She scowled at him. “Of course, I can. I taught school for thirty-odd years. Who’d you say your people are? Were they in one of my classes?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I’m sure they’d be better people if they had been your students. My mother grew up back east and my father was from the New Orleans area. He’s passed now.”
He looked upward, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His face lit up with warmth.
“Molly,” he exclaimed. “What’s that I smell?”
Amanda watched her grandmother turn her head toward the kitchen. “Someone’s baking. Is it my ma?”
“It’s your granddaughter.”
He stood and turned Molly’s chair to face Amanda.
“Welcome home, Grandma.”
The moment Tucker heard Amanda utter those three simple words something crazy happened inside his chest. For a second he thought he might be having a heart attack but the tightness quickly disappeared, replaced instead with a honey-like sweetness. His uptight society girl had mellowed. Her smile appeared real and happy. Her pretty brown eyes seemed guileless, if a bit anxious. She’d admitted to being both proud and nervous about showing Molly the fruits of their labor.
Tucker made sure the transition over the threshold was smooth. He put a hand on the old woman’s shoulders to reassure her. At June’s behest, Amanda had hired a kitchen company from Bozeman to replace all the cabinets, install new marble countertops and top-end appliances.
“White cupboards?” Molly asked. “What fool thought that was a good idea? Who’s gonna clean ’em? Your mother was always talking about putting in white cupboards. Does June live here now?”
“No, Molly. But Mother did pick out the cabinets and the paint and the light fixtures. I think it’s pretty, don’t you?”
“It’s okay.”
A resounding raspberry, Tucker thought, trying to give Amanda an encouraging smile.
Unfortunately, the rest of the tour earned the same underwhelmed response from the homeowner. Molly’s reaction to seeing her bed, dressers and antique wardrobe moved to the first floor space that had been the front parlor brought a disinterested, “Where’s the piano?”
“I personally oversaw its move, Molly. I had it tuned, too,” he said, pushing her to an area that had served as a sunroom. Over the years, the frugal homeowner had turned the space into a storage area. New windows and oak flooring brought the room to life. He parked the wheelchair and took a seat at the handsome, gleaming baby grand. Amanda perched anxiously on the settee that had been in the front parlor.
He played a few bars of The Way It Is by Bruce Hornsby but quickly decided he needed something more appropriate for his audience. He chose Amazing Grace, one of Ona’s favorites. His fingers felt a little rusty, but he was pleased to see Molly’s shoulders relax as she tapped her toe.
She seemed talkative and in good spirits when Amanda served them warm pie and vanilla ice cream in the dining room, the one room that had remained mostly untouched, although the new recessed lighting made a huge improvement in Tucker’s opinion.
As she chewed a bite, Molly looked around, her expression finally at peace. “Patrick loved pie. He had a sweet tooth like no one I’ve ever met. Passed it on to your mother, poor girl. June got to be rather heavy in her junior high years. I tried to help her improve her eating habits, but girls don’t like to listen to their mothers when they hit a certain age.” She shook her head, obviously reliving a painful time.
She looked at Amanda and asked, “Is she a fatty like her daddy?”
“Mother has to work to maintain her weight, but she’s not overly heavy.”
“You can count your blessings you got my genes. We Liptons have always been able to eat what we want and not gain an ounce.” She pushed away her plate. “I’m ready to go back to that place. Peaches will be wondering where I went.”
“Peaches?” Tucker mouthed.
“Grandma, Peaches is here, remember? I bet he’d love to visit with you if we sit on the new back deck for a few minutes.”
Molly agreed to give it a try. And, sure enough, the old cat sprang to the deck with a loud, plaintive meow. Tucker, who felt sorry for the misnamed feline, had started carrying little treats in his pocket when he was working in the main house.
The cat was no fool. Instead of racing to see his old owner, the fickle beast wound in and out of Tucker’s bare ankles, crying plaintively.
“Uh-oh,” Tucker said when he spotted the disappointed look on Molly’s face.
He scooped up the big, black and white cat and deposited the animal on Molly’s lap, but the damage had been done. No amount of cajoling could turn the tide.
The cat’s lack of affection seemed the final nail in the coffin of Molly’s old life—the life she’d fought so hard to keep. Tucker’s heart broke to see fat tears slide silently down Molly’s withered and lined cheeks. He couldn’t help but think of Ona, who wasn’t that much younger than Molly.
The visit disintegrated pretty quickly from that point on, despite Amanda’s valiant attempts to distract her grandmother. But Molly appeared to have left the present for a less disappointing time in her life. She regaled them with memories that may or may not have been hers, since Tucker was pretty sure Molly never shook hands with Teddy Roosevelt in the flesh.
Since there weren’t any parking spots in the guest lot, he dropped off Molly and Amanda at the front door of the facility then pulled into a spot reserved for ambulances and medical personnel as he waited for Amanda to get her grandmother checked in.
“I feel like shit,” he told Amanda when she returned to the car. “One of the first rules you learn in show business is never work with animals or little kids. Too damn unpredictable.”
She reached over to stroke his arm supportively. “The nurse just reminded me that Molly’s mood changes rather dramatically in the late afternoon and evening. The cat wasn’t your fault, Tucker.”
Maybe not, but something was bothering him and he had a sneaking suspicion his somber, introspective mood had to do more with his feelings for Amanda than what had happened with Molly. Without really being aware of it, she’d gotten under his skin. He cared for her—too much. He cared about her grandmother. That was not a good thing. He liked to keep relationships superficial for a reason. He was a like ’em and leave ’em sort of guy.
Like, not love. Never love. Love hurt too damn much when you walked away. And he always left. It was in his genes.
Besides, even if he wanted to stay here with Amanda, he couldn’t. The zip line wouldn’t produce any income during the winter months. He needed to be back on the Great American Male Show circuit by November at the latest. What good would it do either of them to linger?
Amanda was done setting up his website, more or less, and the grand opening PR was in place. Their barter was complete on both sides. There would be nothing to keep them together, although neither had brought up a timeline for moving out of the guesthouse. Tucker figured he had a couple of weeks at most before they went their separate ways.
And that wasn’t going to change. Period.
But they had until then to have fun.
As he pulled into the driveway between the two houses, he said, “So, if you’re going to write a great sales pitch for the zip line, don’t you think you should test it out?”
“Me? Zip? For real?”
“I’ve reserved a spot for you. First thing in the morning.”
Chapter Eleven
The morning air couldn’t have been more perfect, Tucker thought the next day. Cool with a hint of the heat to come.
July, he’d been told, was a favorite month for sporting enthusiasts. From online conversations he’d had with other zip line owners around the country, the weather could make you or break you in this business. One place in California kept rain gear on hand for the winter months. Tucker would have to stock up for the spring, but he planned to close the gate and hit the dance circuit at the end of September. Or mid-October at the very lates
t.
At least, that was the plan. Justin had other ideas.
“Cross-country skiing, man,” Justin said, as he helped Amanda into her harness.
“I’ve heard snowshoeing is popular, too,” Amanda added.
“Great. Who’s going to build the lodge? Cold-weather sports need a place to warm up. The tent won’t work,” Tucker said, stepping into his harness. He pulled it up snug and leaned over to work his shoulders through the top straps like a pair of suspenders.
Glancing to his right, he saw Justin apply the locking carabiner to the two attachment loops at Amanda’s chest. “Get out of the way. Let me do that.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Picky.”
“Letch.”
Amanda snickered, obviously beginning to loosen up. She’d offered a slew of excuses to avoid testing out the zip line this morning, but Tucker remained adamant that she needed to experience the thrill in order to sell the thrill.
Mountie’s Marvelous Montana Zip Line was set to open in twenty-four hours. Most of that time would be devoted to zipping the guides so they could get down every safety measure, but the business side of things was equally important.
That’s where Amanda came in. His website looked great and seemed to be running smoothly. Since Ryker Bensen was still on his honeymoon, Amanda had hired Ryker’s photographer friend to take still shots to plaster around the Internet. And she had a professional videographer lined up to film testimonials from guests as soon as the lines were operational.
“Did I tell you Mountie’s Marvelous website already has had more than a 100K visits and zips are being booked at a phenomenal rate considering we don’t have any reviews posted yet?”
“Yes, you did,” Amanda said. “Did I tell you Bailey Zabrinski and Kat Robinson are bringing a carload of kids to test it out—and talk it up—this afternoon?”
“Cool.”
But the morning belonged to Tucker and Amanda.
“Sit into the harness and lift up your feet so I can make sure it’s snug enough,” he told her.
He made a couple of adjustments, his fingers lingering on the sun-kissed skin of her upper thighs. “How’s that feel?”
“Perfect.”
He noticed Justin watching so he quickly made the same adjustments to his own harness. “I haven’t done this since Mexico. Fell completely in love with the idea of affordable cheap thrills.”
“Isn’t that redundant?” Justin asked.
“You’re redundant.”
Amanda stepped between them. “Welcome to Testosterone City,” she said with a laugh. “Are we going to do this or not? My mother is coming, remember?”
She’d broken the news that morning.
“My mother is making an unplanned site inspection,” she’d told him, with such a flat, dispassionate tone she had to have practiced the delivery. “She also plans to attend Molly’s competency hearing.”
Tucker wasn’t completely surprised, since June’s lawyers were the ones who’d initiated the petition to have Molly declared incompetent.
“Are we ready?” Justin asked, taking charge of the zip. “You’re going to make a lateral practice run first. Nice and easy.” He looked at Tucker. “Do you want to go first?”
“You bet.”
“Wait,” Amanda said, her hand settling with familiarity and a certain amount of concern on his bare forearm. “Are you sure your doctor cleared this?”
“Yep,” Tucker fibbed. He hadn’t asked his ortho doc specifically if it was safe to zip, but the man had given him the okay to resume normal activities. Jumping around was normal for Tucker. He’d wrapped his ankle just in case and he’d chosen to wear hiking boots that laced to the mid-shin. The boots had protected his ankles through some of the most difficult terrain on the planet. A little zip was not going to be a problem.
As per protocol, one of their newly trained guides, a college girl named Kelly, went through the step-by-step safety instructions. “Feet extended, sit back in the harness and let gravity do its job. Squeeze to brake with a four-to-six-foot lead. Ease to a stop.”
He caught most of her words, even though his gaze remained on Amanda, who appeared to be having a serious conversation with Justin. What are they talking about? Me? The business? The grand opening? The possibilities were endless, and he had no reason to be jealous. Absolutely zero.
So, why was he?
He recognized the emotion, even though he went out of his way to avoid feeling enough of an attachment to anyone or anything to ever be jealous.
“Are we good?” Kelly asked.
“Yes.” He regretted his testy tone when she frowned and looked a little hurt. Hurting the feelings of cute girls was so not his style, but he was too preoccupied at the moment to care. He turned toward his destination pole, pushed off and picked up his feet.
Did his ankle twinge a tiny bit? Maybe, but nothing to worry about. This was a piece of cake.
Except for the fact he completely misjudged his braking distance and wound up dangling like a dufus fifteen feet from the landing pole. Justin’s bark of laughter carried across the pure mountain air. Proof, of course, that Tucker’s focus was shot.
With a little help from the guide who had been braced to prevent his collision with the padded pole, Tucker managed to make it to the platform. His guide disconnected the line and directed him to a safe spot to watch the next zipper. Amanda. Considerably lighter—and with a great deal more grace—she zipped right to the platform, braking like a pro.
Tucker barely noticed. All he could see was the light of joy in her face, the unguarded pleasure in her eyes and the smile that lassoed his heart and squeezed the air out of his lungs.
Oh, good God, he thought. It’s finally happened. I’m in freakin’ love.
Amanda honestly couldn’t believe how different she felt after she finished zipping. Alive, energized, bursting with creative ideas.
“Good heavens, is it like this for everyone?” she asked, trying to understand the cathartic rejuvenation.
“I tend to blame the adrenaline rush you get from risking your life. It’s the same when you crest,” Justin told her.
“But I never felt as if my life was in jeopardy. After the initial pass—”
Justin interrupted. “You mean the one you aced while old pro Tucker missed the mark?”
His laughter made Tucker’s upper lip quiver, but he didn’t say a word.
“I was too busy concentrating on not crashing into the pole to be afraid the first time,” Amanda said. “And after that, I was hooked. I want to go again.”
The sensation of flying through the air made her shriek with joy. The bird’s eye perspective changed her. She felt as though she could jump from an airplane, hike the Pacific Coast Trail, or go climb a mountain.
Since Tucker would be working all day with Justin and their new crew to prepare for tomorrow’s grand opening, Amanda had planned to drive back to town alone. “Okay. I’m taking off. I’m officially a zip fanatic and I plan to work that into my ad copy.”
She planted a healthy kiss on Tucker’s mouth, not caring who was around to see. As she started back to the main parking lot, she happened to look down at the base of the pole and saw inscribed in the cement the word: Amanda, centered in a heart.
The image kept a goofy smile plastered to her face the whole way home.
Not home home, she reminded herself. Her temporary home. That was all it was and all it would ever be.
After a quick shower, she sat down at her computer and let her mind run with a couple of ideas before heading to Molly’s. When she glanced at the clock, the day was nearly gone.
Wow, she thought, when was the last time that happened? Getting lost in her work? Too long ago to remember.
Plus, she knew she’d created some of the best ad copy she’d ever written. Not just for Mountie’s Marvelous Montana Zip Line, either. She couldn’t wait to show Serena James the new logo she’d come up with for Serena’s alpaca breeding operation website.
&nb
sp; “The Line Starts Here” struck her as a provocative lead, and she’d sketched out a few visual components to make it rock.
Fifteen minutes later, she signed the visitor log of the rehab center where Molly had been living and walked to her grandmother’s room.
To her surprise, a man she’d never seen before was sitting in the lone visitor chair. “Hello. Who are you?”
“Wendell Green.” He handed her a card.
A lawyer, she guessed, even before she read the names and commas.
“What are you doing here?”
“You’re Amanda, I take it. Your mother described you well. Very nice to make your acquaintance.”
Oily. Slick.
She walked to Molly, who was dressed in the outfit Amanda had picked out and asked the staff to make sure she wore. It was new and matched—unlike most of her clothing. Except for her socks. Molly abhorred wearing socks that matched. A quirky obsession Amanda had come to adore.
“You look beautiful, Grandma.”
Molly refused to look at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“You know.”
Amanda walked around the bed and leaned over until they made eye contact. “No, I don’t. Did this man say something to upset you?”
Molly’s lips pressed together firmly, but her chin quivered.
Amanda turned toward the stranger. “What’s going on?”
She watched his demeanor change from jovial to all business. “I’ll be representing your mother at the hearing tomorrow. I thought Mrs. O’Neal might prefer to save the state the time and effort of a hearing by signing this statement assigning Durable Power of Attorney over both her health matters and finances to her daughter.”
Montana Rogue (Big Sky Mavericks Book 7) Page 13
