by Teri Wilson
“I had business nearby, and since I was a bit intrigued by the charming town you’d told me all about, I thought I’d check it out while I was in the area.” That’s right—the last time they’d seen each other, he’d told her all about the plans to relocate the ranch. “It seemed like a nice place to escape for a few days.”
Finn nodded, even though her answer raised more questions than it answered, such as what exactly did she need to escape from?
“I actually thought about looking you up, but I wasn’t sure if I should,” she said.
He arched a brow. “Why not?”
Avery took a deep breath, and for a long, loaded moment, the space between them felt swollen with meaning. But then she just bit her lip and shrugged.
“Are those for me?” She smiled at the bouquet in his hand.
A wave of pleasure surged through him. Whatever her reason for being here, it was great to see her again. “They sure are.”
“How very gentlemanly of you. Thank you.” She took the flowers and held them close to her chest. Her soft brown eyes seemed lovelier than ever, mirroring the rich, dark centers of the sunflowers. “Do you want to come in while I put these in some water?”
She gestured toward the interior of the boarding house, which was the last place Finn wanted to be while Melba was around.
“Actually, since you seem so interested in the area, why don’t I show you around town for a bit? I can even give you a tour of the ranch if you like.”
“A tour of the ranch,” she echoed. The flowers in her grip trembled. “Your ranch?”
Finn paused, remembering what she’d told him in Oklahoma about the supposed feud between their families. Once upon a time, Oscar Ellington and Maximilian Crawford had been friends. Best friends, according to Avery’s father. They’d roomed together in college, both majoring in agriculture and ranch management. After graduation, they’d planned to go into business together, but at the last minute, Finn’s father had changed his mind. He pulled out of the deal, and the friendship came to its tumultuous end.
“Sure,” Finn said. He and Avery weren’t their parents. He saw no reason why he couldn’t take her to the Ambling A and walk the land with her, show her how the fall colors made the mountainside look as if it were aflame.
Although, if Oscar and Maximilian had turned their youthful dreams into a reality, the ranch wouldn’t be his. It would be theirs—his and Avery’s both.
Imagine that, he thought. Being tied to Avery Ellington for life.
He could think of worse fates.
But that would never happen. Ever. He wasn’t even sure why he was entertaining the notion, other than the fact that his dad and Viv Dalton were dead set on putting an end to his independence.
“All right, then,” Avery said, but her smile turned bittersweet. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Copper and gold leaves crunched beneath Avery’s feet as she and Finn walked from his truck to the grand log cabin overlooking acres and acres of ranch land and glittering sunlit pastures where horses flicked their tails and grazed on shimmering emerald grass.
Calling it a cabin was a bit of a stretch. It looked more like a mansion made of Lincoln Logs, surrounded by a sprawling patio fashioned from artistically arranged river stones. The Rocky Mountains loomed in the background, rugged and golden. Enemy territory was quite lovely, it seemed.
Finn slipped his hand onto the small of her back as he led her toward the main house, and she tried her best to relax. An impossible task, considering that her father would probably disown her if he had any idea where she was right now. Finding out about the baby was going to kill him.
But she couldn’t worry about that now. First, she had to figure out how to tell Finn, and that seemed more difficult than ever now that this little outing was beginning to feel like a date.
Does he have to be so charming?
It was the flowers—they’d completely thrown her off her game. Which was pathetic, considering how active Finn’s Montana social life had become. He probably got a bulk discount at the nearest florist.
“This place is gorgeous,” she said. “Do all your brothers live out here?”
Finn nodded. “Logan, Knox and Hunter have cottages on the property. Xander and his family just moved into their own ranch house in town. Wilder and I live in the main house with my dad.”
His dad.
So Maximilian Crawford was here somewhere. Great.
“You look a million miles away all of a sudden.” Finn paused on the threshold to study her. “Everything okay?”
No, nothing was okay. She felt huge and overly emotional, and he was still the same ridiculously handsome man, perfectly dashing in all his clueless daddy-to-be glory.
“Actually...” Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t swallow, much less form the words she so desperately needed to say.
Tell him. Do it now.
“Yes?” He tilted his head, dark eyes glittering beneath the rim of his black Stetson.
Meeting his gaze felt impossible all of a sudden, so she glanced at his plain black T-shirt instead. But the way it hugged the solid wall of his chest was distracting to say the least.
“I, um...” She let out a lungful of air.
“You’re beautiful, that’s what you are. A sight for sore eyes. Do you have any idea how glad I am to see you?” Finn reached up and ran his hand along her jaw, caressing her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
It took every ounce of Avery’s willpower not to lean into his touch and purr like a kitten. Her body was more than ready to just go with the flow, but her thoughts were screaming.
Tell him, you coward!
“I’m relieved to hear you say that.” Butterflies took flight deep in Avery’s belly—or maybe it was their baby doing backflips at the sound of its daddy’s voice. She swallowed hard. “Because...”
Then all of a sudden, the front door swung open and she was rendered utterly speechless by the sight of her father’s mortal enemy standing on the threshold with an enormous orange pumpkin tucked under one arm.
She recognized him in an instant. His picture appeared every year in the Crawford Meats annual report, and he looked exactly the same as his slick corporate portrait. Same deep tan and lined face, same devil-may-care expression.
Maximilian Crawford stared at her for a surprised beat. Then he glanced back and forth between her and Finn until his eyes narrowed into slits. “Well, well. Howdy, you two.”
“Dad,” Finn said. There was a hint of a warning in his voice, but Maximilian seemed to ignore it.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what you’re doing keeping company with Avery Ellington?” The older man smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Maximilian Crawford had just smiled at her. She was surprised lightning didn’t strike her on the spot. If her father were dead, he’d be spinning in his grave.
“Avery’s just here for a friendly visit.” Finn’s hand moved to the small of her back again, and a shiver snaked its way up her spine. “I’m not sure you two have officially met. Avery, meet my dad, Maximilian.”
“Hello, sir.” She offered her hand.
He gave it a shake, but instead of letting go, he kept her hand clasped in his. “You’re Oscar’s little girl.”
He was going there. Okaaaay.
“One and the same,” she said, reminding herself that this man wasn’t just her father’s nemesis. He was also the grandfather of her unborn child.
“Right.” He gave her hand a light squeeze and then finally released it. “I’m not sure if your daddy ever mentioned me, but he and I go way back.”
Avery nodded. “I’m aware.”
She shot a quick glance at Finn. The night they’d slept together in Oklahoma, he didn’t seem to care much about any animosity between their families, but she’d wondered if he’d simply been do
wnplaying things in order to avoid any awkwardness between them.
Not that she’d cared. She’d been more than ready to forget about anything that got in the way of their ongoing flirtation. Besides, they’d been miles away from Dallas. Just like the famous saying—what happens in Oklahoma stays in Oklahoma.
Unless it results in an accidental pregnancy.
“Interesting man, your father.” Maximilian’s expression turned vaguely nostalgic. “We were roommates back in the day. Almost went into business together. Truth be told, I occasionally miss those times.”
Finn sneaked Avery a reassuring grin as his father’s attitude softened somewhat.
“How’s he doing? And your mom?” Maximilian shifted his pumpkin from one arm to the other. “Good, I hope.”
Avery nodded. “They’re great.”
For now, anyway. Once she started showing, all bets were off.
“Avery’s in town for a few days, so I thought I’d show her around a little bit.” Finn eyed the pumpkin. “Tell me you’re not on the way out here to try to carve that thing into a jack-o’-lantern.”
“It’s October. Of course that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Dad, this isn’t Dallas. Halloween isn’t for a few weeks. If you leave a carved pumpkin outside, it’s going to get eaten up long before the thirty-first. The coyotes will probably get it before sunup.” Finn shrugged. “If the elk don’t get to it first.”
“Fine. I’ll take it inside after it’s done. I’ve got five more to carve after this one. We can line them up by the fireplace. I just thought the place could use some holiday flair.” Maximilian grinned. “Especially since we’re welcoming a new little one to the family.”
Avery coughed, and both men turned to look at her. “Excuse me. Little one?”
They couldn’t possibly know. Could they?
“My brother Logan is a new stepdad. He and his wife have a nine-month-old little girl, and my father suddenly wants us to believe he’s transformed from a cattle baron into a doting grandfather.” Finn narrowed his gaze at his dad.
“Oh.” This seemed promising. It almost made her wish she planned on raising the baby closer to Montana, but that would be insane. She had a job back in Dallas. A family. A life. “How sweet.”
Finn held out his hands to his father. “Why don’t you leave the pumpkin carving to us? Manual labor of any kind isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
Maximilian glanced at Avery and lifted a brow. “You’re willing to stick around long enough to help Finn with my mini pumpkin patch?”
Avery couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t naive enough to believe Maximilian was just a harmless grandpa. He was a far more complicated man than that. On more than one occasion, she’d heard Finn refer to him as manipulative.
Even so, she had a difficult time reconciling the man standing in front of her—the one who wanted to carve half a dozen jack-o’-lanterns for his new baby granddaughter’s first Halloween—with the backstabbing monster her father had been describing to her for as long as she could remember.
“I think that can be arranged,” she said.
She still planned to tell Finn about the baby today. Of course she did. But what different could a few more hours make?
“I like her,” Maximilian said as he handed the pumpkin over to Finn and slapped him hard on the back. “She seems like a keeper, son.”
What on earth was she doing here?
A keeper.
Nope. No way, no how. She could have a dozen babies with Finn, but she’d never, ever be a Crawford—not if her daddy had anything to do with it.
* * *
Avery set down her paring knife and wiped her hands on a dish towel so she could inspect the pumpkin she’d been attempting to carve. Its triangle-shaped eyes were uneven, and its wide, toothy grin was definitely lopsided. Overall, though, it was a decent effort.
Or at least she though it was until she took a closer look at what Finn had managed to produce in the same amount of time.
“Wait a minute.” She frowned at twin jack-o’-lanterns on the table in front of him. “When did you start on the second one?”
He glanced at her pumpkin and stifled a grin. “Somewhere around the time you decided to give yours a square nose.”
She swatted at him with the dish towel. The nose had started out as a triangle—she wasn’t quite sure how it had ended up as a square.
Finn laughed, ducking out of the way. He managed to catch the towel and snatch it away from her before it made contact with his head. His grin was triumphant, but it softened as he met her gaze.
“You’ve got a little something.” He gestured toward the side of his face. “Right there.”
Shocker. Avery wouldn’t have been surprised to discover she was covered head to toe in pumpkin guts. The jack-o’-lantern struggle had been very real.
She wiped her cheek, and Finn shook his head, laughter dancing in his eyes.
“I just made it worse, didn’t I?” she said, looking down at her orange hands.
“Afraid so. Here, let me.” He cupped her face with irritatingly clean fingertips and dabbed at her cheek with the towel.
It was a perfectly innocent gesture. Sweet, really. But Avery’s heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest, and she had the completely inappropriate urge to kiss him as his gaze collided with hers.
She cleared her throat and backed away. She blamed pregnancy hormones...and the insanely gorgeous surroundings. Finn had set up their pumpkin-carving station on one of the log mansion’s covered porches. It had a lovely, unobstructed view of the mountains, plus an enormous outdoor fireplace crafted from stone with a weathered wooden mantel. Any woman would have melted under the circumstances.
Avery kept having to remind herself that half the female population of Rust Creek Falls likely already had.
“You’re shockingly good at this.” She arched a brow at his two perfectly carved pumpkins in an effort to get her thoughts—and sensitive libido—back under control. “Do you have a degree in festive fall decorating I don’t know about?”
“No, but I suppose it’s fair to say there are indeed things you don’t know about me. After all, our interactions have been pretty limited to business gatherings.” Avery waited for Finn to crack a joke about their night together being the exception, but he didn’t.
She wasn’t altogether sure why that made her happy, but it did. “True.”
He seemed different here than he’d been back in Dallas, and it was more than just a switch from tailored business suits to worn jeans and cowboy boots.
“So you like it here in Montana?” she asked.
“I do.” Finn nodded and stared thoughtfully at the horizon, where a mist had gathered at the base of the mountain, creating a swirl of smoky autumn colors. “Life is different here. Richer, somehow. I always liked spending time on our ranch back in Texas, but somehow I never got out there much. I spent more time in boardrooms than I did with the herd. Does that make sense?”
Her face grew warm as he glanced at her. “It does.”
Avery couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to her own family ranch, much less spent any time with the herd. She’d spent more hours with Excel spreadsheets than she ever had with actual cattle.
Finn’s gaze narrowed, and as if he could see straight inside her head, he said, “When was the last time you hand-fed a cow?”
Laughter bubbled up her throat. “Seriously? Never.”
“Never?” He clutched his chest. “You’re killing me, Princess.”
Princess.
She usually hated it when he called her that, but she decided to ignore Finn’s pet name for her for the time being, mainly because it sort of fit, as much as she was loath to admit it.
He stood and offered her his hand. “Come on.”
She placed her ha
nd in his as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and he hauled her to her feet. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He winked, and it seemed to float right through her on butterfly wings. “You trust me, don’t you, Princess?”
That was a loaded question if she’d ever heard one. “Should I?”
He gave her hand a squeeze in lieu of an actual answer, then shot her a lazy grin and tugged her in the direction of the barn.
Right. That’s what I thought.
Of course she couldn’t trust him. He might seem at home here on the farm in a way that made her think there was more to Finn Crawford than met the eye, but just because a man could carve a jack-o’-lantern and went all soft around the edges when he talked about animals didn’t mean he was ready for a family.
Avery slipped her hand from his and crossed her arms. “What about the pumpkins? Won’t coyotes come and devour them if we leave?”
Her mind had snagged on Finn’s casual reference to coyotes earlier, probably because the biggest threat to jack-o’-lanterns in her Dallas neighborhood were mischievous teens.
He glanced over her shoulder toward the porch, where Maximilian had begun cleaning up their mess and hauling the pumpkins inside.
Avery rolled her eyes. “And you call me a princess.”
He flashed a grin. “Touché.”
He took hold of her hand again, and she let him, because his rakish smile and down-home charm were getting to her. And honestly, considering she was pregnant with the man’s baby, it was a little late to be worried about hand-holding.
The barn was cool and sweet-smelling, like hay and sunshine. It reminded Avery of the horseback riding lessons she’d had as a little girl. She’d ridden English, of course. No rodeos or trail rides for the daughter of Oscar Ellington. Her childhood and teen years had been about posh country club horse shows and debutante balls.
Her thoughts snagged briefly on what might be in store for her unborn child. If she raised the baby by herself, in Dallas, she’d be setting her son or daughter up for the same type of upbringing she’d had. Her father would see to it.
