A Second Chance at Crimson Ranch

by Michelle Major

  “Good morning,” he said as she scooted aside to let him in. He took a strange satisfaction in the fact that she seemed as affected by him as he was by her. It wasn’t the six-year age difference that made his awareness of Olivia so foreign. She was in a totally different league than him. Normally he’d respect that invisible barrier. But something about this woman made him want to forget all of the very rational reasons she was not for him. Because as much as his brain understood that, his body wasn’t cooperating.

  “Do you want coffee?” she asked as she led him through a formal living room filled with antique furniture and real art—the kind that looked like it cost a lot of money. A few spaces on the wall were noticeably blank, but he didn’t comment as he followed her into the kitchen.

  “I’d love a cup,” he answered, taking in the modern appliances and warm butcher-block counters. “Nice space,” he told her.

  Her hand faltered as she reached up to take a mug from the cabinet. “Thank you. The kitchen is my favorite room in the house. It’s the only place that doesn’t feel stuffy to me.” She flashed a tentative smile. “The garage apartment is nice, too. It was going to be my studio, but...”

  “You’re an artist?” He pulled out one of the stools and sat at the island’s counter.

  “A painter. Sort of. Not really.” She shrugged. “I like to paint and studied art in college, but I haven’t had much time for it lately.”

  “I took a ceramics class in high school. Before I got suspended for the second time.”

  The mug she held clattered to the floor but didn’t break. He watched as she scooped it up, set it in the sink and took out another one. He shouldn’t have brought up his misspent youth, but he’d needed to remind them both how different their lives were.

  “Were you any good?”

  “I didn’t have a chance to find out,” he told her. “They put a lot of the troubled kids with one of the art teachers. Kept us busy and out of the way of the students who gave a damn.”

  She turned, her gaze curious. “Why didn’t you care?”

  “I was angry, stupid and young. A bad combination. I managed to graduate, mainly because the school wanted to be rid of me.”

  She set the cup of coffee in front of him. “Milk or sugar?”

  He shook his head.

  “But things got better after you left Crimson?”

  “After a while,” he answered as he took a drink. “I grew up. Realized I didn’t have to turn out the way most people expected me to. I had a choice not to fail, to prove them wrong. I made that choice.”

  She took the seat across the counter from him. “Maybe the problems you had when you were younger shaped you into a person determined to be better.”

  He actually laughed out loud. “I’ve never heard anyone suggest that.”

  “I have a lot of experience putting a good spin on bad situations,” she answered with a small grin.

  How was it that talk about his wild past seemed to melt away her nerves? He’d brought it up to keep her at arms’ length, not as an ice breaker.

  Her smile slowly faded. “I wasn’t sure you’d come today. I figured maybe once you’d left town you wouldn’t be back.”

  The thought had crossed his mind more than once in the past few days. He’d even interrupted Josh on his honeymoon to run Olivia’s plan by Sara. He’d figured his new sister-in-law would have something to say about Logan returning to town and working so closely with her friend.

  To his surprise Sara had loved the idea. She’d told Logan that Olivia needed someone on her side, and he’d be the perfect person to take over the renovations. Even Josh had seemed happy that Logan would be spending the next month and a half in Crimson.

  Logan wasn’t used to people being happy to have him around. He’d felt as though he had an itch he couldn’t quite reach ever since he’d agreed to this plan. He didn’t know how to make it go away, so he was doing his best to ignore it.

  “I gave you my word,” he answered.

  She nodded as if that made perfect sense. He wanted to reach across the table and shake her. Didn’t she see that he was not worth the trouble he was bound to cause? Maybe that was what he found so irresistible about Olivia Wilder. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had believed the best about him, whether or not he deserved it.

  “I have the plans and the proposed budget.” She pushed a stack of papers toward him. “Not that I want to cut corners, but if there’s any way to reduce expenses, that would be a big help.”

  “You know I’m cheap labor.” He was only teasing but loved the blush that colored her cheeks once again.

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m going to put some of my own money into the project. At least until I can line up more outside funding. The new mayor has the best of intentions, but his plate is overly full at the moment. There’s a chance the community center could get waylaid if there’s something more critical that needs money from the town. I don’t want the work delayed any more than it has been.”

  “Where did you get the money?”

  “What?” She looked at him as though she didn’t understand the question.

  He studied her. “You said at the wedding that Craig had drained your bank account. I know the community center is important, but you need to take care of yourself first. You don’t need to do anything foolish just to get money. Things will work themselves out, Olivia.”

  She busied herself with emptying her mug into the sink. “Easy for you to say. And it’s none of your business where I got the money.”

  “That’s true,” he answered softly. “But remember I’m on your side in all this.”

  “I sold my wedding ring to a jeweler in Aspen.” She whirled around to face him. “We’ll be divorced within the month. I don’t have any use for it.”

  He held up his hands, palms facing her. “I’m not judging you.”

  “Besides which,” she continued, absently rubbing two fingers across the empty space on her left hand, “it was my grandmother’s diamond. My parents gave it to Craig before he proposed. He didn’t even have to spend his own money on a ring. That’s how ready they were to pawn me off on him.” She stared at him, eyes blazing, her chest heaving. “I practically had a dowry attached to me, as if I was some Regency spinster. I was twenty-eight at our wedding, not exactly an old maid.”

  “I hope you got a lot for it.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Enough to make sure the renovations will continue.”

  “If you’re sure that’s how you want to use it. You don’t owe anyone in Crimson because of what your husband did.”

  She shook her head. “I owe this town a lot. It’s the first place that’s felt like home to me.”

  “How long were you and Craig married?” he asked, coming to stand next to her.

  “Five years.” She took the mug from his hands, his skin tingling where she touched him. “I’m thirty-two. Way older than you.”

  “Six years,” he clarified. “Not way older.”

  She took a step back but he followed. “I could have been your...babysitter.”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “My brothers and I would have had you tied up in minutes.”

  “I’m tougher than I look,” she whispered, turning away.

  “I bet you are.” He placed a hand on her arm and she looked at him over her shoulder. “You’re not an old maid, Olivia. Not by a long shot.”

  Her gray eyes darkened as she looked at him. Hope and doubt crashed behind them and he had to resist the urge to smooth the crease between her brows.

  Instead he said, “I went by the site this morning to see where to start.”

  “Is it bad? Are we behind? Do you need to hire a crew?”

  He glanced up at her. “I have someone working part-time for me, and I’ll bring subcon
tractors in as needed. A lot of it can be done on my own. I brought my tools up from Telluride.”

  “You can keep them in the garage. I had an extra key made although most people in Crimson don’t bother locking their doors at night. I’ll show you the apartment.”

  He followed her out the back door and across the driveway. He noticed a small Subaru station wagon parked next to the house. “The SUV, too?”

  Her pace didn’t slow. “It was bigger than I needed. I traded it in.”

  Olivia Wilder was more resourceful than he’d expected. “You really are committed to this community center,” he murmured more to himself than her.

  She turned to face him as she stood on the first step leading up to the garage apartment. “Do you believe we can do this?”

  She was above him on the step and he tipped up his face to meet her gaze. Her skin was creamy and smooth in the sunlight. A pale dusting of freckles spilled across her nose. “I believe you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.”

  “We’re a team.” Her eyes searched his as she spoke.

  He’d been part of a team once. His twin sister, Beth, had been his best friend, confidant and protector, and he’d been the same for her. Since her death ten years ago, Logan hadn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone. Now this slip of a woman wanted more from him than he was capable of giving.

  He couldn’t tell her that. He wanted Olivia to get what she wanted, to regain her self-confidence or maybe discover it for the first time. He’d been too young, selfish and stupid to help his sister when she’d needed it. But he could help Olivia. And perhaps in the process he’d be able to rid himself of a bit of the blackness that had consumed his soul since Beth’s accident.

  “We’ll finish the work on your community center,” he told her. “It will be great.”

  Her smile was so open and trusting, it made his heart beat faster. Which was strange because before today he hadn’t been sure he still had a heart.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Olivia turned around in one of the side rooms of the community-center building. “This is going to be where we do the kids’ programs because it’s on the first floor and close to the bathrooms. Upstairs we’ll have yoga classes and adult workshops. The big room in the back will be for speakers and community events.”

  “You’ve got it all worked out.”

  She flattened the building plans to the work table in front of her. “I’ve been dreaming about this for almost a year. Craig was elected mayor just months after we came to town. I started volunteering at the visitors’ center soon after. It was clear that the town needed a place like this.”

  Logan studied the plans. “This town needed someone like you.”

  She glanced up at him. “Thank you for saying that. I’m not sure it’s true, but I appreciate hearing it.”

  As she watched Logan study the plans, Olivia thought she’d never felt more alive than this day. As excited as she was about the renovations, she hadn’t been comfortable at the building site while Jeremy and Craig had been running the show. The community center was her baby. The sense of responsibility and ownership it triggered gave her heart a lift.

  “I have a couple design ideas,” Logan said slowly, not taking his eyes off the plans. “Logistical things as far as water lines and how to position rooms for the most practical use and flow when people come in to the building.”

  She peered over his shoulder. “Great. You’re the one with the construction experience. I want to hear everything you have to say.”

  “Just like that?” He turned to face her as one corner of his mouth lifted. He was so close she could feel his breath against her cheek. “Aren’t you going to tell me how this is your project and you’re the boss?”

  She swallowed hard and leaned back. “This is our project,” she corrected. “I want it to be the best it can. We’re a team. I’m not the boss. I’ve never been in charge of anything.”

  “Have you ever wanted to be?”

  She glanced up and was struck by the intensity of his gaze. Somehow she didn’t think he was talking about the renovations any longer. “We’re a team,” she repeated after a moment.

  He gave a short nod and straightened. Olivia watched him walk to the window. His shoulders rose and fell as if he was having trouble catching his breath. She knew the feeling and placed a steadying hand on her own chest. Suddenly she couldn’t put together a coherent thought about plans, construction or anything that didn’t involve Logan’s hard body and Olivia as the boss.

  Fantastic. She’d become a certified cougar in a matter of hours.

  A door slammed at the front of the building and a minute later a boy slinked into the room. “I’m here,” he said, his narrowed eyes focused on Logan. “Some guys are having an airsoft gun war at the park, but instead of having fun, I’m stuck as your slave for the afternoon.”

  Olivia saw a quick smile flash across Logan’s face. “You should have thought of that before you bought the can of spray paint.”

  “Spray paint?” she asked softly, her mind a little fuzzy.

  The boy whipped around, obviously unaware of her presence in the room until she’d spoken. She recognized him as Jordan Dempsey. They’d even met a couple of times at town events.

  She thought of her conversation with Jeremy Dempsey in the hardware store. She knew the two of them had been just as devastated by Melissa and Craig’s betrayal as she’d been. Maybe more so. While she hadn’t expected Craig to desert her, she’d known he was a serial cheater and she’d no longer been in love with him. She wasn’t sure if she ever had. But Jeremy and Melissa had seemed happy in their marriage, at least on the surface. Although Olivia certainly understood looks could be deceiving. She wasn’t sure what had motivated Melissa to abandon her family, but that kind of rejection could hit a kid hard. Olivia knew that from personal experience, as well. She was a regular expert on rejection.

  From the daggers Jordan was shooting in her direction, she could tell exactly where he placed the blame for his parents’ breakup.

  “What’s she doing here?” His chin jutted out in defiance, but there was the tiniest tremble in his voice. It made her heart ache.

  “Olivia is running this project,” Logan said calmly. “You know that, Jordan. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

  The preteen boy’s bitter gaze never left her face. “I said I’d help you. Take out the garbage and whatever else you need. I never agreed to talk to the trash.”

  Before she could even register the insult, Logan had stalked forward and grabbed Jordan by the collar of his fleece jacket. The material bunched in Logan’s clenched fist.

  “P-put me—”

  “Logan.” Olivia took one small step forward. “You don’t have to—”

  “Apologize,” Logan told the kid, giving him a sharp shake before releasing him.

  Jordan bent forward, coughing melodramatically. “I’m not going to—”

  “He doesn’t have to,” Olivia offered quickly, taken aback at Logan’s immediate instinct to protect her.

  Logan bent down, his voice quiet but firm as he spoke to Jordan. “She is not responsible for what your mother did. You have every right to be angry, but not with Olivia. You think making her the bad guy is going to help you feel better, but it won’t. That’s something you’re going to need to figure out real quick or you’ll be facing bigger trouble than vandalism charges. Trust me.”

  He smoothed a hand over the boy’s back, the touch surprisingly gentle given the way he’d been holding him moments earlier. “Apologize to her. Now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jordan mumbled.

  “Look her in the eye.”

  The unshed tears Olivia saw glistening in Jordan’s eyes broke her heart all over again. “I’m sorry I called you trash.”

  “You will treat Oliv
ia Wilder with respect and not just while you’re here with me.”

  Jordan looked at Logan and nodded.

  “I’m going to have my eye on you while I’m in town.” Logan reached down and picked up a bucket and scrub brush, handing them to Jordan. “I don’t want to hear about any trouble involving you. Got it?”

  The kid took the bucket and brush and nodded again.

  “Good. You can start with the spray paint in the back room. After the wall is repainted, I need a few things from the hardware store. I’ll give you cash with the list.”

  Olivia saw Jordan’s eyes widen. “You trust me with money?”

  “Until you give me a reason not to,” Logan answered. “You’re a good kid, Jordan. Don’t let your anger make you forget that.” He pointed toward the back of the building. “Now get going on that wall. If you want something, there’s soda in the cooler by the wall and chips next to it.”

  “Thanks,” Jordan mumbled in response, but he looked relaxed as he disappeared out the door to the hallway.

  “I’m sorry.” Logan turned to Olivia. “I should have told you about Jordan. I caught him decorating the wall this morning before school. Not the most flattering language.”

  “Begins with a B, rhymes with witch?” she guessed.

  He flashed her a smile. “You don’t want to say the word.”

  She shrugged in response. “I was never much for cursing. But I’ve heard that particular word enough to recognize it. What happened when you found Jordan?”

  “I scared the hell out of him,” Logan said with an answering shrug. “Then told him he was going to work here after school and in exchange I wouldn’t call the cops. If you don’t want him here, I’ll make other arrangements.”

  “I don’t mind. This whole situation is probably hardest on Jordan.” She studied him for a moment then smiled. “Is he your crew?”

  Logan nodded. “Until I need more.”