by Mary Leo
Travis hurried to finish up, then he plugged the end of the string into the rest of the lights that surrounded Santa’s sleigh. They instantly lit up, assuring him the roof was complete. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get down before she arrived without killing himself, a task that might take some time considering more snow had fallen since he’d first crawled up there. He’d worn a safety harness, and had secured a rope to the ring he’d attached to the roof several years ago, but he sure as heck didn’t want to make use of his precaution, especially now when Bella was only minutes away.
He wished he’d have listened to his dad an hour ago when he’d urged him to come on down before the snow got too thick.
But did he listen?
Not this cowboy.
He knew he had to take his time, but adrenaline shot through his veins as the truck quickly approached. Travis could no more slow down his actions than a young boy could stop himself from opening a gift on Christmas morning. Colt was right. Ever since Bella had moved away he’d been anxiously waiting for her permanent return. She was part of Briggs, Idaho, just like he was, and despite her long absence, he knew deep in her heart she could never settle anywhere else. Nothing could get him to admit any of this, at least not to his two older brothers who would have razzed him without mercy.
“She has her own life in Chicago and I have mine right here. I’m excited to see an old friend, is all,” he said, knowing darn well his brother knew the truth.
Travis took in a deep breath of the crisp air before he slid his butt down the front side of the roof, his tool belt skidding across the snowy gray shingles as he headed for his ladder at the far end. His hands were about frozen despite his wool gloves and if it wasn’t for his new black, genuine beaver cattleman’s hat he surely would have frozen into another roof ornament standing next to Santa.
“Whatever you say, little brother, but that old friend just pulled up to the front curb. You better get your hustle on or you’re going to miss the smile on her pretty little face when she sees the inn all decked out like it used to be.”
“I’m moving as fast as I can, considering all the snow that’s up here,” Travis yelled just as his foot slid out from under him and the only thing that kept him from falling right on his backside was his tight hold on that thick rope.
The sound of small feet running across the wooden porch floor below echoed up to Travis. “Maybe we should’ve brought that old trampoline, Uncle Travis,” Joey, Colt’s youngest boy, called up. He’d jumped off the homestead barn roof onto a trampoline on his fourth birthday. Fortunately, Travis had caught him in midair as he’d taken a leap of faith and the two of them had glided down together.
The trampoline might have been a good idea considering Travis couldn’t seem to keep his footing on the slick roof.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the kind to admit his shortcomings.
“No need,” Travis yelled back. “I’ve got it all under control.” Then he slid another few inches, causing his heart to jump against his chest. His rubber-soled boots took hold on a dry spot on the roof and he let out the breath he’d been holding.
“You best be careful, son,” Dodge, his white-haired father, called up to him. “Or you’ll be sittin’ out Christmas in traction if you fall off that there roof. ’Sides, that girl’s been citified. No tellin’ how she’s gonna react to you, much less her old homestead. Now you get yourself down here in one piece, ya hear?”
“I will,” Travis hollered, as he oh-so-carefully tried to maneuver closer to his ladder at the edge of the roof. And darn it all, he was determined to make it down one rung at a time before she walked into the front door of the three-story inn.
* * *
DREAM WEAVER INN had loomed out in front of Bella for the last mile, giving her ample time to adjust to seeing it again. Despite the tightness she felt in her chest, the lump in her throat, and the tears she rapidly blinked away, she reminded herself the sight of the inn merely represented another business deal.
Nothing more.
At least that was the mantra she repeated in her head.
The inn sat like an anchor at the edge of town with its pitched roof, redbrick chimney, and three stories of Victorian elegance, the absolute perfect inn for TransGlobal Corporation to add to their string of historic inns across the country. She had brokered several inns for TransGlobal during the last year, and it only made sense that her father’s inn would be one of them. And if her father hadn’t insisted that she show up in person with the paperwork, she could’ve had the deal sewn up a month ago. Right now she would have been lying on a Florida beach spending some of her commission on fine hotels, expensive wine and gourmet meals, and celebrating her promotion instead of stuck in her old hometown for the next twenty-four hours.
A town she couldn’t seem to shake out of her memory.
A town that was holding her back from accepting the promotion at the company she worked for in Chicago.
And most of all, a town where the boy she’d crushed on when she was a kid still held a piece of her heart.
Before she’d left Chicago, she and her shrink had discussed how she would get through seeing the inn, her dad and old friends by concentrating on the task at hand: getting her dad’s signature on the bottom line. She’d started seeing a psychologist soon after her mom had died, to help her through the tough times. And recently she’d seen her a few more times to learn some coping skills to deal with seeing her hometown, a place that she still carried a torch for.
Not that she had any intention of acting on those burning feelings.
She knew exactly what she wanted: the corner office at Ewing Inc., which was all but hers. She only needed to complete this million-dollar sale and the CEO position would be hers. Bella was the best man for the job. The board of directors knew it. Her contemporaries knew it. And the retiring CEO knew it. All she had to do now was convince that pesky country heart of hers, a task she’d somewhat accomplished...at least eighty percent of the way. The other twenty percent dripped nostalgia and never wanted to leave Idaho.
She’d come to the conclusion that the less time she spent in Briggs, the better for everyone concerned, especially since it was a week before Christmas, a holiday she’d grown to dislike more than potatoes, and she absolutely loathed potatoes.
Catching an earlier flight into Idaho Falls had been her idea and a good one despite her shrink’s caution against it. That way, she could get the papers signed early in the day and drive out of town that evening before her dad had a chance to invite her to a Christmas gala of some kind, which she knew the town would have plenty.
Renting the four-by-four had been another sound decision, considering the weather. If there was one thing Bella understood after living in Chicago for the past fifteen years, it was how to deal with winter. When she’d looked up the predicted weather conditions in Briggs, she knew instantly that anything less would never give her the traction she needed for the frozen roads. Bella prided herself on always being prepared no matter what the situation.
Pulling her rig up to the curb, she immediately spotted her dad standing on the shoveled sidewalk in front of the hideously decorated inn. She couldn’t believe he still put up that old Santa and reindeer across the roof. She sighed. It would have to come down and be sold or disposed of before TransGlobal Corporation took ownership. If her father couldn’t manage it, well, she’d have to hire someone from town.
A cowboy stood next to giant N-O-E-L letters that she vaguely recognized from her childhood, with a young boy standing next to him, and another older cowboy who looked familiar standing up on the wraparound porch.
Taking a deep, calming breath and slowly letting it out she turned off the ignition, and slid out of the truck, grabbing her briefcase on the passenger seat. Her bag could stay in the truck. She most certainly wouldn’t be spending the night.
“Yo
u’re a mighty fine sight for these sore eyes,” her father said as she quickly walked toward him, careful not to slip on the snow in her new designer boots. She’d hate it if she did something stupid in such an awkward situation.
“Hi, Dad,” she said as she reached out and gave him a quick hug. He still looked ruggedly handsome in his fraying jeans, gray parka and black cowboy boots. He still had that familiar scent of musky spices that she’d always loved on him.
She pulled away almost as soon as her face touched his rough cheek, resisting the urge to linger in his embrace. She’d been video-conferencing him from time to time in the past few years, but she’d only seen him in person four times since she and her mom had left Briggs. Each time it had gotten more and more difficult for her to say goodbye.
“Honey, you remember Dodge Granger,” her dad told her once they parted. She immediately recognized him and memories of him, his ranch, his barn and his sons all came rushing back.
She quickly pushed them aside.
He went to hug her, but, afraid his bear hug would instantly rekindle their friendship she stuck out her leather-clad hand instead. His big, ungloved hand encircled hers and she instantly felt the warmth of his good nature. She missed men like Dodge, genuinely kind and always willing to help. She was certain hugging the man would melt her resolve, like icicles in sunshine.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Granger,” she told him taking a step back, hoping some distance would help.
“No need to be gettin’ so formal, Bella,” he said. “Dodge is just fine.”
His gruff voice surrounded her memories like a warm blanket. She’d always liked being around Dodge. He’d taught her how to rope before she could ride a horse.
“Dodge it is.”
“I’m sure you remember his son Colt,” her dad said.
Colt tipped his hat, and held out a hand. He wore a friendly grin that she was sure could charm a girl right into his bed. He looked nothing like the tall, skinny boy she remembered, a boy who needed to grow into his big ears. He had that sexy cowboy look going on that worked on most women her age. Fortunately, not on her. She’d learned to prefer a man in a tailored suit rather than a man in jeans and cowboy boots.
“Hope the drive over wasn’t too bad,” he said, while standing next to a young boy.
“It was fine, thanks.”
He patted the boy’s head, mussing up his hair, and the child tried to move away from his touch. Colt grabbed him and the boy squealed with delight.
“This ornery little man is my son Joey.”
Joey sucked in his laughter and held out his hand for her. She’d never met a child with real manners. This was a first. She took his small hand in hers. His grip was firm and confidant, better than some executives she’d met.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Biondi,” Joey said while looking into her eyes.
“You, too,” she answered, giving him a quick smile.
Small talk had never been her forte.
She had hoped no one but a few guests would be at the inn. Why the Granger men were there stumped her. She had specifically asked her dad to make sure Travis Granger was nowhere near the inn. So why he thought it was okay for the other Grangers to show up was beyond her imagination.
No way did she want to run into Travis.
Ever.
Under no circumstances.
If her dad hadn’t agreed to keep him away, she wouldn’t have come. No way could she deal with seeing him again...all grown up...wearing butt-hugging jeans and a cowboy hat.
Nope, she could do very nicely without that meeting.
And just as she thought it, there was a loud clatter coming from up above her.
“Look out!” a male voice yelled.
She stared up as a black cowboy hat came tumbling off the roof followed by a man holding on to a thick white rope. He caught himself on the trellis that crept up the front of the building. Then in what seemed like slow motion, he lost his hold and with more hooting he slid off the trellis and reached for a low-hanging branch of the barren maple tree. He only briefly caught it then slid off that and swung toward the front porch. He put out his hands and grabbed hold of the gutter that ran around the roof of the front porch, finally stopping his momentum.
He hung there, strapped in his red harness, momentarily facing the front door.
No one moved or spoke as he slowly swung himself around to face Bella.
“Woo-hoo! That was one hell of an entrance!” he howled.
Despite the stubbly facial hair, something Bella did not usually like on a man, she knew absolutely she was gawking at a grown-up Travis Granger, and from his entrance, grown-up status had obviously completely eluded him.
She lifted an eyebrow, smirked and said, “I’m not impressed.”
Although, if truth be told, the little girl in her would have loved to be swinging on the harness with him, but she abruptly quashed that childish notion.
She walked away from him and calmly seized her father’s arm, trying her best not to show her anger in front of Travis as she guided her turncoat dad toward the lobby of the inn.
“We need to talk,” she told her dad as they padded around the dangling Travis, who smiled over at her looking every bit as sexy as she had imagined he would be. His hair color hadn’t changed much from a sandy shade of light brown, only the golden sun streaks were gone and he wore it cropped fairly short now. Despite his having worn a hat, she could tell there was a lot of style going on with all that thick hair.
She’d forgotten how gray his eyes were, the color of slate, but she hadn’t forgotten how his lips had once felt on hers, all warm and sexy. No other boy could kiss like Travis Granger. If he’d improved at all on that thirteen-year-old kiss, which looking at him now he most certainly had to, she definitely needed to get out of Briggs before the ink dried on the documents she wanted her father to sign.
Being around Travis again only deepened the wound in her heart. She’d cried enough tears over him when she first left Briggs. She sure as heck wasn’t going to go through that again no matter how perfectly his jeans hugged his butt or how hot he looked dangling in a harness.
* * *
TRAVIS LET OUT another loud whoop once Colt and Dodge rescued him. Bella had disappeared into the inn with her dad and Joey, who had followed close behind.
“That woman is a different kind of fine,” Travis cooed, every cell in his body excited about seeing Bella again.
Bella Biondi had grown into a siren of an Italian beauty with thick black hair, smokin’ hot eyes and an attitude that made him want to know exactly what she kept hidden under all that bluster.
“Maybe so, but that fine lady doesn’t seem to want any part of you,” Colt told him as he helped brush off the snow that Travis was covered in.
“There’s where you’re wrong, brother. She’s begging me to break through that hard shell of hers,” Travis said as he retrieved his hat and dusted off the snow.
“I’m thinking that there shell of hers is thicker than twelve-gauge steel, son,” Dodge said. “You’re gonna need a blowtorch to get through it. And in the end, you might be the one gettin’ burned.”
“I’ve never been afraid of a little heat,” Travis joked. “It keeps things moving along at a fast pace.”
Dodge opened the front door to the inn and the three men walked inside, with Travis honed in on Bella who had removed her coat and knit hat. She looked even more dazzling in a red sweater and tight jeans that showed off every curve of her lean body.
“Everyone, please stop decorating!” Bella announced to Helen, Colt’s wife, and their four kids who were busy trimming the monster blue spruce centered in the front bank of windows. Colt’s toddler must have gotten scared because she dropped the glass ornament she’d been holding. It shattered on the floor and she began to cry.
> Her mom whisked her up and comforted her, but there was no calming the tearful child.
Helen threw Bella an angry look and immediately took the children into the empty back dining room. Most of the guests left for the day right after breakfast, so the inn was always deserted in the afternoons.
“That might have been a little harsh, honey,” Nick said, but Bella didn’t flinch.
“I’m sorry, but we have a flight out of here this evening. Decorating is a waste of everyone’s time. Of course, you already knew that, Dad, so I don’t get all of this.”
She opened her black briefcase, pulled out a stack of papers, and carefully placed them on a coffee table in front of the tufted brown leather sofa.
“He wanted everything to be perfect for you,” Travis said. “We’ve been working round the clock to make the inn look like it did when you were a kid.”
“Excuse me,” Colt said and followed after his wife and children into the back dining room. Dodge retreated out the front door.
“Thanks, but that, too, was a total waste of everyone’s time. There will be no Christmas celebrations at the inn this year.” She said it as though she had the final word on the issue instead of Nick.
Travis immediately turned to Nick who placed an elbow on the black walnut mantel at the far end of the room. A fire roared in the hearth behind him, warming the festive room. Nick didn’t flinch, smile or react. He merely stared at his daughter, stone-faced.
Travis decided to take another approach, rubbed his now itchy chin and spread a friendly smile across his face. “I don’t know what you might have planned, but that’s not exactly an option. Your dad and half the town have been gearing up for this Christmas for the last six months. The inn is booked to eighty percent capacity, and every event that takes place in this town for the next week all begin and end right here. It’s going to be the best Christmas Dream Weaver Inn has ever known.”
