by Seton, Cora
“If you don’t go home you won’t have the military, you won’t have a ranch, you won’t have a real wife.” Tanner ticked each item off on a finger. “What the hell will you have?”
Colt had no idea.
And that scared the hell out of him.
“If you try to refinish that dresser inside you’re going to make yourself sick,” Heather Ward said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I don’t want to wait until spring. I wanted to get it done before New Year’s.” Camila Torres bent over the display of wood stains. They stood in the third aisle of Renfree’s Home Décor, which Heather had purchased only a few months ago with the help of a hefty loan from her mother to cover the down payment. She still couldn’t believe the place was hers. Hers and the bank’s and her mother’s, that is, with the bank and her mother owning the lion’s share. She appreciated her friend’s desire to make a purchase, but it was late December—not the ideal time to stain a dresser.
Heather had learned over the last few months though that once Camila had an idea in her head she ran with it. A vivacious woman with thick, dark curls and sparkling brown eyes, Camila was more fun than just about anyone else Heather knew. She had a seemingly unlimited supply of energy and a can-do attitude Heather could relate to. She’d left Texas due to a family fight and now co-owned one of the most popular restaurants in town.
“Isn’t there a workshop you could use—?”
“There you are!”
Heather turned to see Regan Hall walking toward her down the aisle, her long dark hair caught up in an artfully messy bun and her pregnant belly protruding in front of her. Regan was married to Colt’s older brother, Mason, and Heather had gotten to know her over the last few months when she took her son, Richard, to see his uncles. Regan held out a cell phone and waved it at her. “I found it!”
“Found what?”
“Colt’s ad.” She reached them and shoved the phone into Heather’s hands. “It took forever, but I did it.”
Camila looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Heather said, shooting Regan a significant look.
“Colt finally put up his wife-wanted ad,” Regan said. “Now Heather has to answer it and win him back!”
“Keep it down!” Heather stood on tip-toes to make sure her employee, Susan Beecham, still manned the till at the front of the store and no one else was close enough to hear their conversation. “For heaven’s sake, Regan—are you going to tell everyone?”
“No.” Regan looked contrite. “I’m sorry, I thought Camila knew.”
“I know Colt has to marry within the next three months. I didn’t know Heather wanted the job.”
“Of course she does. Colt is Richard’s father.”
“But I haven’t seen him in years,” Heather said. “Who knows what he’s like now.”
“He’s sweet and kind…” Regan caught Heather’s expression and laughed. “Okay, he’s a handful, but he’s a good guy at heart. And he’s cute, too. Not as cute as Mason, mind you, but not too shabby.” She poked through the contents of Camila’s basket. “What are you working on?”
“A dresser,” Camila said.
Heather looked down at Regan’s phone, but the screen had gone dark. Regan took it back, fiddled with it and handed it to her again. Now a photo of Colt filled the screen and Heather bit back a sigh. He looked so good. All those years in the Air Force had turned him into a hell of a man. He’d already had the height when she’d known him, but now he had the broad shoulders and powerful musculature of a seasoned warrior. Looking closer, she frowned. Colt had always been happy-go-lucky when they were young. In this photo his expression was serious and his eyes haunted her. What had he seen that had changed him so much?
“Colt was the one to spill the beans about Heloise’s requirements to me when Mason had hoped to keep them a secret.” Regan’s lips turned up in a wry smile. “I was pretty pissed off then, but now it’s kind of funny.”
“Better you should know about Heloise before your wedding than afterward,” Camila said. “Can you imagine how mad you would have been if you came home from your honeymoon and then found out she’d forced Mason to marry you and get you pregnant?”
“That would have been a mess. Not that anyone had to force him to do anything once we fell for each other.” Regan lifted up the can of stain Camila had chosen. “Ooh, this is nice. Anyway, all’s well that ends well, right Heather?”
“Nothing’s ended well for me yet.” She kept looking at Colt’s photograph, but asked absently, “Do you have a drop cloth, Camila?”
“No.”
Heather pointed down the aisle. “Down there. Get a big one.”
Regan moved to her side. “Scroll down and read the ad.”
“Get paid to be my wife,” Heather read. “Ugh, that’s awful!”
“Keep going.”
“Wife needed for four to six months. Room, board and expenses plus generous salary. Must act the part under intense scrutiny and be willing to sign a pre-nup. Oh my God, it gets worse and worse! Who on earth is going to marry him?”
“It sounds to me like he’s just being practical,” Camila said, coming back with a drop cloth. “Didn’t you say he plans to stick with the Air Force until he retires?”
Camila was right. Heather knew from his brothers that Colt planned to make the Air Force his life. It hadn’t always been that way. Back when she’d dated him—briefly—he’d talked only of the ranch. He’d outlined a future for them in which they would build their own house somewhere on the property and he’d take his place by his father’s side running the cattle operation. That was before Aaron died, however, and all their dreams died with him. Colt’s Uncle Zeke had kicked his family off the ranch after the funeral and Colt hadn’t spoken to her once before they left. She had been sure he’d come to say good-bye, but he hadn’t, and to this day she regretted waiting for him to make the first move.
“Maybe he’ll change his mind and quit,” Regan said. “Once he knows about Richard…”
Heather had no idea what Colt would do when he learned he had a son. Would he want to be involved in Richard’s life? Or would he be too angry with her to want anything to do with either of them? Richard was so ready to love his father. Now that three of the Hall brothers were home, he was desperate for Colt to come home, too. If Colt hurt their son’s feelings, she didn’t know what she’d do.
“Maybe,” she said. “But remember, he hasn’t gotten in touch in all these years. After his father died, he never talked to me again.”
“I don’t understand that,” Regan said. “He couldn’t have blamed you for Aaron’s death.”
“No,” Heather said softly. “But I think he felt guilty about being with me when he knew Austin would hate it, and I think that guilt got all wrapped up with his sorrow over Aaron’s aneurysm. Whatever the reason, he never got in touch with me again.” She wondered what her life would have been like if Aaron hadn’t died. Would Colt have stayed on the ranch? Would he have asked her to marry him?
She would have said yes.
She understood his guilt, though. She’d wrestled with her own after Aaron died and the Halls left Chance Creek. If she was honest, she’d begun to be attracted to Colt long before she broke up with Austin. His passion for life and his utter lack of concern for authority echoed her own inclinations. Austin, on the other hand, lived for order and long-term plans. The more Austin talked about enlisting in the Army—and what their future might hold—the more Heather understood that soon he would ask her to be his wife. At seventeen she wasn’t ready for marriage—especially not to Austin. Not when she secretly wanted Colt.
Back then her guilt had nearly overwhelmed her. How could she cast off one brother for another? Austin had always been loyal to her and she didn’t know how to break up with him in a way that wouldn’t hurt his feelings, but when he took her out for a special dinner and announced that he’d filled in the paperwork to start the enlistment
process, Heather knew she’d waited too long.
“I don’t want to go out with you anymore,” she’d blurted.
Austin had turned pale. Neither of them had known what to say next. Fifteen minutes later he dropped her off at her home and she’d cried all night. Heather had never found out whether Austin had brought a ring to that dinner, but her gut told her he did. It still made her wince to think about it. Afterwards, she resolved to have nothing to do with the Hall men.
Her resolve only lasted three weeks. Without Austin’s daily presence in her life, Colt consumed her thoughts and dreams. She’d hadn’t told any of her friends what she was feeling because she’d known it was wrong. So wrong.
Still, when Colt came calling and asked her out, she said yes.
“And you didn’t get in touch with Colt when you figured out you were pregnant?” Camila asked.
“I was going to. Then I thought about what that would do to him and his brothers. They’d just lost their father. How could I turn Austin against Colt? What would Mason and Zane do, choose sides? I couldn’t bear the thought of them fighting about what Colt and I had done. I felt guilty enough already.”
“I understand. I’m sure Colt will too,” Regan said.
“Really? Would you understand if you were him? If you found you’d missed the first twelve years of your child’s life?” Thirteen, now. Richard had recently had a birthday. Heather’s heart squeezed. She knew Colt too well to even hope for understanding. He was proud and stubborn and he took things to heart, no matter the tough exterior he turned to the world.
Regan considered this. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “but you promised to answer his ad. It’s the only reason Mason and the others haven’t told him about Richard.”
Colt’s brothers had been shocked and angry when they found out she’d hidden Richard from all of them so long. She’d had to beg them to let her tell Colt about his son in her own way. “Maybe this is a huge mistake.”
“It’s not a mistake,” Regan said. Heather scanned the store again, glad it was nearly empty, although that reflected problems of a different kind. If sales didn’t pick up quickly she was going to be in trouble.
“He was here in June. It would have been easy for him to look me up.”
She was careful to hide how much it hurt that he hadn’t. It was for the best, after all. She’d known the minute Mason had returned to Chance Creek last April she was in trouble and she’d been grateful for the reprieve, although it only lasted a few months. When Mason and Regan set their wedding for June, Heather knew the rest of the family would come and she wasn’t sure what to do. She remembered the way she’d been torn between hope and fear the entire time Colt was in town for the wedding. Hope that he would come and find her. Fear that when he realized she’d hidden Richard he’d hate her and leave again.
She needn’t have worried; he hadn’t come after her at all and before she knew it he was gone again. Once again she’d waited too long for him to make the first move and bitterly regretted it later. It was Richard who finally spilled the beans to Austin when Austin left the Army and came back to Chance Creek to stay in the summer. She’d never told her son who his father was, but he’d looked through her scrapbooks from when she was younger, seen all the photos of her and Austin together, and come to his own conclusions. He’d confronted Austin and Austin had confronted Heather. She hadn’t known what to do. Paralyzed by what would happen if the truth was known, she’d said nothing at first. Austin had thought Richard was right—that Richard was his—and she’d managed to make things even worse than before.
When the truth had finally come out both Richard and Austin were devastated, but time had begun to heal those wounds, thank goodness. All of the Halls had agreed to let her tell Colt in her own way as soon as she was able to contact him. Unfortunately he’d left on a mission last summer that didn’t allow for any communication. She knew Colt’s brothers were worried; it wasn’t normal for him to be off the grid so long. She’d been worried, too, and she’d prayed for his safety every night before she went to sleep. Now that he’d put up an ad, at least she knew he was still alive.
She wanted another chance with Colt, and Richard was dying to meet his father. Meanwhile, Austin had stepped up in his role as uncle, as had Mason and Zane.
“He didn’t know about Richard in June,” Regan pointed out.
“He still doesn’t, and I don’t want him to be with me because he feels like he has to be. I probably don’t want to be with him at all. I’m not the same person. Why should I assume he is?”
Camila picked out several brushes and added them to her basket. “You think you’ve changed that much since he’s been gone?”
“I know I have.” She heard the bitterness in her voice. “Look at me—I’m an old, boring woman who owns a home décor store.”
Camila stopped. “First of all, you’re not old. Second of all, if you feel that way it’s your own fault. Look at you! I have no idea why you think that owning this store means you have to dress like Renfree used to. I mean, when you worked at the bar you dressed hot!”
“I dressed like a bartender is supposed to dress. Now I own a store. I have to look the part.”
“You have to look like a cat lady?”
“She doesn’t look like a cat lady!” Regan, ever the peace-maker, intervened.
“Yes she does. You’re veering awfully close to polyester pantsuits, woman. Please don’t tell me you threw out your real people clothes.”
“These are real people clothes!” She looked down at the no-nonsense pants and blue sweater she wore. Camila was right: she’d adopted Renfree’s style when she took over the store. And it wasn’t attractive.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Camila pointed at Heather’s pants. “If you have any self-respect you’ll burn those tonight and tomorrow you’ll wear something from the twenty-first century.”
“If you need to update your wardrobe, go to Willow’s. Storm’s got a great selection of new clothes in. We could go together,” Regan said. Storm was Zane’s wife and she lived at Crescent Hall, too. The same aunt who’d come up with all the crazy conditions for Colt and his brothers to inherit the ranch had also given Storm an old store she’d bought for a song, along with the money to fix it up. It was her attempt to anchor Storm to Montana when it seemed likely Storm would want to return to California. The women of Chance Creek were thrilled to have a new clothing store, especially since Storm had a keen eye for up-to-date fashions. Heather knew Regan liked to drum up business for her whenever she could.
“I’ll definitely do that soon. After New Year’s when I get home from Colorado, maybe.”
“Owning Renfree’s is supposed to be your dream,” Camila said. “Why are you acting like it’s a prison sentence?”
Heather was grateful for the change of topic. Even if her store was floundering, it was safer to talk about than Colt. “I think I’m afraid of it,” she admitted, plucking a piece of lint from her sweater in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. “What if I crash and burn?”
“Why would you? You know how to run this place,” Regan said.
Heather bit her lip. She lowered her voice. “I haven’t wanted to tell anyone. Sales are down from last year. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
Camila narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure Renfree didn’t inflate his books when he showed them to you? Maybe he sold the store because it was going under.”
Heather couldn’t pretend the idea hadn’t occurred to her. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I worked here, remember? The store was much busier last year. I think it’s me. I think the contractors are traveling to Silver Falls instead of buying from me because I’m a woman.”
“Seriously? In this day and age?” Camila looked skeptical. “I guess that explains why you’re trying to look like a man.”
“Camila! I’m not joking. Look around you. Do you see any men in the store?”
Camila scanned the aisles that were all too e
mpty. “I don’t see much of anyone in the store. Are you advertising?”
“Yes, I am. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong and something’s got to give or I’m in trouble. Maybe I’m not a businesswoman at all.” She caught Regan’s worried look and rushed to add, “Oh, I’m probably over-dramatizing things. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want her friends to worry.
“If your sales are down, you aren’t over-dramatizing.” Regan was all business. “You know I do consulting on the side. Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I didn’t want anyone to know I was having trouble.”
“Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away. Let’s meet up for coffee when you get home from your trip and brainstorm some ideas.”
“Fila and I could help, too,” Camila said. Fila was Camila’s business partner. Their fusion Afghan and Mexican restaurant in town was so successful they’d had to hire extra help.
“That would be great.” Heather felt a rush of gratitude toward both of them. She’d been so excited when she first bought the store, but now the adrenaline had worn off and the hard work of running the business for years to come pressed down on her. If anyone could help her brainstorm, they could.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook on answering Colt’s ad,” Regan said. “Do it. Tonight.”
Chapter Two
‡
Colt stood up from his cramped seat and pulled his carry-on bag from the rack overhead. Twenty-four hours ago he’d completed the process that separated him from the Air Force and he’d hopped on a plane early this morning. It took several flights to reach the tiny Chance Creek Regional Airport, but he’d made his connections easily. It felt strange to know that the US military no longer directed his life. He’d jumped out of plenty of aircraft in his time, but always with a parachute—now he was free falling into civilian life and the sensation unnerved him.
