Harlequin Heartwarming June 2021 Box Set

by Patricia Johns

  “You okay?” he murmured.

  As she looked up at Noah, his face was only a whisper away from hers—so close that she could see an eyelash that lay on his cheek. She swallowed.

  “Yeah. Thanks...”

  The baby gave a little squirm, and she put her hand over her belly protectively. Noah held up the camera—he’d caught it, too—and she smiled, feeling heat on her face.

  “Anytime.” His voice was still that bass rumble, and when she glanced up again, he was still looking at her.

  “How come you’re looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “I’m remembering you that evening in the bar,” he said. “You weren’t like any other woman I’d seen.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “You were funny, and smart, and quick-witted,” he said. “And you were...gorgeous.”

  Was that what he’d seen in the bar that night?

  “I figured it was just a tough night,” she said.

  “Nah,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I thought it might have been the alcohol or the heartbreak, or some fatal combination of the two, but seeing you again, I realized I was right. You’re as beautiful as I remembered.”

  “And you’re as smooth as I remember,” she said with a laugh. He’d cast a few well-timed compliments her way that night, too.

  “I’m actually not smooth at all,” Noah said. “Not usually. I’m honest, and most times that works against me. Besides, I’m not hitting on you.”

  “Good, I’m pregnant,” she said. “I have bigger things to worry about than how to let a guy down gently.”

  He chuckled. “Ouch. But no, you’re safe there. It’s just nice to know I wasn’t wrong.”

  “This is about you being right?” she asked with a laugh.

  “What can I say?” he said. “It feels good.”

  She pulled out her phone to check the time. “Maybe we should head back.”

  “Sure. The really amazing views are up there—” He pointed beyond the trees to a sheer cliff that rose up farther on.”

  “What’s up there?” she asked taking a step closer and raising her camera again.

  “A waterfall,” he said. “And a view worth every grueling minute of the five-hour hike to get there.”

  Five hours—she wasn’t getting near that view at seven months pregnant. She nodded. There seemed to be an awful lot that was out of reach these days. It was probably best to make the most of what was right here in front of her.

  * * *

  NOAH HAD WONDERED what it would feel like to hold her in his arms again, and his fingers still tingled where he’d touched her. Even pregnant, she fit perfectly into his arms, and he let out a slow breath remembering her curves and the swell of her belly against his hands.

  She smelled good—something faint and feminine—not perfume, exactly, but some scented product she was using. Even the bug spray was associated with pleasant memories for him as a kid growing up in the Colorado Rockies. As soon as the weather was warm enough for hiking, it was also warm enough for bugs.

  The walk together down the trail was easier, and he noticed that Taryn was still moving slowly, cautiously. She couldn’t see her feet, could she?

  “There’s a root,” he said.

  “Thanks...”

  He pulled out his phone and flipped through his photo roll, stopping at a few pictures from last year’s hike up to the cliff.

  “This is the view,” he said, and he passed his phone over to her. They stopped again on the trail, and she flipped through the photos.

  “Wow...” She got to the end of them and flipped once more, stopping at a picture of his nephews and niece. It was a picture from last year. All of the kids were a little bit smaller, and they were sticky from melted ice-cream sandwiches. “Whose kids?”

  “My sister’s,” he said, accepting the phone back. “She’s got four.”

  “Uncle Noah, huh?” Taryn said, casting him a smile.

  “Yeah... I’m good for a bimonthly visit and a birthday card with cash in it. Can’t say the kids appreciate it yet, but they will eventually.”

  Taryn rolled her eyes, and he found himself putting his arm out as they came to a dip in the path. Her fingers grazed his arm, then she pulled her hand away.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Just making sure,” he replied. “We’ve got an image to maintain here of a safe and fun resort. It’ll be hard to explain if you take a tumble.”

  She smiled, but he did notice that she moved in closer to him, and a couple of times she caught his arm as they made their descent.

  “So, even with your nephews and niece, you weren’t willing to change your mind about having kids for your fiancée?” Taryn asked.

  “No, I wasn’t...” He sighed. “Look, I know how awful this is going to sound considering that I got you pregnant, but I think there’s a difference between the ability to make a baby and the ability to raise one. I’m not good with kids. I’ve tried. Like I said, even dating Shelby about ten years ago, but it only proved what I already knew—I’m not good dad material. And I don’t have this deep yearning to have a houseful of kids. I like my quiet. I like order. I like a quiet evening in front of my fireplace or out on my balcony with a good book. And there are a few men out there who should realize the same thing and stop creating kids that they aren’t going to be able to raise either financially or emotionally.”

  Taryn was silent.

  “Maybe I should haven’t said all that,” he said.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. “And I’m different—I’m not asking you to be a dad. I think it’s good that you say what you mean.”

  She might not be asking, but it didn’t change facts. He was going to be a father, whether he wanted to be one or not. She hadn’t asked for his help on this hike, either, and she’d needed it. Just because she didn’t ask him to help her with their son didn’t mean she wouldn’t struggle without him.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked as the bright sunlight from the trail’s entrance came into sight.

  “What do you mean?” She caught his arm again as she stepped past another root.

  “I mean—obviously, you’ve made it pretty clear that you want to raise this child alone, and I respect that.” He swallowed. “The thing is, I can’t just let go of any responsibility toward this little boy, either. I was part of bringing him into this world, and I should provide...something.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Financial support?” he asked. “That only seems fair.”

  Her cheeks were already pink from the exertion, but the color deepened.

  “Maybe contribute to a college fund?” she said.

  “I could do that. Anything else?”

  “I’m not thinking terribly long-term right now,” she said. “I’m working to afford some maternity leave. That’s about it.”

  Maybe he could assuage a bit of his guilt if he got this job in Seattle—because if he left Colorado, he’d be across the country from his son, and he’d likely not see him as often as he should. But if that better-paying job could give his son a better life because of the financial contribution he’d be able to make...

  “Look—” He stopped short, just where the trail widened onto the gravel path that led back to the lodge, and he caught her hand to stop her. “What if I helped you with the maternity leave?”

  “How?” she asked with a frown. “I’m not asking—”

  “I know you’re not asking,” he said, interrupting her. “If I get this job in Seattle, it comes with a pretty good signing bonus. I could hand it over to you, and it might give you a few months of not worrying about an income after he’s born.”

  “You’d do that?” she asked with a frown. “What about you?”

  “It would have been nice to have, but I don’t need it
. I’d rather give it to you now and know you’ll have less pressure for a few months while you settle in as a mom.”

  Taryn stared at him in surprise for a moment, then let out a breath. “I don’t know what to say. It’s generous, but...” She licked her lips. “I wasn’t looking for you, Noah. I wasn’t looking for help.”

  “I’m this baby’s father,” he said, dropping his voice. “When he asks about me one of these years, it would be nice if you had something good to say about me. Besides, giving you some time and lowering your stress after the baby is born is good for the baby, too.”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” she said.

  And that was all he could really ask.

  When they got back into the lodge, Taryn headed up to her suite to change, and Noah went into his office to do the same. Once he was back in his dress pants and a tie, he felt a little more confident and in control.

  He wasn’t sure if Taryn would accept money from him, and maybe offering it the way he had was crass. But if he wasn’t offering himself as a romantic option, or as a dad figure for this kid, then what else was there to give? Besides, it would help—he was willing to bet on that. And what better gift to give his newborn son than uninterrupted time in his mother’s arms?

  Noah opened up the budget file on his computer and stared at it for a couple of minutes, but his mind wasn’t cooperating. He picked up his glasses from his desktop and put them on, then he clicked shut the spreadsheet and opened an internet browser instead. Ever since seeing Tom’s profile on his sister’s phone, he’d thought about setting up a Facebook profile. It didn’t take him long, and he had a couple of photos on his computer from various work events to use as his profile picture. He gave very little information otherwise.

  Then he typed in Tom’s name, and his profile popped up immediately.

  Was this a good idea or an impetuous mistake, like a drunk dial late at night? Maybe he’d put too much emphasis on Tom when he was growing up—for Tom it was a four-year failed marriage to a woman who already had kids. What was Noah even expecting here? That Tom would be overwhelmed with emotion? That wasn’t likely.

  Noah’s phone rang, and he saw Angelina’s cell number.

  “Hi, boss,” he said.

  “Hi, Noah, how were the trails?” she asked.

  “Great. It’s beautiful out there. Taryn took a few pictures, and she seemed to really like what she saw. I can give her a few of my own personal photos from the top of the cliff, and that should get her started.”

  “Perfect,” Angelina said. “I have some of my own, too. So you’re back now?”

  “I’m back,” he said. “I’m just opening up the budget now.”

  “Do you have time to step into a meeting about our food orders? Apparently, there’s a complication with the meat delivery, and—” She paused, there were some muffled voices, then she came back on the line. “In about ten minutes in my office, if you’re free.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, Noah,” she said, and hung up.

  Noah’s gaze moved back to Tom’s smiling face on the screen. There was a button to message him, and he didn’t have a lot of time. He could delay this and put a whole lot of thought into a message later on, but that wasn’t a good idea. He’d just overdo it. It was better to send off a quick message and forget it. He clicked on the text button, and before he could talk himself out of it, he started to type:

  Hi Tom. It’s been a few decades. My sister said she’d connected with you again, and I just wanted to say hi. I’m general manager at the Mountain Springs Resort now. You took us up on the trails around here a few times when we were kids, I remember. Anyway, my sister filled me in about your dog rescue—that sounds great. It would be nice to catch up.

  Noah

  He paused with his mouse over the send button, and then he exhaled and pressed it.

  Whatever. His emotional hopes all set on one guy who’d only been part of the family for four years was ridiculous, and he knew it. Maybe it would help to chat with him a bit, and bring Tom right back down to size in Noah’s own head.

  Noah locked his computer screen, and then reached for his suit jacket and pulled it on.

  He had work to do—thankfully. The last thing he needed was to overthink personal issues.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “YOU’RE LOOKING FOR Lisa Dear?” Janelle was a middle-aged woman who sat at the front desk, glasses perched on the end of her nose and a computer screen in front of her. She had a streak of white through one side of her hair blending into an ash-blond.

  “Yes, the writer. Noah mentioned that she was a published author—”

  “Yes, she’s brilliant,” Janelle said. “We’re very proud of her. Have you read her stories? My daughter studied one of her stories in her college English class.”

  “Wow. That really is impressive,” Taryn said. “I haven’t read her work yet. I’d like to. But I was hoping to chat with her a bit. I don’t want to interrupt her day, and this wouldn’t take too long.”

  Janelle typed something into her computer, clicked a couple of times, then nodded. “She’s working today. Her shift is just about done. She’s probably down at the laundry room.”

  “And where would I find that?” Taryn asked.

  “Take these back stairs—the basement is pretty much laundry and storage. You’ll hear the machines,” Janelle said with a smile. “Ms. Cunningham told me that you could go anywhere you liked.”

  “Thank you.” Taryn smiled back, and headed toward the back stairs.

  She’d been focused on the experience of the guests, but having an employee who was also a celebrated writer was impressive in itself, and who knew? There might be some aspect that could be used for the campaign.

  The lodge basement was clean and well lit. While upstairs it was all polished wood and glittering crystal, downstairs the floors were white tile, and the hum of washing machines and the muted laughter of people chatting echoed. There were elevator doors in the center, and the door to the laundry room stood open. When Taryn poked her head inside, she saw three women and a young man, all in housekeeping uniforms, chatting next to a table that held piles of unfolded, clean sheets.

  “Hi, can we help you?” an older woman asked, looking up.

  “I was hoping to speak to Lisa Dear,” Taryn said.

  One of the women gave a farewell smile to the others and came in Taryn’s direction. She looked to be in her early thirties, and she had long dark hair that was twisted up into a bun at the back of her head.

  “Hi,” Lisa said. “What can I do for you?”

  “My name’s Taryn. I’m working with Angelina Cunningham on an ad campaign for the resort,” Taryn said. “And I’ve heard about you from a couple of different people now—you’re a writer, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.” Lisa led the way out of the laundry, and they headed for the stairs. “Are you looking for a writer to work on ad copy? Because I’m not really that kind of writer.”

  “No, I need a face,” Taryn said. “I need real people. I’m creating shareable content that will feature the lodge and encourage people to click over and learn more about it, but it can’t feel like an ad. So that’s the sort of thing I’m trying to dig up.”

  “And you wanted to feature...me?” Lisa said.

  “I’d like to talk to you about it,” Taryn said. They made their way upstairs, and Lisa gestured toward another back hallway.

  “We can go to the break room and talk there, if you want.”

  “Perfect.”

  The employee break room was on the far end of the lower level, across the hall from the gym. It was furnished a little less extravagantly than the rest of the lodge, but it was a beautiful room with the same broad windows the rest of the lodge sported. There were several couches, an open kitchen with a high-end coffee maker on
one counter and blinds that let in a generous amount of sunlight. One wall had some lockers, and Lisa headed in that direction and opened one, pulling out her purse.

  “So what would you like to know?” Lisa asked.

  “I was hoping you could tell me what Mountain Springs Resort means to you personally,” Taryn said.

  Lisa was silent for a moment. “This job started off as just a job. It was a regular paycheck. I’m a single mom—I need the benefits. But over time it became more than that. The morale is high, people help each other—they encourage each other. When I get a story rejected, or I hit writer’s block, it’s often a work friend who hears about it first.”

  “Does this resort inspire any stories?”

  “A few.” A smile touched Lisa’s lips. “I’m careful, though. When you use people you’re close to, or say, a job you really want to keep, you don’t want to offend anyone. I made a few mistakes with that in my early days. But please don’t mention that...”

  “Of course not,” Taryn murmured. “This is meant to promote the resort, not dig into uncomfortable details.”

  “That’s a relief.” Lisa smiled faintly. She turned to look out the window. “The lake, though... I grew up in Mountain Springs, and for years I took this scenery for granted. But I don’t anymore. There’s just something about this lake, and the mountains—you feel small, you know?”

  “Does Mountain Springs feature in any of your stories?” Taryn asked.

  “Every single one.” Lisa glanced back. “When you grow up in a place like this, it seeps into your bones. These mountains, this lake... It’s home. The place that formed you comes out your pores. It’s reflected in your language. Short stories are meant to dig deep, and the deeper you dig, the closer to home you get. It’s like following a vein of silver in a mine...”

  Taryn’s breath caught, and she met Lisa’s gaze.

  “Do you know what I mean?” Lisa asked.

  “I think I do,” Taryn said. “My grandmother lives here. I used to visit as a girl.”