by Zoe Dawson
“I know. It makes me sad. I love living here, but that town needs some serious help. Trinity has been doing a great job though, but it’s hard to attract new businesses when it looks so shabby. There are a lot of ranches for sale in the area. I saw this one place over on Granger Road. It’s beautiful. I hope someone other than my father sees it and buys it first.”
“Your father?”
“Yes, Michael Cavanaugh. He owns Tip Top Mountain Ski Resort not far from here.”
Michael Cavanaugh. That was bad news. Rafferty fought not to react. She didn’t want Clem to make the connection between her father and Michael Cavanaugh. They were huge rivals. It wouldn’t be good if he found out she was in town. He would know exactly what she was up to. “What does he want the land for?”
“He’s interested in expanding, and if you ask me, he has designs on Laurel Falls.”
“Why do you say that?”
“My father and I don’t get along. Let me make that clear. We are practically estranged. If it wasn’t for the fact that I have an amazing uncle, Tripp Cavanaugh, I wouldn’t see him at all. But my uncle wants me to be involved, and I can’t do that without seeing my dad. He’s always had this vision of an Aspen-like village, and I think he wants Laurel Falls.”
“Would that be a bad thing for the locals?”
“I think so. These are hardy, working types. An upscale town doesn’t really fit in here, but my father is ruthless when it comes to what he wants and he doesn’t hold back.”
Rafferty was quite aware of her father’s practices. The uncle was a safer topic. “What does your uncle do?”
“He’s ski patrol. He got out of the navy just two years ago, and he fell in love with Montana when he visited my father, who spends a lot of time here when he’s not in New York.”
Clem got up and walked over to a grand piano covered in pictures. She plucked one up and set it down on the table.
She recognized Michael Cavanaugh right away, a handsome silver fox with brown eyes in an Armani suit, and a striking dark-haired man with a killer smile and blue eyes. He was in a denim shirt, dog tags around his neck.
“That’s my uncle, Tripp,” she said, pointing to the dark-haired man.
“Very handsome.”
“He is, and so wonderful, kind, and gentle. So very different from my father.”
Rafferty stayed silent. She wanted to respond, but it was too risky. “Hopefully the town will pull together. It’s impressive how they are working so closely on homecoming. Who’s on the town council, anyway?”
“There’s Hannibal Carson. He owns the hugest spread around here. Henry at the general store, Moose who owns the feed and grain store, and Chet who owns the diner.”
“All men?”
“Yes, except for the mayor who handles them with ease. She’s a pistol.”
“I bet. She has a strong sense of community.”
“Yes, that’s one thing about this town—community. It really means something in Laurel Falls and is not just a word that they banter around. It happens organically due to the everyday interaction over and over. It breeds a familiarity and isn’t surprising why most people say that everyone knows everyone else in small towns. They pitch in when needed, take care of the people around them. I know Trace Black, for instance, handles a lot of the older folks’ car problems by couching it in a friendly visit. They know why he’s there and he knows why he’s there, but they accept it and repay him in food, and it gives him what he craves.”
“The community?”
“Exactly.” Clem eyed her. “I couldn’t help seeing the way he was looking at you. He’s a very attractive man.”
Rafferty just barely held back a large sigh. “Yes, he is.” She kept her face neutral, and Clem laughed.
“That’s how you’re going to play it?”
“Play what?” Rafferty said with wide, innocent eyes. “If he’s so attractive, what’s holding you back?”
“He’s not my type, but you sly dog. You’ve been staring back.”
“Taking the fifth. Besides, Clem, I’m only here until he fixes my car. What exactly is your type?”
“Really? Okay, if you say so. He’s on the council, too, by the way.”
For some reason that wasn’t what Rafferty wanted to hear. She didn’t want to mix business and…oh, man…pleasure with Trace—if she decided that was a good idea, and she still wasn’t convinced.
Suddenly, Clem craned her neck to look out her front window. “Who could that be?”
A muddy red pickup truck pulled into her driveway. “I’ve got to be going, anyway. Thank you for the tour, the bee information, and the conversation.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure. It’s too bad you’re not staying. I think we could be great friends. The kind that last forever.”
“I think so, too.”
Clem hugged her and they walked to the front door, both grabbing their coats. As she opened the door, a man stepped out of the truck, and Clem froze with a soft gasp. Rafferty could see why. He had long, straight silky black hair that hit the middle of his back, his Native American heritage written in his high cheekbones, his dark, compelling eyes, and a very sensual mouth. He was casually dressed in jeans, a red shirt that only set off his dark complexion, and a denim jacket that stretched across his broad shoulders.
He started forward, his voice deep and captivating. “Dr. Clementine Cavanaugh?”
“Yes,” she said from the doorstep. He steadily approached and as he closed the distance, the view just got better.
“I’m Dr. Morgan Fighting Hawk. I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time?”
“How can I help you?”
“I’m an environmental historian with U of M, and I’m doing a paper on honeybees in the area. I’m looking at patterns of agriculture in places that are changing, with a focus on industrial agriculture and how it can be as hostile to bees as urban development. I would like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, I could talk for hours about bees, Dr. Fighting Hawk.”
He smiled. “Call me Morgan.”
“All right, if you will call me Clem. Everyone does. Let me walk my friend, Rafferty Hamilton, by the way, to her car and I have about an hour. Would that do?”
His eyes warmed and he nodded briefly at Rafferty. “Nice to meet you, and that would be perfect, Clem.”
Clem nudged Rafferty forward and they walked to her car. Rafferty got inside and gave Clem a look. “Poor you. Gotta spend an hour with him talking about bees. What a hardship.” She dropped her voice an octave and said in a breathy voice, “ ‘Oh, I could talk for hours about bees, Dr. Fighting Hawk.’ ”
Clem laughed. She was such an adorable person, so nerdy and so cute. “Yeah, if you want to know my type. Ooh la la. You’re looking at him, honey.”
After she got back onto the highway, she realized that things had changed. Her time was running out now that there was competition for the land. Yet, would it be prudent to jump into a purchase without really thinking everything through? She made the decision to put off both a call to her father and a decision for just a bit longer.
Chapter 11
Two days later, the morning dawned bright and clear, and Rafferty had already played two games of checkers with Moose and won, thank you very much, done the shopping for Eden, and continued to waffle about what she should do about that damn land. The fact that Michael Cavanaugh was involved in Laurel Falls made her scowl. She’d broken down and called her father. He had urged her to come up with a final decision on the land, but Rafferty was still not sure.
She also had a hard time sleeping, wondering if Trace had second thoughts about them. She hadn’t heard a word from him. She wasn’t sure if that was deliberate or not. He was more than she wanted to handle right now, but she already felt in deep with him in such a short period of time. She made the decision to send Greg packing and then go have a talk with Trace.
She was in her room, waiting for Greg to get r
eady for breakfast, when she heard a commotion outside and got up to look out the window. There were several kids out front that were giving Anzu a hard time.
Without even thinking about it, she rushed out of the house. She said, “Hey, what is going on down here?”
The two boys and one girl scattered. Anzu leaned against the side of the building, her hands loose at her sides, her eyes indifferent, but masking a secret torment. No matter who you were, there was the need to fit in. It was human nature to want people to understand you, to feel part of the group. It was even more important as a teenager than any other time in life. Rafferty was well aware that with maturity came a better understanding that high school was just four years of transition. That it wasn’t the end of the world. There was life after high school.
“What happened?”
“What usually happens. They called me a freak. Nobody wanted me, blah, blah, blah.”
“A freak. Seriously? In what way?”
“My eyes. They like to pick at how my eyes are different and the way I dress. The way I streak my hair. I don’t fit in here. I never have.”
“Why is that?”
She shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know.”
“Could it be because you’ve made the decision that you don’t fit in here, and it’s a case of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”
“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what do you mean?” she said sullenly.
Rafferty leaned back against the small porch railing. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I think you like it to be said straight out and plain.” She’d looked down again and Rafferty bent her knees and tilted her head. When Anzu looked up, Rafferty continued. “I mean that you feel uncomfortable with who you are, and that’s translated into making yourself so different that everyone also sees you like that.”
She was quiet. “I am different.”
“In what way?”
“I’m Japanese with a white mom. Just by virtue of my culture. I was adopted. That’s also strange to some people. People don’t understand it at first. They look at me differently. I see it in their faces.”
“Maybe they’re just curious, and it’s your perception that’s causing you to see it that way?”
Anzu was quiet for a while. “I never thought about it that way.”
“I get it. But don’t buy in to how they view you. Just be you.”
She stiffened and folded her arms, anger flaring in her eyes. “What do you know about it? You’re beautiful and accomplished, wealthy. What problems do you have?”
Rafferty chuckled and shook her head. “I have plenty of problems, Anzu. My marriage ended because I made a bad choice based on my own preconceived notions about what was right for me. I didn’t fit into my school because I was wealthy and viewed a certain way. It was hard to make friends, especially real, genuine friends. Friends who didn’t want to use me, ride the status train, or reap some other reward. It’s still hard to make friends.”
Startled, she looked to the group of kids gathering for the bus. “You had a hard time making friends?” she said skeptically, and Rafferty noticed two girls wave to her, but Anzu was oblivious.
“Yes. I did. I didn’t go through a whole lot of gyrations to make myself different. I just was.”
Anzu picked up her backpack and they started down the walk. “What did you do about it?”
Rafferty smiled. “I got rid of all my bullshit and made sure that everyone I interacted with knew me. The real me, without pretention or masks or any of that. Being yourself with all your faults and hang-ups is real. People like that. No one really wants or likes perfect because it’s not really attainable for anyone. We’re all just pretending. Right?”
Anzu stopped and faced her, a glint of admiration in her eyes. “You think you’re pretty smart. Don’t you?”
Rafferty brushed back a lock of her purple-streaked hair. She was beginning to love this kid. “I have wisdom, Anzu. That’s different. I’ve lived it and believe me, if I can make one minute of high school better for you by being honest about myself, I’m an open book.”
Seeing the change in Anzu’s eyes, the determination made her heart sing. “Exactly how did you do that?”
She hooked her arm around the girl’s neck and whispered, “I tried to find some common ground. Tried to get over myself.”
That made Anzu smile, exactly like Rafferty hoped.
She laughed then and shoved her. “You’re a dork.”
Rafferty giggled. “Actually, I am.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“For instance, I see that you have sci-fi posters up on your wall. Which means you enjoy space stuff. I believe in alien abductions.”
“Get out.” Anzu’s eyes widened. “Area 51?”
“So real.”
“Ha! Me, too.” Rafferty lifted her hand and Anzu high-fived her.
“And, they think girls don’t like sci-fi. I like things that are considered by some people to be traditionally feminine, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I like shopping. I like chick lit books. I like romance. I like puppies and rainbows. But, I also love science fiction. I love Star Wars, The X-Files, space opera novels. I love space exploration and NASA and all the amazing stuff that goes on there. It’s the challenge of the unknown, strong female characters, the hope that we’re not alone.”
“Love all that and The X-Files rock.”
Rafferty heard the grinding gears of the bus, then it stopped to pick up the middle school kids waiting. They piled on, the noise level increasing for a few minutes. Then the bus closed its doors and roared off. “I like the existential matters of all life that may or may not exist. The sheer imagination of it all.”
“There you go, Anzu. We just found common ground. One simple comment and we just spent ten minutes connecting. You should try that with your amazing artwork you’ve shown me. You really are very talented. Your fantasy men, by the way, are very hot, and girls love that.” Rafferty winked.
Anzu snickered. “My graphic novel? You think that people would be interested in that?”
“Yes. Of course. Put yourself out there. I think you’ll find that the right kind of people will respond.”
Anzu smiled. “Who says that grown-ups are dumb?”
“Yeah, who says?” Rafferty said, and they both laughed. “Why you up so early?”
“I wanted to see Harley before school.”
“Oh, you doing okay with that?”
“Yes. He needs his friends more now than ever.”
Rafferty grabbed her around the neck and squeezed her hard as Greg came out of the house. “Who says kids are dumb?” Anzu awkwardly wrapped her arm around Rafferty’s waist and squeezed, too. “Go before you run out of time. I’m eating breakfast with Greg. Have a good time.”
Anzu thought about what Rafferty said all the way over to Black’s. When she entered the garage, Trace looked up, and the expectant look on his face told her that he was searching for someone specific, and Anzu suspected it was Rafferty.
“Sorry, I’m not her.”
“Who?”
“Like you can hide it. Rafferty. She’s across the street with her friend.” Anzu pointed and Trace leaned around the car he was under. His mouth tightened when he saw her wrap her arms around that guy who had city slicker written all over him.
“What’s up, kid?” he grumbled, his eyes still glued to them as they parted and then entered the diner.
“I wanted to see if Harley would like to go for a quick walk. I know he’ll move slowly, but it would be good for him to get out of the house.”
Trace straightened away from the car and said, “You sure you’re up for that?”
“Yes. I’m his friend, no matter what.”
“No matter what, huh?”
“Yes, and keeping him cooped up in the house isn’t good for him. He needs—”
“I agree.”
“—exercise and fresh air.”
“I said I agree.”
“
Oh, what changed your mind?” He glanced across the street with a pensive look on his face.
“An opinionated, sassy blonde.”
“She has a way of doing that,” Anzu murmured.
“Go ahead and hurry up before you’re late for school. Your mom will have my butt in a sling.”
Anzu headed up to the house. As she entered the kitchen, she could smell the aroma of maple syrup.
“Hey, Anzu,” Cadie said as she entered the room. “You here to see Harley?”
“Sure am. Is he up?”
“I’ll get him.”
She left the room. She liked Cadie, but they didn’t mix much in high school. Cadie was a senior, popular, and a cheerleader. Anzu drifted over to the plate of pancakes. “Hey there, Anzu. How’s your mom?” Reese said, entering the kitchen.
“She’s good.” He was so nice, always asking about her mom, helping out when her mom needed it. Their families were very close and she really liked that.
“Help yourself,” he said, looking handsome. Harley and his brothers were definitely her inspirations for her steampunk heroes. His stories about smoke jumping and firefighting gave her the idea for the captain of her agency.
Reese said, “Morning, brother,” as Harley shuffled into the kitchen. “Have a good day.” Reese left. Harley looked much more subdued than he’d been the day he had his terrible combat flashback.
He smiled slightly when he saw her. “Hi, Anzu. I didn’t think you’d come back. I thought I scared you off.”
“No. That would never happen. My mom made me wait. She thought you might need the time.”
Cadie set a plate of pancakes and some milk in front of Harley. “Why don’t you sit, Anzu? Would you like milk with your pancakes?”
“No, thank you,” she said to Cadie and turned to Harley. “I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk. It’s nice out. Getting cold, winter will be here soon.
He shook his head. “I’m not up for that yet, Anzu. You have time to have breakfast with me?”
“Yes, I don’t have to catch the bus for a while yet.”
