by Jane Porter
Bundling up, Whitney headed to Main Street, just two blocks away. Fortunately, it had stopped snowing just fifteen minutes ago and everything was blissfully white and bright. Kids were playing further up Bramble but she didn’t pass anyone on her way down 2nd Street.
Denver saw a lot of snow but the snow seemed different here. In downtown Denver you wouldn’t see kids with sleds or having a snowball fight, whereas Marietta made her feel like she was on vacation, in one of those charming little ski towns.
Whitney ended up at Java Café for a bowl of soup and a half sandwich. She was the only customer in the café tonight. “The snow has really shut this place down,” Whitney said, carrying her dishes up to the counter.
The girl behind the counter shook her head. “It just looks dead right now but everyone’s either at Grey’s Saloon or the Wolf Den watching the game.”
“What game?”
“The Broncos-Cowboys. My boyfriend’s a big Cowboys fan so he’s been texting me updates.”
“Is there much time left to the game?”
“I think they’re in the 3rd quarter. He said it’s a good game, almost all passing with Manning and Romo both putting on a show.”
“Where did you say people watch around here?” Whitney wasn’t a big football fan, but if she were cheering for a team, she’d have to cheer on the Broncos.
“Grey’s Saloon, one block from here. Don’t go to Wolf Den. It’s on Front Street near the highway, but it’s pretty much bikers and truckers. Pretty hard core.”
Whitney thanked her and headed to Grey’s. It felt a little strange walking into a new bar on her own, but she liked Grey’s as soon as she stepped through the big wooden door. It reminded her of the old bars that had once lined Bozeman’s Main Street. The only problem was that Grey’s had drawn a crowd for the game and all the tables and booths were filled. There wasn’t a lot of seating at the long bar counter, either. She was just about to leave when a tall dark haired man approached Whitney.
“I know you,” he said, extending his hand. “Don’t I?”
He was really good looking and most definitely a Sheenan. Cormac might be blonde but he had the same height and bone structure. “It’s Troy, right?” she said, taking his hand.
“I thought I recognized you. You’re Whitney. Cormac’s friend.”
Cormac’s friend.
That was debatable, she thought but she wasn’t about to say that to his brother. “I heard there was a game on, thought I’d check it out, but it’s pretty crazy in here.”
“Come sit with Taylor and me. My wife would enjoy some girl energy. It’s kind of heavy on testosterone in here tonight.”
Whitney enjoyed the next hour and a half, sitting with Taylor and Troy, drinking beer, chatting about this and that, while also cheering on Peyton Manning and the Broncos. It was a very high scoring game but in the end, the Broncos pulled out the win.
Whitney was delighted to discover that Taylor was Marietta’s head librarian and a member of the relatively new Historical Society. Taylor filled Whitney in on the Big Wedding Giveaway held two years ago February to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Graff’s reopening and the original 1914 Great Wedding Giveaway. “We have an exhibit at the library on the 2nd floor. You should come by and see it. Pretty fascinating stuff.”
“You love your history,” Whitney said.
“I do,” Taylor agreed. “And I’m so happy Cormac bought the old Crookshank Building. You know that was originally the Crookshank Department Store? Women came from all over Gallatin, Crawford and Park counties to shop there. It was quite the place in its day.”
Troy and Taylor both asked questions about the renovation work being done at the building, interested in Cormac’s technology solutions. Troy had a whole list of questions that Whitney couldn’t answer with confidence. “I confess, that is not my area. But I should know, shouldn’t I?” she said.
Taylor shook her head. “Troy is all about high-tech. That’s what he lives and breathes so don’t let him get to you.” She pointed a finger at her husband. “Why aren’t you having this conversation with Cormac?”
“Good point,” he answered, giving Taylor a kiss. “I think I will. Should be easy since he’s heading this way right now.
Whitney straightened abruptly and pushed back her beer bottle.
Not at all prepared to see Cormac now.
And then he was at their table, tall, tan, golden and gorgeous. It was almost as if she’d never seen him before. For a split-second she felt like one of the wide-eyed girls at the table across from them eying him with obvious appreciation. But then, he was an impressive male, especially when he was flying solo, as he was now.
Her gaze swept him from head to toe, taking in the way he’d planted his feet in the all-weather boots. His old faded Levis sat low on his hips making the most of his lean hips and small, hard butt. His snug thermal shirt wrapped his biceps like a glove.
He looked good. Sexy. Virile. Alpha male to the max.
If he was surprised to see her with his brother and Taylor, he didn’t show it. His gaze met hers and held, his smile lazy even as he answered Troy’s question about Daisy, and how Bella Davis, a local high school girl who was the daughter of friends, was watching Daisy so Cormac could get a few things done.
Was this his idea of getting a few things done?
She didn’t know, but she couldn’t look away from him, either.
He knew it, too. She flushed, growing hot all over, even as her heart did a jagged two-step. He was so easy on the eyes.
And so smart at the same time.
She liked his body but she loved his mind. She’d always had a weakness for really intelligent guys.
Moments like this made it easy to remember why she’d fallen for him. And moments like this could also get her into serious trouble.
She needed to go before she said or did anything stupid.
“I should head back,” she said, standing. “Need my beauty sleep.” She turned to Troy and Taylor. “Thanks so much for including me. It was great fun.” She glanced at Cormac. “See you tomorrow, boss.”
“Not your boss,” he said, walking her out.
She rolled her eyes as he pushed open the heavy saloon door. “You absolutely are.”
“Only during office hours.”
“Which is 24/7 when I work for you.” She shivered at the gust of wind that greeted them as they stepped outside. “Bozeman was never this windy and cold,” she said, shivering again.
“It’s the valley. It’s a wind tunnel.” He snapped his leather barn coat closed. “And I was serious. You don’t have to leave just because I’ve arrived. Stay, have a beer, hang out with us.”
“I’ve had two. That’s plenty.” She tipped her head back to see the sky. The clouds had cleared and the moon shone high and full. “Pretty night.”
“You had fun though? With Troy and Taylor?”
She nodded as she slipped on her gloves. “I did. They’re good people, and it’s obvious they’re really happy together.”
“They are an opposites attract story. But it works.”
“Maybe that’s the best kind because it’s unexpected.” She smiled then shivered, bundling her arms across her chest. “I’m going to get going before we freeze to death. See you tomorrow.”
“Let me drive you back to the hotel.”
“I’m fine. I’ll walk.” She hesitated. “And I’m not at the Graff anymore. I moved out of the Graff this afternoon.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the Bramble House.”
His eyebrows rose. “Until January?”
“My room at the B&B was half the price of the Graff, so I’m saving you a lot of money.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“Well, you should. But I’m going to be happier at the B&B, too. I have my own room over the garage, with my own entrance so I can come and go without disturbing anyone. I think it’s going to work out really well.” She saw his expressio
n and added. “Cormac, it’s not good for us to be on top of each other. This way we have some distance and down time. And I do like it there. It’s homey…cozy. I even have a fireplace in my room.”
“I just hope—” he broke off, chewed his lower lip. “I hope—” He grimaced, trying to find the words, and obviously uncomfortable with what he was trying to say. “—you didn’t leave because of me.”
“No.” Liar, she told herself.
“I want to apologize—”
“Not necessary.”
“It is.”
“No.” She took a step back, hands buried in her coat pockets. “We go back a long way. We have a lot of history. It was a very brief kiss.”
“But you have a boyfriend and I knew it and I’m sorry.”
She cringed inwardly at the reference to a boyfriend. Jason wasn’t her boyfriend. She shouldn’t have ever said that. “Apology accepted and now I think we should just you know…let it go.”
“Like the theme song from Frozen?”
She grinned. It was the last thing she’d expected. “You are really up on your Disney trivia.”
“Not trivia when you live with a preschooler. I think I’ve watched Frozen one hundred times. And I’m not joking. I could probably recite every line.” He smiled with wry humor, and even his eyes smiled, too, with creases fanning from the corners.
She didn’t think he’d ever been more ruggedly handsome, and yet he was also far more approachable. Being a father had turned him into someone rather likeable.
“Let’s see how good you really are with the lyrics,” she teased.
“Throw me a lyric. I’ll finish it for you.”
Whitney had to think about the song for a moment until she could hear it in her head. “Okay, here we go. Let the storm rage on…”
“…the cold never bothered me anyway.”
“Impressive,” she said. But can you sing it?”
“You’re heartless.”
“Just wondering how committed you are.”
“Oh, I’m very committed. One hundred percent in, darling.” And then he sang the line, “The cold never bothered me anyway!”
Whitney laughed, delighted. “That was awesome. Thank you.” She kept laughing and had to wipe tears from her eyes. “I wish I’d recorded that. I’d love to share your vocal with all Sheenan Inc. employees.”
“Again, you’re heartless.”
“I’ve learned from the best,” she said with a nod at him, but then softened any sting with a smile. “You don’t need to walk me back. I’ve got it.”
“Wouldn’t feel right letting you walk in the dark. I’ll see you there. Come on, let’s get going.”
“Want to sing me the rest while we walk?”
“No, sassy pants. Entertainment’s over.”
But he was grinning and she smiled right back. Cormac Sheenan wasn’t all bad. In fact, Cormac Sheenan could sometimes be very good.
Chapter Eleven
‡
He’d made her laugh, which was good. That was the bright spot in an otherwise difficult week.
Daisy, who’d been so delighted that Whitney was under the same roof with them at the Graff, was shattered to discover that her godmother was now gone. Cormac tried to comfort her but Daisy didn’t understand why Whitney would stay somewhere else when the Graff was huge and beautiful and looked just like Christmas. And then Daisy wanted to know if Whitney would be having Thanksgiving dinner with them, and he told her no, which made her cry harder.
On the home front, the remodel of his house was at a standstill. Cormac and Josie couldn’t communicate. Whitney had no problem understanding his vision but Josie just looked blank when he was talking. There were times he honestly did not think they were both speaking English, which frustrated him to no end. He didn’t have time to waste and he hated repeating himself. Most of all, he hated the whole blank thing. What was that?
To make it worse, Heath phoned Cormac Tuesday night to tell Cormac to lay off Josie, that it wasn’t Josie’s fault that Cormac couldn’t make a decision to save his life. Before he knew it he was in a pissing match with Heath, and when Cormac slammed the phone down, he wasn’t sure he even had a contractor anymore.
Hell.
Nothing was going right.
And now Thanksgiving was just a day away and instead of Cormac focusing on his business and the move and the house, he found himself worrying about Whitney. He felt guilty for kissing her. He felt like a schmuck because he knew she had a boyfriend but in that moment outside his hotel room, he hadn’t cared. In that moment, he’d wanted to be the boyfriend.
If he were brutally honest with himself he’d admit that part of him still felt like her boyfriend.
There had never been another woman that had meant as much to him as Whitney. If he believed in soul mates and all that, maybe he would have said she was his…
But now it was too late. He knew it was too late. She rebuffed him at every turn. And so he didn’t reach out to her to ask about her plans for Thanksgiving, but he wondered and worried. He hoped she wouldn’t be alone for the holiday. He hoped someone might have extended an invite to her. Or maybe the B&B was doing a special dinner.
Let someone have extended a hand…
*
After lunch on Wednesday, Whitney headed over to Copper Mountain Chocolates to buy chocolates to give to Josie and Heath as a small Thanksgiving gift. She also planned on picking up something for Eliza Bramble to share with her husband and great-aunt, although Mable Bramble wanted as little contact with the guests as possible.
The chocolate shop was busy with customers ordering last minute chocolate turkeys and cornucopias for their Thanksgiving tables, but Whitney was happy to wait her turn.
The pretty redhead owner, Sage, was behind the counter with two aproned helpers today, and even though she was slammed, she spotted Whitney and made a point of waiting on her personally. “How are you?” she asked warmly. “How is everything at the Bramble House?”
“How did you know I was staying there?”
“Eliza Bramble is my cousin.”
“Small town.”
Sage laughed. “Very small. And I know almost everyone here.” She offered Whitney a chocolate truffle sample.
Whitney popped the dark spicy chocolate into her mouth. Her eyes widened.
“Mango chile,” Sage said. “It’s got a bit of heat.”
“But delicious.” Whitney licked a smudge of chocolate from her lip. “I wanted to get three boxes of something to give for Thanksgiving gifts. What do you recommend?”
“I’d do a mix of our salted caramels and truffles.”
“Let’s do that.”
As Sage rang up the purchase she asked Whitney if she was going to be joining the Sheenans for Thanksgiving.
Whitney shook her head. “No. I think that would be awkward for all.”
“Taylor was in here yesterday. She said you watched the football game with them on Sunday and that you were wonderful. I’m sure you’d be welcome over there—”
“It’s not that comfortable for Cormac and me.”
Sage shot her an assessing glance. “But you’re here in Marietta with him.”
“Working for him.”
“Taylor said you two used to date.”
Whitney flushed, cheeks growing hot. She didn’t know where to look. “It’s complicated.”
“I had one of those relationships,” Sage replied, sympathy in her eyes.
“How did that turn out?”
Sage grinned. “I married him.”
*
Whitney didn’t need to worry about having to eat at the diner for Thanksgiving dinner. She ended up getting an invitation from Taylor and Troy—which she turned down—as well as an invite from Eliza Bramble to join the Brambles and Carrigans at the Circle C Ranch.
Whitney turned that invite down, too, until Sage, the owner of Copper Mountain Chocolates, showed up at the B&B Wednesday night and urged Whitney to accept the invitation t
o join her family for dinner at the Carrigan ranch. “You can’t spend Thanksgiving alone,” she said. “It’s wrong. Come with us to dinner. Dawson and I can pick you up so you don’t have to worry about finding the Circle C—”
“I don’t want you to have to fuss.”
“It’s not a hassle. We live just down the street so it’d be very easy to swing by and scoop you up. It’s always fun to have a new face at the table.”
*
Dawson, Sage and Savannah picked Whitney up at noon. It was a twenty minute drive to the Paradise Valley ranch and Sage pointed out various properties and landmarks on the way. It was a clear day, and bitingly cold. Even at noon, frost still glittered on fence posts and barn roofs.
“That’s the MacCreadie ranch,” Sage said as Dawson’s big truck traveled down the narrow lane. “And over that way is the Douglas ranch. Not sure if you have met McKenna. She’s married to Trey Sheenan. She was raised there.”
“That must be TJ’s mom,” Whitney said. “Daisy talks about them a lot.”
Sage gestured out the window. “And that river is the dividing line between the Sheenan spread and my family’s place.”
Whitney craned her head to get a good look. “Your property butts up against each other?”
“It was an issue growing up. Bill Sheenan and my father did not get along. We were forbidden from playing with the Sheenan boys.”
“Do you all get along now?”
“For the most part. It’s an interesting relationship.”
Dawson slowed as he approached a large handsome log cabin house. Barns and outbuildings flanked the house with more fences and corrals.
“Looks like Eliza and Marshall are already here,” Sage said. “Let’s go introduce you to Callan and Court.”
“Is Callan the one doing all the cooking?” Whitney asked, as Sage pulled a covered casserole and pie from the back of the cab.
Sage laughed. “No. Or we’d be eating frozen waffles for dinner.”
*
Happily the house didn’t smell like waffles. It smelled like turkey and stuffing and candied sweet potatoes and Whitney’s mouth watered.
“It looks like we still have an hour,” Callan said, after the introductions. “Why don’t we grab our wine glasses and sit down? Whitney, I understand you work for Cormac?”
