Snowbound in Sweetwater Ranch

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Snowbound in Sweetwater Ranch Page 17

by RaeAnne Thayne


  He kissed her, and though it was chaste enough for the family crowd gathered in the ballroom, her insides still clenched with desire. Every time they touched, this same heat sparked between them.

  She had to admit she’d been a little afraid the wild passion between them after the charity gala had just been chance, a result of the romance of the night and maybe too much champagne. But any doubts she might have had on that score were quickly laid to rest on their honeymoon. She flushed, remembering.

  If anything, their lovemaking had been better. Their shared love added a deep emotional intensity she never would have imagined.

  She was warm suddenly from more than the exertion and the crowded ballroom. “I could use some water and fresh air.”

  With the solicitous care that constantly amazed her, he led her over to the bar and snagged a glass of ice water. “I’m sorry you can’t have champagne,” he said when he handed the water to her.

  She made a wry face. “I’m not. It makes me do crazy things.”

  “I know. Believe me, I plan to keep that in mind after you have the baby.”

  His teasing leer made her laugh. “I don’t need champagne when I’m around you. You’re intoxicating enough.”

  At that, he had to stop and kiss her again. When he lifted his head, Katie felt someone watching them. She shifted her gaze from Peter’s to find a dark-haired man watching them. He looked somehow familiar but she couldn’t place him. She gave him a hesitant smile, a little unnerved by something in his expression.

  He quickly looked away but not before she thought she saw confusion and naked pain in his eyes.

  That was odd, she thought, but her attention was diverted when Leslie and Terrence approached them. Peter kissed his mother on the cheek while Terrence threaded his arm through Katie’s

  “Everything is so lovely,” Katie told Peter’s mother. “You did a wonderful job with this reception.”

  “It’s not every day that a mother’s oldest son gets married.” Leslie smiled at her. “And since we missed that part when the two of you rushed to Las Vegas, I wanted the reception to be spectacular.”

  That had been one of the biggest shocks of her marriage, Katie acknowledged. Peter had been right. Once they learned a child was on the way and realized their son loved her, Terrence and Leslie had welcomed her into their family—with hesitant arms at first, but their initial reserve had quickly melted. Already she was coming to care for them.

  “Thank you. We’ll remember this night for the rest of our lives.”

  Leslie smiled and reached for her hand. “You make a beautiful bride, Katie. My son is a lucky man.”

  She still wasn’t sure she quite believed that—the beautiful part anyway—but after a week of marriage, she was beginning to see herself through different eyes. Maybe it was pregnancy, or maybe it came from being so deeply loved, but she had decided she wasn’t the Crosby ugly duckling after all. She never had been. She had just preferred hiding in that invisible comfort zone.

  Leaving it had been terrifying but so worth it, Katie thought, a sweet joy settling in her chest. Who would have believed the night of the bachelor charity auction that in a few months’ time she would find herself married to the man she had loved since an act of kindness more than a decade ago, the man she loved more than she ever thought possible?

  The baby moved, almost as if sensing her thoughts, and she smiled and touched a hand to her abdomen.

  “How’s he doing?” Peter asked. An ultrasound the day before had revealed their child was definitely a boy.

  “Fine. I think he wants to dance.”

  Peter smiled. “We’d better oblige him, don’t you think?”

  Their baby would come into a loving home, Katie thought as her husband took her into his arms, to a mother and father who already adored him and each other.

  She couldn’t ask for anything more.

  * * *

  With an odd feeling of unreality, Everett Baker watched the newly married couple share a tender embrace then turn to smile at the groom’s parents.

  The Logans’ oldest son and his bride.

  His chest tightened and he couldn’t seem to breathe in the stuffy ballroom. He felt odd, dizzy and a little nauseated as he watched them together. They looked so in love, so full of joy.

  He should never have come. He didn’t belong here with these happy, good, decent people. But when that invitation had arrived, as it had to all employees of Children’s Connection, he had stared at a single line for hours.

  Peter Logan, son of Leslie and Terrence Logan.

  The line rang in his head like some horrible nursery rhyme, crowding everything else out until it was the only thing he could think about.

  He hadn’t been able to stay away but now that he was here, he knew coming had been a terrible mistake.

  You’re nothing, boy. Less than nothing.

  He heard Lester Baker’s voice in his head, as he did so often, and knew the man was right. Everett shouldn’t be here. He didn’t deserve to be here.

  He jostled his way through the crowd and hurried out the door, away from all this laughter and dancing and painful happiness and into the darkness where he belonged.

  * * * * *

  Charming, heartfelt and simply enchanting…

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  Bo never imagined he’d be tasked with caring for a sibling he didn’t know existed. Then again, he never pictured himself impulsively kissing vibrant, compassionate Katrina in the moonlight. Now he’s ready to make her dream of family come true…and hoping there’s room in it for him, too…

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  “[Thayne] engages the reader’s heart and emotions, inspiring hope and the belief that miracles are possible.”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

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  Come stay awhile at Brambleberry House, a place infused with acceptance, healing and heart as only RaeAnne Thayne can imagine it…

  Read on for a preview of the first story in BRAMBLEBERRY HOUSE

  by New York Times bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne

  available February 2017 from HQN Books!

  CHAPTER 1

  As signs from heaven went, this one seemed fairly prosaic. No choir of angels, no booming voice from above or anything like that. It was simply a hand-lettered placard shoved into the seagrass in front of the massive, ornate Victorian that had drifted through her memory for most of her life.

  Apartment For Rent.

  Julia stared at the sign
with growing excitement. It seemed impossible, a miracle. That this house, of all places, would be available for rent just as she was looking for a temporary home seemed just the encouragement her doubting heart needed to reaffirm her decision to pack up her twins and take a new teaching job in Cannon Beach. Not even to herself had she truly admitted how worried she was that she’d made a terrible mistake moving here, leaving everything familiar and heading into the unknown.

  Seeing that sign in front of Brambleberry House seemed an answer to prayer, a confirmation that this was where she and her little family were supposed to be.

  “Cool house!” Maddie exclaimed softly, gazing up in awe at the three stories of Queen Anne Victorian, with its elaborate trim, cupolas and weathered shake roof. “It looks like a gingerbread house!”

  Julia squeezed her daughter’s hand, certain Maddie looked a little healthier today in the bracing sea air of the Oregon Coast.

  “Cool dog!” her twin, Simon, yelled. The words were barely out of his mouth when a giant red blur leaped over the low wrought-iron fence surrounding the house and wriggled around them with glee, as if he’d been waiting years just for them to walk down the beach.

  The dog licked Simon’s face and headbutted his stomach like an old friend. Julia braced herself to push him away if he got too rough with Maddie, but she needn’t have worried. As if guided by some sixth sense, the dog stopped his wild gyrations and waited docilely for Maddie to reach out a tentative hand and pet him. Maddie giggled, a sound that was priceless as all the sea glass in the world to Julia.

  “I think he likes me,” she whispered.

  “I think so, too, sweetheart.” Julia smiled and tucked a strand of Maddie’s fine short hair behind her ear.

  “Do you really know the lady who lives here?” Maddie asked, while Simon was busy wrestling the dog in the sand.

  “I used to, a long, long time ago,” Julia answered. “She was my very best friend.”

  Her heart warmed as she remembered Abigail Dandridge and her unfailing kindness to a lonely little girl. Her mind filled with memories of admiring her vast doll collection, of pruning the rose hedge along the fence with her, of shared confidences and tea parties and sand dollar hunts along the beach.

  “Like Jenna back home is my best friend?” Maddie asked.

  “That’s right.”

  Every summer of her childhood, Brambleberry House became a haven of serenity and peace for her. Her family rented the same cottage just down the beach each July. It should have been a time of rest and enjoyment, but her parents couldn’t stop fighting even on vacation.

  Whenever she managed to escape to Abigail and Brambleberry House, though, Julia didn’t have to listen to their arguments, didn’t have to see her mother’s tears or her father’s obvious impatience at the enforced holiday, his wandering eye.

  Her fifteenth summer was the last time she’d been here. Her parents finally divorced, much to her and her older brother Charlie’s relief, and they never returned to Cannon Beach. But over the years, she had used the image of this house, with its soaring gables and turrets, and the peace she had known here to help center her during difficult times.

  Through her parents’ bitter divorce, through her own separation from Kevin and worse. Much worse.

  “Is she still your best friend?” Maddie asked.

  “I haven’t seen Miss Abigail for many, many years,” she said. “But you know, I don’t think I realized until just this moment how very much I’ve missed her.”

  She should never have let so much time pass before coming back to Cannon Beach. She had let their friendship slip away, too busy being a confused and rebellious teenager caught in the middle of the endless drama between her parents. And then had come college and marriage and family.

  Perhaps now that she was back, they could find that friendship once more. She couldn’t wait to find out.

  She opened the wrought-iron gate and headed up the walkway feeling as if she were on the verge of something oddly portentous.

  She rang the doorbell and heard it echo through the house. Anticipation zinged through her as she waited, wondering what she would possibly say to Abigail after all these years. Would her lovely, wrinkled features match Julia’s memory?

  No one answered after several moments, even after she rang the doorbell a second time. She stood on the porch, wondering if she ought to leave a note with their hotel and her cell phone number, but it seemed impersonal, somehow, after all these years.

  They would just have to check back, she decided. She headed back down the stairs and started for the gate again just as she heard the whine of a power tool from behind the house.

  The dog, who looked like a mix between an Irish setter and a golden retriever, barked and headed toward the sound, pausing at the corner of the house, head cocked, as if waiting for them to come along with him.

  After a wary moment, she followed, Maddie and Simon close on her heels.

  The dog led them to the backyard, where Julia found a couple of sawhorses set up and a man with brown hair and broad shoulders running a circular saw through a board.

  She watched for a moment, waiting for their presence to attract his attention, but he didn’t look up from his work.

  “Hello,” she called out. When he still didn’t respond, she moved closer so she would be in his field of vision and waved.

  “Excuse me!”

  Finally, he shut off the saw and pulled his safety goggles off, setting them atop his head.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  She squinted and looked closer at him. He looked familiar. A hint of a memory danced across her subconscious and she was so busy trying to place him that it took her a moment to respond.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you. I rang the doorbell but I guess you couldn’t hear me back here with the power tools.”

  “Guess not.”

  He spoke tersely, as if impatient to return to work, and Julia could feel herself growing flustered. She had braced herself to see Abigail, not some solemn-eyed construction worker in a sexy tool belt.

  “I…right. Um, I’m looking for Abigail Dandridge.”

  There was an awkward pause and she thought she saw something flicker in his blue eyes.

  “Are you a friend of hers?” he asked, his voice not quite as abrupt as it had been before.

  “I used to be, a long time ago. Can you tell me when she’ll be back? I don’t mind waiting.”

  The dog barked, only with none of the exuberance he had shown a few moments ago, almost more of a whine than a bark. He plopped onto the grass and dipped his chin to his front paws, his eyes suddenly morose.

  The man gazed at the dog’s curious behavior for a moment. A muscle tightened in his jaw then he looked back at Julia. “Abigail died in April. Heart attack in her sleep. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.”

  Julia couldn’t help her instinctive cry of distress. Even through her sudden surge of grief, she sensed when Maddie stepped closer and slipped a small, frail hand in hers.

  Julia drew a breath, then another. “I…see,” she mumbled. Just one more loss in a long, unrelenting string, she thought. But this one seemed to pierce her heart like jagged driftwood.

  It was silly, really, when she thought about it. Abigail hadn’t been a presence in her life for sixteen years, but suddenly the loss of her seemed overwhelming.

  She swallowed hard, struggling for composure. Her friend was gone, but her house was still here, solid and reassuring, weathering this storm as it had others for generations.

  Somehow it seemed more important than ever that she bring her children here.

  “I see,” she repeated, more briskly now, though she thought she saw a surprising understanding in the deep blue of the man’s eyes, so disconcertingly familiar. She knew him. She knew she did.

  “I suppose I should talk to you, then. The sign out front says there’s an apartment for rent. How many bedrooms does it have?”

  He gave her a long look before turning away t
o pick up another board and carry it to the saw. “Three bedrooms, two of them on the small side. Kitchen’s been redone in the last few months and the electricity’s been upgraded but the bathroom plumbing’s still in pretty rough shape.” “I don’t care about that, as long as everything works okay. Three bedrooms is exactly the size my children and I need. Is it still available?” “Can’t say.”

  She pursed her lips. “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t own the place. I live a few houses down the beach. I’m just doing some repairs for the owners.”

  Something about what he said jarred loose a flood of memories and she stared at him more closely. Suddenly everything clicked in and she gasped, stunned she hadn’t realized his identity the instant she had clapped eyes on him.

  “Will? Will Garrett?”

  He peered at her. “Do I know you?”

  She managed a smile. “Probably not. It’s been years.” She held out a hand, her pulse suddenly wild and erratic, as it had always been around him.

  “Julia Blair. You knew me when I was Julia Hudson. My parents rented a cottage between your house and Brambleberry House every summer of my childhood until I was fifteen. I used to follow you and my older brother, Charlie, around everywhere.”

  Will Garrett. She’d forgotten so much about those summers, but never him. She had wondered whether she would see him, had wondered about his life and where he might end up. She never expected to find him standing in front of her on her first full day in town.

  “It’s been years!” she repeated. “I can’t believe you’re still here.”

  At her words, it took Will all of about two seconds to remember her. When he did, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it before. He had yearned for Julia Hudson that summer as only a relatively innocent sixteen-year-old boy can ache. He had dreamed of her green eyes and her dimples and her soft, burgeoning curves.

  She had been his first real love and had haunted his dreams.

  She had promised to keep in touch but she hadn’t called or answered any of his letters and he remembered how his teenage heart had been shattered. But by the time school started a month later, he’d been so busy with football practice and school and working for his dad’s carpentry business on Saturdays that he hadn’t really had much time to wallow in his heartbreak.

 

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