by Jen Peters
What did he want to do now? What would his place in the firm be, besides being chairman of the board of directors? Ree’s question from the day before had kept him awake half the night: And what do you deserve, Mitch?
He perched in a chair at a porch table during the wedding, not noticing any details. All he could say afterwards was that the bride’s dress was white. The next thing he knew, the recessional music was ending, people were calling out congratulations, and Billy’s crew began bringing food out.
He maneuvered out of the way, but congratulated the bride and groom as Ree showed them to their seats. “Do you have a minute,” he whispered to her when they were settled.
Her eyes were as icy as her dress. “What do you think?" And headed back inside.
That was stupid—of course she was busy.
He wandered the edge of the gardens while the guests ate. Ree really was angry at him, but he couldn’t help the fact that he had succeeded in his career by doing the same thing that ruined her father. Just like he couldn’t help that he had inherited his grandfather’s money. If she was that dead set against him, there was no hope.
But surely that couldn’t be all. Ree had pushed through some hard things in her life. She loved hearing about his travel, had planned a way to see the world without much money, even if it would take a few years to get there. She wasn’t one to let obstacles get in her way.
He walked through the wooded areas while the threads of his thoughts and memories wove various patterns, his words and actions laying first one way, then another, criss-crossing often with hers. There were no answers until he laid hers out first, saw the pattern through her eyes.
And when he realized where he had gone wrong, other pieces of the pattern fell into place. What did he want to do with his life? What did he deserve, she had asked.
He turned, content to rest one arm against a tree and watch the wedding party. Ree was in and out, gliding gracefully up and down the stairs as she checked details. They would talk, but not until the party was over.
An hour later, when the last car had rolled out of the parking area, Mitch walked back up to the mansion. The waiters had finished clearing up and were breaking down the tables. “Good job, guys, thanks,” he said, clapping one youngster on the shoulder. Inside, he found Billy wiping the last counter of a sparkling kitchen. “The food was superb, Chef,” he said, reaching for a handshake.
“My pleasure,” Billy said, his eyes twinkling. “I haven’t enjoyed myself like this for months. I’m happy to do breakfasts for the inn, and anytime you want to do a special event, I’m your man.”
He nodded his thanks and went to find Ree. She was high on a ladder in the parlor, taking down lights and fabric with Robin. She had already changed back into her work clothes. He touched her knee. “Walk with me?” he asked gently.
A smile flashed across her face, then disappeared just as quickly. Finally she stepped down from the ladder. “I can give you five minutes.”
“They can finish without you. Please.” He was hard-pressed not to beg, but what he had to say was much more important than clean-up.
Robin spoke up from the other ladder. “Just go, Ree. We’ve got this."
Mitch took her elbow gently. With a sigh, she walked with him, unconsciously matching his step. He led her outside, down to the half-finished memorial garden.
“This will be beautiful. On my grandfather’s behalf, thank you.”
She looked over the shrubs just starting to bloom. “I was happy to do it.” She didn’t look back at him.
“Ree,” he said, pulling her to the stone bench with him. “I’m sorry.”
She jerked her eyes up. “What?”
“Those woods are good for thinking,” he said with a rueful smile. “And I might have an idea what I did that’s upset you.”
She looked through the trees. “I’m not upset.”
He turned her chin back to him. “Oh yes, you are. And rightfully so. But I suspect it’s not my job that bothers you, because you’ve known that for a while. And it’s not my money, either, is it?”
She thrust her jaw forward, not saying a word.
“It’s the fact that I didn’t tell you. That I wasn’t honest about who I was.”
Suddenly her eyes were searching his. “You actually realize that?”
Mitch took her hands. “I work in a world where everybody has an agenda, and you don’t show your hand until you’re ready. I’ve learned to live that way, to think it’s normal. Now, it’s not that I was hiding things from you personally, but I really wanted people to take me for who I am and not judge me just for what my family has accomplished. And in this town especially, I didn’t want to waltz in as one of the McCormicks who started it all.”
Ree looked down at his hands over hers. “I guess I can understand that.”
“Then can you also understand that my life has taught me to look for other people’s agendas? That it wasn’t … illogical for me to think you might be after my money?”
She pulled back sharply. “I would never! And you shouldn’t ever have thought so!”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I know that. At least, I know that now. Earlier, I think I was just reacting. You’re the most open and honest person I’ve ever met, the first person in a long time who hasn’t wanted any more from me than what you were saying out loud.”
Ree sighed, a long sigh that granted absolution. “I’ve missed you,” she admitted. “It’s hard to believe how much I’ve missed you in just a couple days." She finally met his gaze, her blue eyes deepening with longing.
Mitch tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, traced her jaw with the lightest of touches. “I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed hearing your laugh and the touch of your hand. I’ve missed your energy and your ideas bubbling over. And I’ve missed this." He bent his head, touching her lips briefly with his own.
She sighed again, then reached forward and brushed her lips over his as if with the lightest of feathers. Then she ran her hands through his hair and pulled his mouth toward hers.
He settled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She pulled back for a breath, so he sent his kisses over her hair, her eyelids, and that beautiful soft skin. And then her mouth was searching for his again.
Chapter 27
Roses bloomed profusely, perfuming the memorial garden. Ree sat on the stone bench, close enough to Mitch to feel his warmth. He gazed at the sculpture of soaring and swooping birds, an incredible combination of grace and engineering. She leaned into him, put one hand on his chest, felt the strong beat of his heart.
It beat for her, she thought in wonder. The love of this man still surprised her. It hadn’t been in her plans, but there was no way she could give it up. Or change any of the path they took to get here.
But the week had been busy, following up with Mrs. Markov and finishing everything for the official grand opening today, while Mitch had been back up in Portland doing lawyer stuff. The phone wasn’t sufficient for the questions on her mind, or the thoughtful answers they required.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. He sighed and bent to kiss her hair.
“I love you, Ree,” he said quietly.
She smiled. “I love you too, more than you know. But we still have some things to figure out.”
“Like what we’re going to do with our lives?” he murmured over her head.
She sat up straight and grinned. “I’m going to run the inn. What are you going to do?" Then she snuggled back into him and sobered. “No, seriously, are you going to keep doing corporate takeovers?"
She wasn’t sure what she would do if he said yes. Somehow learn to live with it? But everything he’d talked about made it clear that it left him disg—
He kissed her hair again, cutting off her thoughts. “I can’t. It’s completely soul-sucking to me now. I’d much rather hang out here.”
Ree looked up at him and could feel the twinkle in her eyes. “Want to run the inn with me?”
M
itch gave a muffled snort. “You do such a great job that I’d just be redundant.”
“So what then?" She stroked her thumb over his hand.
He reached his arm around her shoulders and looked at the shining copper birds. “Granddad knew how I felt and suggested a few possibilities just before he passed away. I looked into them, although nothing clicked. But I made some phone calls this week and met with a few people.”
Ree waited. And waited. Finally she slugged his arm. “Tell me!”
She felt his grin. “I like seeing what people in town need, like your mother, and what the McCormick Foundation can help with,” he said. “I like your ideas of bringing the town to life and knowing that we can make it happen. And I like the other things the Foundation does—the scholarships, the medical clinics, things like that.”
“So?”
“So as of Monday, I’ll be the Vice-Chairman of the McCormick Foundation Board.”
“Mitch, that’s wonderful! And definitely not soul-sucking!" She reached up to kiss his chin, but he met her halfway. The short kiss turned long, sending everything else out of her mind. It was quite a bit later before she could ask her next question.
“So what exactly does that mean?" And where will you be, she added silently.
He leaned back. “It means I’ll be spending a lot of time on the phone, traveling some, talking to people, listening to presentations. And giving away money.”
“From where?” Her voice was hardly above a whisper.
He chuckled. “From here, of course. You don’t think I could leave the two best things I’ve found lately, do you?”
“Two?”
“You, of course. And a hometown, even if it did take me three generations to come back to it.”
She didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter—he bent his head and kissed her thoroughly, taking away any possibility of words.
The finishing touches were done in the guest rooms; flowers accented every side table; the gardens outside were exquisite. Including the memorial garden for Mitch’s grandfather.
A crowd had gathered on the porch, but Mitch and Ree stood inside the welcome hall with the doors closed.
Mitch lifted his grandfather’s portrait into place, with his grandmother’s hanging next to it. He stepped back, satisfied, and gave his grandfather a nod.
“You sure you’re okay with everyone knowing?” Ree asked.
Mitch looked at her, eyes full of warmth and love, then back at the portrait that looked so much like him. “It’s who I am,” he said simply. “If I want people to accept me honestly, then I need to do so as well.”
Ree wrapped her arms around him, grateful for this man of hers. Hers. More than anything else, he was what she wanted. He fulfilled her, lifted her, helped her accept who she was—a daughter of this town.
She was surprised at how much her feelings had turned around in the last month. Running the inn was a big responsibility, and one she was thriving on. Once she “took ownership” as they would say, she realized how she really felt about her home—not a place to escape, but a place to anchor her through whatever adventures they might have.
Ree looped her arm through Mitch’s and pulled him toward the door. “Let’s go welcome our guests."
* * *
Thank you so much for reading Finding Her Heart!
Click here to find out what happens when Robin gathers her courage to start an animal shelter for McCormick’s Creek. Will she be able to lean on handsome rancher Cliff Jackson for help, or will she retreat back into her safe place?
Or just turn the page to read an excerpt!
Safe in His Heart (excerpt)
Robin Cooper laughed as four rowdy dogs tumbled over each other, each determined to reach the orange tennis ball first. Chance and Buster shouldered each other, even though Buster was built like a linebacker while Chance was a lithe, greyhound type. In the end, little Augie dashed between their legs and emerged triumphant. Jello, the overweight golden retriever, hadn’t even made it to the tussle.
They were all rescues, abandoned by the side of a back road and found by Robin or her brother, Justin. Sometimes scrawny and matted, sometimes well-fed but simply unwanted. Robin brought them back, taught them some manners when needed, and set out to find new homes for them. It wasn’t their fault that their people had been uncaring and irresponsible.
Soldier, a three-legged German Shepherd, had sat stately by her side while the others played. They bounced back now, and Augie, a fluffy mutt, obediently dropped the ball in her lap. She ran her fingers across his curly head, pulled back her arm, and threw the ball again.
Unfortunately, Chance crashed into Buster just then; Buster knocked into her leg, and the ball flew over the side fence instead of toward the back of the yard. The dogs zoomed after it anyway, and Robin’s jaw dropped as Chance launched his lean, greyhound-type body to the top of the picnic table and over the fence.
“Chance!” she yelled, scrambling out of the gate while closing the other dogs in.
Chance was sniffing around the neighbor’s flower beds—loads of petunias, roses, hollyhocks, and a bunch of other stuff that Robin couldn’t identify but was sure would be crushed if her escapee kept going.
“C’mere, boy, time to go home,” she called, keeping her voice enthusiastic instead of scolding. The neighbor’s backyard wasn’t fenced and she wanted him to come, not evade her.
Chance looked up and started toward her, then caught sight of a squirrel in the front yard. Robin took off after him, through the front yard where the squirrel had quickly scampered out of sight, past three other houses, across the street, and four blocks toward the town center. She was far behind him when something caught his attention enough to make him stop. Or someone, to be precise—the elderly Beaumont twins.
Out of breath and nursing a stitch in her side, she approached the group with a smile. “Miss Lily, Miss Rose, how did you ever get him to stop?”
Miss Lily, plump and gentle and well into her 80s, grinned. “We’re taking cupcakes to Mr. O’Connell and saw your quite elegant dog coming toward us.”
“About to bowl us over, more like,” grumbled Miss Rose.
“Yes, dear. Well, we certainly couldn’t run to catch him for you, could we?” The dimple in Miss Lily’s cheek appeared. “So we gave him a cupcake!”
“Waste of a good cupcake,” Miss Rose said. “Mr. O’Connell could have used it for another ounce or two on his skinny frame.” She kept one hand on Chance’s collar while she petted him. “Don’t suppose it would hurt this boy here to have another few ounces, either.”
It was hard to believe the two elderly ladies were twins—Miss Rose was as wiry as Miss Lily was soft, in personality as well as build. Robin was amazed they managed to live with each other, but she supposed that after so many years, they’d learned the trick of it.
“Thank you so much—I really appreciate it,” Robin said, clipping the leash onto Chance’s collar. “I had no idea he could get out the way he did.”
“Racing heritage, I imagine,” Miss Rose said.
Miss Lily giggled, her soft peach curls quivering. “You could tie up one of his legs and enter him in the 3-legged race at the school carnival.”
Robin laughed and Miss Rose grumbled. “You are the silliest creature I’ve ever known, Lily.”
“Yes, dear, but it would be a sight to see, wouldn’t it? Now, let’s get Mr. O’Connell the rest of these cupcakes.”
Robin watched them go, Miss Lily chattering away and Miss Rose limping slightly beside her. “Come on, Chance, time for us to go, too.”
Back at home, she watched the dogs romp as they welcomed Chance back, then left them outside while she flopped on her bed with Augie. “Didn’t know I was so out of shape,” she said, giving him a tummy rub. “You’d think being on my feet all day would give me more endurance.”
She pulled out her phone to text Ree Swanson, her best friend, but it rang before she could start typing.
“Hey, Mr.
Jackson. What’s up?” Robin stretched out on her bed, and Augie swiped his paw in the air to get her scratching him again.
“Robin, honey, I’ve got a stray dog out here that won’t stay away from the cattle,” came Mr. Jackson’s raspy voice. “He’s going to get his head kicked in unless you can come get him.”
“Sure, Mr. J. I’ll be right over.” She slipped her shoes on and grabbed her keys. “I’ll be right back,” she said, patting Augie’s head. “Maybe even with a new buddy for you guys.”
Robin tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, keeping time with her favorite Lady Antebellum song and wondering where in the world she was going to put another dog. Augie already had the run of the house and the spot on her bed. The four others spent the days in the backyard and the nights in the family room. Her mother would croak if she brought another one home before she found families for at least one of them.
She drove out of McCormick’s Creek, and as the hills opened up into the small Hawthorne Valley, she wondered again why she didn’t come out here more often. It wasn’t far, and it was beautiful—Mr. Jackson’s Double J Ranch filling the right side of the valley, a few houses close in on the left, and a lady’s horse ranch behind them. Lots of acres of pasture and alfalfa, dotted with livestock.
She pulled down the Double J’s long driveway and up to an old-fashioned red barn. There were other outbuildings, pole barns with metal siding, but this was the one Mrs. J’s grandfather had built. A round pen for training horses and a complex of cattle chutes stood to the side of the horse barn, with a two-story house across a wide, open space.
She didn’t see Mr. Jackson around the buildings, but there was a guy she didn’t know loading alfalfa bales from a flatbed onto a long hay elevator, and she figured Jory, Mr. J’s ranch hand, was the one hauling bales off at the other end and stacking them in the hay barn.
