by Jane Porter
“Again, you’re not her. You can make different decisions. You can choose happiness.”
Chapter Ten
The next afternoon while Rory was doing a little Christmas shopping in town he got a call from a realtor based out of Denver asking about the Douglas Ranch.
Rory was immediately on guard. He’d had so many of these calls over the past two decades, calls from realtors and interested buyers that weren’t serious about purchasing the property. Instead they were scouts for a paranormal TV show, and crime solvers, and amateur ghost hunters. Or they were prospective buyers who offered Rory pennies for the property, thinking he’d jump at the chance to dump the ranch.
Those people didn’t understand what the Douglas Ranch meant to him, and the family. Yes, something awful had happened there twenty-two years ago, but before that night, it had been land that had been passed down from generation to generation. What he wanted for the property was to find a good buyer, someone who’d take care of it, and put up a handsome new house somewhere, maybe on one of those rolling hills with a view of the valley and the river below.
“It’s been off the market for a number of years,” Rory said.
“Would you be open to receiving an offer?” the realtor asked.
“Is the buyer familiar with the ranch’s history?”
“Yes.”
Rory could hear the realtor shuffling some papers.
“He competed with you on the American Extreme Bull Rider Tour this past year,” the realtor added. “You mentioned your property, and how it could be available if you found the right buyer.”
“You’re not going to tell me his name?”
“I’m just doing some legwork right now.”
Rory felt the old tightness in his chest. It was still so hard to discuss the ranch with anyone. “What can I tell you?”
“The most recent appraisal I can find is five years old. Does that sound correct?”
“Yes.”
Rory hated even discussing the ranch. “As you can see from the last appraisal, as well as comps of property in the area, it’s good land.”
“It needs improving.”
“What land doesn’t?”
“But it’s sat vacant for twenty-two years, hasn’t it?” the realtor answered.
“I’m not interested in a low-ball offer.”
“It wouldn’t be a low-ball offer.”
“What does he want to do with it? Chop it up and turn it into ranchettes?”
“No, he wants to run livestock on it.”
“It seems to me the problem isn’t whether or not I’d sell. The problem is whether or not he really wants to pull the trigger after he reads the full disclosure. That’s been the issue virtually every time. It’s not the appraisal, and it’s not the bank. It’s the buyer.”
“The buyer is familiar with what occurred, and just to clarify, he doesn’t need a bank. He has cash, it’d be close to a full offer, and he’d like to close quickly. Before Christmas if possible.”
Rory was stunned. It was almost too good to be true. “There are no buildings on the property anymore. The house and barn were torn down. The area has been scraped clean. Only thing you’ll find there now is snow, and come spring, wildflowers. They’ve pretty much taken over the place.”
“That’s perfect. He wants to build. And who doesn’t like wildflowers?”
“I know you don’t want to disclose your client’s name yet, but if you’re telling me he’s serious, and he wants to put some love into that land, I guarantee we can make a fair deal, and close quickly. That property has stood empty too long. It’s time for a new owner, and time for my family to move on.”
“My client is thinking the same thing. I’ll be in touch again soon.”
Rory hung up and sat there in his chair, before his computer, staring into space. That was an incredible call. It’d be even more incredible if this mystery buyer made a respectable offer and they did close before the new year.
He was still lost in thought when his phone rang. He ignored the first couple of rings, and then when he finally glanced down and saw it was Sadie calling, he answered. “Afternoon.”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She hesitated. “So, I was calling to see it you’d want to do something with me. You’ve planned all these dates and I thought maybe it was my time to plan something for us. It’d be early next week.”
“Sounds good.”
“Are you free?”
He laughed, picturing his calendar. It was virtually wide open. “Yes. What are we doing, or is it a surprise?”
“It’s called Mistletoe and Montana. It’s an annual Christmas tree auction usually held in Livingston, but it’s been moved to Marietta this year, and it’s going to be at the Graff. I was just offered two pairs of tickets—it’s a fancy evening event—if I’d be willing to help out with one of the trees and I thought if I’d ask you, and if you said yes, then McKenna and Trey, too.”
“What do you have to do for these four tickets?”
“Design a themed tree.”
“Just design it?”
She hesitated. “Decorate it, too.” When he said nothing she hurriedly added, “They lost one of their sponsors or something, and they’re in a bind and I know it’s going to be a lot of work but I think it could be a good way to get my name out there and I love things like this. I love to be creative.”
“Do they at least donate the tree?”
“No.”
“And you have to cover all the expenses?”
“It’s for a good cause.”
“And tell me again what you get out of this, besides two pairs of tickets to this charity gala?”
“I get to sponsor something worthwhile.”
She worked so hard, and she sounded so excited. He worried about her pushing so hard and juggling so many things but he didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. “I think it’s awesome what you’re doing.”
“You do? Yay! I was worried you’d say something about me already having so much on my plate, and it is happening really soon, so it’s going to be a push to get everything done, but I’ll just work hard this weekend. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. And it seems to me you like being busy. I don’t think you’d know what to do with yourself if you didn’t have a couple projects going on all at one time.”
She laughed, amused. “So true. I’m not very good at relaxing.”
Strangely, he understood. He’d never enjoyed doing nothing. It was why he got into real estate. “So what is the attire for party?”
“Dressy, but I’m not sure it’s black tie. I’ll have to look into that.”
“I can clean up alright, but I don’t have a tux.”
“I don’t think you need one. You’re so fine you could probably walk in wearing just your Wranglers and an open flannel.”
Rory laughed softly, appreciatively. She knew how to make him feel like a million bucks. “So when do I see you again?”
“Soon. Hopefully.”
“Soon sounds good,” he agreed. “Let’s plan on dinner this weekend. Maybe I can make you dinner at my place Saturday night?”
“Can you cook?”
“I don’t look like I’m starving, do I?”
“Uh, no. You look, um, perfect.”
He grinned again, his body heating, hardening. He wanted her so much. She tested the limits of his self-control. “Dinner Saturday will make four dates. You do know what that means?”
“That you’re still competitive with Paul?”
“He’s not my rival.”
“He’s not your rival,” she agreed. “Not even close.” She hesitated, before adding, “Because you have no rival.”
“No?”
“No.” Her voice was breathless. She sounded impossibly sweet. “There’s no one I like as much as you. There’s no one else I want to be with, either. There is just you.”
He was silent letting the words sink in. They sounded good
and they felt even better. “You don’t have to make any big decisions until date five.”
Her light, tinkling laugh made him smile. She sounded so happy. It felt good to know he could make her happy. “We have a good thing here,” he said. “And it’s just going to keep getting better.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so,” he answered firmly. “We can make this go the distance.”
“How do you know?”
“Just a gut feeling.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “And you have a good gut?”
“The best.”
On Friday, in between applying coats of paint and varnish to a headboard and coffee table, Sadie went through all the ornaments she’d collected since she was a girl. She’d always had a weakness for antique ornaments, and she’d bought boxes and boxes over the years, picking up six at a flea market, and then a dozen in a second-hand store, four in an antique store, and two dozen from eBay. Her collection was enormous, which meant she had more than enough of the delicate rose, blue, silver and gold balls and spheres to cover an eight-foot Christmas tree. The glittering antique ornaments would look beautiful paired with the inexpensive clear glass balls she’d bought at a discount store two years ago, the clear glass reflecting the colors of the antique ornaments and the lights of the tree.
But by midafternoon she was missing Rory and she texted him to see if he could meet for coffee. He didn’t answer right away. In fact, it was nearly an hour before she heard from him. “Sorry. Have been at the airport and now heading to our old ranch in Paradise Valley. Are we still on for tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she texted back. “Of course.”
The bull rider interested in the Douglas property was Chase Garrett, and he was interested in purchasing the ranch to work it with his brothers.
Rory had always liked Chase, and the offer that came in this morning was such a solid, respectable one, it made Rory admire Chase more.
While Rory liked the offer, he was uncomfortable accepting without someone coming out to have a look at the property and so this afternoon Rory picked up the Denver realtor from the Bozeman airport, and drove him out to the Douglas Ranch. They tramped around a bit, as they walked around, the sun came out from behind the clouds and splashed the landscape with golden light.
“Beautiful views from up here,” the realtor said as Rory drove him up to the foothills.
“God’s country,” Rory answered quietly.
The realtor glanced at Rory. “Is it going to be hard to let this all go?”
“No. It’s time.”
Rory signed the offer sitting at a café in a strip mall not far from the Bozeman airport. He accepted all the terms and conditions. There was no need to make a counter offer. The offer was clean and strong and Rory understood that Chase wanted to close soon. Rory wanted to close, too, ready for new beginnings.
They were exiting the café and heading back to the truck when Rory spotted a large snow globe in the window of the gift shop next door. It was bigger than the traditional snow globe, with the glass resting on an ornate silver base. What caught his eye, though, was the shape of the mountain inside the globe. It looked like Copper Mountain with the same distinctive peak.
He stepped closer to the window for a better look. Three scenes had been cut into the mountain and he immediately thought of Sadie. In one scene a pair ice skated on a tiny frozen pond, while in another a couple rode in a horse drawn carriage, and then in the last, a couple strolled down a festive Victorian-looking street.
Rory felt as though he were looking at Marietta one hundred and twenty some years ago. It would have been around the time his great-great-grandfather, Sinclair Douglas, an Irish miner who’d come from Butte to work Copper Mountain purchased the land in Paradise Valley, and married McKenna Frasier, Paradise Valley’s first schoolteacher.
And now Rory had just signed away the ranch Sin Douglas had purchased.
But it was time. Rory, Quinn, and McKenna needed to be free of the past. They needed a fresh start. And looking at the miniature scenes carved into the towering mountain, Rory was somehow certain his great-great-grandfather would approve. After all, Sin Douglas was a man who’d left Butte to start fresh, and by starting over, he’d achieved great things.
Rory was ready to achieve great things, even if those great things were as simple as getting married and becoming a father.
While the realtor made phone calls outside, Rory went into the gift shop and paid for the snow globe. And then with the oversized globe bubble wrapped and placed in a shopping bag, Rory returned to his truck and drove the realtor to the airport, and then finally headed back to Marietta.
It had been a long day, but a good day. A day of endings and new beginnings and a snow globe that made him smile.
It was only when he was close to his renovated stable-house that he realized he didn’t want to wait to give Sadie the snow globe. He’d missed her today and he wanted to tell her about everything that had happened, and he didn’t want to go to bed without seeing her beautiful face.
He called her as he approached Chance Avenue. She picked up right away.
“I have something for you,” he said. “I’m on my way to your house now.”
“You don’t know where I live.”
“You’re on Chance Avenue, aren’t you? Just go outside and wait for me. I’ll find you.”
Rory had avoided this street for years, and now he was on it, and he was glad, glad to be driving it today because today was about endings and new beginnings, and he was ready to move forward. He was finally making peace with his past and, just maybe, peace with himself.
He traveled three blocks before he saw her ahead. She was holding her phone, the light illuminating her face. She waved at him. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement as he slowed, braking in front of the house. But as he shifted into park, he did a double take recognizing the small house with its boxy shape, the picket fence where most people in the neighborhood had chain link fences, and the narrow sliver of a front yard dominated by the big tree in the front corner, significant because the tree’s roots had cracked and buckled the sidewalk running past.
Rory slowly turned off the ignition, eyes narrowing. There was no way. She wasn’t...
It had to be just a weird coincidence that Sadie was standing in front of the house where he’d dropped McKenna that night because Sadie couldn’t be the girl... the one who’d had the party... could she?
What were the odds? It was improbable, impossible.
Stepping out of the truck, Rory pocketed his keys and tried to collect his thoughts.
“Hey.” Sadie came toward him, smiling, and yet there was something a little anxious in her expression, a wariness in her eyes, and his gut knew that she’d been worried about this. She hadn’t wanted him to come to her house. Why?
“So darlin’,” he said slowly, trying to keep his temper in check, “want to fill me in on what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is the house. And you’re the girl. The girl who apparently likes to keep secrets.”
Sadie shivered at the hardness in his voice. His expression was just as flinty. He was angry.
“Can we go inside?” she said. “Talk there where it’s warmer?”
“I need to get on the road.”
She drew a careful breath, shoulders hunching against the cold. “I didn’t know how to tell you. But then, I wasn’t sure you’d remember, or care.”
“Not remember?” he ground out, tone low and harsh and icy cold. “Not remember the day my family was murdered?”
She flinched. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that a lot happened on that day, and I didn’t know if my party mattered, or that I mattered.”
“Mac was here when it happened.”
“Yes.”
“The only reason she survived was because she was here.”
“Yes.”
“How does that not matter?”
Sadie swallowed around the lump
filling her throat. “I didn’t mean that McKenna didn’t matter, or that it wasn’t important—” She broke off, air bottling in her lungs because she’d wondered all these years how Rory would react if he knew that she was the one who’d had the party, and it was her house that McKenna was at. And now she knew. And it wasn’t good. She rubbed her hands together and then cupped them over her mouth, breathing on her fingers to warm them up. “I’m freezing, Rory. Please come into the house.”
“No.”
“At least let me get a coat.”
“No need. I’m leaving.”
Her eyes stung. “Don’t go angry. Please.”
“Sadie, I don’t know what to think right now.”
“Think about what?”
“About you, this, all of us.” He turned away, glanced down the dark street where the small houses lined up in an untidy row. She watched him scan the street and then look at his truck and then finally look back at her. “I don’t get it,” he said at length. “I don’t get this game you’ve been playing.”
Her heart lurched, her insides heaving. “There’s been no game.”
“You said you used to pray for me—”
“I did.”
“And you followed my career.”
“Yes.”
“And you even came to see me, night after night. I always wondered why. Why me. I understand now.”
“Understand what?”
“The guilt. Your emotions. How upset you’ve been. I finally get it, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to be a part of it. Let’s not do this anymore.”
“Rory.”
“Don’t.” His voice was rough, sharp, and it stopped her next words. “The truth is, you never desired me, and you certainly didn’t love me. What you felt was pity and maybe some twisted fascination. I’ve met women like you. They don’t want a normal relationship, and they don’t want a healthy man. They want someone sick and broken because it makes them feel powerful.”
Her stomach heaved again. She felt as if she was going to be sick. “You’re wrong.”
“Then why keep where you lived a secret? And you have. We both know you have. I’ve offered to pick you up for our dates, and each time you had some excuse. Why didn’t I see that before? My rental house is four blocks from here. It’s maybe a seven-minute walk. The fact that you didn’t want me to come here speaks volumes.”
