Micah's Mock Matrimony

by Liz Isaacson

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Stockton and I helped Sophia and Celia with the cake,” she said. “I think you’re going to like it.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Annie said, further relaxing. “In fact, do you think we could have cake first?’

  Stockton said, “I’m going to go ask Celia,” and ran ahead of them.

  “I don’t think we can have cake first,” Bailey said.

  “Why not?” Annie asked. “I hate waiting until after dinner to eat dessert. I’m always too full then.”

  “Good point,” Bailey said, and Annie giggled again.

  They stepped through the doorway, a wall in front of them forcing them left or right. To the left and through that doorway was the main kitchen. To the right was the dining area, and Annie stepped that way, very aware that for the number of people in the house, it was entirely too quiet.

  And she knew from experience that silence meant nothing good. In fact, when children were quiet, that spelled trouble. Emily and Eden had drawn all over one of Annie’s walls during one of their silent bouts.

  So something was definitely happening in the dining room. Annie rounded the corner behind Bailey, trying to see into the kitchen and left and right and back to everything in the dining room at the same time.

  A loud blast of singing hit her, and she couldn’t help grinning as everyone who’d gathered for their second annual family Christmas party started wishing her a happy birthday. Those darn tears came again, and Annie didn’t even try to swipe them away this time.

  Celia lit the candles on a massive chocolate cake that had been set on the edge of the table, and Annie led them with both hands as the song wrapped up.

  She stepped forward to blow out the candles, and someone called, “Make a wish!”

  Annie closed her eyes, wondering what a forty-six-year-old widow should wish for.

  I wish…I wish…I wish for a cowboy billionaire of my own to fall madly in love with.

  She giggled at the ridiculous thought, opened her eyes, and blew out the candles. Thankfully, Celia had not put on forty-six, but just a four and a six, and she only had to get out two flames.

  “Thank you, everyone,” she said when the last bits of applause stopped.

  Celia gestured to the kitchen, where Sophia came out with a stack of plates and Stockton followed with forks. “And because I’ve known Annie since she moved to town, I know she likes her sweets first. So we’ll be having cake first.”

  Annie grinned at Stockton, who wore a look on his face like Christmas had come six days early. “Did you ask?”

  “She already had the cake out,” the boy said. “Honest.”

  “Hello?”

  Annie turned toward the unfamiliar male voice as others started to look past her and the cake.

  A tall man stood there, wearing cowboy boots, jeans, the biggest, puffiest coat Annie ever did see, and a deliciously white cowboy hat without a speck of snow on it.

  “I knocked,” he said. “But you must not have heard me.” He put a smile on his face, and Annie darn near swooned on the spot. He had a handsome smile, perfectly framed by a dark beard with more salt than pepper. She sure did like that silver hair on a man, and her heart shot out several extra beats.

  “I can see I’m interrupting,” he said. “I was just…hoping you’d have an open room tonight. See, my brother stayed here once with his son, and he said it was a great place, and—”

  “I’m sure we have a room,” Lily said, one of the closest ones to Celia and this new man crashing the party. “And you can stay for cake and dinner too.”

  “I can pay,” he said.

  “Oh, the lodge is booked,” Patsy said, glancing at Lily and then Graham, who’d also come forward. “But I think we can manage to have you for one night.” She gave him a tight smile, but Annie honestly couldn’t look away from him. She needed to know his name, and where he was from, and how long he was going to be in town.

  One night, rang in her ears, and she started desperately praying that God would send more snow. So much snow that none of them would even be able to leave the lodge for days.

  “Okay,” the man said, peeling off that huge coat. “I’m much obliged.” He stuck out his hand for Patsy to shake. “You seem like you’re in charge. I’m Colton Hammond.”

  Colton Hammond. It was the type of name Annie could float away on as she tried to drift to sleep, and she caught herself sighing before she jolted to attention and turned back to the cake. Chocolate. Yes, all she needed was chocolate to get herself back into the right mindset.

  A lot of chocolate.

  Sneak Peek! Her Cowboy Billionaire Birthday Wish Chapter Two

  Colton Hammond faced the group of people, picking out the ones who belonged together. There were couples here, and single women. A few women with very similar hair. Generations of people, with grandmothers, mothers, and children. Cowboys who looked a whole lot alike. Colton knew all about families like that, as he had four brothers, which included a set of twins.

  He didn’t much care who was with who and how they all connected. He needed a place to stay, and Gray had texted him the name of this lodge as Colton put the town of Ivory Peaks, and then the entire state of Colorado, in his rear-view mirror.

  And it would be just fine with him if he never went back.

  A couple of people turned and looked at him, and he moved further into the expansive area at the back of this building. No wonder they hadn’t heard him knock. The noise level here was enough to make Colton think that perhaps the back seat of his truck would make a nice bed after all.

  Only the temperatures and the threat of being buried under several feet of snow kept him standing in that kitchen. He reached up and adjusted his white cowboy hat, at least feeling like he belonged here, with all these other men wearing practically the same thing as him.

  “Cake,” a woman said, handing him a plate with a thick slab of chocolate cake on it.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, but she’d already moved on. The blonde who’d spoken earlier edged over, and Colton got the hint that he could take a spot at the table next to her. Another woman sat right in front of the cake, and he glanced at her.

  “Is it your birthday?” he asked.

  “Kind of,” she said.

  Colton reached for a fork, taking one from the pile several inches in front of him. “How do you have a kind of birthday?”

  She smiled, and Colton sure liked the way her face lit up. She had a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks that spoke to Colton. But he would not be getting trapped by a pretty face with freckles.

  Been there, done that.

  “My birthday was a couple of weeks ago,” she said. “But we decided to celebrate it at the lodge this year.” She gave him that smile again, and he noticed her straight, white teeth this time, framed by those pretty pink lips.

  His face heated and he focused on his cake. His heartbeat screamed through his bloodstream, and Colton tried to mentally reassure himself that he didn’t need to run. This woman wasn’t a threat to him. She wasn’t.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Annie,” she said.

  “Like, the sun will come out…tomorrow?”

  She blinked at him, and Colton realized how he’d sounded. “I mean, it’s a nice name.”

  “Thanks.” She took another bite of cake, and Colton took his first. His taste buds told him to take another bite. Then another.

  “This is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had,” he said. And he’d eaten at dozens of high-end restaurants in his life.

  “Celia’s doing,” Annie said, pointing with her fork. “She’s the one who gave you the cake. She’s been the chef up here for years.”

  Colton found her talking to a cowboy in the kitchen and enjoying her own cake.

  “Sophia is a chef here too,” Annie continued. “She works full time during the week. Celia’s just here on the weekends.”

  “And you’re all up here
right now,” he said.

  “Yes.” Annie tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ear, shooting a glance at him before looking away again. “The Whittakers own the lodge, right?” She nodded to the man who’d emerged from the back of the crowd. “Graham bought it several years ago. He hired me to clean, Celia to cook, and Bree to do décor and grounds. Each of the four brothers lived in the lodge at some point, but they’ve all got other houses now. They turned the lodge back into a mountain resort about eighteen months ago.”

  Colton liked listening to her voice, though he didn’t much care about the family history lesson. He nodded though, wondering if he could simply serve himself another piece of cake once he’d finished this one.

  “Anyway,” Annie said. “They hired a bunch more people, rent out all thirteen rooms—except from December twentieth to January fifth. Or so. That’s when they all gather here for their holiday family traditions and to spend time together.”

  “It’s only the nineteenth,” Colton said.

  “Yeah, we came up a day early, because of the storm.” She flashed him another smile, and Colton wondered what it would be like to be able to do that. He hadn’t had a reason to smile at will for a couple of months now, and it felt like six years instead of six weeks.

  “So,” a man said, pulling out the chair the blonde woman had vacated at some point. “What brings you to Coral Canyon?”

  Colton looked at the guy, his defenses already in place. He hadn’t anticipated having to talk to anyone for longer than a few minutes. Just his luck that he’d walk in during a family party.

  “Just getting out of town for the holidays,” he said coolly. He hadn’t fooled the other cowboy for a moment, though.

  “Well, I’m Graham Whittaker, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” He glanced up as someone said his name. “I’ll have Patsy find you a room.”

  “Thanks,” Colton said, finishing his last bite of cake.

  Graham got up and clapped Colton on the shoulder, which sent a physical vibration through his arm as well as a buzz of annoyance. He was forty-two-years-old, and he didn’t need to be talked down to like a thirty-year-old.

  He’d started businesses and sold them. He’d been part of the biggest genetic achievement of the last century. He’d gotten an MBA while working at the family company as the executive marketing director. He hated to admit it, but Colton had drank in the whole lodge in a single look, and he knew exactly what he’d do to ger more people staying here. Not to say that the lodge didn’t already have every night booked for the next year, but if he worked for them, they would.

  “You might be here more than one night,” Annie said on his left, and Colton was starting to get whiplash from looking left and right, right and left.

  “Yeah, the snow is supposed to be bad,” he said. If the weather had been clear, Colton would still be in the truck, aiming himself for the Canadian border. Frustration built in his chest, and he pushed against it. Pushed hard.

  “Time to eat.” Celia got up on a chair and held up both arms. Everyone settled down, and Colton basked in the relative silence. This place had great energy though, and Colton did like that. Compared to the farmhouse on the eastern edge of Ivory Peaks, where Colton had escaped after the failed attempt to get married, had only offered sadness and the ability to completely overwhelm a man in a single moment.

  His father had just turned seventy-eight, and he couldn’t keep up with the chores around the farm. His mother hadn’t done anything on a farm, ever, and most of her time was spent taking care of Dad’s mother, keeping them all fed and wearing clean clothes.

  Colton had thought he might be able to lie low there for a month or two. Through the New Year. Then he could return to the high-rise building in downtown Denver where HMC operated their global office.

  Then the article detailing his humiliation had been leaked to the media, complete with cellphone photos. Colton wasn’t new to dealing with the fallout of bad press. Heck, he’d done it for a living for HMC—Hammond Manufacturing Corporation—for a decade.

  But the fact that Priscilla, the woman he’d invested five years of his life into, had left him standing in the doorway of his dressing room, half ready for a wedding that had never happened. An event he’d endured by himself and that had destroyed his confidence. He didn’t know how to put together a media package to dispute the photos. He couldn’t write a statement to read to the microphones thrust in his face.

  Well, he did know how to dispute the photos, and how to write and deliver the official HMC statement.

  He didn’t want to. Not anymore.

  So after six-week hiatus at the family farm, he’d taken a security team to his condo on the north side of the city and snuck into his own house to quickly pack a couple of bags. He’d put them in the back seat of his truck, gassed up while the security guards watched, and tipped his cowboy hat to them.

  He’d been driving all day by the time the National Weather Service alert had come on the radio station he’d put on but hadn’t really been listening to. And he’d immediately called Gray to help him find somewhere to stay.

  “Whiskey Mountain Lodge,” his brother had said without a single beat of hesitation.

  And now Colton sat at the table while a petite woman controlled a room full of adults and children.

  “We have barbecue pork sandwiches,” she said, and Colton’s stomach growled. “Plenty of chips and dips. Vegetable tray. Tomato basil soup. Chicken noodle soup. Cheese biscuits. There’s plenty of everything, so come eat.”

  Another man stood up before Celia could get off the chair. He said nothing, but he swiped his cowboy hat off his head and folded his arms. To Colton’s great surprise, everyone else in the room did the same, and Colton hurried to remove his hat before anyone saw his shock.

  This man—clearly one of Graham’s brothers—said, “Dear Lord, we thank Thee for this bounty in front of us today. We’re grateful for our daddy, who worked and built a bright future for us. We’re thankful for all who work here at the lodge and provide such an amazing family experience for us. Bless them in their individual lives, and help us to remember who we are, where we came from, and who we represent. Oh, and we’re grateful for Colton and that he arrived safely. Amen.”

  “Amen,” everyone chorused, and a wave of noise rolled through the room as everyone stood up, gathered their children to them, and started filling plates with food.

  Colton got up and got out of the way, his heart touched by the prayer. We’re grateful for Colton.

  He didn’t even know that man’s name. He now held a little boy in his arms that looked to be two or three. He asked the child if he wanted every item, finally putting him in a highchair in the corner and returning to the line.

  “Come get something to eat,” a woman said, and Colton turned toward Patsy.

  He gave her a smile, but he secretly wanted to escape. His stomach growled at him to stay put, so he did. “Thank you.”

  “I’m going to put you in room three,” she said, extending a white card toward him. “Annie will go down with you. She’s right next door in room four.” Patsy gave him a professional smile and joined the fray of bodies in the kitchen.

  He made it through the line with a smile on his face, talking to anyone who spoke to him. He’d seen a couple of people leave the kitchen, and he followed them, as there was no room at the table.

  He found them in the living room, sitting on the couch with their food balanced on TV trays in front of them. “Room for one more?”

  A dark-haired woman looked at him and smiled. “Sure,” she said. “There are trays beside the fireplace.”

  Colton grabbed one with one hand as he passed the fireplace and set up his dinner in front of the loveseat, as three women had taken the spots on the couch.

  “I’m Bree,” the dark-haired woman said. “I do all the room decorating, as well as events here at the lodge.”

  He nodded at her, and she turned to the woman next to her. “This is Elise
. She does all the groundskeeping.”

  “So you’re part of the family?” he asked.

  “No,” Elise said, her long, blonde hair swinging as she shook her head.

  “Yes,” Bree said, correcting her. She shot her a look and then faced Colton. “Yes, we’re part of the family. I’ve worked her for eight years, and yes, when you work for the Whittakers, you become a Whittaker.”

  Colton switched his gaze to Elise, who clearly hadn’t worked for the Whittakers long enough. He could tell she didn’t feel like a Whittaker.

  He moved his gaze to the last woman on the couch, and she said, “I’m Rose. I’m out here, because I have three two-year-olds, and I need fifteen minutes to eat a full meal.” She smiled and started slowly buttering her roll.

  “Wow,” Colton said, unsure of what else to say. “Three two-year-olds?”

  “That’s right,” she said. “I’m sick of eating my meals one bite at a time over the course of an hour while I chase them.”

  Colton wondered who was chasing them if Rose sat out here slathering a rich, orange jam on her roll now. But he didn’t ask.

  Another woman came into the living room, and Annie paused as she assessed the situation.

  “There’s room by Colton,” Bree said, and Annie looked like she might kill the woman later. But when Annie looked at him, she had that gorgeous smile on her face. She got her tray too, and she perched on the love seat as far from him as possible.

  Colton knew he didn’t smell; he’d showered that morning. She hadn’t had a problem talking to him in the kitchen, and his mind went round and round about what he’d done to cause a change in her.

  He finished eating while the four women chatted with each other about familiar things to them that made no sense to him. When he pushed his tray back so he could stand up, Annie asked, “Would you like me to take you down to your room right now?”

  “I’m sure I can find it,” he said. How hard could it be?

  “I want to check it anyway,” she said. “Since we came up early, I cleaned the rooms in the order they were getting used. It might not be ready for you.” She left the remains of her food on her tray and joined him. “This way.”