“Real Mercers,” Harrington whispered.
Liam smiled and squeezed Shelby’s hand. She knew what that squeeze meant. That everything about their family—the Mercers, the Ingallses and Liam and Shelby’s marriage—had been real from the get-go. It had just taken them a little while to realize it, to catch up to it. Head and heart, heart and head. Now they were in sync.
And they were off to the Ingalls-Mercer wedding reception 2.0, this time at the Mercer mansion, which Larissa had gone way overboard on preparing for the ceremony and reception. Lavish was her mother-in-law’s favorite word. Fine with Shelby. This might be a very real marriage, but it felt like a dream to Shelby. A dream—and a legend—come true.
* * * * *
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DETECTIVE BARELLI’S LEGENDARY TRIPLETS
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By Katie Meyer
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Her Man on Three Rivers Ranch
by Stella Bagwell
Chapter One
Blake Hollister was fuming when he walked out the front entrance of Yavapai Bank and Trust. So much so that he didn’t see the woman on the sidewalk until he’d barreled directly into her, the force of the collision causing her to stagger backward.
With lightning-quick reflexes, he grabbed a steadying hold on her upper arm to prevent her from falling to the ground.
“Oh, pardon me, ma’am. I—”
“Blake? Blake Hollister, is that you?”
His hand continuing to grip her upper arm, he stepped back to survey the young woman he’d very nearly knocked off her feet. Shiny black hair, ocean-gray eyes and a soft wide mouth tilted in a tentative smile. Did he know this beautiful lady? She definitely seemed to recognize him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his face growing warm with embarrassment. It wasn’t like he was acquainted with a long list of women. Particularly one with a tall, curvy figure and a face like a sweet dream. If he’d met this one before, he damn well should’ve remembered the occasion. “Should I know you?”
The smile on her pink lips deepened. “It’s probably been too long for you to recall,” she told him. “I used to visit Three Rivers Ranch with my mom. She did sewing projects for your mother, Maureen.”
As he continued to take in her lovely image, recognition struck him. Could this be the raggedy little teenage girl who used to sit on the floor of the front porch and play with the dogs while their mothers discussed items to be sewn or mended?
“Don’t tell me you’re little Katherine Anderson! I can’t believe it!”
Her gray eyes sparkled, making her smile even warmer. “That was many years ago. And I wasn’t sure you even knew my name back then. My name is O’Dell now.”
Katherine Anderson had been several years younger than Blake and traveled in a totally different social circle than he and his family. And although he’d not paid any extra attention to her, he had noticed her from time to time. Mostly because she’d always looked unusually somber for someone so young.
“I remember,” he told her. “And your mother is Paulette, right?”
Appreciation flashed in her gray eyes. “That’s right.”
Recognizing his hand was still clamped around her arm, Blake dropped his hold and forced himself to put a respectable step between the two of them. “Sorry for not recognizing you right off,” he said with a rueful smile. “But you look...all grown-up.”
She laughed softly. “Believe me, you not recognizing me is a compliment. I’d hate to think I still look like my teenage years.”
He smiled at her. “I, uh, I apologize for plowing into you like that. The bank had a little mix-up on some of my accounts and the steam coming out of my ears must have blinded me.”
“No problem. It was nice running into you again. Even if it was literally,” she added impishly.
“Nice, yes.”
“Well, I’ll let you be on your way.” She extended her hand to him. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other again in another twelve years.”
Blake took her offered hand and was instantly surprised at the trusting way her fingers molded around his. Her grip was strong and warm, a reflection of the woman she’d become.
“Uh, are you busy right now?” The question blurted past his mouth before he’d realized the words were anywhere near his tongue. “If you’d like, we could walk down the street to Conchita’s and have a cup of coffee.”
Her eyebrows arched and then she glanced over both shoulders as though to make sure he was actually inviting her, rather than someone who may have been standing behind her.
“I’m running a few errands this morning,” she explained. “But a few minutes for coffee shouldn’t hurt.”
A ridiculous little thrill rushed through him. “Great, I have a few minutes, too.”
Liar, liar. You don’t have a minute to spare. Not with all kinds of work waiting on you back at Three Rivers. What the hell has come over you, Blake? She said her name was O’Dell now. That means she’s married. Or doesn’t that matter to you?
It didn’t matter if she was married, Blake mentally argued. Buying an old acquaintance a cup of coffee was hardly an indecent gesture.
He reached for her arm. “Let’s walk on this side of the street until we reach the end of the block.”
She nodded in agreement. “I was about to suggest the same thing. It’s only the first week of April, but it feels like July. And this side of the street offers a bit of shade from the blistering sun.”
As they walked along the quiet street of Wickenburg, Arizona, Blake was acutely aware of the soft, sweet scent of her perfume, the way the sun put fiery sparks in her shoulder-length black hair and the graceful sway of her hips.
“So are you here in town for long?” he asked as they paused at the street corner to check for traffic.
“I live here now,” she told him. “I moved back almost three years ago.”
Blake hoped the red he could feel on his face wasn’t that noticeable. “Oh. Mom mentioned something about you moving away. That was several years ago. I wasn’t aware you’d returned. I...don’t get away from the ranch all that much. There’s always so much to do.”
“I can understand that,” she replied. “I remember Three Rivers always being a very busy place.”
Busy? That was a mild way to describe his family business, Blake thought. As the general manager of Three Rivers Ranch, he barely had time to draw a good breath. If not for the mix-up at the bank requiring his personal attention this morning, he wouldn’t have been in town at all, much less taking time to have coffee with a woman. But that wasn’t the sort of information he needed to share with Katherine O’Dell.
They crossed the street, then traveled another half block until they reached Conchita’s coffee shop. The small pink stucco building was shaded by two large mesquite trees and offered customers outdoor seating. As they walked over a group of stepping stones that served as a sidewalk, Blake gestured to one of the tiny round tables situated on the stone patio.
“Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get the coffee. What would you like?”
“Thank you, Blake. Make mine plain coffee with one sugar.”
He seated her at one of the wrought-iron tables and entered the coffee shop through a wooden screen door. As usual, Emily-Ann Smith was behind the counter. In one corner of the small room, a radio was playing an old standard, while a table fan stirred the scents of fresh-baked pastries displayed in neat rows inside a large glass case.
The instant Emily-Ann spotted Blake, a wide smile came over her face. “Well, Blake Hollister! Should I be worried the roof is going to crash in? It’s been ages since you’ve been in for coffee.”
The quirky young woman with long auburn hair was a childhood friend of Blake’s youngest sister, Camille. “Hello, Emily-Ann. How are things going for you?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Boring without Camille around. Is she ever going to come back home?”
“Hard to say. I think she likes living down on Red Bluff.”
“Living. Hmm. You might call it that. Hiding is the way I’d put it,” she muttered, then shook her head. “Sorry, Blake. I shouldn’t have said that. What would you like this morning? I’ve sold at least fifty lattes since I opened at six. Want to try one?”
“No, thanks. Just two plain coffees.” He placed the correct amount of bills on the counter plus a tidy tip. “One with cream. The other with one sugar.”
“Two coffees? You must be needing extra caffeine today,” she said as she turned to make his order. “Guess running a ranch like Three Rivers takes a lot of energy.”
Energy? No, it took working every waking moment, along with his very heart and soul, to make sure the one-hundred-and-seventy-year-old ranch not only remained solvent, but also kept improving. It was a task that had consumed his life for the past five years and the main reason he was still single at the age of thirty-eight.
“I have a guest with me,” he explained. “She’s waiting out at one of the tables.”
Emily-Ann peered past his shoulder to the small square of window overlooking the coffee shop’s patio.
“Oh! That’s Katherine!” She quickly made a shooing gesture toward the door. “You go on outside and I’ll bring the coffees to your table. Anything else? The brownies are still warm.”
Blake pulled more bills from his wallet. “Okay, Emily-Ann. You’re a good saleslady. Two brownies. If Katherine doesn’t want it, I’ll take it home to my niece.”
“Coming right up,” she cheerfully replied.
He left the building and joined Katherine at the tiny table. “The coffee is coming right out,” he informed her. “Along with a couple of brownies. So I hope you’re hungry.”
A wide smile spread her lips and Blake was struck all over again by the warmth of her expression.
“Does anyone have to be hungry to eat a brownie?” she asked, then glanced toward the small building. “I wasn’t aware that Emily-Ann served customers outside. She must consider you very special.”
He let out a short laugh. “Not really. I’ve known her since she was just a little kid. She and my youngest sister, Camille, went through twelve grades of school together. They’re still good friends.”
“I see. I remember Camille. She was a year or so younger than me, I think. And you had another sister, too. Vivian, right?”
She apparently remembered far more about his family than he did about hers. But that wasn’t unusual. The Hollisters had lived in Yavapai County for over a century and a half. The folks who didn’t know them personally were at least familiar with the name.
“That’s right.”
“So how are your sisters? And the rest of your family?” she asked.
She was wearing a white skirt that hugged her hips and legs, with a pale blue sleeveless blouse. Every now and then the desert breeze caused the thin fabric to flutter against the thrust of her breasts, giving him a vague glimpse of some sort of lacy garment beneath. Blake couldn’t remember the last time he’d noticed a woman’s clothing or the way she smelled. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d wanted to take a few minutes out of his day to talk to one. Yet being here with Katherine was causing everything inside him to buzz with excitement.
“They’re fine. All the family is fine,” he said, then, forcing himself, added, “Except for Dad. He died five years ago.”
A somber expression stole over her face. “Yes, my father mentioned to me that Joel Hollister had died. Something about a horse accident, is that right?”
Blake nodded stiffly. “Yes. There was a horse involved, but we’re not sure how it happened.”
At that moment Emily-Ann emerged from the coffee shop carrying their orders. She smiled coyly at Katherine as she placed the coffees and brownies on the table.
“Hi, Katherine. You’re keeping some bad company this morning, aren’t you?” she teased, her gaze rolling to Blake.
“Blake was kind enough to invite me for coffee,” she told Emily-Ann. “We’ve not seen each other in years.”
Emily-Ann chuckled. “That’s not surprising. Blake treats us townsfolk like we have the plague. He only comes around in a blue moon. You two enjoy your coffee.”
With a swirl of her long skirt, Emily-Ann turned and walked back into the building. Across the table, Katherine cast him an awkward smile. “She likes to tease.”
“It wouldn’t be Emily-Ann if she wasn’t joking about something,” he said. “Which is easier than talking about herself, I suppose. She’s not had an easy life.”
Tilting her head, she gently stirred her coffee. “Most of us haven’t.”
The wistful note in her voice caused question after question to swirl through Blake’s thoughts. The most important one being whether she was married or attached to a special man.
He took a cautious sip from his coffee. “So what brought you back to Wickenburg?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“My father. He suffered a stroke and wasn’t mobile enough to care for himself. My brother, Aaron, wouldn’t offer to help and Mom didn’t really care what happened to Dad. You see, she divorced him when I was eighteen—right after I’d graduated high school. That’s when she moved me and Aaron to San Diego. She’s still living there near her sister.”
So Katherine had been positioned between bitter parents, he thought ruefully. Although Blake and his siblings had lost their father, they’d been spared that kind of misery. “So you decided to shoulder the responsibility of helping your father,” he mused aloud. “How is he doing now?”
She shook her head and Blake was certain he saw a mist of tears in her gray eyes.
“He passed away a year ago, last spring.” She
let out a heavy breath. “After I’d dealt with his funeral, I kept thinking there was nothing here in Wickenburg for me and then I decided I was wrong. My son likes it here. He’s made lots of friends in school and I’ve made new friends, too. Along with getting reacquainted with old ones. Plus, I have a job I like. So I decided not to uproot again.”
She had a son! Blake’s gaze instantly slipped to her left hand, but there was no sign of a wedding ring. Yet he wasn’t ready to make the deduction that she was single. She could’ve simply left the piece of jewelry off today.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he said. “I hadn’t heard.”
She shrugged. “At least he’s not suffering now.”
He took a bite of the brownie as more questions darted through his mind. “Tell me about your son.”
Her smile held the same sort of pride he saw on his mother’s face when she spoke of her children.
“Nick is my only child. He’s ten years old and at the moment he can’t decide whether he wants to be an air force pilot or a point guard for the Phoenix Suns. Next week, he might want to be a neurosurgeon. At least he loves school. So that’s one worry I don’t have.”
Envy slashed through Blake. At one point in his life, he’d hoped and planned to have a wife and several children of his own. But the closest he’d ever gotten was a broken engagement. Now, after three years of trying to forget the humiliation of being dumped before the wedding, Blake had pretty much convinced himself that marriage and a family weren’t meant for him.
“What about your husband? What does he do for a living?”
Her gaze turned out toward the street. “Cliff died seven years ago in a single-car accident. After that, it’s just been me and Nick on our own.”
Blake was stunned. This warm, beautiful woman had been a widow for seven long years? Raising a son on her own? It didn’t seem possible.
“I don’t know what to say, Katherine. Except that I wish things had gone better for you.”
She shrugged and Blake’s gaze was once again drawn to the shiny black waves brushing the top of her shoulders. He figured if he was ever close enough to bury his face in her hair, it would smell like flowers and sunshine. And her skin would feel just as smooth as it looked.
The Baby Switch! Page 18
