Diamonds And Denim (Country Brides & Cowboy Boots)

by Danni Lee Nicholls

  Mick didn’t know on what front to do battle. Should he bring up Paul? Did he need to talk to her about requiring payback for a plane ticket he wasn’t sure he wanted? And what about the fact that she’d just barged into his room like she owned the place—owned him?

  “Come sit down,” Simone said, once again patting the bed beside her.

  Mick chose the chair next to the window. “Look,” he said. “You and I aren’t a couple anymore, Simone. That was your choice. You don’t think I saw the pictures you put on Instagram of you and Paul snuggling up while throwing parties in my condo with a bunch of people I’ve never seen? What were you thinking?” His voice rose in anger.

  Simone waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, that! It was Paul’s idea,” she said. “Payback for you taking off and leaving him at Red to manage that fractious crew. He was not too happy. Plus, you should’ve known better than to hand the keys of your condo over to Paul. You know how he is.”

  “And I thought I knew how you are, too. I don’t recall handing him the keys to our relationship. You did that. And it was your idea to leave Red and move out west, but you never planned on coming with me, did you?”

  “Oh, honey, you’ve got this all wrong.”

  “I don’t think so, Simone.”

  Simone let out a long sigh. “Okay,” she said. “So it wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made, but it didn’t take me long to realize Paul is one big jerk. It’s why I came all the way out here to the edge of the earth with tickets.” She held up the plane tickets once again. “I really do want to make it up to you. So, I’ll tell you what: you don’t have to pay me back for the ticket. This ride is on me, and we’ll head over to Missoula today, fly out of this hole, and see what Seattle has to offer.”

  “This isn’t a hole, Simone.” Slipping on his shoes and pushing his arms through the sleeves of his coat, he walked to her and grabbed her hand. In his effort to lead her to the back door, he remembered her stiletto boots and shortened his stride. Such silly shoes in this kind of country.

  “Oh, wait.” She stopped. “This motel has two front doors? That’s just creepy.”

  “C’mon.” Mick opened the door and brought her outside to the shores of Sunrise Lake. The trees had protected the lawn outside Mick’s door, and the accumulation of snow was much less, making it an easy walk to the shoreline where the water lapped quietly, the rhythm of it like breathing in a hushed peace. The storm was just beginning to clear, and crisp, snow-covered evergreens seemed to pull apart the remaining clouds to reveal a brilliant cerulean sky.

  Simone turned, giving Mick a look of indifference as she shivered. “Yeah?”

  “Have you ever seen such beauty?”

  “Yes, actually, I have. On the National Geographic channel, and that’s right where it belongs. Now, let’s get back inside before this snow ruins my boots. We need to get you packed.” She pulled at his hand and began walking toward the motel room.

  Mick jerked away from her. “You can’t just march into this place and dictate my next move. I need to think. I’m going to go for a walk.”

  Simone pursed her lips in impatience as she made her way back to the room. “Well, don’t be long. I want to be sure we hit the road to Missoula while this weather is breaking.” Simone shut the door to the motel room, leaving Mick standing in the cold.

  Mick used to love Simone’s cheekiness, but now it irritated him. Who did she think she was to barge into his life and start bossing him around? Even now, she was more concerned with her boots than his feelings.

  He followed her into the motel room, keeping his voice even as he kept moving toward the door that led to the street. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be. I’ve got to check on the Jag and take some time for myself to take all of this in.” He stopped as he reached for the doorknob. “If you decide to leave while I’m gone, then don’t hesitate.”

  Simone gave him a startled look before her face softened. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll wait for you,” she said. “Our flight doesn’t take off until tomorrow morning, so we’ve got time. I’m just anxious to be on our way. We need to get out of here, so take care of the car and hurry back.”

  Mick grabbed his knit cap off the table and pulled it down around his ears. Shutting the door behind him, he breathed in a long inhalation, his thoughts in a jumble as they spilled over his mixed emotions. A sense of dread prickled down his neck as he squinted in the bright light of the snow toward Bert’s place. Bert would’ve surely seen Simone show up. In fact, the whole town probably knew she was here with her four-inch spiked heels and bright red jacket.

  Thrusting his hands into his pockets, Mick hurried across the street.

  Bert greeted him in front of the bay. “Looks like you’ve got a visitor,” he said with mirth in his eyes.

  “Yeah, she’s a friend from New York.”

  Bert remained silent, but Mick didn’t give any further explanation.

  Bert turned his attention to the Jag. “About got this car done. If you swing by in an hour, she’ll be purring like a kitten,” he said. “But I don’t know how you’re going to get it out of here. I’m betting winter is here to stay, especially in the mountain passes.”

  Panic rose within Mick like the inches of snow. “That’s what I figured.” A new idea bubbled to the surface of his concerns. “Can you hold the car for me until spring?”

  Bert shook his head. “No. I really don’t have the space, and this car probably should be inside for the season if it’s not being driven.”

  Mick agreed as he tried to sort out his priorities. “Well, thanks anyway. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Bert motioned toward the motel. “Bev’s got a big garage at home. I don’t know what she keeps in it, but you might ask her.”

  Mick waved as he hurried back to the hotel, but he didn’t go into his room. Instead, he began walking around the lake. The snow gave the world a sense of stillness. Everything stood in hushed suspension. It pained him to consider leaving such beauty so soon and so suddenly, and the idea of leaving Willow was even less palatable. They had created a budding friendship with the hint of something more.

  He pulled out his phone and began dialing Willow’s number, but his finger stopped in midair. He could leave now, talk to Bev about storing the Jag. It might be best to just pack his bags and climb into Simone’s rented Jeep and figure out his relationship with his New York ex once they got to Seattle. If he dropped a note off for Willow with Bev, he was certain it would get to her. A short explanation. A quick but heartfelt goodbye. He didn’t know her well, but he knew she would accept such an offering, and it would save him a truckload of pain.

  Mick closed his eyes as their last evening together under the stars flooded him with the same crisp clarity as the snow-scrubbed air. He could not leave her with just a note. He wasn’t sure he could leave her at all.

  He pushed the final digits of her phone number, and when she answered, his breath caught in his throat. “Hey, how are you this morning?”

  A sigh came across the phone. “Well, I’m not exactly sure,” she said.

  Concern edged into Mick’s mind. “Everything all right?”

  “Someone tried to steal our cows last night. We caught them, but—”

  “You mean modern-day cattle rustling?” All thoughts of leaving with Simone dropped away.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” Willow said. “They didn’t get away with any of the cows. We caught them in the act, so the police were here last night. Dad and Shorty left for the feedlots this morning, as planned. I’ve checked the rest of the herd. Everything is fine. This weather would slow down any further theft attempts, but—well, Curtis is coming home.”

  Mick sucked in his breath and held it. “I see.”

  “Yeah. He’ll be here tomorrow evening.” Willow’s voice was soft.

  Mick was quiet as he turned over in his mind the new reality of Curtis being in Sunrise Creek, the man who was not engaged to Willow but stil
l held some piece of her heart. In the rush of this morning’s events, Mick had forgotten to consider Curtis, but now, his decision was clear. Curtis’s appearance would change everything, and it should. He was intended for Willow.

  Swallowing hard, Mick knew what he needed to do. He would go to Seattle with Simone and try to work out their relationship once they got there. Maybe he was wrong about her and Paul. He hadn’t allowed her to explain, and they needed to talk.

  Mick hated the idea of departing. Something lay unfinished for him, and he was leaving the very thing he’d been looking for without even fully understanding it. But Willow did not belong to him, and he didn’t belong in this place. He didn’t know the first thing about cows or ranching.

  “Willow, there’s something I need to tell you, and I have a favor to ask, too.”

  “Shoot.”

  Mick had trouble forming the words. “Simone showed up this morning.”

  “Oh!” Willow’s voice echoed surprise.

  “Yeah, I know. It was a total shock. I had no idea she was coming. She just knocked on my door and, well … there she was.”

  “I see. Kind of like my surprise phone call from Curtis.”

  Mick hesitated as the ache in his heart moved up into his throat. “Yes. Like that,” he whispered. “But there’s more. Simone’s got two tickets to Seattle. We fly out of Missoula in the morning.”

  Mick took in the beat of silence from Willow, wondering what it meant. Maybe she was as sorry to know of Simone’s arrival as he was to know that Curtis was coming home. Home. A flare of jealousy sprang up in Mick. Curtis had Willow and a home, but he’d left this place and his woman for a life in Texas without any repercussions. Curtis didn’t have to worry about a thing, because all of it would be waiting for him when he returned, while Mick had to try to carve out a whole new way of life in a city that no longer held his interest with a woman he couldn’t trust.

  Mick bit his tongue to keep his words from flying from his mouth on black wings of his envious grudge. None of this was Willow’s fault, and it wasn’t Curtis’s fault either.

  Willow’s voice was soft, and it pulled Mick back to their last moments under the stars. “Well, you’d better get on the road, then, and try to catch this weather while we’re in between storms. Are you going to try to drive the Jag to Missoula?”

  “No. Simone’s got a rental.” He hesitated. “That’s where I need the favor. I was hoping you could keep the Jag at your place. Do you have a shop where it can reside for the winter? I’d start paying you as soon as I get a job. I promise.”

  “I think we can manage it,” Willow said. “If you can get it here, I’ll take you back to town.”

  “Okay.” Relief mingled with a new cascading grief. “And Willow?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll be glad to see you before I go.” His voice caught.

  “Me too,” Willow said quietly before hanging up.

  Chapter 17

  The ride to the Double W was slow, but Mick didn’t care to hurry. He marveled at the snowy road and the crystal-cold beauty of the day. He noted the spot where the Jag had sputtered and coughed before coming to a complete stop. There was no marker to acknowledge how that moment had shifted his life in his meeting of Willow and staying in Sunrise Creek.

  Looking at the mountains, sporting their new snow coats, Mick admired their piercing white peaks against the snow and the brilliant blue sky. It was cold, but winter in New York was just as frigid. The city just didn’t carry the same organic beauty. He liked the snow in the city when it was fresh, but soon after it fell, it became a dirty, slushy mess and the hush of it was gone. Then it was nothing more than a nuisance to try to navigate. Here, the nuisance was worth it. The hush lasted for longer than a couple of hours, and the stunning countryside constantly caused him to gaze with awe.

  Mick had left Simone at the motel, in spite of her pout. She’d wanted to see where the Jag was going to be stored, but he’d told her he was going alone. His decision hadn’t stopped her from spying through the curtains as he paid Bert with a combination of his wages from working at Bev’s and the final few dollars left on his credit card, leaving him with fifteen hundred dollars in cash to figure out how to find a place in pricey Seattle.

  As he’d stood in Bert’s garage just a few minutes ago, old lessons about frugality that his parents tried to teach him echoed in his head. His parents worked hard. They scrimped and saved for that rainy day in which Mick chose not to believe. It was easier to label those lessons as old-fashioned when faced with his bottomless craving for the right kind of condo, the eye-catching car, the fancy clothes, and jewelry. All of those failed him miserably once outside of the small bubble of their influence. He couldn’t even make it across the country with the accumulations of his own choosing. Earlier, when he was surrounded by the smell of engine oil and gasoline, Mick began to suspect that none of those things mattered. In fact, there was no doubt of their frivolity.

  Mick ran his hand along the Jag’s fender. As soon as he could figure out his next move, he would sell the car and choose something practical.

  “It really is a sporty little thing,” Bert said. “I bet in New York City it’s quite an eye-catcher.”

  “It was.” The upcoming loss of Willow and Sunrise Creek shouldered out any sense of wistfulness. “But I’m not living in New York anymore.”

  Bert shifted on his feet. “Well, part of you is still living in New York.” He bobbed his head toward the motel room. “Some friend you got there,” he said. “She’s not exactly Montana made.”

  “Yeah, well, you got that right,” Mick countered.

  “You leaving with her?”

  Mick took a deep breath to bolster his courage. “Yep. This afternoon.”

  “Did you talk to Bev about storing the Jag?”

  “Nope.”

  Bert waited for an explanation, but none came.

  “Well, it’s good you’re on your way,” Bert said.

  Bert’s comment just solidified Mick’s decision. He didn’t belong here. Not really.

  Bert continued, “Curtis is coming home.”

  Mick leveled his gaze at the mechanic, his eyes mirroring the cold that seeped in with the news. “I know.” He bent down to sign the credit card receipt before handing it to Bert. “Thanks for everything you’ve done. Out of all the places I could’ve landed, I’m glad it was here. I know the Jag was in good hands.”

  Bert beamed. “Happy travels.”

  Now, twenty minutes later, Mick was taking his time on snow-covered roads toward Willow’s ranch. But it wouldn’t be the last time he would see her. Not really. He’d have to pick up the Jag in the spring. Already he was looking forward to that visit.

  Pulling up to the house, Mick hopped out of the car and knocked on the door. Willow came from the barn. “I heard you drive up,” she said, holding a pan of cold oatmeal.

  Mick’s attention was focused on the pan.

  Willow followed his gaze. “It’s for the chickens,” she said. “They love this stuff, and I wasn’t very hungry.” She placed the pan in a wheelbarrow next to the barn.

  Mick slowly nodded. “Me either,” he said as he stared into Willow’s forest-green eyes flecked with lake blue. He wanted to memorize her, every eyelash, freckle, and strand of hair. He cleared his throat as she met his gaze. “So, where would you like the Jag?”

  Willow pointed to the shop. “I’ll open the door.” She hurried ahead of him while Mick climbed back into the car. After the Jag was settled, he handed her the keys, his fingers brushing against her palm, creating a longing to pull her close and crush her to him in a kiss of wishful hope and desire.

  Instead, Mick took a step back, tucking in every tendril of eager yearning. “Could you please just start it every couple of days? You could drive it if you want. As soon as I get settled, I’ll send you as much as I can. Does a hundred dollars a month sound good?”

  Willow accepted the keys. “The money would be nice. Thank you,
yes.” She looked at the car. “I’ll start it, but I doubt I’ll drive it. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it, and, well … it would feel a little weird after driving Clementine all my life.”

  Mick turned away and squinted into the bright light of sun on snow. Willow came beside him, and the warmth of her seeped into him even as they stood apart.

  “Your dad and Shorty get off all right?”

  “Yeah. They left this morning.”

  To pull his attention from Willow, Mick focused on the clouds that were still playing with the treed mountains. There was a soft but cold breeze that came from the snowy slopes. It rustled Willow’s hair and the light from the snow highlighted her lovely face and eyes, and there was no denying the rising tide of tender passion that filled him, making it hard to breathe.

  Even the surrounding beauty was a reminder of Willow and how he’d known from their first walk together that she belonged in this place. When he was with her, he belonged here, too.

  Mick stepped close, and Willow stayed rooted to her spot as he looked into the depths of her clear green eyes. He hoped her desire to stay fixed in her place was an invitation. Could he touch her? Just this once? He reached up and cupped her face in his palm; the caress of her hair brushed against the skin on the back of his hand. Even now, on the frosty breath of winter, he could smell her summer lavender. It mixed with the scent of hay, snow, and the mountain pine. He breathed in deeply.

  Willow met his gaze and placed her hand on his arm, sending a shiver through his spine.

  “Willow.” His voice was a bare whisper as he moved closer and pulled her to him with his free arm around her waist.

  Willow reached up and covered his hand with her own. “I know,” she replied in a soft and slow whisper, pressing her cheek to his. “I know,” she breathed in his ear. Then, pulling away, she squeezed his fingers one last time. Tears glistened in her eyes as she smiled. “We need to get you on to the rest of your life.”