Before the Leap: An Inspirational Western Romance (Gold Valley Romance Book 1)

by Liz Isaacson

  Isn’t that just like Jace not to know I’d come home? she thought as she faced the winter storm. Indignation filled her, marred by a tiny part of her that simply felt wounded. Sure, she and Jace weren’t going to text and hang out, but she considered him a friend. Maybe not a close one, or one she actually wanted to spend much time with, but at least someone who should’ve known she’d come back.

  As she drove along the sloppy ruts in the road toward civilization, she remembered that she hadn’t seen him at all either. Not at church, though she’d only gone once and sat in the balcony so she could escape quicker. Not in town. Nowhere. Landon had told her he was the foreman now, so maybe that kept him busier than she would have thought.

  Please help me get this job. Her fingers turned white from her death grip on the steering wheel, and a rush of fear made her wish she could recall her poisoned words about Jace’s beard. Even if he did oil it, she shouldn’t have said so—not if she wanted to get the job. She turned back onto the paved, snow-plowed highway and headed for the town of Gold Valley, her mind churning.

  Maybe she should go back. Apologize about the beard comment. Her mouth turned dry at the thought of maybe tracing her fingertips along Jace’s jaw…. Her phone chimed as she made it out of the canyon. Six texts from her new supervisor at the design firm had come in at the same time. She realized she didn’t have cell service in the canyon or up at the ranch, and hurried to call him back.

  “Hey, Calvin,” she said when he answered.

  “Where have you been? The samples for the Montgomery cabin came in, and I need you here.”

  “You sent me out to Horseshoe Home Ranch.” The saucy side of Belle almost added, “Remember?” but she managed to swallow the word back before it came out. She would’ve said it to Jace, but Calvin was as far from Jace as someone could get. He wouldn’t appreciate it—but he didn’t have the authority to cut her loose because of it.

  “Oh, right.” Shuffling came through the line, and Belle suspected his attention had already shifted to something else. “How did it go?”

  “Great,” Belle said, hoping she wasn’t fibbing. “He said I’d know soon.”

  “I hope so,” Calvin said. “You need to book a client.”

  I know, she wanted to scream. Calvin had made his opinion of her very clear, and he wasn’t impressed. She came with no loyal clients, no prospects, no accounts, and hardly any experience. A year in the Sacramento firm, where she’d basically been an intern to the top designer there, hadn’t exactly catapulted her career.

  “I feel good about it.” Her voice sounded false and too bright to her own ears.

  “Feeling good about something doesn’t mean much.”

  “I’ll be back to the office in a few minutes.” One glance at the clock on her dashboard told her she should’ve finished work fifteen minutes ago. But when Calvin called….

  “No need,” he said. “We’ll go over these samples first thing in the morning. Don’t forget my coffee.” He hung up before Belle could confirm.

  Steam practically leaked from her ears. She was his colleague, not his secretary. She paid for her own desk space, same as he did. He brought in more money to the conglomerate, sure. But that didn’t mean she had to bring him coffee. In fact, he’d “asked” her several times to bring him a cappuccino, and each time she’d “forgotten.”

  She’d “forget” tomorrow too, even though her forgetfulness probably lowered his opinion of her. “Can’t get much lower,” she muttered to herself as she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the horseshoe-shaped waterfalls. Past them, she finally saw the outskirts of town ahead.

  Belle didn’t care. She wasn’t going to take the guy coffee. She’d land the account at Horseshoe Home, and start saving to open her own design company. She knew she was a good designer—better than anyone else in Gold Valley. She’d signed on with the design firm for legitimacy, to have a name to put on her business cards, but she dreamed of having her name speak for itself, her own name on her stationery, on the side of a building.

  She prayed again for help from the Lord as the desperation to accomplish all she hoped to do crowded her lungs and made her gasp for air.

  2

  The next morning, Belle arrived before Calvin, as usual. Didn’t matter. The owner of Crescent Moon, the one and only design firm in Gold Valley, didn’t show up until after noon. So the owner never knew who arrived first to work—though in the past two weeks, Belle had beaten everybody through the front door.

  Calvin walked in just after nine, saw her at her desk, and frowned. Like he usually did.

  “Morning, Calvin,” she chirped from behind her laptop. “I waited to go through the samples with you. Meanwhile, I found a hotel on the east side of town that’s looking for a remodel. I’m just finishing my proposal for them.”

  He harrumphed, noticed the lack of coffee, and his frown lines deepened. “Did you forget something this morning?”

  Belle made a show of checking her desk, even tipping her laptop down as she attempted to look as confused as possible. “I don’t think so….” She reached for her travel mug of decaf and took a sip. “Did you?”

  A silent battle of wills ensued, which ended when Calvin sighed and headed for the largest storage room, where the samples waited. Satisfied and victorious, Belle got up to follow him. They spoke about the Montgomery cabin, the design desired by the owner, and the practicality of some of the items they’d ordered.

  Belle fingered the edge of a high-end curtain, her mind wandering to what her own home would look like one day. In Sacramento, she’d been building her dream home—well, apartment—one small room at a time. She’d had the entryway perfect, with an engineered hardwood in a dark oak color, a custom runner from the best rug-maker out of Phoenix, and an antique buffet that functioned as a side table for her décor, keys, and unopened mail.

  She’d brought what she could from her apartment, but the perfect view and ideal layout couldn’t be replicated in her childhood home despite it being five times larger. The very thought of going back to that house, alone, tonight made Belle consider sleeping at the office.

  The youngest of three children, Belle had moved to Cal-State immediately upon graduation and got a jump-start on her interior design degree. She hadn’t been at the top of her class, but was good enough to land a position at the prestigious design firm of Spencer Stallings.

  She sighed, which earned her a glance from Calvin. “Everything okay with that granite?”

  “I think it’s too dark,” she said, forcing herself to focus on the here-and-now instead of the what-could’ve-been-if-she-hadn’t-been-wronged. She’d made peace with it. Almost.

  “It’s almost metallic,” she added. “I think Rayanne would like something with more gray shades, maybe a marbled effect.” She’d met with the client, had taken copious notes about her likes and dislikes, her vision for the cabin. But Belle’s real intuition came simply from talking with a person, looking at what they already had hanging on their walls, and asking them about their life. No, Rayanne definitely wouldn’t like the glittering, dark granite.

  “Well, see what George has.”

  Belle nodded and they moved on to backsplash tiles for the kitchens, the bathrooms, the indoor hot tub. Working on one cabin in the exclusive community on the mountainside certainly wasn’t going to help Belle’s fantasies of someday being able to afford a place like that, a place she could decorate however she wanted.

  The work day ended without a call from Jace. Belle tasted bitterness on the back of her tongue. Landon had told her they needed to hire a designer quickly. Belle couldn’t believe eight designers had put in for the job in the short timeframe. She’d only found out about it on Friday afternoon, rushed through her proposal so she could be on the interview list for yesterday. She supposed in Gold Valley, the independent designer had to constantly have her ear to the ground.

  And now Jace hadn’t called. How long would he take to make a decision?

  She’d
grown up with the Lovell boys, knew all about them. They’d both grown into quiet, strong men, who worked the ranch where their daddy raised them. As she turned into her parents’ driveway and opened the garage, Belle wondered if Jace ever dreamed of doing something different, living somewhere else, starting over.

  “Probably not,” she told the empty house as she entered it. He was the type who did what he wanted, thought for himself. If he’d wanted to leave Gold Valley, he would have.

  Her phone rang as she heated a frozen dinner for one in the microwave. She glanced at the screen and saw Jace’s name. Her appetite vanished; her stomach swooped; her heart hammered.

  “Hey, Jace,” she said after swiping to connect the call.

  “Belle.”

  She closed her eyes and conjured up his handsome face with that square jaw and straight nose. She could admit she’d thought about what his hair and beard would feel like between her fingers, against her lips. After all, Jace Lovell was a ten in the looks department.

  “You gonna say anything?” she asked. “Or just breathe through the line all night?”

  “You sure don’t make things easy, do you?”

  “Easy for who?”

  “Look, if we’re gonna work together, you can’t argue with me about everything.” His words punched the air right out of her lungs.

  “Work together?” she managed to rasp. “Are you offering me the job?” She hadn’t dared to hope. She knew how dangerous and hard hope was to recover if lost.

  “Against my better judgment, I am. You’re the best designer who applied.”

  “Then why is hiring me against your better judgment?” She cocked her hip like he stood there and could see her.

  “Because you make my blood boil just by lookin’ at me.”

  “I can’t help it if you have a funny face.”

  “See? It’s that kind of smack-talk you can’t do. I just want the renovation to go quickly and be easy. Can you do that or not?”

  “Quick and easy?” Disbelief coated her words. “I don’t think I’ve ever done anything quick and easy.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Belle exhaled. “You know you set my blood on fire too, right? Of course it’s not a threat. I was just saying that if you’re going to get the best cowboy cabins, the most beautiful lodge, and the most functional barns and stables, it won’t happen quickly or easily. It takes a lot of work and a lot of time.”

  He sighed like someone had punctured his lungs with a sharp object and the air was slowly hissing out. “And you’re gonna do all this work?”

  “Absolutely.”

  A pause came through the line. It lasted so long, Belle thought she’d lost him. Even checked to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected. It hadn’t.

  “You think you can work with me, Belle? I promise I’ll be…nice.”

  Something softened inside Belle at the vulnerability she heard in his voice. “Jace, you’re always nice.”

  “Am I?”

  “It’s just banter. I like you fine. And I can work with you, no problem.” A horrible thought crossed her mind. “Can you work with me? I’d hate for you to have boiling blood all the time.” She covered her own insecurity about being likeable with sarcasm, as she usually did.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Great. So will I.”

  “So it’s a deal. I’ll need you to come out to the ranch and sign some papers.”

  “What’s the weather like tomorrow?”

  “Supposed to storm all day.”

  Belle thought of her two-seater convertible she’d bought her second summer in California. “Maybe I’ll wait—”

  “So I’ll see you tomorrow. Say, eleven o’clock?” He hung up before she could confirm or deny.

  A knife of hot annoyance stabbed her right between her ribs. “That Jace Lovell,” she muttered as she nearly slammed her phone down onto the ugly laminate countertop. She sensed a pattern of one-upmanship starting. She’d need to put a stop to that, and throwing him an insult as she walked out yesterday had been a very bad idea.

  She’d make it up to him. A smile curved her lips as a plan formed in her mind. She was determined not to repeat the mistakes she’d made in Sacramento. She’d started by not letting Calvin treat her like a secretary. Now that she’d landed her first solo account, she wouldn’t let anything or anyone get in her way of delivering exactly what the client wanted. And that started with sweetening up Jace a little.

  Jace glanced toward his open office door when the scent of cinnamon met his nose. No one had authorized cooking in the kitchen today and the cowhands didn’t generally season with cinnamon anyhow.

  He went back to work—the third day in a row behind walls. He’d find out where the scent came from soon enough. He always did. As the foreman, nothing happened on the ranch without his eventual knowledge.

  A few minutes later, a light knock sounded on his door and Belle stepped into his office. He’d been expecting her, but not for another fifteen minutes. The sight of her tall, curvy frame standing in his doorway rendered him breathless. He commanded himself to put on his usual mask, his protection the past six months since Wendy had left him looking the fool at his own wedding.

  He noticed Belle’s laughing eyes, the waves she’d added to her hair, the slim cut of her skirt and blouse. He startled again. When had he started looking at Belle like that? Never, he told himself. You’ve never seen her like that.

  Mature and happy, she wore her success well. It made her beautiful and bright, like a new penny.

  She beamed at him, and against his will, he smiled back. “Mornin’. You make it out here all right?”

  “Obviously I did.” She moved into his office and held a plate toward him. “I came armed with your favorite.” She set the plate on his desk. “Oatmeal with dark chocolate chips.”

  He looked at the cookies like they might grow legs and attack. When they didn’t, he glanced back at her. “How did you know?”

  She fell into the chair opposite him. “I have my ways.”

  “You called Tom.”

  “Nope.” She grinned. “Landon.”

  “Traitor,” Jace said under his breath. “He told you about the job, too, right?”

  “Yes.” Her smile faded. “You said I was the best applicant. You’re not mad he told me, are you?”

  Jace couldn’t say he was, because the truth was exactly the opposite. His heart pumped out an extra beat, and that angered him. “No,” he said stiffly. He wasn’t dating right now, maybe never again. He didn’t want Belle to know about the fiasco with Wendy—she wasn’t here when it happened and possibly hadn’t heard yet.

  Yet, his mind whispered. And in a town the size of Gold Valley, she’d find out. He might as well be the one to tell her. Still he sat silently drinking in the beautiful woman before him and trying to make sense of his jumbled emotions while controlling his raging hormones.

  He’d never felt anything but frustration and fury with Belle Edmunds. How had that changed?

  “So.” He cleared his throat and nearly knocked the paperwork to the floor in his haste to grab it. “I need you to sign this. We have a budget of seven-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars, firm. We need the fourteen cabins redone, this building, and the three stables and attached barns.” He slid the folder toward her, glad his fingers had something constructive to do. When he’d spoken with Gloria yesterday, she’d laughed when he’d asked if she was preparing to sell Horseshoe Home Ranch.

  “Of course not.” Her tinkling giggle still rang in Jace’s ears. “It’s been forty years since we’ve done anything to this place.” She cocked her head at him. “We’re just updating, Jace.”

  Just updating. His relief had been strong and overwhelming.

  “Jace?”

  He blinked at Belle. “I’m sorry, what?”

  She blinked back at him. “Seven-hundred-fifty-thousand?”

  He cleared his throat. “That’s firm,” he repeated. “Not a penny more. I’ll be chec
king everything with the help of our accountant.” When she continued gaping at him, he asked, “Is that enough?”

  That snapped her into motion. She grabbed the pen. “It’s plenty. Thanks.” She flashed him a brilliant smile that punched holes in his plan to stay away from women. Desire for Belle poured through him, leaving him all together confused and slow-witted.

  She flipped pages and signed her name where he’d marked the lines with little flags. “This says you’re hiring Crescent Moon,” she said, glancing up.

  “That’s right,” he said, relieved that his voice stayed even. “You’re the contact there, but we’re basically hiring your firm. You know, to basically vouch for you in case you….” He waved his hand in a nonchalant gesture. “Mess up.”

  “I’m not going to mess up.” Her jaw worked and her eyes blazed with green fire.

  Jace leaned forward, hoping to avoid getting burned by the wrath he saw in her gaze. “I didn’t say you will. It’s a standard contract. That’s why you work for a firm, isn’t it?”

  She deflated as quickly as she’d fired up. “Yes, of course.” She signed her name for a final time and slapped the folder closed.

  Jace took it and slid it in his desk drawer. “Great.” He stood. “You want to stay for lunch? Landon said Miss Gloria is bringin’ down a pot of chili for everyone.”

  Belle’s grin nearly took his legs out from under him. “I’ve never met a chili I didn’t like.”

  He chuckled and waited for her to exit the office before him. It was a gentlemanly gesture, he told himself. Definitely not so he could walk in her wake and breathe in the tantalizing scent of her perfume. Definitely not because of that.

  Tom opened the door, nearly losing it to the wicked wind. “Come in, come in,” he called.

  Jace wasted no time stepping through the door. Tom wrestled it closed and set the locks. “You might be sleepin’ here,” he said. “That storm’s turned nasty.”