by Jane Porter
Until now he’d thought her eyes were brown, a simple chocolate brown, but now he saw they were a hazel green with bits of light blue. Or was it silver?
With her brows arching, dark elegant wings behind the masculine frames, and her hazel eyes snapping fire, he thought she’d never looked quite so bright and beautiful.
If only she understood that she looked very appealing annoyed.
Quite kissable with her pink lips pursed.
“What?” she mouthed at him.
“What, what?” he whispered back.
Her nostrils flared as she exhaled hard. “You’re staring.”
Heads were turning. Everyone seemed to be looking at them now but McKenna, who was looking away.
Troy leaned closer to Taylor. He spoke under his breath. “I like your glasses.”
For a moment Taylor just looked at him, her expression incredulous, and then she leaned very close to him, so close he could smell a hint of citrus and orange blossom. Shampoo or fragrance, he didn’t know which.
“They’re not a fashion statement,” she said quietly, tersely. “I need them to see. Now ssshh. We’re interrupting the meeting.”
Why did she say that?
The moment the words left her mouth, Taylor wanted to die of mortification. Ssssh. We’re interrupting the meeting. She sounded like such a fuddy-duddy. Like the crabbiest old woman alive.
Like Margaret Houghton, Marietta’s head librarian.
But Taylor wasn’t Margaret, nor was she crabby. Taylor was an optimist. And a closet romantic. But even optimists and closet romantics had to know when they were out-classed.
Troy wasn’t in her class, or her league, or anything at all that she could be part of.
She and Troy might as well exist on different planets and spheres.
She wasn’t a big city girl. She didn’t like social functions. She loved disappearing into bed with a wonderful story.
And yes, one day she hoped to find true love… that wasn’t in a romance novel… and she was sure, one day, she’d find Mr. Right, and when she did, he would make sense to her, and suit her, and reflect her morals and values.
He’d be a simple man, too. A homebody. A man who loved books and… and….
Taylor frowned.
What else would he love?
Sports? Hiking? Skiing? Mountain climbing?
Her frown deepened.
She didn’t do any of those things. But she did like movies, and she enjoyed some good quality television programs.
She loved B&Bs and scenic drives. She loved visiting historical spots, too, and hoped one day to visit all the national parks in the States.
Surely there was a man out there who’d like her, and want to do those things with her, too.
Surely.
And when she did find him, she’d know he was right. He’d look right. He’d feel right. He’d be right.
Troy had been waiting for the committee meeting to come to an end so he could speak to McKenna. He wanted to come see TJ one night this week while he was home but the moment the meeting did end, McKenna was on her feet and bolting out the door.
Troy tried to follow but Paige stopped him and asked a question about the suite being donated to the Great Wedding Giveaway for the bridal couple, and by the time he’d answered her question and made it into the hallway, McKenna and TJ were long gone.
He was still standing there, when Taylor exited the boardroom and locked the door on the now empty room. “Everything okay?” she asked him, even as Louise emerged from the back of the library, turning off lights as she went.
“Yes,” he said, but he was frustrated. He loved McKenna. Loved TJ. He didn’t want to lose them and he was beginning to worry that maybe he already had.
“Were you hoping to catch McKenna?” Taylor asked.
He nodded.
Louise glanced from Troy to Taylor, said goodnight, and then headed out, leaving Troy and Taylor in the hall.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said. “Make sure you get to your car safely.”
“I have a few things to do first,” Taylor said. “So don’t wait. I’ll be fine. Marietta’s safe.”
“I’m not going to leave until you’re safely at your car,” he answered firmly.
So he waited while she double-checked that the computers were powered down and the lights were off in the restrooms, and just when she was ready to go, she remembered the reading she’d needed to do at home, and returned to the staff room to grab a stack of industry magazines.
“Are you going to read all that tonight?” he asked, nodding at the stack she’d bundled against her chest.
“I’ll skim everything. It’s good to stay up on industry news.”
His lips curved and it was all he could do to not comment on what must be a wildly exciting industry. There was no point in baiting her. She took her job very seriously and he had to admire her commitment.
They exited the front door and Taylor locked the door and set the alarm. Her teeth were chattering as she punched in the alarm code. “It’s cold,” she said, slipping her glove on.
“It’s been a long winter for most of the country,” he agreed.
“I take it you all haven’t been suffering too much in California?” she asked, shooting him a wry look.
“No. It’s been a really mild winter on the West. We could use some good storms in California. Need the rain. We’ve been in a drought for quite some time.”
“Why do you like California?”
“Besides the balmy winters?” he asked, flashing her a smile. “It’s just where the opportunity is for me. I like cities and innovation, and Silicon Valley is the home for many startups and technology, so it’s where I am, too.”
They were heading down the stairs for the parking lot and he saw Taylor glance at him, another one of her quick, shrewd glances. “You don’t miss Montana?”
There was no easy way to answer a question like that, he thought. His family situation made coming home complicated, if not downright uncomfortable. It was easier when his dad wasn’t ill. Easier to keep all the emotions and memories locked away. “Marietta will always be home, but my head is clearer in California. I function better there. Not so many ties and entanglements.” He grimaced, and shook his head. “I suppose that sounds ridiculous—”
“No,” she interrupted, bundling her arms tighter across her chest. “I’m quite ambivalent to Hopeville. I don’t find it easy or comfortable going home, so I appreciate your honesty. It’s reassuring.”
“You don’t go home often then?”
“No.”
“You don’t get along with your folks?”
“I get along fine with them, or at least, I used to until I took my brother under my wing. They didn’t appreciate my interference, and it has strained the relationship—which is quite an understatement—but I did what I had to. They were neglectful and didn’t treat him the way he deserved.”
“You’re very protective of him.”
“I have to be. What’s happened isn’t his fault. None of it is his fault.”
“So you’re not just his big sister, but his surrogate mom now.”
She nodded once and squared her shoulders. “You could say that.”
Looking down at her small face with the resolute press of pink lips, he felt a funny little pang. She really wasn’t like the other women he knew. He was glad. He liked her honesty. He was glad she wasn’t trying to impress him. “Would you want to grab a quick bite with me at Main Street Diner? I think they’re open for another hour.”
She made a face. “It’s late.”
“I know you haven’t eaten. Louise said you had no chance to grab anything before all of tonight’s meetings.”
“I can eat when I go home.”
“Louise said you’d just have soup.”
“And I would, it’s true.”
“She thinks you need some proper meals.”
Taylor’s jaw firmed and yet her eyes were smiling. “Louise shouldn’t
be sharing my personal life with you.”
“I’ve known her since I was just a little kid and she has a good heart. I respect her, and appreciate that she’s looking out for you.”
“She is one of my favorite people in Marietta, and she is right. I could use some real food. Besides,” she added, smiling wider, suddenly sounding mischievous. “It’s Tuesday.”
“This is good because…?”
“Tuesday means homemade beef barley soup at the diner.”
“Soup?” he laughed.
She grinned. “What can I say? I like soup. But don’t worry, I’ll order a salad, too.”
Chapter Five
‡
They cut through Crawford Park, towards the courthouse before crossing Front Street for the Main Street Diner.
Marietta had been so pretty with all the Christmas lights and decorations up. Now it just looked empty and a little dirty with white and gray snow heaped in the gutter and on all the street corners.
Taylor was glad to reach the diner to get out of the biting wind. Fortunately, at almost nine, the restaurant was virtually empty. The waitress told them they could sit anywhere and Troy left the choice to Taylor.
Taylor selected one of the big leather booths along the brick wall and once seated, she peeled off her coat and scarf and hat, piling them next to her. Suddenly she thought of McKenna, and how McKenna had avoided looking at Troy, and how Troy had gone after McKenna but she’d left without speaking to him.
“I didn’t realize until tonight that your brother Trey was the father of McKenna’s son,” Taylor said.
Troy gave her a wary glance. “You and McKenna aren’t close?”
“No, but I like her. I’ve always wanted to get to know her better, and tomorrow night we’re supposed to go look at dresses. Well, she’s trying on gowns. McKenna wants me there for moral support and maybe my advice.”
“Have you met Lawrence, her fiancé?”
“Briefly, but I do see him around. His office is on Main Street. He and McKenna both work in the same building, down by the Mercantile.”
“I don’t know him.”
“He seems nice, and very devoted to McKenna. He’s watched TJ a couple times when McKenna attends the Wedding Giveaway committee meetings. He and TJ will hang out in the children’s book section while we meet in the Crawford Room.”
“So McKenna is excited about the wedding?”
“I would think so. I imagine I’ll learn some details tomorrow night.”
“I hope she’ll be happy,” he said, picking up the menu. He studied it for a minute before setting it aside. “She deserves to be happy. McKenna is amazing, and a great mom to TJ.”
Taylor lifted a brow. “But..?”
His big shoulders shifted. “But nothing. Trey had the best girl—the best thing—and he screwed it up.”
“Did you love McKenna, too?”
“Of course I love her. Everybody loves McKenna. She’s just… that… special, but if you’re asking if I was in love with her, that’s a no. She was always Trey’s girl. Always. I would never, ever go there. Trey’s my twin.”
“Can’t imagine two of you,” Taylor answered. “Does Trey really look just like you?”
“We’re identical, but we’ve never dressed alike, or played the twins card. We’ve always been so different. Trey was quite a bit older than McKenna so they only flirted in high school, and began dating once McKenna had graduated from Marietta High. McKenna’s brothers, Rory and Quinn, did not want their sister dating Trey. She was this sweet, good girl and he was the terrible, bad boy but they clicked.”
“Opposites attract,” Taylor said.
He nodded. “She made him better and he made her laugh, and when it was good between them, it was very good, but when it was bad, it was hell. I don’t know how many times they broke off, only to get back together before another bruising break up. They were broken up—apparently for good—when McKenna discovered she was pregnant. It took her a long time to take him back, and then it was magic. Trey proposed, she’d accepted, and they were planning a wedding when Trey got in trouble. Now he’s gone for a couple years.”
“He got in a bar fight?”
“Some guy was getting rough with his girl over at the Wolf Den and Trey got involved, threw a punch, and the other guy hit his head on a table as he fell. He later died. Trey was arrested, and sentenced to three to five years for involuntary manslaughter.”
Taylor didn’t know what to say.
Troy shrugged. “It’s bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.” Troy lifted a hand, flagged the waitress down. “It’s late. We should probably order.”
They steered away from personal topics while they ate, discussing the ball for a bit, and then the Great Wedding Giveaway, before circling back to Taylor’s new job at the library.
“I love my job,” she said, answering Troy’s question. “And I love the building itself. The library has such a great history, built in the 1880’s as the third public building constructed during Marietta’s short-lived copper boom, and it’s handsome, with all those tall windows, the high ceilings, the marble foyer and staircase with hardwood floors on the first and second floors—” She took a breath. “But as it is now, it just feels old. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the library has a dusty, musty feel. And yet it’s clean. The problem is just that it’s never been updated. Even the glass display cabinets are filled with displays decades old.”
Troy smiled, enjoying how animated she’d become while talking about the library. She was passionate about her work and dedicated, too. The hiring committee had made the right decision, recommending her for the job. “What would you do with the library, if you could?”
“Besides change those ancient displays?” she asked, smiling crookedly. “Well, for one, I’d make the library a true community center. I’d overhaul the electrical—new lights and outlets throughout so people could bring their laptops and study there. I also think that the smaller conference room on the second floor would be perfect for a little café or espresso stand.”
“Espresso at the library?”
Taylor nodded. “It’s happening at libraries, and can’t you just see how good it would be for moms? They could grab a coffee and have a little visit or read a magazine while their kids went to story time with Louise. I think Marietta teens and local college students would enjoy a coffee or snack while studying. But of course, Margaret, won’t hear of us changing a single thing, library, whether it’s one of her faded but ‘culturally relevant’ display cases, or those hollow antiquated private rooms on the second floor that go unused, unless one of the book groups meet in them.”
“This is how it all starts, you know.”
“What does?”
“Change. You have an idea, and you get excited and throw your weight behind it and before you know it, you’re in really deep and everyone else is wondering what the hell happened.”
“Is that what happened with you and your hotel?”
“Pretty much.”
“But isn’t that good? Look what you’ve given back to Marietta.”
“Not everyone here is happy about it. Not everyone likes change, even if it’s beneficial.”
“Why?”
“Because some people are afraid of change. They’re afraid it means they might have to grow and change, and that could be hard work.”
“Well, I’m not asking anyone to change. I just want to improve the library. I’d like to make the library a thriving community center. Why not let that gorgeous old building become the heart of the community? A library is more than books and quiet spaces. A library should inspire, enrich, and support both individual patrons and the community—” she broke off and bit into her lower lip. “Maybe I am asking for some change.”
He smiled, liking her more and more, as well as impressed by her spirit. Who would have thought that the pretty new librarian had such fire? “Good. And don’t ever apologize for wanting to do so
mething here, or anywhere. We need people with passion and vision. I admire your enthusiasm. But can I offer you one piece of advice?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t fall in love with beautiful historic buildings in small towns.”
“No?”
“No. It’s a maddening love, and very expensive.”
She sat back in the booth, expression thoughtful. “I’ve wondered about that.”
“I’m sure everyone has.”
“So why did you do it?”
“The hotel is….” his voice drifted off and he stared off, picturing it as it was when he bought it—the boarded up windows, the ratty stained carpet covering the marble lobby, the holes in the walls and then that ballroom, the grand ballroom with its soaring ceiling and gilt trim, and the old reading room with its rich walnut paneling. He could feel the history in the abandoned building, set for demolition. He could picture the dances and the blushing brides and how stately even the old coatroom outside the ballroom must have been.
And he’d bought it on the spot.
For cash.
Because no one would loan him money for that eye sore. No one could see how it’d ever be restored and put back on the market without bleeding the investors dry.
And the hotel was bleeding him dry, but it was also beautiful now. A landmark. A Montana treasure. And he did feel good about that. He had done something right. Maybe not everyone would agree, or understand, but he remembered going to the Graff with his mother and brothers when he was young, just before it had closed, to see the Christmas tree in the big lobby, and have hot chocolate in the restaurant. They’d all dressed up, his mom and her four boys—Dillon wasn’t born yet—and Trey had been bored but Troy had been enthralled.
When he grew up, he’d live like this.
When he grew up, he’d give his mother a beautiful palace, just like this.
Troy suddenly became aware that Taylor was looking at him, and waiting, patiently for him to finish.
He looked into her face, and saw her eyes and her interest and she was interested in hearing what he had to say. Not because he was a Sheenan. Not because he was rich. But interested in what he thought, and felt.
