The Cabin on Bear Mountain

by Liz Isaacson

  “So I’ll go next weekend?” he asked.

  “Yes, if you can,” she answered. “I would appreciate it.”

  His lips pressed against her forehead, a sweet gesture he’d done a couple of times lately. The gentle way he made her feel cherished caused her anxiety to settle a few notches, but it didn’t disappear completely. And she wanted those lips on hers, not her temple.

  “Tell me about this new place,” she said to keep herself preoccupied and thinking about the right things.

  “It’s in central Utah,” he said. “Near the Capitol Reef National Park area. Seems to be closer to civilization than Brush Creek.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Island Park.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s more land. Comes with some equipment. In my price range. It looks promising.”

  Megan let her frustrations slip away as he spoke. He didn’t usually entertain her with long stories or even have much to say about things he was passionate about. She didn’t mind his sparse communication. If anything, it only endeared him to her more.

  “Maybe you’d like to come with me,” he said, and her heart exploded toward the back of her throat.

  “To Utah?”

  “To Utah,” he confirmed. “We’ll fly into Salt Lake. There’s got to be something to tour there. Drive down south the next day. Check things out.” He turned toward her, making eye contact this time. “Yeah?”

  She blinked, trying to decide if she really could go with him for a weekend trip to Utah. Her father would be fine. She’d make sure she didn’t schedule any meetings with her community groups. Theoretically, she could go.

  Emotionally, though, her heart quaked near an eight on the Richter scale. She somehow managed to get her voice to say, “Yeah.”

  Megan assigned Landon to finish the repairs in the chapel and then she set him to work on the bride’s room. A fresh coat of soft pink paint and a new set of alabaster baseboards really did make a huge difference. She hung a new curtain rod and a new set of curtains while he prepped the hallways for their facelift.

  By the end of the week, he’d made everything in the church look shiny and new. There were still a couple of doorways that needed fixing, and the carpet in the basement classrooms needed to be ripped out and replaced. And Megan didn’t even want to think about the balcony.

  She’d confirmed with Sterling that their wedding guests wouldn’t exceed the capacity of the main chapel, and Landon said he’d get everything else done and tackle the rebuild on the balcony last.

  “Don’t forget about the landscaping,” she’d told him.

  He’d groaned and gone back to painting. Apparently, he didn’t like yard work. Megan couldn’t blame him. She’d moved into a second-floor apartment to avoid taking care of property. She spent every moment with him that she could spare. He didn’t seem to mind, and in fact, she learned that he was deathly afraid of snakes and spiders, that his childhood horse, Brownie, was buried in the backyard under his bedroom window, and that he’d never conquered a bull named Semper Fi.

  “Came up against him six times,” Landon said on Friday afternoon as he finished up. “Never made it to the eight-second bell.”

  “You don’t sound happy about that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You won like, a million dollars, that year.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” He kicked a grin in her direction. “So we’re going over to the hardware store to pick up the cleaning supplies tonight, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Want to go to dinner?” He focused on the paintbrush in his hand.

  Megan’s insides turned warm and gooey, like she’d put a package of M&M’s in the microwave before popping them into her mouth. She loved the treat that way, because then when she bit through the outer shell, the warm, oozy chocolate would burst out.

  “Sure,” she said.

  “You think I can clean up at your place?”

  The thought of him in her apartment, looking at her photos, using her bathroom, made her skin tingle. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Great,” he said. “Because I feel like I have a film on my skin I can’t wash off here.”

  Fear sliced through her. “Do you think we have a problem with the plumbing?”

  “No, I think I need something stronger than that pink soap to wash with. That stuff does nothing.”

  “It’s cheap,” she said. “Comes in a huge bottle.”

  “I know why you buy it,” he said. “I just don’t think it does much against paint and grime and sweat.”

  She liked him painty and grimy and sweaty, but she kept that thought to herself. Watching him work had only added to her desire to have his large, capable hands on her, and she’d spent a fair number of hours this week imagining what it would be like when he finally kissed her.

  At her apartment, he disappeared into the bathroom for several minutes. He came out with clean hands and freshly combed hair. She whistled at him, and he laughed as he drew her into an embrace.

  She tensed; her heart raced; her breath caught. The moment she’d longed for had finally arrived: Landon Edmunds was going to kiss her.

  But he chuckled, ran his hands up and down her bare arms a couple of times, and stepped back. “I’m starving. Can we get pizza tonight?”

  Megan put her hands where his had just been, suddenly feeling cold without his touch. “Sure. You want to order in or go out?” She wasn’t sure what they’d do in her tiny living room, and her gaze gravitated toward the loveseat and then the television, nerves skipping through her veins all the while.

  “We can go out. We have to go to the hardware store anyway.”

  She went with him out to his truck and to the pizza parlor. He ordered spinach Alfredo with ham and pineapple while Megan opted for a margarita pizza. “In Jackson, there were tons of gourmet pizza parlors.” She leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands.

  “Yeah?” He lifted his soda glass to his lips, and she followed every movement. “What else did you like to do there? Did you do the white water rafting?”

  “No.” Her mind flew back to her life in Jackson Hole. “I did some hiking in the Tetons. Jenny Lake is gorgeous, and the walk to Phelps Lake is one of my favorites.” She didn’t mention that she’d escape civilization in favor of the National Park when she needed a break from work, from life, from Eric.

  “Huh.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t peg you for an outdoorsy woman.”

  “I’m not, not really. But I like the boat ride across the lake, and the hike to the hidden falls is only half a mile. Even I can do that.”

  “I think you can do anything you want to do, Megan.”

  “Thank you, Landon.” She beamed across the table at him, wishing he didn’t sit so far away, wishing the pizza stand didn’t fill the space between them, wishing she could hold his hand as he smiled at her.

  “So.” He exhaled. “What’s our budget for tonight?”

  Her eyebrows crinkled downward. “Budget?”

  “Yeah, for the cleaning supplies. You said the church doesn’t have a ladder either, so we’ll need that.” He took another drink. “And I want to price carpet. I just need to know the budget.”

  Megan blinked. They’d bought a bunch of stuff last week, and she’d tucked the receipt…somewhere.

  “I’ll ask my father,” she said.

  “You don’t know?”

  A surge of fear hit her at the same time the waiter set their pizza on the table. “Spinach Alfredo. Margarita. Anything else I can get for you?”

  “No,” Landon said, his gaze never leaving Megan’s. He seemed…curious, if not a little bit confused.

  The waiter left, and Megan suddenly wanted to call him back. Ask for a lemon wedge for her diet soda, a shaker of red pepper, something.

  “How can you not know what the budget is to remodel the church?” Landon asked. He didn’t so much as twitch toward his
pizza. “What if we go over?”

  Megan picked up her slice of pizza, but the thought of putting it in her mouth made her stomach revolt. “My father said there’s plenty of money.”

  “But you don’t know how much.”

  “Why does it matter?” Tears burned hot against the back of her eyes. The smell of marinara rushed her; the world narrowed and collapsed, transporting her back to that bank in Jackson Hole. It hadn’t smelled basil-y and tomato-y and cheesy. But the horror pulling through her felt the same. The disbelief shredding her confidence.

  “Excuse me,” she managed to say before practically falling off the counter-height stool and striding toward the restroom.

  Chapter 10

  Megan wasn’t sure how long she’d been hiding in the bathroom, but she felt sure at least ten minutes had passed. And yet, she couldn’t get herself to leave the safety of the women’s restroom and go face Landon’s questions, his curious looks.

  Because then she’d have to tell him. Tell him about Eric. Tell him about her failed engagement. Tell him about her inadequacies when it came to budgeting and keeping track of her finances.

  She didn’t think someone as accomplished as Landon would understand. The man probably had a financial advisor and knew where every penny of his money was spent.

  “As he should,” she murmured to her reflection. After all, when dealing with millions, accounting was important. She’d managed to keep the tears dormant, but simple thoughts brought them roaring to the corners of her eyes.

  “How can I go back out there?”

  The restroom door opened and an elderly woman came in. Their eyes met in the mirror, and recognition lit up the older woman’s face. “Megan, sweetie, how are you?”

  Lois Garland swept toward Megan, and she let her mother’s old friend hold her and comfort her. “What’s the matter?”

  Megan stepped back and shook her head, her focus on the bathroom tiles. “I—I don’t know.”

  “Must have to do with that tall, gorgeous man keeping vigil outside the door.”

  Megan yanked her gaze up. “He’s right outside?”

  “I think he was about to come in when I walked down the hall.” Lois gave her a motherly smile, and Megan’s heart twisted with longing to see her own mother again. Talk to her. Get some advice about men and what to do about Landon. What to tell him.

  “You want me to send him on his way?” Lois asked. “Because I will.”

  “No,” Megan said. “I just need to tell him something.”

  “Of course.” Lois stepped toward the bathroom stall. “Bathrooms aren’t really conversation hot spots, are they?” She locked the door behind her, and Megan faced the exit.

  Drawing a deep breath, she pushed her way into the hall, where sure enough, Landon stood waiting.

  Landon wasn’t sure why Megan had bolted, but he knew he wanted to fix it. He’d sat at that table like a fool for several minutes before heading down the hall to the bathrooms. He’d even gone so far as to ask someone if there was a dark haired woman still in the bathroom.

  From the look of horror and panic on Megan’s face, he wouldn’t have put it past her to leave the restaurant completely. Thankfully, he’d been reassured that she was still inside.

  As every second had passed, his mind had raced. He was just about to go in the women’s restroom when an elderly woman came down the hall. She’d given him a look that said she was watching him before pushing into the bathroom.

  Now, faced with Megan, his brain went on vacation again. Thankfully, his muscle memory took over. He stepped forward and ran his fingers up Megan’s arms to her shoulders. “Hey, what did I say?” Because he knew he’d said something. Her distress was his fault.

  She caved into his chest, pressing her cheek right against his pulse. He held her, right there in the hallway outside the women’s restroom, his heart tripping over itself and his worry that she’d never talk to him again evaporating at the feel of her body next to his.

  Her shoulders came up as she inhaled. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Okay, sure.” He stepped back to give her space and so he could see her face.

  “Can we eat first?”

  “We can do whatever you want, sweetheart.” He smiled at her, a gentle, timid smile—one where he hoped she could recognize his adoration. He offered her his hand, and she slipped her fingers in his without looking at him.

  Their table waited, their soda getting less fizzy by the minute. He wondered if he could send his pizza back to be warmed, but he determined not to ask. He didn’t need Megan to feel any more self-conscious than she already did.

  He waited while she situated herself on her barstool, and then he sat across from her. As if sent from heaven above, their waiter appeared. “Let me take those slices back to be reheated,” he said. Without waiting for confirmation, he swept their plates away, leaving Megan without anywhere to look but at Landon.

  Sure, she tried her napkin, then her soda. Finally, she managed to glance at him and their eyes locked.

  “Might as well just tell me now.” He made his voice as nonchalant as possible.

  She swallowed, the movement visibly difficult for her. “So I had a boyfriend in Jackson Hole.”

  Everything in Landon roared in protest. His fingers curled, and the restaurant suddenly seemed twenty degrees too hot. “Okay,” he managed to say without sounding like he’d swallowed glass.

  Megan tucked her curls behind her ear. “He was more than a boyfriend, actually. A fiancé.”

  Landon schooled his features into a blank slate, determined to let her finish before he showed any emotion, any reaction. Besides, he wasn’t sure how to feel or what to say, so the blank look came pretty easily.

  “We should’ve been married in April,” Megan said, her voice lowering in pitch and volume. “Eric worked for the same company as I did. Then they found out he was stealing money and stashing it off-shore. I found out he’d been stealing from me when I went to the bank because my debit card wouldn’t work and I was told I didn’t have access to my own money.” Her gorgeous, deep eyes found his, and he almost lost himself in them.

  He blinked, opened his mouth to speak, and waited as the server returned with their food. Landon acknowledged him but ignored his pizza. “So that’s why you…why my comment about finances upset you.”

  “I don’t have millions,” she said. “But I have enough that I’m not living paycheck to paycheck. I rarely balance my checkbook or worry about if I have enough to buy groceries.” She picked up her pizza and took a bite. Thankfully, she didn’t look like she’d throw up this time.

  He ignored her comment about having millions and focused on his own food. “I didn’t mean to stir up old pots.”

  “I know you didn’t.” She sighed, and Landon hated the weight of it. “I should’ve learned something from what happened with Eric. I should pay more attention to my accounts—and to my father’s. It just never occurred to me that you’d need to know a budget.” Her embarrassment and shame filtered across the table to him. “I’m not good at those kinds of details.”

  “Well, you can’t be perfect at everything.” He bit, chewed, and swallowed. “It’s actually kind of nice to know you’re not.” He chanced giving her a smirk, and though she looked like he’d thrown icy water in her face, after a moment, her features softened into a smile.

  “And I would like to hurt Eric.” Landon curled his fingers around his soda glass, squeezing like it was Eric’s neck.

  “He’s not worth your time.” Megan sounded dismissive, but Landon caught something in her tone that sent a shiver through him.

  “Megan, when did you break up with him?”

  “Eight months ago.”

  Landon fell back against the chair, the wind knocked right out of him. She wasn’t ready for another relationship. How could she be after only eight months? He couldn’t remember anything that had happened for a year following Lauren’s departure. And now he understood why everything abo
ut money was a big deal to Megan.

  “I can see you thinking about something,” she said.

  Landon ducked his head, cursing himself for not using his cowboy hat to his best advantage. At the same time, he wasn’t one to play games. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  “Ready for what?”

  He lifted his chin and looked her straight in the face. His heart raced like he’d just encountered a dozen rattlesnakes and couldn’t keep them from biting Crossfire. “Ready for me to be holdin’ your hand. Ready to go to Utah next weekend.” He waved his hand like whatever else their future might hold would be included. “Ready for this.”

  “I’m trying to be.” She reached across the table and put both of her hands on one of his. “I like you, Landon. I like being with you.”

  Though she’d said what he wanted to hear, he wasn’t sure he believed her. “We don’t have to go to Utah together next weekend.” He squeezed her fingers. “I can go myself. I don’t want—”

  “Did I say I didn’t want to go?” She pulled her hands back. “I don’t have to decide our entire future right now, do I?”

  “No,” he said. And she didn’t have to decide if she was ready for a relationship with him right this second. He honestly didn’t want her to. But he did wonder if she’d grow tired of him the way Lauren had. If she’d want to explore the dating pool now that she was back in it. If another cowboy would catch—

  “Great,” she said, a smile blooming on her face and causing heat to rise in Landon’s.

  Give me patience, he prayed as they finished their dinner with lighter conversation about the upcoming town celebrations, the trip to Utah, and if they could really clean the stained glass window with cotton balls and distilled water. I need patience for everything. For Megan, for finding a ranch in Utah, and for getting that window done in time for the wedding.

  Landon hadn’t anticipated Megan’s power in rallying people together. He witnessed it first hand as he pulled into the church parking lot the next morning. It seemed like every space had already been taken, and people milled about on the lawn beneath the stained glass window.