Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men)

by C. C. Coburn

  Repairing More Than Just A House

  Grace Saunders returns to Spruce Lake, Colorado, to oversee the renovation of a house she’s inherited—and to get away from a bad divorce. She’s not planning to run into her high school sweetheart, Jack O’Malley. She has a secret she’ll give anything to keep, even when it turns out that Jack’s her new contractor.

  Now Jack and Grace have to work together—and work at keeping their hands off each other. Grace is the same girl Jack used to know, the one he never got over. Jack’s grown into a man Grace could fall in love with all over again. And the entire O’Malley clan is rooting for a romantic reunion.

  But should Grace keep her twelve-year-old secret? And if she tells, will Jack ever forgive her?

  “If I’m going to work on this house, you’re going to help me…”

  “What’s up?” Jack asked. “Your face is flushed again.”

  To prevent him from asking any further questions, Grace stuck out her hand and said, “If I agree to your outrageous terms, do we have a deal?”

  What was she saying? She couldn’t get out of town fast enough to prevent Jack from somehow discovering the truth she’d hidden from him for twelve long years. Yet here she was agreeing to stay and help. Still, she really needed to have the house restored before it completely fell to pieces.

  And besides, how hard could it be watching Jack working under the hot sun? Seeing him again, she couldn’t get rid of the notion they had unfinished business.

  She’d kept her secret safe this long, she could keep it to herself a bit longer….

  Dear Reader,

  One of my favorite romance themes is the reunion story. I wonder what it’s like to be reunited with your high school or college sweetheart?

  In Sweet Home Colorado, Jack O’Malley, the last of the O’Malley men to find love, is knocked off his feet when his high school sweetheart, Grace Saunders, returns to Spruce Lake. At first he’s reluctant to have anything to do with Grace, but he soon finds himself under her spell and agreeing to renovate the house she’s inherited from her great-aunt.

  Jack is the one person Grace hopes she won’t run into in Spruce Lake, but—doing a bit of matchmaking—her lawyer employs Jack as the contractor responsible for renovating the old Victorian that now belongs to her.

  Grace has a secret she’s kept from Jack for more than a dozen years, and now her greatest fear is that he’ll discover what it is!

  Did I tell you my other favorite theme was secret babies?

  Find out how Grace and Jack’s relationship develops into love and how they resolve their differences once Jack discovers Grace’s secret.

  This is the fifth and final installment of The O’Malley Men series. I hope you’ve enjoyed seeing the O’Malley brothers fall in love as much as I have.

  I enjoy hearing from readers. You can write to me at cc@cccoburn.com.

  Happy reading and healthy lives!

  C.C. Coburn

  Sweet Home Colorado

  C.C. Coburn

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  C.C. Coburn was born in the heart of Australia’s outback, then moved to its Pacific Coast. She’s traveled the world, lived in England, Austria and the USA and still counts traveling as one of her passions.

  She learned to ski in Austria, then discovered Colorado’s majestic Rocky Mountains and bought a home there. She now divides her time between Australia, Colorado and England, where one of her three children lives. Her other children still call Australia home.

  C.C. shares her life with a beautiful Labrador and a man who, after thirty-two years of marriage, still looks pretty darned good in his kilt.

  Books by C.C. Coburn

  HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

  1283—COLORADO CHRISTMAS

  1309—THE SHERIFF AND THE BABY

  1337—COLORADO COWBOY

  1395—COLORADO FIREMAN

  Many thanks to

  My faithful reader Jan Durkin.

  Talented author and nurse Fiona Lowe.

  Handyman Garth Stroble.

  My wonderful editor, Paula Eykelhof.

  And as always, Keith.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Prologue

  “Jack? Are you still there?”

  Jack O’Malley took a seat on the front steps of the house he’d just finished restoring in Spruce Lake, Colorado. He cradled his cell phone against his shoulder and wiped his brow. It was hot. Damned hot for June. Especially June in the Rockies. “I’m still here, Mike, and the answer’s still no.”

  “C’mon, it’s only an estimate. You’ve got time for that, haven’t you?”

  Jack groaned. It was flattering to be in demand for his services as a contractor who specialized in high-quality home-building and renovation, but one day he’d like to be able to take a holiday. With the way work kept piling up, that wasn’t going to happen any time in the next decade. And now his friend and lawyer, Mike Cochrane, wanted to heap on more work. He’d already turned down the same job late last week, when Mike first contacted him about it. Now Mike was sounding desperate.

  “Like I told you, Jack, my client’s a doctor. And you know how much I need new clients—wealthy ones.”

  Jack gave a snort of disgust. “And like I told you, Mike, the answer’s still no.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Jack. Buddy,” he said, drawing out the last word. “You’re the only person capable of restoring that Victorian on Lincoln.”

  Just as it had last week, Jack’s heart rate kicked up a notch at the mention of the old house. Gracie Saunders, the girl he’d dated in high school, had lived there. Missy Saunders, her great-aunt, had owned the house, but she’d moved to the Twilight Years retirement home a decade ago. The place had been rented out over the years, until it fell into such a state of disrepair no one wanted to live there. Missy had passed away a couple of years back and Jack assumed the house had been sold to the doctor—who’d probably, like too many of Spruce Lake’s second-home owners, use it two weeks a year and leave it vacant for the other fifty.

  He took a long swig of orange juice. “Since when did you start pimping for clients wanting their houses restored?”

  “Since a friend of a friend told this doctor I had contacts here in Spruce Lake. Contacts who were reliable.”

  Jack didn’t miss the inflection in Mike’s voice. If he said no to the estimate, he’d be letting Mike down. Mike had done a lot for the O’Malleys, especially helping Jack’s brother Will foil the development company that had wanted to tear down half the old buildings on Main Street and put up a bunch of condos and a shopping mall. Their plan would’ve destroyed the Victorian-era character of the town. Instead, Will and his supporters had saved the buildings from destruction and Jack had spent the past few years restoring many of them.

  But his next project was building a new home for Adam, his wife, Carly, and their kids. Adam had got land at a bargain-basement price from Will, who’d recently subdivided the ranch he’d bought a dozen years earlier into ranchettes of around ten acres each. The ranchettes had
funded the purchase of buildings on Main Street to save them from destruction.

  Jack couldn’t disappoint Adam and Carly. The house they presently lived in was getting to be way too small for Adam’s growing family. Jack’s youngest brother had married a widow with four children. Then they’d adopted two dogs and a cat from the animal shelter. And now Carly was pregnant.

  “I’d love to restore that beauty to her former grandeur, Mike, but right now I don’t have the time. You know I’m slated to start work on Adam and Carly’s place next.”

  It sure would be nice to renovate the old Victorian, though. The house had stood empty and neglected for too long. Jack scratched the rash on the inside of his elbow, then felt the need to scratch the one behind his knee. He’d have to see a doctor about the damned things pretty soon. Another doctor. That senile old fool Jenkins and his expensive creams hadn’t helped the rashes he’d been plagued with for the past couple of months. In fact, they just kept getting worse. The guy ought to be put out to pasture. “When’s your client going to be here?”

  “Tomorrow. And I’m supposed to have found and employed a contractor by then.”

  “Again, I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on me doing this. I didn’t know lawyers did stuff like that for their clients.”

  “Jack, lawyers would walk barefoot over hot coals for their clients.”

  Jack let out a guffaw of derision. “Yeah, right! Pull the other leg—it plays ‘Jingle Bells.’ What you mean is—so long as they pay you enough, you’d do the hot-coals walk.”

  “I’ve already received a hefty advance for finding the right contractor. Naturally, the doc is now one of my most important clients.”

  “Yeah, he’s probably, apart from me, your only client!”

  He could hear the smile in Mike’s voice. One thing Mike wasn’t short of was clients. Too bad a lot of them failed to pay up. “C’mon, Jack. Gimme a break and get an estimate to me, ASAP?”

  Jack grimaced. He knew what Mike was saying and it wasn’t too far from the truth—his lawyer could do with building up his client base. A paying client base. Too often softhearted Mike ended up footing the bill for his clients. Snaring a doctor, one prepared to send an advance, was a coup.

  Spruce Lake, nestled in the Colorado Rockies, was a ski and summer resort that, until a decade ago, had been a well-kept secret. However, it was now being discovered, and those in the know had been snapping up properties for a good few years. That helped boost the local economy, but Jack wasn’t sure he welcomed the change to his formerly sleepy hometown.

  In Jack’s opinion, Spruce Lake was picture-postcard perfect. Filled with a mixture of old Victorians and more modern homes, its main attraction was an unsurpassed ski mountain during the winter. It also offered myriad summer activities from hiking and bike riding to golfing and white-water rafting, fishing, mine tours and a thriving Main Street market.

  The only problem, according to the Chamber of Commerce, was that the rest of the world had barely heard of the place. Sure, Aspen and Vail were household names for the dedicated skier, celebrity and socialite, but Spruce Lake had yet to be discovered by the glitterati—which suited Jack just fine. Small-town life was what he knew and loved. He didn’t want to live anywhere else, and if this rich doctor client of Mike’s wanted to preserve some of the town’s unique beauty by restoring Missy Saunders’s old Victorian, then he should be willing to help out—a little, anyway.

  “I’ll see what I can do about an estimate, Mike.”

  “Great! I knew I could rely on you, buddy. Can I have it first thing tomorrow?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m serious. This is urgent.”

  Jack sighed. Mike was certainly keen to impress his client. “You seem to forget there’s more than the carpentry to quote on. There’s also, plumbing, electrical, roofing—”

  “Yeah, yeah. A guesstimate will be fine. I just need something!”

  Jack shook his head. Mike wasn’t going to quit nagging until he agreed. “I’ll get it to you by noon. How’s that sound? And listen, it’s just an estimate for comparison purposes. I really don’t have the time to do the work. I’ve made a promise to Adam and Carly.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Listen, I gotta go.” He suddenly cut the connection.

  Jack stared at his cell phone. For someone who claimed he didn’t have enough paying clients, Mike sure was busy. Since moving back to town from a big practice in Colorado Springs, the guy had gotten himself elected to the Chamber of Commerce, so maybe he had some business to attend to there.

  He wasn’t due anywhere for a couple of hours so Jack figured he might as well head over to the house. He wouldn’t need a key to get in—one of the front windows had been smashed recently by some kids on spring break. At the very least, he should board it up against further vandalism.

  Chapter One

  Jack eased his old truck against the curb behind a bright red BMW Z4 parked outside Missy Saunders’s and wished he had the time to work on the house. He hated to see the magnificent old buildings of the former gold-mining town lying unloved and unkept. This home was a particularly fine specimen, built by a miner who’d struck it rich with a huge nugget back in the 1870s. It had passed down through the miner’s family, eventually going to Missy Saunders. Missy was an only child and had never married. Jack guessed it had been sold long ago to pay Missy’s nursing-home fees. The sweet old lady had spent a while at the Twilight Years before passing on. Jack regretted he hadn’t been living in Spruce Lake so he could’ve attended her funeral—especially since his mom had reported that Gracie had made a brief appearance to pay her respects to her great-aunt. He wished he’d seen her then. It might have helped him make up his mind about a few things, maybe get her out of his system once and for all.

  He shook his head to clear it. No point in reminiscing about what might have been. He and Gracie were history. She was never coming back to town; she’d told him as much. He really needed to get over her and move on with his life. His realization that he was still in love with her had helped him decide that he’d never make a priest and he’d left the seminary in L.A. before being ordained. Although there’d been other reasons for leaving, Gracie had been the main one. But she was a married woman and therefore off-limits, so instead he’d channeled his energies into a carpentry apprenticeship, then worked with underprivileged kids helping them learn a trade and life skills. It was rewarding work, but a lonely life nevertheless.

  Since returning to Spruce Lake a couple of years ago, Jack had restored many of the town’s Victorian-era buildings—but none of them had the size and grandeur of Missy Saunders’s place. Still, there were other contractors in the county, whom Mike had probably been sweet-talking all week. Funny that no one else had taken on the project.

  Parked in front of the sports car was his new truck, emblazoned with Jack O’Malley Constructions on the doors. Jack had taken delivery of the Dodge Ram only last week. And he hated it. It was just too new and shiny for him. He preferred his old Ford F150.

  Jack had had Betsy since high school and, before that, she’d been used to run around the family ranch, Two Elk. She had over a million miles on the clock and wasn’t missing a beat. Her seats were worn and comfortable and fitted Jack’s butt like a glove.

  He’d felt like a traitor when he’d taken Betsy down to trade her in on the Dodge. They’d offered peanuts for her, so he’d kept Betsy and bought the Dodge.

  Two days later he gave the Dodge to his foreman, Al Hernandez, to drive. Al was only too happy to use the boss’s truck, with its smell of new leather and its too shiny paintwork. Al had three young boys, and the twin cab arrangement suited his family perfectly.

  Jack had arranged to meet Al at the house, figuring the two of them would get through the assessment twice as fast. He’d blow this doctor off with a ridiculously high estimate and then he’d be able to start on Adam’s place with a clear conscience—and the knowledge that another contractor in town would get the
job. Not that any other contractor would be as good as Jack and his team, but what did this doctor think? That he could snap his fingers and have someone start immediately?

  The door of the sports car opened and a woman stepped out. Her dark hair fell across her face, hiding her features, but Jack didn’t miss the oh-so-long legs and trim figure as she stalked around the front of her sports car and onto the sidewalk.

  She walked with confidence, like a woman used to getting her own way. She, and the car, looked totally out of place in Spruce Lake. Jack’s hometown was more battered SUVs, jeans and cowboy boots—not flashy sports cars, designer dresses and six-inch heels.

  One of those heels wedged itself in a crack in the sidewalk.

  Jack watched as she bent to pull it out, revealing a lot more leg...and the bright red undersides of her shoes.

  He enjoyed the show, wondering who this fish out of water could be visiting in Spruce Lake, because for sure she wasn’t local. Jack would’ve noticed her way before this if she was.

  He could hear her cursing through the open window of his truck. Time to rescue the damsel in distress, he decided as he climbed out and sauntered over to the woman. “Need any help?” he asked.

  She stopped cussing and pulling at her leg long enough to stand up to her full height and look him in the eye.

  Jack felt the sucker punch right to his gut. He’d know those bewitching light brown eyes, that pert nose, those soft full lips, anywhere.

  Gracie.

  She’d lost a good fifteen pounds, had her hair cut and styled and was wearing way too much makeup, but it was her, all right.

  He swallowed and said, “Hi, Gracie.”

  She frowned and said, “Do I know you?”

  Jack felt the sucker punch again as she reminded him how insignificant a part of her life he’d been, in spite of their dating for nearly two years in high school.

  He pulled off his sunglasses and held out his hand. “Jack O’Malley. We dated for a while. Remember?”