At Wild Rose Cottage

by Callie Endicott

  Emily’s confusion subsided. It made sense that he wanted to be thorough.

  “Good idea.”

  “This one is on the house,” he said with a grin, “unless you want solid-gold knobs and eighteenth-century mahogany paneling.”

  “Don’t be silly. Just give me an estimate.”

  “We can debate it later. Let’s go down and see what might work.”

  In the gloomy space he measured the size and then turned to her. “Do you want a hobby room, an extra bedroom or a well-designed storage area?”

  Emily looked around. The basement was large, though support beams broke up the area. She almost said to forget it, but the house seemed to whisper finish me.

  “If I was planning for a family,” she murmured, “I might say to put in one of those man-caves they talk about in house-hunting programs.”

  “It should be what you want.”

  “Then let’s do it mostly as storage and still put in the man-cave thing,” she said, wanting to get upstairs. For some reason the low light seemed too intimate for comfort. “You’re right that I should consider future salability, and I can always use it as a woman-cave.”

  Trent’s smile suddenly seemed pained for some reason.

  “Storage and a woman-cave it is,” he said. “Now, do you want to help install the hardwood flooring in the attic? That’s one skill you haven’t mastered yet.”

  “Okay.” Puzzled, Emily headed up the stairs. Trent had consistently discouraged her helping on projects, though he hadn’t ordered his crew to do the same. Now he was inviting her to work with him?

  He first showed her how the tongue and groove boards fit together, even handing her the mallet to tap the next piece firmly into its place.

  Running a finger over the smooth fit, Emily grinned. “This is neat.”

  “Sure is.” He leaned close while he pulled the next length out and she swallowed, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles as he brushed against her.

  “Hey, Em, boss, are you up there?” Eduardo called from the second floor, interrupting them. “We knocked, but nobody answered.”

  “We’re both here.” Trent straightened. He glanced at Emily. “Shall we take a break and have coffee with the guys?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  The entire day was like that. The rest of the crew worked on the second floor, but Trent urged her to stay close, helping install the new flooring. When the lengths he’d already cut had been used, he plugged in the small table saw he’d brought up and measured the next board.

  “Want to give it a shot?” he asked.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She stood in front of the saw and reached out, trying to emulate the moves she’d seen Trent make a thousand times over the past weeks. But then he put his arms around her and laid his hand over hers.

  “I don’t want to take a chance that there’ll be an accident,” he said softly. “Is this okay?”

  She nodded mutely and he turned on the saw. They cut an entire stack that way, leaving Emily pulsing with more than the saw’s powerful vibrations. He was aroused as well, and didn’t try to hide it from her, but she didn’t think it meant anything other than a guy being a guy.

  When the crew left for the day, Trent stayed behind as usual, but didn’t go off to work on his own. Instead, he sat at the card table in the breakfast nook.

  “Shall we go over ideas for the basement?” he asked.

  His smile was friendly and the warm glint in his eyes had to be her imagination.

  * * *

  MIKE SHOWERED FAST and dressed for an early dinner with Alaina. They were driving to a nearby town where there’d be fewer people they knew to come over and visit...curiosity burning in their faces.

  When she opened her door, he let out a wolf whistle.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “You’d make a burlap sack look good, but that black number is ruthless on a man’s blood pressure.”

  She smiled mischievously and he knew he was in deep trouble. There was no longer any question that he wanted to spend his life with Alaina Hawkins. But any thought he might have had about a calm family life while teaching school was getting shot to hell. Alaina would keep him on his toes.

  The meal was delicious, but Mike barely noticed as they talked, and he discovered an entrancing streak of whimsy in Alaina that he’d never encountered before. She claimed it was Emily’s influence.

  “Say, is something up with Trent?” he asked as they lingered over coffee and dessert.

  Her eyebrows shot upward. “Other than our family skeletons getting rattled? Not that I’ve noticed. Have you seen something?”

  “It isn’t a big deal, but for one thing, he asked Emily to help him install the hardwood floor in the attic. They worked all day together. Emily has pitched in all along, just not with Trent. So now I’m wondering if he’s interested in her, and I’m not the only one. The rest of the crew is wondering, too.”

  Alaina grinned. “That would be amazing. She’s good for him and he has seemed different lately. Give me details.”

  He described everything he’d noticed, including how Trent had stopped pushing every minute to get finished and had mentioned adding the basement as another project.

  Alaina finally shook her head. “It would be a weird courtship for most people, but who knows with Trent? We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Mike nodded.

  It would make Alaina happy to see her brother fall in love, and her happiness was what mattered most to Mike.

  * * *

  EMILY DIDN’T KNOW what to make of Trent’s behavior. They talked about the basement and he sketched several designs without pressuring her to accept any of them, seeming quite happy to keep suggesting new ones. She was getting hungry when Trent took out his phone and ordered a large pepperoni, mushroom and onion pizza. Her mouth watered.

  “We might as well eat while we work,” he explained after getting off the line.

  Except they didn’t actually work—they talked about house designs in general. Then he invited himself out to Jackson’s ranch with her to meet Stella Luna “properly.”

  “My God, she’s a different animal,” Trent murmured, staring at the calm, playful mare.

  It would be easy to feel smug about it, but Emily knew the transformation had been a joint effort, with both Jackson’s family and his ranch hands playing a big part.

  She expected everything to return to normal the next day, but when Trent arrived in the morning, he told her the crew wouldn’t be there until early afternoon.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but we had an emergency job at the retirement home. Do you want to help paint the corner bedroom upstairs?”

  “I could do that.”

  A while later she was on a ladder, painting around the window frame, when her elbow caught the edge of the pan and paint sloshed onto Trent’s shoulder.

  “Oops,” she said. “Sorry.”

  “It’s artistic,” he said glancing at the way the paint was making long slow drips down his sleeve. “If I don’t smudge it up, it might look deliberate.”

  “I can throw it into the washing machine if you want.”

  “Nope, I’d rather have it this way. More of a fashion statement,” he said with a grin.

  She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand at all.

  That evening Trent ordered her favorite dishes from the Chinese restaurant to eat as they talked, followed by another trip out to the Crazy Horse Ranch. It was the same story, day after day. There were only a couple of afternoons he left when the crew did, saying he needed to do a favor for his brother.

  Inside Emily was trying to prepare herself for the time when the work would be done and she wouldn’t see him so much. His current behavior was making that a challenge.

  On Wedne
sday a couple of weeks later, the crew left early because the plaster work in the basement needed to dry before the next step could be completed.

  “It’s looking good,” Trent told her, sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass of iced tea. Though it was autumn now, the weather had remained warm.

  “Yes. But I wish we’d found more evidence for the DA.” Fun as the secret passageway had been, it really had just opened into the storm cellar and everything else in the basement had been anticlimactic.

  He shrugged. “It was a long shot, but it didn’t hurt to try.”

  “I guess not.”

  Trent drained his glass. “Come on,” he said, jumping to his feet. “Let’s take a ride.”

  Emily figured they were going to the Crazy Horse as usual, but he drove past his brother’s spread and turned after another half mile.

  “Don’t worry, we aren’t trespassing,” Trent said. “The Balderdash belongs to me.”

  “I didn’t think you’d do anything illegal.”

  “And certainly not in the broad daylight with a witness.” He smiled and winked.

  Considering everything, being able to relax and joke about something like that showed he’d begun healing.

  They drove past a collection of ranch buildings and over a rise that looked across a stunning view. The wide sweep of rolling, tree-studded grass with the arching sky above called to her, whispering a welcome.

  Trent pointed. “That’s part of the McGregor ranch, and to the south is Jackson’s place. I wanted the Balderdash when it came up for sale, partly because it was adjacent to their spreads.”

  “So you’re into ranching, too.”

  “Not really. The Balderdash is what Schuyler calls a hobby ranch,” he explained. “It’s enough for me. I’m a builder, but it’s satisfying to run a few cattle and have horses. The existing house and barn aren’t great, so I’m trying to decide where to build a new place. This is my top choice.”

  “I can’t imagine anything better,” Emily agreed. A few clouds floated lazily overhead, casting shadows on the ground. It was so vast and beautiful that she sighed with pleasure.

  “What sort of house do you think would be good here?” he asked.

  “Something that fits into the landscape,” she said, “with lots of windows so you can see in every direction.”

  “How about facing the living room that way?”

  He pointed toward the McGregor ranch.

  She nodded thoughtfully. “I like it, but the hills to the west are special, too.”

  They sat in the truck debating which view properly belonged to the living room, until Trent proposed a round house made of glass.

  “If that’s what rings your bell, go for it.”

  He chuckled.

  Finally they headed over to the Crazy Horse and spent time with Stella Luna before returning to Wild Rose Cottage, where Trent insisted on walking her to the door. He kissed her cheek and hurried back to his truck.

  Emily swallowed. Trent had been dropping quick kisses when he left in the evenings—sometimes on her cheek, more often on her lips. It was always so fast that she didn’t have a chance to react. Even if he was still figuring out how to be friends with her, she wished he’d stop the kisses—they always left her aching for more.

  And it was difficult not to start hoping, because Trent wasn’t treating her like a friend, he was treating her like a woman he loved.

  * * *

  TRENT DROVE TO Wilson’s Jewelry Store for his evening appointment.

  “Good evening, Trent,” Jarvis Wilson greeted as he let him into the back door of the store.

  “Thanks for making a special time for me,” Trent told him. “I want this to stay confidential for the moment.”

  “I understand,” said the old man. “This isn’t the first time a fellow didn’t want the whole town knowing what was going on in his heart.”

  Mr. Wilson unlocked the safe and pulled out a velvet-covered box. “What do you think?” he asked, placing the platinum ring on a black cloth.

  It was one of a kind, just like Emily.

  Trent picked it up. The center sapphire was as intensely blue as the early evening sky, while sapphires in rainbow hues descended on either side. He’d spent hours choosing the gems, wanting something as unique as Emily. The center gem’s Montana origin was sure to delight her.

  His fingers closed over the ring for a brief, fierce moment. It hadn’t been easy finding the patience and self-control to court her, when all he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and lose himself in making love. Yet he also enjoyed their conversations and the quiet moments that came when they were painting or doing something else together. And he might be making progress. Emily didn’t push him away as much, and seemed less wary when he touched her.

  Trent put the ring back on the cloth. “This is just what I wanted,” he told the elderly jeweler. “I’d like to take it with me tonight.”

  “Of course.” Mr. Wilson returned his creation to the velvet-covered box. “Good luck,” he said simply, handing it back.

  Trent put the box in his pocket. He was determined to convince Emily that they were right for each other, and that he would be the luckiest man in creation if she agreed to marry him and have a family together.

  Now he had to find the right moment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ON SATURDAY MORNING Emily brought the last of her belongings upstairs. The day before Eduardo and Vince had moved her mattress to the new master bedroom and she’d slept there for the first time. With the renovations nearly completed, she could go hunting for furniture. While the prospect didn’t energize her the way it had a few months ago, surely that was a temporary condition.

  Once Trent was no longer there every day she’d get her equilibrium back. But for the moment, Saturday stretched long and empty ahead of her.

  She grabbed the phone and dialed. “It’s me,” she said when Alaina answered. “Would you like to go shopping for furniture?”

  “Oh.” Alaina was silent for a moment. “What about your stuff in Los Angeles?”

  “It doesn’t fit here. I’m considering mission style. What do you think?”

  “All for it, but this is Schuyler. Our furniture store is basic, to say the least. You’d have better luck finding what you want in Helena. You should go with Trent. His truck is huge and he can bring back anything you want.”

  Trent...furniture shopping?

  “He’s far too busy,” Emily objected. “You said he’s even behind on signing estimates.”

  “He’s working that out. Why don’t I call and see if he’s free?”

  Emily hesitated. The suggestion was bizarre, but Alaina was so involved with Mike, she probably hadn’t thought about what she was saying. “Maybe another time. Do you want to look at the local store, anyway?”

  “Sure, but let’s have lunch at the Roundup Café first. Around noon?”

  “Sounds good.”

  * * *

  ALAINA HUNG UP the phone and shook her head in amazement.

  “What’s up?” Mike asked.

  “Emily wants to shop for furniture with me.”

  “What about Trent? I doubt he’s into shopping, but he’s into Emily.”

  “I think she still doesn’t get that he’s interested. Or can’t let herself believe it, which works out the same.”

  Mike snorted. “Then she’s the only one who doesn’t get it. The crew is practically stuffing sawdust into their mouths to keep from saying anything.”

  Alaina frowned. “They wouldn’t, would they?”

  “Nah, they’d never embarrass Em.”

  “Good.” Alaina leaned across the bed and kissed him. “I’m counting on you to keep me posted on what’s happening.”

  He tugg
ed her down for a more thorough kiss and she felt his hand on her breast.

  “You have amazing stamina,” she murmured.

  “Athletes usually do,” he said, his fingers teasing her.

  “Mmm.”

  Four hours later, she dragged herself away and met Emily at the Roundup Café.

  “Hey,” she said. “You look as if you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I didn’t—probably just excitement because the house is nearly finished.”

  Alaina doubted that was the reason. She envied Mike’s front-row seat to the strangest courtship in Montana history. And to think she’d never believed her brother would let down his guard enough to fall in love.

  “Are you sure it’s the house?” she asked innocently. “I mean, Trent can be overwhelming and he’s obviously been zeroed in on you lately.”

  Though her cheeks reddened, Emily just shrugged. “I’m probably the first woman he’s had as a friend. He has to get used to it. So, what’s going on with you and Mike?”

  “We’re doing okay.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Emily said with a faint smile. She’d probably guessed where Mike was spending most of his nights.

  Alaina felt her own face go hot. She was having trouble taking the last step with Mike...agreeing to forever.

  The night before Mike had told her he’d wait as long as she needed, but he’d also reminded her that fantasy was usually more prettily polished than reality.

  She knew what he was trying to say.

  All these years she’d had a glowing vision of them together...rather like a wedding photo. But life was what happened after the flowers faded and the wedding dress was turning yellow in the back of the closet.

  For her first parents, life had disintegrated into violence and alcohol and disappointment. Outside of fairy tales, happily-ever-after wasn’t perfect. Even for Parker and Sarah McGregor, things hadn’t always been easy.

  If she married Mike, life would be messy and imperfect. He would be irritable at times, sometimes from the pain in his knee, sometimes for other reasons. She might have trouble getting pregnant the way Jackson’s wife was having trouble... All sorts of things could come along. Still, they’d have each other to help deal with the imperfections, and Mike had promised to put their marriage first as long as she kicked him in the butt if he fell into bad habits.