinks still sitting there—in the back corner of the Ace in the Hole, the local bar that catered to everyone from cowboys to bikers. Between the cracking of the pool balls against each other to the country music blaring from the jukebox for the dancers on the crowded parquet floor, the place was loud and noisy and Jonah had to lean forward to hear his brother. “No, I honestly didn’t know.”
Eli looked at him with one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t.” Jonah dropped his gaze and fixed it on the icy longneck beer he turned in slow circles against the table top. “Not that it matters now.”
“Why’s that?”
Because Vanessa had walked out this morning with Callie following close behind, leaving Nate to make it clear the mural was going to happen and since the man owned fifty-one percent of the resort, he was going to get his way.
“I missed the email explaining Nate’s vision,” Jonah said. “Add the fact the rest of the investors had already approved the idea and it’s a done deal.”
“So your vote wouldn’t have made any difference?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean—” Jonah looked at his brother again. “Wait, what makes you think I had a vote on the subject?”
Eli’s mouth rose into a half grin. “You’re one of the investors, aren’t you?”
Jonah glanced around. No one seemed interested in their conversation, but he kept his voice low. “Why would you think I’d be—”
“Give me some credit, little brother. You’ve been in love with that old place from the moment it was built back when we were kids. You used to ride all the way from the ranch just to watch it being constructed. Even when it sat empty for years, you’d sneak in and hang out there. Remember that night with the football players from Kalispell?”
It took him a moment, but then Jonah smiled. “Yeah, we just about had them out of there, convinced the place was haunted, until Derek tried to steal their beer. That was a heck of a fight.”
“Only because that one guy had a can of spray paint aimed at one of the walls. You took him out with a flying karate leap and the fists started flying.”
It’d been him, his two brothers and three cousins—the Dalton gang as they’d been known back then—against the entire offensive line from the nearby high school, but they’d won. At least until word got back to the town sheriff and their folks. “I never shoveled so much horse manure in my life as we did that fall.”
“Anyway, I figured a rich and famous architect would have plenty—”
“I’m not famous.” Jonah cut off his brother and sat back in the tall stool, the heel of his steel-toed cowboy boot caught on the bottom rung. “Or rich.”
Eli toasted him with his now empty bottle. “You better be tonight. You’re buying and I could use another beer.”
Jonah watched his brother turn away and attempt to flag down a waitress. He never confirmed Eli’s suspicions, but the man was right. When Nate had contacted him about his plans for the forgotten log mansion and he’d found out about the investor team Nate was putting together, Jonah had insisted on buying in, easily parting with a healthy chunk of his savings.
Still, would he have voted along with the majority for the mural?
Probably, since after talking with Nate and finally reading the email, he liked the idea and what the painting would represent, even though it meant added work for the interior-design team when it came to including the painting in the overall plan. It seemed this Vanessa Brent was a pretty famous artist from back east. He hadn’t had a chance to do any research on her yet, but obviously she, and her work, had made an impression on Nate.
Just the sight of her had done something to Jonah that hadn’t happened in a long time.
Made him curious.
What was she was doing in Rust Creek Falls? Was she here as part of the influx of females influenced by an online blog about life in the Wild West his mother and sisters had talked about at dinner? According to his dad and brothers there’d also been a fair amount of single men and families who’d come to town as well over the past year, thanks to jobs created by both the recovery work from last summer’s flooding and more recently, the resort. They’d even hired on a few new hands at the ranch, putting the bunkhouse to use again for the first time in a long time.
Along with his cabin.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Vanessa might have done to the empty slate he’d left behind after she’d moved in. Were the few pieces of furniture he’d put in still there? Including the bed he’d handcrafted and now refused to picture her sleeping in?
And that flash of anger in her golden-brown eyes when he’d shot down the idea of a mural... Why had it changed to relief just before she’d walked out?
Stifling a yawn, Jonah drained his beer and chalked up his interest in Nate’s artist to his being dead tired.
Coming to the bar his first full day back in town hadn’t been part of his plan for tonight. A quick meal and then crashing headfirst into a soft bed had been more of what he had in mind, but the talk at dinner had quickly turned from the town’s population boom to him. His job, his travels and after one too many questions from his mother about his personal life, Jonah had willingly agreed to Eli’s idea they’d grab a beer or two to celebrate his homecoming.
Two more beers arrived and Jonah swore this would be his last as he twisted off the cap. It was then he heard a familiar laugh from a nearby table. He turned and looked at the group of men playing a lively game of poker, recognizing one of them right away. “Didn’t Derek rush through dinner because he had a big project to do in the barn?”
“Yeah, so?”
Gesturing toward the table, Jonah saw Eli’s gaze shift until it landed on their younger brother who sat with his back to them.
“Guess he finished early,” Eli said. “Or else he got tired of listening to mom’s excited chatter about your many accomplishments.”
Jonah’s face heated. “I was getting tired of that, too.”
“Hey, she’s proud of you. Dad, too. You’re the first one of us kids to make it big with your fancy Denver penthouse, traveling the world designing everything from skyscrapers to celebrities’ homes, not to mention dating a famous ballerina.”
“How did you know about that?”
“Mom cut out a picture of you two attending a charity event—nice tux, by the way—from some magazine. She had it hanging on the refrigerator for months until we all got so sick of seeing it she finally moved it to her sewing room.”
He groaned. “Please tell me you’re screwing with me.”
Eli grinned. “She was hoping you’d bring the lady home for a visit.”
Not likely. He’d returned from a business trip and walked in on her entertaining a fellow dancer—a ballerina—in her apartment. Hey, he was all for a person being true to themselves, but he wasn’t going to be her stand-in. Especially after the way she’d hinted about the two of them getting married. “I haven’t dated Nadia in a year. That was over before I left for Brazil.”
“Whatever happened to that sexy architect from your office I met when I visited a few years back? Before Nadia?”
Yeah, getting involved with a coworker he’d collaborated with on a couple of projects, moving their relationship from the office to the bedroom had been a mistake, too. He didn’t realize that until she decided to move up in the world and left him to marry a partner in a rival company, when he made it clear that he and marriage were not a good fit. Not anymore. “I wasn’t rich or famous enough for her.”
“Well, I guess mom’s just getting antsy for one of us to finally settle down,” Eli said. “Again. You’re the only one who’s tried the marriage bit. As much as she and dad were against you becoming a husband while still in your teens, I think she’s ready now for some grandchildren to spoil.”
This time the memory flashed in Jonah’s head before he could brace himself.
The pregnancy test found in the trash. His joy at becoming a father after what he’d thought had been four years of wedded bliss. Lisette’s stunned silence. His mistake in thinking her reaction was because he’d ruined the surprise.
Yeah, she surprised him all right—
“Hey, you okay?” Eli clicked the bottom edge of his bottle against Jonah’s, pulling him from the past. “You grip that beer any tighter and it’s going to shatter in your hand.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” He must be. He hadn’t thought about that night in a long time. It was almost like it’d all happened to someone else. Someone he used to be. He forced his fingers to relax. “It’s been a long few days. Months, actually.”
“Well, you’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight. Back in your childhood bedroom.”
Same room, but thankfully the furniture had been updated. There was no way he’d be comfortable in a twin-size bed. “Very funny.”
“So, I’m guessing you decided not to kick Vanessa out?”
After the way her eyes lit up and hearing the excitement in her voice as she described the cabin, Jonah knew he couldn’t ask her to leave. It wasn’t her fault he’d come back assuming the place would still be empty. “The subject never came up, but no, I don’t plan to ask her to move.”
“She got to you, huh?”
“What’s her story?” Jonah avoided his brother’s question with one of his own. “What do you know about her?”
“Not much.” Eli shrugged. “I hadn’t met her until Mom had her over for dinner one night back in August and announced she was renting your cabin. I didn’t even know she was an artist until you mentioned it. She’s nice, always with a smile on her face and rarely at a loss for company, from what I’ve heard. But hey, my days usually run twelve to fourteen hours taking care of the ranch. I don’t have time for much else, which should show my brotherly love in saving your butt tonight by coming here. Why are you asking?”
“No reason. Just curious about who’s living in my place and who I’ll be working with for...well, for however long it takes her to paint a mural.” Jonah tipped back his beer for a long swallow.
“Maybe you should ask Derek. Seeing how he promised to teach her to ride a horse. Convenient, huh?”
The cold liquid caught in the sudden tightening of his throat. Jonah tried not to cough, but failed and did his best to hide it as he wiped at his mouth. “Derek’s chasing after her?”
“You know our brother.”
Yes, he did. Derek had been popular with the ladies ever since he’d figured out the difference between boys and girls somewhere back in elementary school. Derek did his share of chasing, but usually it was the ladies who went after him, most winding up with nothing to show for their trouble but good times and a broken heart when they got too serious.
A fire burned in his gut at the idea of Derek messing with Vanessa that way and damned if he knew why. He’d only met the woman today. Just because she’d stirred his curiosity, among other things, didn’t mean anything.
Neither did the sparks that crackled between them the moment he’d taken her hand this morning. Maybe he’d just been alone for too long. There hadn’t been a woman in his life—or his bed—in a long time. Hell, there hadn’t really been anyone since his ex-wife destroyed their marriage eight years ago and just about destroyed him along with it.
“Boy, you really must be tired.”
Jonah blinked, realizing he’d been so lost in his own thoughts he’d missed whatever his brother had said. “Yeah, I am. You must be, too. Maybe we should head home.”
“Oh, don’t leave now.” A soft feminine voice spoke. “The party’s just getting started.”
Jonah and his brother turned in unison and found three ladies standing there. His gaze immediately went to the brunette with bouncy curls who stood head and shoulders taller than the two petite blondes flanking her.
Vanessa.
She reached for the glasses on the table, handing one each to her friends. Keeping the wineglass for herself, she sent him a wink over the rim when their eyes clashed. A quick glance at all three ladies’ slightly disheveled appearances and apparent thirst at how they finished off their drinks, made him realize he and Eli had taken their table while they’d been on the dance floor.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to steal your seats.” His brother quickly came to the same conclusion and slid off his stool, but instead of stepping away—as in heading for the exit—he just moved to make room. “It’s pretty crowded tonight. Do you mind if we share?”
“Only if you’re buying the next round.” One of the blondes spoke while the other giggled.
Yeah, actually giggled.
Vanessa smiled, remembering what it felt like to be barely legal enough be in a bar. Not that at twenty-six she was that much older than her new friends, but there were many times she felt much older than her actual age.
And woefully out of shape.
Grabbing at the front of her sweater, she yanked it back and forth, enjoying the slight breeze against her heated skin. Thursday nights were busy here at the Ace and the dance floor was crowded. She was finally getting the hang of the steps, dips and sways that went along with country line dancing, but boy, she wished she’d thought to change her outfit before coming tonight.
She had, in fact, almost stayed home, but then she’d seen the reminder on her calendar and once again thought about the list.
Number sixteen: learn how to line dance.
She’d arrived early but the bar had filled up quickly, so she’d offered to share her table with the two girls she’d just met tonight who managed somehow not to look the least bit sweaty or have a lock of their flowing golden manes out of place.
“Of course, I’m buying.” Eli readily agreed and offered to escort the ladies to the bar. He started to walk away, but then stopped and pointed back at Jonah and her. “No need for introductions, right? You two remember each other?”
She sidled a look in Jonah’s direction. Oh, yes, she remembered him.
In fact, Vanessa hadn’t been able to think about much else but Jonah Dalton all day, even when she should’ve been concentrating on the design for the mural that after much more prodding from Nate and Callie was back on.
“Yep, I think we’ll be fine.” Ignoring the stool he’d vacated the same time as his brother, Vanessa moved closer to the table and set her empty glass down. “Hello again, Mr. Dalton.”
“Please, call me Jonah.”
There they were again. She’d thought she’d imagined the tingling that felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks dancing along her skin at the smooth tone of his voice the few minutes they had talked this morning, but now he’d only spoken four words and they were back. Like gangbusters.
Maybe she should just peel off this darn sweater. It’s not like she didn’t have anything on beneath it. In fact, she wore a double-layer tank top—
“What can I get for you at the bar, Vanessa?” Eli asked. “Another glass of wine? Maybe a bucket of ice water?”
His question caused her to stop her frantic moves, her hand now still against her chest. “Oh, an ice water would be great. Just a glass.”
Eli smiled, then looked at his brother. “Jonah? Another beer?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
Hmmm, four more words but with an edge to them this time. Eli and the girls disappeared into the crowd. Vanessa leaned against the table, elbows propped along the edge and her beloved bracelets jangling as they landed on the smooth surface. “So, are you having fun...Jonah?”
“I’d rather be in bed.”
Five words this time and boy, the heat level rose again. That’s it. She straightened and eased behind Jonah, as he stood between the table and the back wall, one hand already under the bottom edge of her sweater. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
He started to look back over one impossibly wide shoulder, but she nudged him forward with her elbow. “Just give me a minute, I need to...”
A quick tug and one arm came free. After a tussle with both her bracelets and oversize hoop earrings, she deftly pulled the garment over her head. The cool air lapping at her damp skin felt wonderful. “Ah, so much better.”
Running her fingers through her hair would be a lost cause, the wayward curls did whatever they pleased, but she did it anyway and then adjusted her bra straps to make sure they didn’t show.
“Are you finished back there?”
The confusion laced in Jonah’s question made her smile. That and the fact he was still using five-word sentences.
“Thanks for being my screen.” She stepped back around to the table, laying her sweater over the closest stool. “I don’t think anyone noticed.”
Ha! Now she’d done it. Twice!
“Noticed what?” Jonah asked, looking at her. His gaze stilled, locked somewhere around her mouth before it slowly traveled the length of her body.
The slow appraisal caused those pinpricks to rise into goose bumps along her bare arms. She quickly blamed it on the bar’s air-conditioning, but her girly parts enjoyed his perusal so much her toes curled inside her favorite suede ankle boots.
“You—ah, you changed.” Jonah’s words came out in a low whisper. He lifted his beer to his mouth, ready to tip it back, but then noticed the bottle was empty and set it back down.
“Actually, I just took off a layer.” She tugged the edges of the tank top down over her hips, but it barely covered the pockets on her leggings where her phone, driver’s license and cash were safely tucked away. “All that dancing made me hot.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Vanessa smiled and leaned against the table again. “Hmmm, I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”
Jonah started to reply, but before he could, Vanessa’s gaze caught on something—or should she say someone—on the other side of the room.
Without stopping to think about what she was doing, she laid a hand over Jonah’s and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Hey, architect, want to be a hero?”
His gaze dropped to their hands for a moment, and then he looked at her again. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a cowboy—tall, big shoulders, plaid shirt—heading this way.”
Jonah quickly looked around the bar. “You do realize you’ve just described about every man in here?”
“This one’s wearing a hat like your brother’s...I know, a lot of men are, but he’s standing on the other side of the third pool table and stealing glances at me with a determined look on his face.”
This time Jonah glanced to his left and Vanessa watched as the two men made eye contact. Oh, boy, she hoped this was a good idea.
“Is that bothering you?” He turned back to her.
“Well, ever since I told him I don’t kiss on the first date, he’s been angling to get me to go out with him again.”
Jonah’s hazel eyes darkened. “For a second date?”
“Third, actually. I didn’t kiss him the last time, either,” she hurried to explain, wanting him to understand. “I just wanted to get to know him a bit better, but no sparks, ya know? I told him it would be better if we were just friends, but the guy won’t take no for an answer.”
At that moment Eli returned, setting two beers and her glass of ice water down with a noisy clank before pushing their drinks across the table. “Your friends decided to stop by the ladies’ room—drinks in hand—so who knows if we’ll see them again. Hey, look at you. Getting more comfortable?”
“Much.” Vanessa reached for her glass, enjoying a long sip of the cool liquid. She didn’t know if her throat was so dry because of the dancing or this crazy idea of hers. “Oh, I so needed that.”
Jonah took a long swallow from his beer. “Yeah, me, too.”
“So, what do you say?” She set the glass back down, and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Help a girl out?”
Eli’s gaze bounced back and forth between them, before it landed on her hand on Jonah’s wrist. “Ah, did I miss something?”
“I just need a favor from your brother.”
“Jeez, I’m the one who bought the lady a drink.”
Jonah shot his brother a dark look, then turned to her again. “What do you want me to do?”
Now that he was agreeable, Vanessa realized she was at a loss for ideas. Boy, what else was new?
Was it enough they were standing here, practically holding hands? Maybe she should slide a bit closer? Press up against his shoulder?
Biting down on her bottom lip, she tried to come up with something when the jukebox switched songs and a classic country music ballad came on.
“Dance with me,” she said.
This time Eli laughed. “Oh, you’ve picked yourself the wrong rescuer, Vanessa. If there’s one thing Jonah doesn’t like to do, it’s dance.”
Okay, maybe it would be enough if she just stood next to him. Surely, her admirer wouldn’t cause any trouble if it was clear she was here with someone else, and now that Eli was back...
“How presumptuous of me. I’m sorry.” She released her hold, her fingers lightly sliding back across his skin. “I guess I’ve got to learn that I can’t assume every man in town is a cowboy or likes to two-step. Never even thought—”
Jonah surprised her by capturing her hand in his. “Come on, let’s dance.”
Chapter Three (#ulink_5e2e1ff7-31cf-51a2-be82-1fbf329a09eb)
Jonah ignored the shock on his brother’s face, especially when it morphed into a smirk. He instead concentrated on the surprise—turned delight—on Vanessa’s. Her asking him to dance was just another way she’d surprised him since she’d walked up to their table tonight. Her table. Hell, since he’d walked into his resort and found her standing there.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He shot a glance at Vanessa’s admirer, who looked vaguely familiar and was heading their way. Releasing her hand, he gestured toward the already crowded dance floor. “After you.”
She rewarded him with a bright smile and then turned on one heel of those sexy boots. Moving in close behind her as they maneuvered around the tables, he placed a hand at the small of her back. Her top felt slightly damp and the heat of her skin easily melted through the soft cotton material to warm his fingertips.
Damn, there went those sparks again, just like the glowing spatter from a welder’s torch to steel, these figurative sparks would burn just as easily of he got too close.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
His brother was right. Jonah had never been a big fan of dancing and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done any two-stepping, slow speed or otherwise. And since she’d stripped off that sweater and wore nothing but a flimsy tank top that showed off toned arms and sexy cleavage, how was he going to hold her in his arms and not—
They reached the parquet floor and instead of waiting for an opening crowded outer circle of couples, Vanessa moved into the fray, spun around and assumed the position.
He moved in, placing one hand just beneath her left shoulder blade and lightly took her right hand in his. Two quick steps, one slow and—
“Oh!” Her booted foot knocked right into his. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. It’s takes a few minutes to get into the swing—” She did it again and ending up bumping into the couple behind her when she tried to back away and find her rhythm at the same time.
“Sorry about that, folks,” he said to the man when he turned and glared at him over his shoulder, then focused again on his dance partner. “Vanessa, do you know how to two-step?”
Her nose scrunched up. “Not really. I’ve been watching the couples when I’m here at the bar and I want to learn, even though it’s not on my—” She stopped and bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. “I’ve been concentrating on line dancing.”
Jonah glanced to his left and found the center of the dance floor filled with couples, but moving much slower. He stepped out of the ring of couples and pulled Vanessa in closer.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Dancing.” He turned to face her again, this time sliding his hand to the small of her back, holding her in place—much closer this time—as he started to move in an unhurried circle. “Isn’t that what this is called?”
“Ah, yes.” Her stiff posture relaxed as she smiled, moving her hand up to circle his neck while aligning her body with his from his chest to his knees. “I believe it is. You know, I always wondered why couples would gather out here in the center of the floor and slow dance.”
The press of her soft curves reminded Jonah again of how long it’d been since he’d held a woman in his arms. “Maybe because one of them doesn’t know how to two-step.”
“Or maybe they want to be able to talk and get to know each other a little better.”
“They can’t do that while sitting at a table?”
She laughed softly, her puffs of breath enticingly warm against his throat. “Probably wouldn’t be as much fun.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“When was the last time you did any dancing?” she asked. “Country or any other style?”
It took him a minute as he thought back. The charity event in Denver where that photograph of him and Nadia had been taken. “It’s been over a year.”
“Don’t get out much?”
“I’ve been working quite a bit. Got back from a year in Brazil in the spring and started working on the resort project in August.”
“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play, architect.”
Yeah, many probably considered him a dull guy, but dedication to his work was what got him through the hardest time of his life.
Not wanting to go down that path, Jonah figured he and Vanessa probably should get to know one another better since they were going to be working together, but first things first.
He tightened his grip on her hand before bringing it in to rest against his chest. “I owe you an apology for my rudeness this morning.”
She leaned back and looked up at him. “I take it finding out about me and the mural was a surprise?”
Boy that seemed to be the word for the evening. “Yes.” He waited a moment and then added, “But a nice one.”
A tilt of her head told him she wasn’t sure if she believed him. “Why do I get the feeling a certain architect doesn’t like surprises.”
That had been more of a statement than a question, so Jonah remained silent. The truth was he hated them. Always had. Even as a kid, he liked knowing what was happening, what was coming down the road and when.
Birthdays and Christmas mornings were only made better once his folks took his detailed lists of gift ideas seriously. His brothers had messed with him a time or two over the years, but once he got into high school his life revolved around his studies and the girl he’d started dating his freshman year.
The only girl for him until everything changed eight years ago.
“No apology is necessary,” Vanessa continued, cutting into his thoughts. “I’m happy you’re on board with the idea now.”
Glad she wasn’t upset with his behavior, Jonah wove his way back to his original intent. “Very much on board. I’ll need to get our interior-design team in the loop on this, sharing any preliminary drawings and color choices you have for the mural with them.”
Vanessa dropped her gaze from his. “Yes, of course, you will.”
“I’ll admit I don’t know much about your work or even how a mural is painted. Do you have any ideas or sketches yet?”
“I just found out about Nate’s idea this morning, as well.” Her shoulders stiffened and her feet once again became tangled with his. “Oops! Sorry about that. Ah, it’s going to take me some time to come up with...a plan, a design.”
Jonah wondered how much time, the analytical side of his brain already making plans as he mentally reviewed the upcoming schedule.
“The main hall where you’ll be working is pretty much finished except for the furnishings and such, so you won’t have to worry about any construction mess getting in the way,” he said. “Of course, we’ll have to build you scaffolding depending on the size and scope of the mural.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“And find a way to give you as much privacy as you need, but then again, it is a construction site so I hope you can work with noise and people. Do artists tend to prefer quiet?”
“Yes, s-some do. I usually work alone, but I’m sure I’ll be able to manage.”
Jonah picked up on the hesitation in her words. “Did Nate tell you the grand opening of the resort is planned for the Christmas holidays? That’s less than twelve weeks away. Does that time frame work for you? I hate to have the project half finished—”
“Wow, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
Vanessa’s question cut into his sentence, silencing him for a moment as he gave it serious thought. “Yes, actually, it has been mentioned a time or two. Especially when it comes to work.”
“So, let’s not talk about work. Or talk at all.” She trailed her fingertips across the back of his neck, just along the edge of his shirt collar. “Just enjoy the music, the dancing...the moment.”
She was right. They had plenty of time to talk about the mural and resort later. It’d been a long day and while dancing was the last thing he’d ever thought he’d be doing tonight, he had to admit it felt pretty damn good to hold her in his arms.
Pressing his cheek to her hair, he pulled in a deep breath and a fresh, flowery scent filled his head. He relaxed for the first time since he’d come home.
As the song ended and another began, Vanessa didn’t make any move to step away. In fact, she seemed to cling tighter. Her lush curves felt great, especially since the last woman he danced with was so thin and delicate he’d often wondered if she’d break if he held her too tight.
“Not going anywhere,” he whispered.
The tension eased from her body and they danced through that song and a third one before the music selection changed and things got lively again.
“Let me guess,” Vanessa stepped back when he stopped moving. “You’re not interested in doing any line dancing.”
“You’ve guessed right.”
She smiled, moved out of his embrace and headed off the dance floor. Jonah fell into step behind her as they made their way through the crowd, almost bumping into her when she suddenly stopped.
“Ah, hello, Tommy.”
Jonah looked over her shoulder and found the cowboy she’d been trying to dodge standing right in front of them. Taking a step closer and to one side, he again placed a hand at the small of her back, and moved in next to her.
“Jonah.” She turned, a look of relief on her face. “This is my friend, Tommy Wheeler. Tommy, this is Jonah Dalton, my...um, my...”
“Date.” The word popped out of his mouth before he could think about it, but the dazzling smile of Vanessa’s was worth the white lie. “Nice to meet you, Tommy.”
The cowboy pushed up the brim of his hat and offered Jonah a long look before finally taking his outstretched hand. “Dalton,” he said. “You related to Anderson Dalton?”
“My cousin, why?”
“Just curious.” Tommy finished the handshake. “I’ve worked on the Daltons ranch for the last ten years or so.”
Okay, so maybe that’s why he looked familiar. “They’re a good outfit. Right up there with The Circle D.”
“You don’t work for your family’s ranch.”
It wasn’t a question. “No, I’m back in town to work on the renovation of the new resort.”
Tommy only responded with a nod of his head, and then turned his attention back to Vanessa. “So, how about a dance?”
“No, thanks. It’s getting a bit late.”
He glanced at his watch. “At ten o’clock? You and I have been out later than this, darling.”
Was it his imagination or did Vanessa just lean in a bit closer to him?
“Yes, but that’s all in the past now,” she said, her fingers playing with the numerous bracelets on her wrist. “And I think it’s time I head home.”
“We.” Jonah corrected her, again surprised when the word came out of his mouth. Not bothering to think as to why, or maybe he was just too tired, he drew her against his side and slid his hand around to cup her hip. “We’re heading home.”
They were?
Vanessa felt like a tennis ball, bouncing back and forth between Tommy and Jonah, but she never expected him to say that.
Heck, hearing him call himself her date had weakened her knees. Or was the sensation from how amazing it’d been to be in his arms as they danced? Or the way he held her right now?
“We are?” Her gaze collided with his for a second and she read understanding in Jonah’s dark hazel eyes. She turned back to Tommy and smiled. “Ah, yes, we are. So, I’ll—ah, we’ll see you later.”
With Jonah’s hand pressing against her back—oh boy, that felt good, too—she walked past Tommy and headed back to their table. Eli Dalton still sat there alone, but the bottles and glasses had multiplied, indicating he had company at some point while they were gone.
Jonah dropped his hand from her hip, putting some distance between them just before Eli looked their way. On purpose? Probably. A few dances and a few fibs to an ardent admirer didn’t make them a couple.
Far from it.
They were...coworkers, she guessed, for lack of a better description, from the many questions he had about the mural. Questions she didn’t have any answers to.
Yet.
But she would, she hoped.
She also hoped to get better acquainted with Jonah because she liked him. More so than any of the first dates (or seconds!) she’d gone on since coming to Rust Creek Falls. She’d been waiting for the right cowboy to come along. Could Jonah Dalton be the one?
“Hey, congratulations, Vanessa.” Eli said, toasting her with a raised beer. “You not only got my little brother on the dance floor, you managed to keep him out there. What’s your secret?”
She glanced at Jonah, already deciding she wasn’t going to share that he’d actually been the one who offered to stay for more than one song.
“I’m not sure.” She grabbed her glass, which was now just water as the ice had long melted. “Once he figured out I’m still a newbie at two-stepping I’m lucky he didn’t go off and leave me standing there.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Jonah’s soft words caused her to look at him again. “I know that.”
He dropped her gaze, focusing on the table for a moment before looking up at his brother. “I guess all of this means you aren’t ready to head home? Or are you having a party of one?”
“The blondes returned. They’re on the dance floor now and no, I’m not ready to leave.” Eli tipped his head toward the poker table. “Besides, Derek’s still playing. I thought I’d stick around. You know, just in case.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but Jonah seemed to understand the message. “Any chance you can get a ride home from your new friends? I’m ready to get out of here.”
“I’ll take you.” Vanessa spoke before Eli could open his mouth. “I mean, that’s what we said...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “We’re both heading back to the same place. You to the ranch house, me to the cabin. You are staying with your folks, right?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s staying at the big house.” Eli grinned.
“You okay to drive?” Jonah asked his brother.
Eli nodded. “This is my last one. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then.” Jonah turned to her, picking up her sweater and holding it out in her direction. “I’m ready if you are.”
They said their goodbyes, but when Jonah started for the front entrance of the bar, she grabbed his hand and motioned toward the back. He followed and soon they were outside in the cool evening air. Cool enough that Vanessa stopped and tugged on her sweater, wishing she’d remembered her jacket, once again fighting with her jewelry after she managed to get it over her head.
“You must really like those.” Jonah said, pointing at her captured wrist.
“Yes, I do.” She freed her hand, shaking her wrist to enjoy the noise her precious collection made. She then tugged the ends of the sweater down over her hips. “Some are made of beads or crystals, but my favorites are the individual metal circles that expand when you press on them. Each holds an individual charm.”
Her favorite one, purchased during her and Adele’s last trip to New York City, caught her eye. She looked down at it, gently rubbing her thumb across the raised heart engraved there.
“Gifts from friends and family?”
“Some.” Vanessa blinked hard so the tears would be gone when she looked up at him. “A few I purchased myself. When I couldn’t resist one that caught my eye, especially while trolling the internet in the wee hours of the morning.”
Jonah seemed to be studying her and she was glad for the dark shadows in the parking lot. Digging out her keys from her pocket, Vanessa pointed toward the first row of vehicles. “I’m parked down in front. A perk of getting here early.”
She started across the gravel lot and Jonah fell into step next to her. The music and noise from the bar filtered out through the open windows reminding her again of the huge favor he’d done for her tonight.
“Thank you. For dancing with me...and everything else back there,” she said as they walked. “Hopefully Tommy was smart enough to pick up on the pretending we were doing.”
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Christyne Butler
THE ART OF FALLING IN LOVERUST CREEK RAMBLINGSFellow Ramblers, have you heard that Jonah Dalton is back in town? The sexy, citified architect hasn't been seen round these parts since…well, we won't get into all that. Let's just say love has not been kind to our Jonah.But our sources whisper he's recently been painting the town red with spirited artist Vanessa Brent. She's been methodically working her way through her bucket list–and taking Jonah along for the ride. You'd never guess that Vanessa's lust for life is masking her own heartbreaking secret. Can our hardworking maverick be the one to finally make her whole? Readers, we will let you draw your own conclusions–but we think this romance is a masterpiece in the making!
Vanessa’s Bucket List (#ulink_7b913ef4-dbc7-59ba-b592-1e449b1ad725)
1. Learn to ride a horse
2. Go to Disney World
3. Visit Australia
4. Learn to scuba dive
5. Kiss a cowboy Kiss Jonah Dalton!
6. Go skinny-dipping!
7. Dance in the rain
8. See an active volcano
9. Fall in love…forever…
* * *
Montana Mavericks: 20 Years in the Saddle!
The Last-Chance Maverick
Christyne Butler
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHRISTYNE BUTLER fell in love with romance novels while serving in the United States Navy and started writing her own stories six years ago. She considers selling to Mills & Boon® Cherish™ a dream come true and enjoys writing contemporary romances full of life, love, a hint of laughter and perhaps a dash of danger, too. And there has to be a happily-ever- after or she’s just not satisfied.
She lives with her family in central Massachusetts and loves to hear from her readers at chris@christynebutler.com (mailto:chris@christynebutler.com). Or visit her website, www.christynebutler.com (http://www.christynebutler.com).
To my husband, Len,
for believing in one last chance
Contents
Cover (#ucb341f02-0556-5c1b-b813-3a84291b9656)
Vanessa’s Bucket List (#ulink_7825653b-876a-5c05-b4a7-f3a37b3168f2)
Title Page (#ud781c254-809c-5dd4-aa93-4b9ba4ab5be5)
About the Author (#u781c8901-3578-5ec1-a062-ae746c8a03fe)
Dedication (#u39610302-0056-5f0a-9e42-66f956d6c86e)
Prologue (#ulink_f8480778-7c2d-5904-9a46-a42ddd247c1a)
Chapter One (#ulink_e2cee829-7a0c-597f-9e2e-2e95223a7ba5)
Chapter Two (#ulink_9a855fc3-8ac1-54c7-8b93-d20806b943ea)
Chapter Three (#ulink_1320dda1-cae9-5ba6-a73c-1a012ead95b0)
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)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_66b3e592-c7a6-5f47-ac5e-a5112d7f65e1)
Carrollton Cancer Center, Philadelphia, PA Eleven months ago
“Okay, read it to me...” Adele’s voice faded for a moment as she struggled to speak against the plastic mask covering her nose and mouth that supplied her with fresh oxygen. “...again. We need to finish our list.”
Vanessa Brent swallowed hard against the lump in her throat that refused to go away. Every time she walked into this room—as plush and beautiful and unlike a hospital room as a sun-filled space could be—she had the same physical reaction and it stayed with her until she’d left again.
One would think after three months of being here on a daily basis she’d be used to the sight of her best friend fighting a battle they’d recently accepted she wasn’t going to win. That she’d be able to sit here, hold Adele’s hand and do as she asked.
“All of it?” Glad her words managed to find their way around the obstacle in her throat, Vanessa glanced at the aged piece of paper she held in her hand. Titled “Adele and Vanessa’s Bucket List, created July 4, 2001, Secret Clubhouse, Vanessa’s Attic, Chestnut Hill, PA,” the well-creased, lined sheet of notebook paper was covered with two distinct styles of handwriting, one belonging to her twelve-year-old self and the other a more mature scrawl. “Or just the things we’ve added?”
They’d discovered the childhood list one day while going through some forgotten boxes in Vanessa’s loft apartment. Back when they’d thought Adele had once again beaten the childhood cancer that returned at the tender age of twenty-five, but then went into remission after treatment.
That had been just before Easter. By early June Adele was back in the hospital, but during those few precious weeks they’d managed to check off some of the items on their list.
“Start at the beginning.” Adele turned to look at her, the bright red silk scarf protecting her sensitive scalp brushing against the pillow. “Let’s review...what we’ve done...so far.”
Taking a deep breath, she started reading. “Number one—dance beneath the Eiffel Tower. I did that back in college the year I studied abroad,” Vanessa said, thankful she had a photograph to honor the event as she technically didn’t remember doing so thanks to generous amounts of wine that night. “Number two—swim in the Pacific Ocean. You did that when you were in college.”
Adele smiled, but remained silent.
“Number three—get a tattoo.” Letting go, she flipped her hand and laid it side by side next her friend’s, their matching interlocking heart tattoos visible on their inner wrists. “Number four—see a Broadway show. By ourselves.”
They’d done both on a last-minute road trip to New York City that Adele had insisted on in May not long after they’d found their long forgotten list.
“Shouldn’t have taken us...until age twenty-five to accomplish—” her friend rasped “—either of those.”
“Considering how unhappy your mother was with us for taking off without telling her, not to mention our permanent souvenirs, we’re lucky she didn’t ground us when we got home like she used to do when we were kids.”
“I think my mom was more worried because of me being in remission. Your father never said a word.”
Vanessa wasn’t even sure her father had even realized she’d left the city, much less inked her body. “Okay, let’s see. We did go to Disney World on our senior class trip so that counted for number five. I was lucky enough to visit the White House and shake hands with the president during an art exhibit a few years back. Number six. I attempted to learn to scuba dive while visiting Australia the summer before my mother—well, before she got sick, so that covers numbers seven and eight.”
“That’s right. So you swam in the Pacific Ocean, too.”
“Well, technically, it was the Tasman Sea. It doesn’t count. So, other than the first eight, we haven’t managed to accomplish the rest of the 2001 list.” While Vanessa was sure that flying among the clouds (and not in an airplane!) was a childish wish that would never come true, she guessed moving out west, learning to ride a horse and the last goal, kissing a cowboy, were still possible. At least for her.
She swallowed hard again, but the unfairness of it all kept the lump firmly in place. “You know, judging from the last few items, I think we watched too many old Westerns back when we were twelve.”
“I always liked John Wayne. The strong, silent type,” Adele said. “So how many...do we have so far now? With the new ones included?”
“The original twelve and the eight we added while in New York.” Vanessa read through the rest of the list. When her friend had insisted on updating it with new goals that weekend, they’d truly believed both of them would have time to accomplish things like going skinny-dipping, being part of a flash mob or dancing in the rain. Knowing now that her friend was never going to be able to accomplish any of them... “I think twenty is a good number.”
“No. Need four more. Twelve old and twelve new.”
“Well, number twenty is to see an active volcano. I don’t know how we’re—” Vanessa’s voice caught again, but she pushed on. “How we’re going to top that.”
“Number twenty-one—take a bubble bath...with a man.”
She couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s words as she propped her sketchbook on the edge of Adele’s bed, using it as a base to write on. “How do you know I haven’t done that already?”
“Because you would’ve told me. Best friends tell each other everything.”
Vanessa nodded. “You’re right. And I think that might top the volcano experience.”
“Number twenty-two—kiss...Prince Charming and number twenty-three...” Adele’s voice fell to a whisper, barely heard over the steady beeping from the row of machines on the far side of her bed. “...have a baby. Or two. Or three.”
Vanessa blinked rapidly against the sting of tears, struggling to see clearly enough to add them to the list. Adele’s words brought back the memory of how each of them, being only children, had always wished for younger siblings. That shared secret, revealed on the day they first met when Adele’s mother had come to work for Vanessa’s as a social secretary, had sealed their lifelong friendship. She still remembered the afternoon she’d returned from a ballet lesson and found a scrawny girl, her flaming red hair in braids and wearing a hand-me-down dress with dirt on her knees, sitting on the silk tufted bench in the grand foyer of Vanessa’s home reading Little Women.
“And number twenty-four...fall in love forever.”
Vanessa’s fingers tightened on the pen until she was sure it would break. She tried to write the last goal, but the page was too blurry.
Then Adele’s fingers brushed against the back of her hand. She latched onto her friend’s cool touch and pressed Adele’s hand to her heated cheek. “That’s...that’s quite a list.”
“It’s not a list. It’s a life. Your life.” Adele’s voice became strong and clear, more than it has been in days. “It’s time for you to get back to it.”
“Adele—”
“You’ve been with me constantly over the last year. I’m surprised you’ve found time to get any painting done, not that I want you to jump back into your crazy work schedule.” She paused for another breath. “And I know it’s you I have to thank for being as comfortable with this outrageously expensive hospital room. My mom and I are so grateful—”
“Oh, shut up,” Vanessa admonished her friend gently, her gaze still on the blurred list. “You know I would pay anything—doanything—to have you well again.”
Adele jiggled on Vanessa’s hand, signaling she wanted her attention. Vanessa brushed away the tears before looking at her friend who’d tugged the plastic mask from her face.
“What’s that saying? We only have one shot at life, but if we do it right once is enough? You know better than most—especially now—how quickly life can be taken away,” Adele said, her voice low and strained. “Don’t get so lost in your art after I’m gone that you forget about all the wonderful things waiting out there for you.”
“I still have three pieces to finish,” Vanessa said, the familiar argument returning once again. One that had started years ago between them when she’d spent her thirteenth birthday working on a painting instead of attending a school dance. “You know how I get before a show. This is an important one, too. People are coming from Europe, the Far East—”
“You’ve been painting since you were a kid,” Adele cut her off. “You were a star in the art world at seventeen and we both know that’s because you buried yourself in your art after your mom died. Please don’t do that again. Thanks to your gift and your trust fund, you’re set for...life. It’s time to live it.”
“You make me sound like a nun or something.”
“You’re not too far off. What happened to that fun-loving girl you were a few years ago?”
Vanessa’s memory flashed back to her time in Paris. “That was college, Adele. Being foolish and wild was part of the curriculum back then. Now, it’s about my work.”
“There’s more to life...than work. Than art.”
Vanessa had heard all of this before. Adele had always been supportive of her career, especially during the darkest moment in her life after her mother died when Vanessa was only sixteen, but she also constantly reminded her there was more to the world than her beloved brushes and paints.
“Art is my life, Adele. It’s what got me through the pain and the heartache last time.” She pulled in a deep breath, but her eyes filled again. “I’m counting on it to help me again.... Oh, how am I going to...”
Adele tightened her hold. “Please, don’t be sad...for too long. We’ve talked about this. That’s why I insisted we finish our list. I want you to go out there and experience all the things we’ve dreamed about. I want you to put check marks by every single one of those items.”
The fact that her friend was spending her last days thinking of her made the constant ache inside Vanessa fracture a bit more, sending icy tentacles deeper and further, their frozen tips scraping at her heart. The feeling was a familiar one, felt for the first time since almost a decade ago.
The time from her mother’s diagnosis to her death had been less than eight months, barely any time for them—her or her parents—to come to terms with the illness that would take her life. While her father had thrown himself into his work after the funeral, Vanessa had done the same, her art allowing her a way to express her pain and grief.
Back then she’d poured all her fears onto the canvas in the back of her mind, she too worried that she might die young. Though genetic testing reassured her she was unlikely to develop the same disease, and her time in her studio produced magnificent pieces of abstract art that made her famous, for years, Vanessa had been unable to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen to her.
She’d never dreamed it would be the loss of her best friend.
It was Adele who’d helped her pick out a prom dress, who came to visit her at art school, who got her to laugh again when the someone she’d thought was her true love had broken her heart. Even more than her father, Adele and her mother, Susan, had become Vanessa’s lifeline. They’d been there for every birthday, every holiday and now...
“Come on...promise me.”
Adele started to cough and quickly shoved the oxygen mask back into place. Vanessa shot to her feet and bracing herself on the bed, gently laid her hand over her friend’s, making sure the device was working properly. “Hey, take it easy.”
Adele held up her hand, fingers curled in a fist except for the last, her pinky finger extended into a hook. She looked up, her deep green eyes locking with Vanessa’s. “A solemn vow between best friends.”
Vanessa saw a lifetime bond that went beyond friendship in her friend’s gaze. Adele was the sister she’d never had. They knew each other’s secrets, fears and dreams. They’d shared late night whispers, dried each other’s tears and laughed together more times than she could count. “You make it sound like this is my last chance to have a life.”
“No, but maybe it’s a second chance. How many do you think we get? Just promise you’ll work hard to be happy...to fulfill our list.”
Vanessa wrapped her pinky finger around her friend’s and dropped her forehead to rest against Adele’s as both squeezed tight and held on. “I promise.”
Chapter One (#ulink_844e930f-2b30-5d5b-a91a-cdb6baa7f892)
Present Day Rust Creek Falls, Montana
Vanessa wasn’t sure she’d heard Nate Crawford correctly.
A rushing noise that reminded her of the crazy bumper-to-bumper traffic on Philadelphia’s Schuylkill Expressway filled her ears, except it was the beautiful mountain scenery around her that went a bit hazy as she choked down a mouthful of hot tea. Blinking hard, she focused on the disposable cup in her hand, noticing for the first time she’d grabbed two different flavored tea bags which explained the chocolatey-orange taste burning her tongue.
Even though she’d remembered arriving early enough for this morning’s meeting to grab some refreshment at the canteen here on the job site—not to mention watching the breathtaking Montana sunrise through the two-story, floor-to-ceiling windows that filled the back wall—maybe it had all been a figment of her imagination.
Maybe she was still tucked beneath her goose-down comforter in that amazingly oversize Davy Crockett–style bed in her cabin, dreaming...
“Are you all right?” Nate asked, getting her attention. She looked up in time to see him rock back on his heels, a slight frown on his handsome face. He then glanced at his fiancée, Callie Kennedy, a nurse who helped run the local clinic, who’d placed a hand on his arm.
“Yes,” she gasped, “yes, I’m fine.”
No, that was a lie. Vanessa was definitely not fine despite the fact she stood in the cavernous lobby and main entertaining space of a log mansion that Nate, a local businessman and member of one of the town’s founding families, was converting into a year-round resort.
The gorgeous view of the Montana wilderness was at her back while a stone fireplace big enough to stand in filled the opposite wall. And then there were the rest of the walls. All empty. Her gaze honed in on one of them—freshly painted if the scent tickling her nose meant anything, above the oversize, hand-hewed, carved desk where guests would check in once the resort officially opened.
“You want to hire me—” Vanessa asked, knowing she had to hear the words again. “—to do what?”
“Paint a mural,” Nate repeated, gesturing at the large blank space. “I thought it would be a great tribute to the people and places that mean so much to this town, to Montana. Rust Creek Falls has a connected history with both Thunder Canyon and Whitehorn and I’d like see all three towns honored here at the resort.”
Her gaze followed, trying to see the vision the man’s words created, but nothing came to her artist eye. Zero. Zilch. Her stomach cramped at the now conditioned sensation. How many times had she experienced that same feeling over the past year?
“I think he surprised you, didn’t he?” Callie asked.
“Ah, yes.” Vanessa glanced down at her cup again. “Maybe I should’ve gotten something a bit stronger to ensure I was fully awake for this.”
“And maybe we shouldn’t have asked you to meet us here so early, but we both have to be down in Kalispell for most of the day. Nate didn’t want to wait, and you did say—”
“Ah, no, early is fine. I’m usually up before the sun, anyway.” Looking up at her friend, she waved off Callie’s concern. “But I’m still a bit confused. You’re asking me to do this because...”
“Because I was quite amazed.” Nate paused and took a step closer, his head bent low even though the three of them were the only ones around, “and pleased when I found out the Vanessa Brent who’s running an afterschool art program at the community center and V. E. Brent, world-famous abstract expressionism artist, were one and the same.”
Nate’s soft-spoken words took her completely by surprise.
Not that she went out of her way to hide who she was or what she did with her life before moving to Rust Creek Falls back in July. When asked, she’d only said she’d worked in the creative arts, but was currently on a time-out, rethinking her career plans. She’d then change the topic of conversation because deep down, the explanation had more than a ring of truth to it.
Or more simply put, she hadn’t painted anything in almost a year.
Oh, she’d thought about her craft often, obsessed about it, really. At least until she’d moved out here. Lately, she’d begun to dream about it again, like she’d done as a child. But even though she’d brought along all of her supplies, the white canvases that lined one wall of the cabin she’d rented a few weeks after arriving in town were still blank. Her paints and brushes lay untouched, her heart and her mind as vacant as the walls that surrounded them now.
“Ah, yeah, we’re the same person,” she finally responded to the expectant looks on Nate’s and Callie’s faces. “I mean, yes, I’m V. E. Brent, but I haven’t...been involved with the art world for quite some time.”
Even now, Vanessa was still surprised at the deep depression she’d sunk into after Adele’s death last year. Or the fact that she hadn’t been able to fill the void with her art.
Adele had hung on until just before Thanksgiving and the day of her memorial service had been the start of an arctic winter that had settled in Philadelphia, and most of the country. Vanessa, too, had become locked in her own personal deep freeze. For months she’d mourned, but unlike when her mother died, she failed to find the same solace and comfort in her work. No matter how hard she’d tried, no matter the techniques or tools she employed, her gift had faded into a vast wasteland where nothing flourished.
Even after she’d finally broken out of her self-imposed grieving this past spring, thanks to an intervention led by Adele’s mother, the ability to create was still dormant and she’d decided something drastic was needed to shake her back into the world of the living.
Number ten: move out west.
Vanessa had been reading a weekly blog by a big-city volunteer coordinator who’d moved to Rust Creek Falls to help the town recover from a devastating flood the year before and ended up falling in love and marrying the local sheriff. Soon the idea to move to this little slice of cowboy heaven planted itself in her head and wouldn’t let go. So she’d sublet her loft apartment, refused to listen to her father’s halfhearted attempts to change her mind and bought a one-way plane ticket to Big Sky Country, placing the first check mark on her and Adele’s bucket list in months by arriving just before the July Fourth holiday.
“But you are involved in art,” Callie said, breaking into Vanessa’s thoughts. “You’re great with the kids at the community center.”
Vanessa smiled, remembering how she’d gotten roped into helping with a summer day camp that’d showed up at the center looking to entertain a group of kids on a rainy day. “That’s pretty much finger painting, playing with clay or simple watercolors. Other than that I’m not...”
Her voice cracked and she looked away, that familiar lump back in her throat. Damn! She walked across the vast space, her gaze centered on the empty fireplace. “I’m not...well, let’s just say that side of me—V. E. Brent—she isn’t painting. At all.”
“Oh, please don’t think we’ve invaded your privacy.” Callie hurried to her side. “We haven’t told anyone else who you really are. Nate came up with this idea before we even knew thanks to your beautiful sketches.”
She looked back at them. “My sketches?”
“Yes, the ones you’ve been doing of the locals around town. They’re amazing. I love the portrait you did of me when I was tending to a scraped knee at the playground. I never even realized what you were up to until you gave it to me. I’ve got it hanging in my office at the clinic.”
A few weeks after her kids program took off, Vanessa had started to once again carry a sketch pad and colored pencils in her oversize bag.
Something she hadn’t done in months.
At first, the blank pages seemed to mock her whenever she opened the pad, but then she’d forced herself to do quick exercises, simple pen-and-ink sketches of whatever might catch her eye.
Surprisingly, it had been people.
The citizens of Rust Creek Falls had become her test subjects, either in the park, the community center or while sitting tucked away in a corner of a local business. Sometimes she asked for permission, but usually the sketches were done so quick the focus of her practice exercise didn’t even realize what Vanessa was doing until she’d rip out the page from her sketchbook afterward and offer it to them.
So far, no one had been upset with her. She’d figured most had just been tossed away, but she had spotted a few, like Callie’s, posted around town. Evidence that her creativity was trickling back little by little.
“The drawing you did of my mother working the counter at Crawford’s Store is now matted, framed and holds a place of honor in my father’s study,” Nate said. “Callie and I were there for Sunday dinner and that drawing got me thinking about the mural, the resort and you.”
Surprised at that, Vanessa’s gaze was drawn back to the empty space over the desk, looking very much like the oversize blank canvases in her cabin. Nate’s request caused her fingers to itch, a familiar sign they wanted to be wrapped around a paintbrush again. But Vanessa knew what would happen. As soon as she’d pull out her paints...nothing. Sketching a few random subjects was vastly different than taking on a commissioned work, where the nuances she’d have to capture in oils required planning and a delicate touch.
Things that were still beyond her reach.
Moving far away from home and memories of Adele had been her way to start her life again, and deep down, hopefully restore her spark, her inspiration for her craft. Except for those rare moments when she tried to paint and still failed, Vanessa was enjoying her time in Rust Creek Falls. She’d been lucky enough to find a great place to live, joined the Newcomers Club—a social group of women new to Rust Creek Falls—made some great friends and explored the area. The art program at the center kept her busy, she’d gone on a few dates with some of the local cowboys and made a point to appreciate each day of her new life.
Number thirteen: stop and enjoy sunrises and sunsets.
Another check mark on her list, made the first morning she woke up in Montana. Adele had been right. Concentrating on her life, and using their list as a guide, had helped her to find joy again.
Which made this idea of Nate’s downright scary. What if she said yes and her creative block kept her from putting anything on the wall? And her work was abstract in the truest sense of the word. Powerful color compositions with no reference of any kind to anything recognizable. What Nate was describing was much more detailed, and in a way, more personal.
Still, she found herself wanting desperately to take on the challenge.
Maybe this mural was a chance—her last chance—to find her talent again.
* * *
Jonah Dalton breathed in the cool morning air, holding it for a moment in his nose and mouth, like he used to do as kid. The air had a bite to it—like the fresh tartness of a Granny Smith apple the moment you first sink your teeth into it—that couldn’t be matched anywhere but here in the wilds of Montana.
He’d missed that taste more than he’d been willing to admit.
The air in Denver, his home for the past eight years, had a flavor that was a mix of excitement and culture, but that was to be expected in a sophisticated city of over 600,000 people, he guessed.
He released his breath, watching the white puffs disappear. He stood on the large circular drive outside of Bledsoe’s Folly, soon to be known as...well, whatever Nate Crawford decided to name his as-yet-unopened resort. All Jonah knew was that when the chance came to restore and revitalize this twenty-year-old log mansion into a state-of-the-art, and hopefully popular destination for year-round vacations, his architect’s heart wouldn’t let him turn down the project. Not when the initial construction of the castle-like mansion had fueled his love of architecture and design all those years ago.
So he’d taken a leave of absence from his job with one of the top firms in the country and worked pretty much nonstop on the plans and blueprints for the necessary renovations.
And now he was here.
Even though he’d been less than thrilled about Nate’s condition that he be onsite for the last three months of the project in case any problems arose, Jonah had always enjoyed seeing his designs come to life. At work, he forgot everything else. And that’s just how he liked it.
He figured he could do the same thing here, even if it meant coming home. And he had to admit he was looking forward to the quiet and slow pace of his home town, especially after all the craziness—professional and personal—he’d left behind in Denver. He’d arrived late last night after driving fifteen hours straight and hadn’t made it past the living room couch at his parents’ place.
Yet, here he was at the job site first thing the next morning, anxious to see his dream turned into reality.
His shiny Cadillac Escalade looked a bit out of place in the parking lot crowded with older-model cars and trucks, but Jonah took the number of vehicles present as a good sign that the crew was already hard at work. He grabbed his white hard hat and turned to head inside, surprised when his older brother Eli pulled up the long winding paved road in a battered pickup.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Good morning to you, too, little brother.” Eli waved a piece of paper at him. “Hey, I found your note on the kitchen counter as I was heading out. Decided to stop by and—”
“What are you doing with that?” Jonah cut him off. “I left that for Mom, warning her I plan to stay out at the cabin and not to worry about getting my old room ready.”
“I know, I read it. Here, take this.” Eli handed over a travel mug stamped with the brand of the family’s ranch, The Circle D. “Jeez, you’re just like the rest of the family, a bear without your morning cup of joe. Nice to know some things haven’t changed. Oh, and welcome home.”
The enticing aroma filled Jonah’s nose and his blood cried out for caffeinated bliss. Not wanting to wake his family, he’d only grabbed a quick shower and dressed, figuring he’d see everyone tonight at dinner. He’d guessed there’d be a canteen set up inside for the crew, but this was better.
Jonah took the cup. After Eli shut off the truck and climbed out to join him, he grabbed his brother’s outstretched hand and allowed Eli to pull him into a quick hug that ended with a strong slap to his back. “Thanks, it’s...ah, it’s good to be back, but I still don’t get why you took my note.”
“You can’t stay at the cabin.” Eli stepped back and righted the dark Stetson he wore so much Jonah had often wondered if his brother slept with the darn thing. “It’s been rented.”
Surprised filled him. “You rented out my cabin?”
“Technically, it wasn’t me. It was Mom. And it’s not your cabin.”
“I designed it. I built it. It’s on the acreage Grandpa and Dad set aside for me.” Jonah held tight to the mug as the memories that went along with the one bedroom cabin he’d forged with his own hands came crashing back to him. After eight years one would think he’d be over it by now. “Why would Mom rent my cabin to a stranger?”
“I guess because nobody knew when you planned to show your face in town again.” Eli turned and headed for the main house. “This place must still have working bathrooms, right?”
Jonah sighed and followed his brother toward the oversize double front doors. Yes, he’d missed both Thanksgiving and Christmas, the two times he made a point of returning home over the past few years.
“I couldn’t be here because I was out of the country most of last year working on a major project,” he said as he and Eli stepped through the rustic mahogany-and-iron entryway that was original to the building.
“And when you got back to the U.S. you still didn’t visit.”
“But I did call. I do have a life, and a job in Denver, you know.”
“I know that and you know that. Mom? Not so much. She and Dad were really excited to find out you were the lead architect behind the redesign of this place. The fact they had to hear about it from your boss didn’t go over so well.”
Jonah had planned to tell his folks about working with Nate Crawford, but his life had been going non-stop since he’d agreed to take on the project. “Well, I’m home now and since I’m going to stick around until at least Christmas I’d like to stay at my cabin.”
“Why? You never stayed there before.”
Because he hadn’t actually finished the darn thing until a couple of years ago, working on it whenever he was home. Besides, it was time to get rid of some old ghosts, but Jonah wasn’t going to share that.
“There must be plenty of available housing from those who left town after the flood last year.” Including his ex-wife, he thought, taking a long sip of the strong brew despite the steamy vapors. “Mom can tell the renter they have to move. Or I’ll tell them. It’s my place so technically I’m the landlord.”
“Great. Here’s your chance.”
His brother pointed out Jonah’s boss across the room.
Nate Crawford stood near one of the room’s best features, the original stone fireplace, with two women. One was his fiancée, whom Jonah had met when she’d come with Nate to Denver for one of their many meetings and the other was a stunningly beautiful brunette.
A powerful jolt raced through his veins and Jonah immediately blamed the mouthful of java he managed to choke down. He took in her dark brown hair, a mass of curls that just touched the wide neckline of a bright purple sweater that hung down far past her hips, but still managed to display feminine curves in all the right places.
Or maybe it was her black skintight, sorry excuse for pants that did that.
He couldn’t make out what she was holding in her arms, but then she reached up and pushed a handful of those curls off her face, releasing a jangle from the stack of bracelets that slid from her wrist to her elbow as she turned in a slow circle, her gaze seemingly locked on the empty walls of the room as her ankle-high boots clicked on the newly finished reclaimed barn wood floor. Then Nate’s fiancée touched her arm and the two started to talk.
Staring was rude, gawking like a teenager was worse, but for whatever reason Jonah was helpless to look away.
“Yeah, that’s the typical reaction.” Eli reached around and waved his hand in front of Jonah’s face. “Not hard to tell Vanessa isn’t from around here, huh? Which is why she needed a place to stay. Like your cabin.”
As if she heard them, or maybe because Callie was now pointing in his direction, the beauty looked over and caught him watching her. Jonah snapped out of his dazed state and pushed his brother’s hand away, realizing at that moment the woman he’d been transfixed by was the one sleeping in his bed.
Whoa! Nope, not going there!
Yeah, he’d also built the king-size log bed that took up most of the one bedroom in the cabin, but still...
“She’s the renter?” he finally asked, turning his back on her, and his boss, to face his brother again.
“That’s her,” Eli said, then chuckled. “Can I stick around and watch you go all Scrooge-like?”
“Don’t you have someplace to be? Like the men’s room? Or the ranch?”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Eli grinned and backed away. “Gee, all the Daltons under one roof again. Not sure how Derek is going to feel about that, but the twins and the folks are going to be in heaven.”
Jonah scowled, watching his brother stop and chat with a few workers before disappearing around a corner. He should go over and let Nate know he’d arrived, but his unexpected reaction to— What had Eli said was her name?
And why did he care?
* * *
The cool touch to her arm jolted Vanessa out of her self-imposed trance. She dropped her hand to her side, noticing for the first time that the interior of the resort had gotten busy as members of the construction crew moved from room to room, the noise of their chatter and work tools filled the air while she’d been trying to conjure up something—anything—for the mural.
At some point during her daydreaming she’d handed off her cup of hot chocolate and pulled a sketch pad from her oversize leather bag, but other than grabbing a trio of pens and holding them one-handed in a familiar pretzel twist of fingers, she had...
Nothing.
“I hope your silence is a sign that you’re already brimming with ideas for the mural,” Callie said. “I think Nate’s suggestion is wonderful.”
Despite the panic ricocheting inside of her, Vanessa’s smile came easy. One of the first people she’d met after moving to Rust Creek Falls had been Callie, who was also considered a newcomer in town after she left Chicago back in January. “You think Nate is wonderful.”
Callie’s eyes were bright as she glanced at the tall man next to her talking with a member of the construction crew. “Yes, I do. It’s funny, but from the moment I saw him—oh, look, there’s Jonah.”
Vanessa’s gaze followed Callie’s pointed finger and amazingly the panic over her creative block quieted, replaced with a warm glow that surprised her as much as the way the handsome man stared at them.
At her.
Did she know him? He looked vaguely familiar, but Vanessa was sure they hadn’t been introduced before. No, she’d have remembered if she’d met this man.
Unlike the majority of the men here at the resort and in Rust Creek Falls with their broken-in jeans, T-shirts and flannel button-downs in every plaid pattern and color combination imaginable, he was dressed in black business slacks and a dress shirt.
He was tall, over six feet she guessed, and his slightly mussed brown hair showed hints of gold when the sunlight caught it as he turned away. Her gaze lingered over the way his shoulders filled the expensive cut of his dark gray suit jacket that she’d bet her last pair of Manolos was cashmere. The only thing that made him fit in was the hard hat he held in one hand.
“Who is that?”
Callie smiled and Vanessa realized she’d spoken the question aloud. “I mean, I haven’t seen him around town.” She paused, catching the capped end of one of her pens between her teeth. “At least I don’t think I have.”
“Well, you’ve certainly dated enough of the single men in town to know.”
Vanessa flipped her wrist and pointed her pen at Callie. “Hey! Six dates in three months isn’t that many.”
“Six dates with six different guys.”
“Five.” Vanessa had made the mistake of going out twice with the same cowboy. There wouldn’t be a third time. “But who’s counting? Besides, not everyone believes in love at first sight. I’m more of the ‘you only live once, so enjoy yourself’ kind of girl.”
Unlike half of the women in the town’s Newcomers Club, it seems.
Besides Callie, two other members—Mallory Franklin and Cecelia Clifton—had also found happily-ever-after in the past few months and were sporting pretty engagement rings, even though Mallory claimed she hadn’t specifically moved to Rust Creek Falls for the great “Gal Rush” as many of the locals called the arrival of females over the past year or so. She’d initially come to town to raise her orphaned niece, the little girl her sister and brother-in-law had adopted from China. Then she fell in love with former playboy rancher, Caleb Dalton.
“Hey, Jonah!” Nate called out, “Come over and join us.”
The man hesitated, but then spun back around and headed across the room toward them, the hard hat now perched on his head with a rakish tilt. Callie backed up a few steps toward her fiancé and sent Vanessa a quick wink. She grinned in response and followed, happier now that the conversation had shifted away from the mural she still hadn’t officially agreed to do.
“Welcome home.” Nate held out his hand. “When did you get in?”
“Late last night.” He switched his travel mug from one hand to the other and shook Nate’s. “Very late. Hence, the need for coffee.”
“There’s always a need for coffee.” Nate released him and turned to her and Callie. “You remember Callie?”
He nodded. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too, Jonah. I bet you’re glad to be home.”
A shuttered look filled his gaze for a moment bringing Vanessa’s attention to his green-gold hazel eyes. Tired eyes. The man looked like he could use a good night’s sleep and it was barely eight in the morning.
“Yes, it is,” he said, then turned back to Nate. “Sorry I’m a day late. I know I said October first, but I got stuck on business—”
“Hey, one day doesn’t matter. Did you read my latest email?”
“I meant to, but yesterday was all about tying up loose ends and a long drive. Did I miss something important?”
“Yes, but I think this is better, anyway. Remember when I said I had a great idea for the lobby?” Nate waved his hand toward Vanessa. “Well, here she is.”
The stranger turned his gaze to her, the expression on his face as blank as the walls—as her imagination. Well, blank when it came to the mural. Suddenly she was coming up with some great ideas for her and this handsome guy.
Vanessa forced out a quick laugh, thankful it sounded so relaxed and stuck out her hand. “Gee, you make me sound like a pole dancer or something. Hi, I’m Vanessa Brent.”
“Jonah Dalton.”
He took her hand in his and heat engulfed her fingers. Where had the tingling come from that turned the heat up to volcanic level?
The widening of his eyes told her he felt it, too, and he quickly released her, tipped his mug again and took a long gulp. It was then she noticed the logo on the side. “Dalton...are you related to either of the Daltons here in town?”
He nodded, tugging the brim of his hard hat a bit lower. “Charles and Rita Dalton are my folks.”
“Oh, my goodness! What a small world!” Vanessa hugged her sketch pad to her chest. “Your parents are the sweetest people. I mean, your whole family is so nice. I’m renting a cabin on the Circle D Ranch.”
“You don’t say.”
“Do you know the place? When I was looking to move out of the boardinghouse in town, you mom insisted she had the perfect cabin and she was right! The living room has this one wall that’s a huge single pane of glass—” she waved a hand at the windows that filled the other side of the room “—nothing like that, of course, but the views of the ranch and the mountains are amazing. I’m still learning how to work the woodstoves, the nights have been getting chilly, but the best thing is the claw-footed tub in the bathroom.” Vanessa closed her eyes for a moment a sighed. “Oh, fill that baby with foamy bubbles, give me a good book and I’m soaking for hours up to my—”
The sound of choking had her eyes flying open in time to see Jonah thumping at his chest with his fist. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” One more thump and then he cleared his throat. “Last mouthful of coffee went down the wrong way. Yes, I know the cabin. I grew up on the Circle D Ranch.”
“So, are you a cowboy like your brothers?” It wasn’t hard to picture him in a classic Stetson instead of the hard hat he wore. “Although, I’m guessing from your current chapeau you’re working here on the renovation?”
Both Nate and Callie laughed, reminding Vanessa she wasn’t standing here alone with this long lost Dalton son she’d now recognized from the numerous family photos in the main house on the Dalton’s ranch.
“Yes, Jonah is working on the resort. He’s the lead architect on this project,” Nate explained. “All the innovative building techniques we’re putting into this place to turn it into a premier resort are his. He’s also the lead on all of the interior design so you’ll be working for him. In a way.”
“She will?” Jonah asked, clearly confused. “As what?”
“An artist,” Nate said. “I’ve commissioned Vanessa to paint a mural over the registration desk in the front lobby.”
“You have?” The confusion on his face gave way to something closer to annoyance. “When?”
“Just today,” Vanessa chimed in. “But I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Hmmm, interesting response. One arched eyebrow from her told him he was free to continue.
“No, that came out—what I meant was we’ve already got the designs for the interior furnishings in place.” Jonah’s gaze darted from Vanessa to Callie and back to Nate. “I mentioned earlier this week that Rothschild—the firm in Denver we hired—is sending a representative in a few weeks to give the team a final presentation on everything from furniture to curtains to...well, artwork.”
An emotion that hovered between resentment and relief filled Vanessa’s chest. It seemed Nate and his architect weren’t on the same page when it came to this so-called mural. Good. While the idea of taking on the commission scared her more than anything had in years, she’d admit she had been leaning toward saying yes, confident her talent hadn’t deserted her completely.
Now it didn’t seem to matter.
Chapter Two (#ulink_1804d9d8-24d6-5d95-bea1-b1d55032fb1a)
“Are you telling me you honestly didn’t know Nate had hired Vanessa to paint a mural in the resort?” Eli asked.
They’d managed to find an empty table with a couple of tall stools—one with a trio of half-finished drinks still sitting there—in the back corner of the Ace in the Hole, the local bar that catered to everyone from cowboys to bikers. Between the cracking of the pool balls against each other to the country music blaring from the jukebox for the dancers on the crowded parquet floor, the place was loud and noisy and Jonah had to lean forward to hear his brother. “No, I honestly didn’t know.”
Eli looked at him with one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t.” Jonah dropped his gaze and fixed it on the icy longneck beer he turned in slow circles against the table top. “Not that it matters now.”
“Why’s that?”
Because Vanessa had walked out this morning with Callie following close behind, leaving Nate to make it clear the mural was going to happen and since the man owned fifty-one percent of the resort, he was going to get his way.
“I missed the email explaining Nate’s vision,” Jonah said. “Add the fact the rest of the investors had already approved the idea and it’s a done deal.”
“So your vote wouldn’t have made any difference?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean—” Jonah looked at his brother again. “Wait, what makes you think I had a vote on the subject?”
Eli’s mouth rose into a half grin. “You’re one of the investors, aren’t you?”
Jonah glanced around. No one seemed interested in their conversation, but he kept his voice low. “Why would you think I’d be—”
“Give me some credit, little brother. You’ve been in love with that old place from the moment it was built back when we were kids. You used to ride all the way from the ranch just to watch it being constructed. Even when it sat empty for years, you’d sneak in and hang out there. Remember that night with the football players from Kalispell?”
It took him a moment, but then Jonah smiled. “Yeah, we just about had them out of there, convinced the place was haunted, until Derek tried to steal their beer. That was a heck of a fight.”
“Only because that one guy had a can of spray paint aimed at one of the walls. You took him out with a flying karate leap and the fists started flying.”
It’d been him, his two brothers and three cousins—the Dalton gang as they’d been known back then—against the entire offensive line from the nearby high school, but they’d won. At least until word got back to the town sheriff and their folks. “I never shoveled so much horse manure in my life as we did that fall.”
“Anyway, I figured a rich and famous architect would have plenty—”
“I’m not famous.” Jonah cut off his brother and sat back in the tall stool, the heel of his steel-toed cowboy boot caught on the bottom rung. “Or rich.”
Eli toasted him with his now empty bottle. “You better be tonight. You’re buying and I could use another beer.”
Jonah watched his brother turn away and attempt to flag down a waitress. He never confirmed Eli’s suspicions, but the man was right. When Nate had contacted him about his plans for the forgotten log mansion and he’d found out about the investor team Nate was putting together, Jonah had insisted on buying in, easily parting with a healthy chunk of his savings.
Still, would he have voted along with the majority for the mural?
Probably, since after talking with Nate and finally reading the email, he liked the idea and what the painting would represent, even though it meant added work for the interior-design team when it came to including the painting in the overall plan. It seemed this Vanessa Brent was a pretty famous artist from back east. He hadn’t had a chance to do any research on her yet, but obviously she, and her work, had made an impression on Nate.
Just the sight of her had done something to Jonah that hadn’t happened in a long time.
Made him curious.
What was she was doing in Rust Creek Falls? Was she here as part of the influx of females influenced by an online blog about life in the Wild West his mother and sisters had talked about at dinner? According to his dad and brothers there’d also been a fair amount of single men and families who’d come to town as well over the past year, thanks to jobs created by both the recovery work from last summer’s flooding and more recently, the resort. They’d even hired on a few new hands at the ranch, putting the bunkhouse to use again for the first time in a long time.
Along with his cabin.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Vanessa might have done to the empty slate he’d left behind after she’d moved in. Were the few pieces of furniture he’d put in still there? Including the bed he’d handcrafted and now refused to picture her sleeping in?
And that flash of anger in her golden-brown eyes when he’d shot down the idea of a mural... Why had it changed to relief just before she’d walked out?
Stifling a yawn, Jonah drained his beer and chalked up his interest in Nate’s artist to his being dead tired.
Coming to the bar his first full day back in town hadn’t been part of his plan for tonight. A quick meal and then crashing headfirst into a soft bed had been more of what he had in mind, but the talk at dinner had quickly turned from the town’s population boom to him. His job, his travels and after one too many questions from his mother about his personal life, Jonah had willingly agreed to Eli’s idea they’d grab a beer or two to celebrate his homecoming.
Two more beers arrived and Jonah swore this would be his last as he twisted off the cap. It was then he heard a familiar laugh from a nearby table. He turned and looked at the group of men playing a lively game of poker, recognizing one of them right away. “Didn’t Derek rush through dinner because he had a big project to do in the barn?”
“Yeah, so?”
Gesturing toward the table, Jonah saw Eli’s gaze shift until it landed on their younger brother who sat with his back to them.
“Guess he finished early,” Eli said. “Or else he got tired of listening to mom’s excited chatter about your many accomplishments.”
Jonah’s face heated. “I was getting tired of that, too.”
“Hey, she’s proud of you. Dad, too. You’re the first one of us kids to make it big with your fancy Denver penthouse, traveling the world designing everything from skyscrapers to celebrities’ homes, not to mention dating a famous ballerina.”
“How did you know about that?”
“Mom cut out a picture of you two attending a charity event—nice tux, by the way—from some magazine. She had it hanging on the refrigerator for months until we all got so sick of seeing it she finally moved it to her sewing room.”
He groaned. “Please tell me you’re screwing with me.”
Eli grinned. “She was hoping you’d bring the lady home for a visit.”
Not likely. He’d returned from a business trip and walked in on her entertaining a fellow dancer—a ballerina—in her apartment. Hey, he was all for a person being true to themselves, but he wasn’t going to be her stand-in. Especially after the way she’d hinted about the two of them getting married. “I haven’t dated Nadia in a year. That was over before I left for Brazil.”
“Whatever happened to that sexy architect from your office I met when I visited a few years back? Before Nadia?”
Yeah, getting involved with a coworker he’d collaborated with on a couple of projects, moving their relationship from the office to the bedroom had been a mistake, too. He didn’t realize that until she decided to move up in the world and left him to marry a partner in a rival company, when he made it clear that he and marriage were not a good fit. Not anymore. “I wasn’t rich or famous enough for her.”
“Well, I guess mom’s just getting antsy for one of us to finally settle down,” Eli said. “Again. You’re the only one who’s tried the marriage bit. As much as she and dad were against you becoming a husband while still in your teens, I think she’s ready now for some grandchildren to spoil.”
This time the memory flashed in Jonah’s head before he could brace himself.
The pregnancy test found in the trash. His joy at becoming a father after what he’d thought had been four years of wedded bliss. Lisette’s stunned silence. His mistake in thinking her reaction was because he’d ruined the surprise.
Yeah, she surprised him all right—
“Hey, you okay?” Eli clicked the bottom edge of his bottle against Jonah’s, pulling him from the past. “You grip that beer any tighter and it’s going to shatter in your hand.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” He must be. He hadn’t thought about that night in a long time. It was almost like it’d all happened to someone else. Someone he used to be. He forced his fingers to relax. “It’s been a long few days. Months, actually.”
“Well, you’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight. Back in your childhood bedroom.”
Same room, but thankfully the furniture had been updated. There was no way he’d be comfortable in a twin-size bed. “Very funny.”
“So, I’m guessing you decided not to kick Vanessa out?”
After the way her eyes lit up and hearing the excitement in her voice as she described the cabin, Jonah knew he couldn’t ask her to leave. It wasn’t her fault he’d come back assuming the place would still be empty. “The subject never came up, but no, I don’t plan to ask her to move.”
“She got to you, huh?”
“What’s her story?” Jonah avoided his brother’s question with one of his own. “What do you know about her?”
“Not much.” Eli shrugged. “I hadn’t met her until Mom had her over for dinner one night back in August and announced she was renting your cabin. I didn’t even know she was an artist until you mentioned it. She’s nice, always with a smile on her face and rarely at a loss for company, from what I’ve heard. But hey, my days usually run twelve to fourteen hours taking care of the ranch. I don’t have time for much else, which should show my brotherly love in saving your butt tonight by coming here. Why are you asking?”
“No reason. Just curious about who’s living in my place and who I’ll be working with for...well, for however long it takes her to paint a mural.” Jonah tipped back his beer for a long swallow.
“Maybe you should ask Derek. Seeing how he promised to teach her to ride a horse. Convenient, huh?”
The cold liquid caught in the sudden tightening of his throat. Jonah tried not to cough, but failed and did his best to hide it as he wiped at his mouth. “Derek’s chasing after her?”
“You know our brother.”
Yes, he did. Derek had been popular with the ladies ever since he’d figured out the difference between boys and girls somewhere back in elementary school. Derek did his share of chasing, but usually it was the ladies who went after him, most winding up with nothing to show for their trouble but good times and a broken heart when they got too serious.
A fire burned in his gut at the idea of Derek messing with Vanessa that way and damned if he knew why. He’d only met the woman today. Just because she’d stirred his curiosity, among other things, didn’t mean anything.
Neither did the sparks that crackled between them the moment he’d taken her hand this morning. Maybe he’d just been alone for too long. There hadn’t been a woman in his life—or his bed—in a long time. Hell, there hadn’t really been anyone since his ex-wife destroyed their marriage eight years ago and just about destroyed him along with it.
“Boy, you really must be tired.”
Jonah blinked, realizing he’d been so lost in his own thoughts he’d missed whatever his brother had said. “Yeah, I am. You must be, too. Maybe we should head home.”
“Oh, don’t leave now.” A soft feminine voice spoke. “The party’s just getting started.”
Jonah and his brother turned in unison and found three ladies standing there. His gaze immediately went to the brunette with bouncy curls who stood head and shoulders taller than the two petite blondes flanking her.
Vanessa.
She reached for the glasses on the table, handing one each to her friends. Keeping the wineglass for herself, she sent him a wink over the rim when their eyes clashed. A quick glance at all three ladies’ slightly disheveled appearances and apparent thirst at how they finished off their drinks, made him realize he and Eli had taken their table while they’d been on the dance floor.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to steal your seats.” His brother quickly came to the same conclusion and slid off his stool, but instead of stepping away—as in heading for the exit—he just moved to make room. “It’s pretty crowded tonight. Do you mind if we share?”
“Only if you’re buying the next round.” One of the blondes spoke while the other giggled.
Yeah, actually giggled.
Vanessa smiled, remembering what it felt like to be barely legal enough be in a bar. Not that at twenty-six she was that much older than her new friends, but there were many times she felt much older than her actual age.
And woefully out of shape.
Grabbing at the front of her sweater, she yanked it back and forth, enjoying the slight breeze against her heated skin. Thursday nights were busy here at the Ace and the dance floor was crowded. She was finally getting the hang of the steps, dips and sways that went along with country line dancing, but boy, she wished she’d thought to change her outfit before coming tonight.
She had, in fact, almost stayed home, but then she’d seen the reminder on her calendar and once again thought about the list.
Number sixteen: learn how to line dance.
She’d arrived early but the bar had filled up quickly, so she’d offered to share her table with the two girls she’d just met tonight who managed somehow not to look the least bit sweaty or have a lock of their flowing golden manes out of place.
“Of course, I’m buying.” Eli readily agreed and offered to escort the ladies to the bar. He started to walk away, but then stopped and pointed back at Jonah and her. “No need for introductions, right? You two remember each other?”
She sidled a look in Jonah’s direction. Oh, yes, she remembered him.
In fact, Vanessa hadn’t been able to think about much else but Jonah Dalton all day, even when she should’ve been concentrating on the design for the mural that after much more prodding from Nate and Callie was back on.
“Yep, I think we’ll be fine.” Ignoring the stool he’d vacated the same time as his brother, Vanessa moved closer to the table and set her empty glass down. “Hello again, Mr. Dalton.”
“Please, call me Jonah.”
There they were again. She’d thought she’d imagined the tingling that felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks dancing along her skin at the smooth tone of his voice the few minutes they had talked this morning, but now he’d only spoken four words and they were back. Like gangbusters.
Maybe she should just peel off this darn sweater. It’s not like she didn’t have anything on beneath it. In fact, she wore a double-layer tank top—
“What can I get for you at the bar, Vanessa?” Eli asked. “Another glass of wine? Maybe a bucket of ice water?”
His question caused her to stop her frantic moves, her hand now still against her chest. “Oh, an ice water would be great. Just a glass.”
Eli smiled, then looked at his brother. “Jonah? Another beer?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
Hmmm, four more words but with an edge to them this time. Eli and the girls disappeared into the crowd. Vanessa leaned against the table, elbows propped along the edge and her beloved bracelets jangling as they landed on the smooth surface. “So, are you having fun...Jonah?”
“I’d rather be in bed.”
Five words this time and boy, the heat level rose again. That’s it. She straightened and eased behind Jonah, as he stood between the table and the back wall, one hand already under the bottom edge of her sweater. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
He started to look back over one impossibly wide shoulder, but she nudged him forward with her elbow. “Just give me a minute, I need to...”
A quick tug and one arm came free. After a tussle with both her bracelets and oversize hoop earrings, she deftly pulled the garment over her head. The cool air lapping at her damp skin felt wonderful. “Ah, so much better.”
Running her fingers through her hair would be a lost cause, the wayward curls did whatever they pleased, but she did it anyway and then adjusted her bra straps to make sure they didn’t show.
“Are you finished back there?”
The confusion laced in Jonah’s question made her smile. That and the fact he was still using five-word sentences.
“Thanks for being my screen.” She stepped back around to the table, laying her sweater over the closest stool. “I don’t think anyone noticed.”
Ha! Now she’d done it. Twice!
“Noticed what?” Jonah asked, looking at her. His gaze stilled, locked somewhere around her mouth before it slowly traveled the length of her body.
The slow appraisal caused those pinpricks to rise into goose bumps along her bare arms. She quickly blamed it on the bar’s air-conditioning, but her girly parts enjoyed his perusal so much her toes curled inside her favorite suede ankle boots.
“You—ah, you changed.” Jonah’s words came out in a low whisper. He lifted his beer to his mouth, ready to tip it back, but then noticed the bottle was empty and set it back down.
“Actually, I just took off a layer.” She tugged the edges of the tank top down over her hips, but it barely covered the pockets on her leggings where her phone, driver’s license and cash were safely tucked away. “All that dancing made me hot.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Vanessa smiled and leaned against the table again. “Hmmm, I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”
Jonah started to reply, but before he could, Vanessa’s gaze caught on something—or should she say someone—on the other side of the room.
Without stopping to think about what she was doing, she laid a hand over Jonah’s and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Hey, architect, want to be a hero?”
His gaze dropped to their hands for a moment, and then he looked at her again. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a cowboy—tall, big shoulders, plaid shirt—heading this way.”
Jonah quickly looked around the bar. “You do realize you’ve just described about every man in here?”
“This one’s wearing a hat like your brother’s...I know, a lot of men are, but he’s standing on the other side of the third pool table and stealing glances at me with a determined look on his face.”
This time Jonah glanced to his left and Vanessa watched as the two men made eye contact. Oh, boy, she hoped this was a good idea.
“Is that bothering you?” He turned back to her.
“Well, ever since I told him I don’t kiss on the first date, he’s been angling to get me to go out with him again.”
Jonah’s hazel eyes darkened. “For a second date?”
“Third, actually. I didn’t kiss him the last time, either,” she hurried to explain, wanting him to understand. “I just wanted to get to know him a bit better, but no sparks, ya know? I told him it would be better if we were just friends, but the guy won’t take no for an answer.”
At that moment Eli returned, setting two beers and her glass of ice water down with a noisy clank before pushing their drinks across the table. “Your friends decided to stop by the ladies’ room—drinks in hand—so who knows if we’ll see them again. Hey, look at you. Getting more comfortable?”
“Much.” Vanessa reached for her glass, enjoying a long sip of the cool liquid. She didn’t know if her throat was so dry because of the dancing or this crazy idea of hers. “Oh, I so needed that.”
Jonah took a long swallow from his beer. “Yeah, me, too.”
“So, what do you say?” She set the glass back down, and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Help a girl out?”
Eli’s gaze bounced back and forth between them, before it landed on her hand on Jonah’s wrist. “Ah, did I miss something?”
“I just need a favor from your brother.”
“Jeez, I’m the one who bought the lady a drink.”
Jonah shot his brother a dark look, then turned to her again. “What do you want me to do?”
Now that he was agreeable, Vanessa realized she was at a loss for ideas. Boy, what else was new?
Was it enough they were standing here, practically holding hands? Maybe she should slide a bit closer? Press up against his shoulder?
Biting down on her bottom lip, she tried to come up with something when the jukebox switched songs and a classic country music ballad came on.
“Dance with me,” she said.
This time Eli laughed. “Oh, you’ve picked yourself the wrong rescuer, Vanessa. If there’s one thing Jonah doesn’t like to do, it’s dance.”
Okay, maybe it would be enough if she just stood next to him. Surely, her admirer wouldn’t cause any trouble if it was clear she was here with someone else, and now that Eli was back...
“How presumptuous of me. I’m sorry.” She released her hold, her fingers lightly sliding back across his skin. “I guess I’ve got to learn that I can’t assume every man in town is a cowboy or likes to two-step. Never even thought—”
Jonah surprised her by capturing her hand in his. “Come on, let’s dance.”
Chapter Three (#ulink_5e2e1ff7-31cf-51a2-be82-1fbf329a09eb)
Jonah ignored the shock on his brother’s face, especially when it morphed into a smirk. He instead concentrated on the surprise—turned delight—on Vanessa’s. Her asking him to dance was just another way she’d surprised him since she’d walked up to their table tonight. Her table. Hell, since he’d walked into his resort and found her standing there.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He shot a glance at Vanessa’s admirer, who looked vaguely familiar and was heading their way. Releasing her hand, he gestured toward the already crowded dance floor. “After you.”
She rewarded him with a bright smile and then turned on one heel of those sexy boots. Moving in close behind her as they maneuvered around the tables, he placed a hand at the small of her back. Her top felt slightly damp and the heat of her skin easily melted through the soft cotton material to warm his fingertips.
Damn, there went those sparks again, just like the glowing spatter from a welder’s torch to steel, these figurative sparks would burn just as easily of he got too close.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
His brother was right. Jonah had never been a big fan of dancing and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done any two-stepping, slow speed or otherwise. And since she’d stripped off that sweater and wore nothing but a flimsy tank top that showed off toned arms and sexy cleavage, how was he going to hold her in his arms and not—
They reached the parquet floor and instead of waiting for an opening crowded outer circle of couples, Vanessa moved into the fray, spun around and assumed the position.
He moved in, placing one hand just beneath her left shoulder blade and lightly took her right hand in his. Two quick steps, one slow and—
“Oh!” Her booted foot knocked right into his. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. It’s takes a few minutes to get into the swing—” She did it again and ending up bumping into the couple behind her when she tried to back away and find her rhythm at the same time.
“Sorry about that, folks,” he said to the man when he turned and glared at him over his shoulder, then focused again on his dance partner. “Vanessa, do you know how to two-step?”
Her nose scrunched up. “Not really. I’ve been watching the couples when I’m here at the bar and I want to learn, even though it’s not on my—” She stopped and bit down on her bottom lip for a moment. “I’ve been concentrating on line dancing.”
Jonah glanced to his left and found the center of the dance floor filled with couples, but moving much slower. He stepped out of the ring of couples and pulled Vanessa in closer.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Dancing.” He turned to face her again, this time sliding his hand to the small of her back, holding her in place—much closer this time—as he started to move in an unhurried circle. “Isn’t that what this is called?”
“Ah, yes.” Her stiff posture relaxed as she smiled, moving her hand up to circle his neck while aligning her body with his from his chest to his knees. “I believe it is. You know, I always wondered why couples would gather out here in the center of the floor and slow dance.”
The press of her soft curves reminded Jonah again of how long it’d been since he’d held a woman in his arms. “Maybe because one of them doesn’t know how to two-step.”
“Or maybe they want to be able to talk and get to know each other a little better.”
“They can’t do that while sitting at a table?”
She laughed softly, her puffs of breath enticingly warm against his throat. “Probably wouldn’t be as much fun.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“When was the last time you did any dancing?” she asked. “Country or any other style?”
It took him a minute as he thought back. The charity event in Denver where that photograph of him and Nadia had been taken. “It’s been over a year.”
“Don’t get out much?”
“I’ve been working quite a bit. Got back from a year in Brazil in the spring and started working on the resort project in August.”
“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play, architect.”
Yeah, many probably considered him a dull guy, but dedication to his work was what got him through the hardest time of his life.
Not wanting to go down that path, Jonah figured he and Vanessa probably should get to know one another better since they were going to be working together, but first things first.
He tightened his grip on her hand before bringing it in to rest against his chest. “I owe you an apology for my rudeness this morning.”
She leaned back and looked up at him. “I take it finding out about me and the mural was a surprise?”
Boy that seemed to be the word for the evening. “Yes.” He waited a moment and then added, “But a nice one.”
A tilt of her head told him she wasn’t sure if she believed him. “Why do I get the feeling a certain architect doesn’t like surprises.”
That had been more of a statement than a question, so Jonah remained silent. The truth was he hated them. Always had. Even as a kid, he liked knowing what was happening, what was coming down the road and when.
Birthdays and Christmas mornings were only made better once his folks took his detailed lists of gift ideas seriously. His brothers had messed with him a time or two over the years, but once he got into high school his life revolved around his studies and the girl he’d started dating his freshman year.
The only girl for him until everything changed eight years ago.
“No apology is necessary,” Vanessa continued, cutting into his thoughts. “I’m happy you’re on board with the idea now.”
Glad she wasn’t upset with his behavior, Jonah wove his way back to his original intent. “Very much on board. I’ll need to get our interior-design team in the loop on this, sharing any preliminary drawings and color choices you have for the mural with them.”
Vanessa dropped her gaze from his. “Yes, of course, you will.”
“I’ll admit I don’t know much about your work or even how a mural is painted. Do you have any ideas or sketches yet?”
“I just found out about Nate’s idea this morning, as well.” Her shoulders stiffened and her feet once again became tangled with his. “Oops! Sorry about that. Ah, it’s going to take me some time to come up with...a plan, a design.”
Jonah wondered how much time, the analytical side of his brain already making plans as he mentally reviewed the upcoming schedule.
“The main hall where you’ll be working is pretty much finished except for the furnishings and such, so you won’t have to worry about any construction mess getting in the way,” he said. “Of course, we’ll have to build you scaffolding depending on the size and scope of the mural.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“And find a way to give you as much privacy as you need, but then again, it is a construction site so I hope you can work with noise and people. Do artists tend to prefer quiet?”
“Yes, s-some do. I usually work alone, but I’m sure I’ll be able to manage.”
Jonah picked up on the hesitation in her words. “Did Nate tell you the grand opening of the resort is planned for the Christmas holidays? That’s less than twelve weeks away. Does that time frame work for you? I hate to have the project half finished—”
“Wow, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
Vanessa’s question cut into his sentence, silencing him for a moment as he gave it serious thought. “Yes, actually, it has been mentioned a time or two. Especially when it comes to work.”
“So, let’s not talk about work. Or talk at all.” She trailed her fingertips across the back of his neck, just along the edge of his shirt collar. “Just enjoy the music, the dancing...the moment.”
She was right. They had plenty of time to talk about the mural and resort later. It’d been a long day and while dancing was the last thing he’d ever thought he’d be doing tonight, he had to admit it felt pretty damn good to hold her in his arms.
Pressing his cheek to her hair, he pulled in a deep breath and a fresh, flowery scent filled his head. He relaxed for the first time since he’d come home.
As the song ended and another began, Vanessa didn’t make any move to step away. In fact, she seemed to cling tighter. Her lush curves felt great, especially since the last woman he danced with was so thin and delicate he’d often wondered if she’d break if he held her too tight.
“Not going anywhere,” he whispered.
The tension eased from her body and they danced through that song and a third one before the music selection changed and things got lively again.
“Let me guess,” Vanessa stepped back when he stopped moving. “You’re not interested in doing any line dancing.”
“You’ve guessed right.”
She smiled, moved out of his embrace and headed off the dance floor. Jonah fell into step behind her as they made their way through the crowd, almost bumping into her when she suddenly stopped.
“Ah, hello, Tommy.”
Jonah looked over her shoulder and found the cowboy she’d been trying to dodge standing right in front of them. Taking a step closer and to one side, he again placed a hand at the small of her back, and moved in next to her.
“Jonah.” She turned, a look of relief on her face. “This is my friend, Tommy Wheeler. Tommy, this is Jonah Dalton, my...um, my...”
“Date.” The word popped out of his mouth before he could think about it, but the dazzling smile of Vanessa’s was worth the white lie. “Nice to meet you, Tommy.”
The cowboy pushed up the brim of his hat and offered Jonah a long look before finally taking his outstretched hand. “Dalton,” he said. “You related to Anderson Dalton?”
“My cousin, why?”
“Just curious.” Tommy finished the handshake. “I’ve worked on the Daltons ranch for the last ten years or so.”
Okay, so maybe that’s why he looked familiar. “They’re a good outfit. Right up there with The Circle D.”
“You don’t work for your family’s ranch.”
It wasn’t a question. “No, I’m back in town to work on the renovation of the new resort.”
Tommy only responded with a nod of his head, and then turned his attention back to Vanessa. “So, how about a dance?”
“No, thanks. It’s getting a bit late.”
He glanced at his watch. “At ten o’clock? You and I have been out later than this, darling.”
Was it his imagination or did Vanessa just lean in a bit closer to him?
“Yes, but that’s all in the past now,” she said, her fingers playing with the numerous bracelets on her wrist. “And I think it’s time I head home.”
“We.” Jonah corrected her, again surprised when the word came out of his mouth. Not bothering to think as to why, or maybe he was just too tired, he drew her against his side and slid his hand around to cup her hip. “We’re heading home.”
They were?
Vanessa felt like a tennis ball, bouncing back and forth between Tommy and Jonah, but she never expected him to say that.
Heck, hearing him call himself her date had weakened her knees. Or was the sensation from how amazing it’d been to be in his arms as they danced? Or the way he held her right now?
“We are?” Her gaze collided with his for a second and she read understanding in Jonah’s dark hazel eyes. She turned back to Tommy and smiled. “Ah, yes, we are. So, I’ll—ah, we’ll see you later.”
With Jonah’s hand pressing against her back—oh boy, that felt good, too—she walked past Tommy and headed back to their table. Eli Dalton still sat there alone, but the bottles and glasses had multiplied, indicating he had company at some point while they were gone.
Jonah dropped his hand from her hip, putting some distance between them just before Eli looked their way. On purpose? Probably. A few dances and a few fibs to an ardent admirer didn’t make them a couple.
Far from it.
They were...coworkers, she guessed, for lack of a better description, from the many questions he had about the mural. Questions she didn’t have any answers to.
Yet.
But she would, she hoped.
She also hoped to get better acquainted with Jonah because she liked him. More so than any of the first dates (or seconds!) she’d gone on since coming to Rust Creek Falls. She’d been waiting for the right cowboy to come along. Could Jonah Dalton be the one?
“Hey, congratulations, Vanessa.” Eli said, toasting her with a raised beer. “You not only got my little brother on the dance floor, you managed to keep him out there. What’s your secret?”
She glanced at Jonah, already deciding she wasn’t going to share that he’d actually been the one who offered to stay for more than one song.
“I’m not sure.” She grabbed her glass, which was now just water as the ice had long melted. “Once he figured out I’m still a newbie at two-stepping I’m lucky he didn’t go off and leave me standing there.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Jonah’s soft words caused her to look at him again. “I know that.”
He dropped her gaze, focusing on the table for a moment before looking up at his brother. “I guess all of this means you aren’t ready to head home? Or are you having a party of one?”
“The blondes returned. They’re on the dance floor now and no, I’m not ready to leave.” Eli tipped his head toward the poker table. “Besides, Derek’s still playing. I thought I’d stick around. You know, just in case.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but Jonah seemed to understand the message. “Any chance you can get a ride home from your new friends? I’m ready to get out of here.”
“I’ll take you.” Vanessa spoke before Eli could open his mouth. “I mean, that’s what we said...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “We’re both heading back to the same place. You to the ranch house, me to the cabin. You are staying with your folks, right?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s staying at the big house.” Eli grinned.
“You okay to drive?” Jonah asked his brother.
Eli nodded. “This is my last one. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then.” Jonah turned to her, picking up her sweater and holding it out in her direction. “I’m ready if you are.”
They said their goodbyes, but when Jonah started for the front entrance of the bar, she grabbed his hand and motioned toward the back. He followed and soon they were outside in the cool evening air. Cool enough that Vanessa stopped and tugged on her sweater, wishing she’d remembered her jacket, once again fighting with her jewelry after she managed to get it over her head.
“You must really like those.” Jonah said, pointing at her captured wrist.
“Yes, I do.” She freed her hand, shaking her wrist to enjoy the noise her precious collection made. She then tugged the ends of the sweater down over her hips. “Some are made of beads or crystals, but my favorites are the individual metal circles that expand when you press on them. Each holds an individual charm.”
Her favorite one, purchased during her and Adele’s last trip to New York City, caught her eye. She looked down at it, gently rubbing her thumb across the raised heart engraved there.
“Gifts from friends and family?”
“Some.” Vanessa blinked hard so the tears would be gone when she looked up at him. “A few I purchased myself. When I couldn’t resist one that caught my eye, especially while trolling the internet in the wee hours of the morning.”
Jonah seemed to be studying her and she was glad for the dark shadows in the parking lot. Digging out her keys from her pocket, Vanessa pointed toward the first row of vehicles. “I’m parked down in front. A perk of getting here early.”
She started across the gravel lot and Jonah fell into step next to her. The music and noise from the bar filtered out through the open windows reminding her again of the huge favor he’d done for her tonight.
“Thank you. For dancing with me...and everything else back there,” she said as they walked. “Hopefully Tommy was smart enough to pick up on the pretending we were doing.”
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Christyne Butler
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: THE ART OF FALLING IN LOVERUST CREEK RAMBLINGSFellow Ramblers, have you heard that Jonah Dalton is back in town? The sexy, citified architect hasn′t been seen round these parts since…well, we won′t get into all that. Let′s just say love has not been kind to our Jonah.But our sources whisper he′s recently been painting the town red with spirited artist Vanessa Brent. She′s been methodically working her way through her bucket list–and taking Jonah along for the ride. You′d never guess that Vanessa′s lust for life is masking her own heartbreaking secret. Can our hardworking maverick be the one to finally make her whole? Readers, we will let you draw your own conclusions–but we think this romance is a masterpiece in the making!