The shop wasn’t busy. The only customer was a tall cowboy, probably part of the Last Chance bunch, who had his back to her as he glanced through a selection of postcards on a rack near the door. Samantha, a fun-loving, curvaceous redhead, stood behind the jewelry counter at the far end of the store, and Elle headed in that direction.
“Hey, Elle! What’s up?” Samantha seemed eager for company.
“I need something pretty for my cousin Jill. A necklace, maybe. She likes turquoise, but she also likes nature-themed stuff, like wolves and—”
“My God, it’s you! I recognize your voice!”
She whirled toward the speaker. The tall cowboy who’d been shopping for postcards stood at the end of the jewelry counter staring at her as if he’d seen a ghost. One glance into his brown eyes and she knew why.
Trey Wheeler looked completely recovered and perfectly healthy. He also was as drop-dead gorgeous as she’d remembered. Like most cowboys, he wore his hat indoors, the brim pulled down a bit so it shadowed his eyes and gave him an air of mystery. He’d also left on his sheepskin jacket, but he’d unbuttoned it, which provided a glimpse of his physique.
The guy was built like a defensive end—slim hips, broad shoulders, powerful chest. She wondered if he was still hung up on Cassie, the woman he’d called out for at the hospital, the woman he’d begged not to leave him.
He swallowed. “So you’re real, after all.” His voice was husky with emotion.
“Did you think I wasn’t?” Then she considered what shape he’d been in after the accident. He’d suffered from exposure and a concussion. He might have thought she was a hallucination.
Samantha spoke up from behind the counter. “Could one of you fill me in? Sounds like there’s a story here.”
Elle turned to her. “This gentleman flipped his Jeep into a snowbank last April, and I took him to the hospital.”
“Then you disappeared,” Trey added. “I’ve been searching for you ever since. Where did you go?”
“Argentina.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You live there?”
“Six months out of the year, starting in April. Then I’m here for six months. I’m a ski instructor.”
He nodded slowly, as if fitting the pieces together. “That explains why I didn’t run into you around town. But I wish you’d left your name and contact information. You saved my life. I wanted to show my appreciation for that.”
“Wow, Elle.” Samantha gazed at her. “You’re just like the Lone Ranger!”
“My thoughts exactly.” Trey seemed to have recovered his poise. He walked forward and held out his hand. “But now that you’re unmasked, allow me to introduce myself.”
She knew his name, but didn’t want him to know that she knew, so she kept quiet.
“I’m Trey Wheeler, horse trainer out at the Last Chance, and I’m exceedingly grateful for what you did.”
She grasped his large hand. His grip was firm, warm, and...sexy. Tingles of awareness shot through her. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I happened along.”
She tried to extract her hand, but he held it captive as he smiled down at her. “Not so fast. I still don’t know your name.”
“Elle Masterson.” The continued physical contact jacked up her heart rate.
“Nice to meet you at last, Elle. Buying you dinner doesn’t seem like much of a payback, but it’s a beginning. Are you busy tonight?”
She scrambled to get her bearings. Trey Wheeler was a fast mover. She should have anticipated such an invitation, but she hadn’t. “Sorry, but I make it a policy not to date resort guests.” She smiled to take the sting out of the rejection.
“I get that, but this isn’t a date. It’s a thank-you dinner for saving my life. That’s significantly more important than a date.”
“So you’ll take me to dinner and consider your obligation to me fully satisfied?”
He grinned. “I didn’t say that.”
Her heartbeat ratcheted up another notch. He had a killer smile going on, and he was employing it to maximum effect. He seemed determined to charm her, and he was accomplishing his goal.
But she followed her personal rule about not dating guests for many reasons. All sorts of complications could arise, including getting fired for unprofessional conduct. Every resort she’d worked for had agreed it was a good policy, although some were more relaxed about the issue than others.
And even if she didn’t have a strict policy against dating guests, she’d be wary of dating this one. Catching a guy on the rebound wasn’t her idea of fun. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Trey, but dinner isn’t a good idea. I understand that you want to thank me in some way, but anyone would have done the same under similar circumstances. Your gratitude is very sweet, but you don’t owe me for doing the right thing.”
“I think I do, but if dinner won’t work, I’ll come up with something else.”
“No, really. That’s unnecessary. Knowing that you’re all recovered is enough of a reward for me.”
His brown gaze was warm as it swept over her. “I admire your modesty, but this is important to me, and I’m not the kind of man to just let it go. You’ll be hearing from me. See you later, Elle.” He touched the brim of his hat and walked out of the shop.
She stared after him, her pulse hopping around like a Mexican jumping bean.
“You should have accepted his invitation to dinner,” Samantha said.
Elle turned. “You know I don’t believe in getting cozy with a guest.”
“Yeah, but he has a point about the special circumstances. Besides, not many guests look like him. He’s one hot cowboy. I say he’s worthy of a little rule-bending.”
“Let’s think about this for a minute, Sam. He’s not simply a guest. He works at a ranch in the area, which means he won’t be completely gone come Tuesday afternoon.”
“Even better! Then he’ll stop being the kind of conflict of interest that bothers you so much.”
“No, but...” Elle felt ridiculous putting her reservations about Trey into words. She’d sound paranoid, or at least presumptuous. She didn’t know him at all, so she couldn’t predict how he’d behave in a relationship.
Yet she’d heard his heartbroken plea to Cassie, obviously his former lover. Cassie might be old news by now, but Trey didn’t strike her as the type who’d be fine with dating a woman who spent half the year in Argentina. He seemed too intense for a casual affair.
Casual affairs were all she allowed herself because she had such a great life following the snow. She didn’t want to tie herself down to one place or one man. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe in a few years she’d grow tired of the traveling. At that point, someone like Trey would be a possibility. But he wasn’t right for her now, no matter how fast her heart beat when he was near.
Samantha frowned in obvious disapproval. “I know what it means when you tighten your jaw. You’re going to reject this yummy man’s advances, aren’t you?”
Elle consciously relaxed her jaw and smiled at Sam. “Yep. But you’re welcome to him, if he appeals to you that much.”
“Oh, he does, but I don’t stand a chance. He only has eyes for you.”
“That’s silly.”
“No, it’s incredibly romantic. Did you hear what he said? He recognized your voice. That means he carried the sound of your voice around in his head for months while he searched for you. The memory of you haunted him. How great is that?”
Elle rolled her eyes. “You really should ask him out. You’re obviously into his brand of drama.”
“You should be, too. A Prince Charming like him doesn’t come along every day of the week. You may look back on this later and realize you screwed up a golden opportunity.”
“Maybe I will, Sam, but the timing is way off.” She gazed at her frien
d. “He may be a prince, but I’m not ready for a fairy-tale ending.”
2
TREY ENJOYED A rowdy dinner with everyone from the Last Chance, including the prospective bride and groom. Once Trey understood the layout of the resort, he realized that his spur-of-the-moment invitation to Elle might have been impractical. The formal dining room had been appropriated for Last Chance people, which left the coffee shop and the bar for private meals. Neither of those places suited Trey’s image of treating Elle to a special dining experience.
During dinner, the hotel manager passed around sign-up sheets for resort activities. Trey had never skied a day in his life, but he signed up for lessons when he saw that Elle was listed as one of the instructors.
For eight months she’d been a mystery woman he couldn’t forget, but other than her voice, her eyes and that halo of blond hair, he’d known nothing about her. She could have been a teenager or a senior citizen, short or tall, plump or skinny, plain or pretty.
And now he knew. She took his breath away. How amazing to think that Pam and Emmett’s wedding had brought him face-to-face with Elle Masterson, his angel. Hearing her voice had been a jolt. Seeing her standing there in all her glory had made him feel as if Christmas had come early this year.
Oh, yeah, he wanted to get to know her better. He thought she might want the same thing. Her blue eyes had sparkled with interest when she’d looked at him, so even though she’d thrown up roadblocks, he would persevere. That flash of sexual attraction had been decidedly mutual.
He understood why she’d be wary of getting involved with a resort guest, but he’d only be in that category for a few days. If he laid the groundwork now, he could build on it later, when he was no longer a guest.
Something had clicked for him the moment he’d rounded that corner in the gift shop and laid eyes on her. She might think coincidence had made her drive past where he’d swerved off the road, but now that they’d met, he wouldn’t call it coincidence. He’d call it destiny.
After dinner, he and Watkins checked out the wedding ceremony venue, a large space with exposed beams and warm wood paneling. In daylight, when the ceremony would take place, the curtained windows would look out on pines and ski slopes. The candlelit reception in the evening was scheduled for the adjoining ballroom. Trey and Watkins would play then, too.
“It’ll be real nice,” Watkins said, looking around the room where the wedding would take place. “The acoustics should be decent, too. I’m glad they carpeted the floor.”
“Did you want to practice tonight?”
“Nah, let’s not.” Watkins smoothed his handlebar mustache. “There’s a country-and-western band playing in the bar, and Mary Lou wants to dance. She doesn’t get to do that whenever I’m playing, so this will be a treat for both of us. She’s probably already in the bar ready to boot scoot.”
“Before you go, I wanted to tell you something.”
Watkins, who was a good six inches shorter than Trey and at least fifty pounds heavier, glanced up at him. “What’s that, son?”
Trey liked that Watkins called him “son.” Trey’s folks were both gone, his mom from cancer and his dad in an oil rig accident. Although Trey had come to grips with not having living parents, he reveled in the family atmosphere of the Last Chance and appreciated how Watkins and Mary Lou had taken him under their wing.
“I’ve found her,” he said. “My angel. She works at the resort.”
“No kidding!”
“She’s one of the ski instructors, and her name is Elle Masterson.”
“Well, I’ll be.” Watkins stroked his mustache again. “What’s she like?”
“Perfect.”
“Hold on there, cowboy. No woman’s perfect. You know how I feel about Lou-Lou, but I’d be the first to admit she’s not perfect. Don’t go setting some lady on a pedestal. You’ll regret it.”
“You’re right.” Privately, Trey didn’t think so. “But Elle is darned close. And she likes me. I can tell she does.”
“Then why didn’t she identify herself when she hauled your ass to the hospital? Something’s not adding up here.”
“I know, and I mean to get to the bottom of that. But the main issue is her principles. She doesn’t believe resort employees should get involved with resort guests.”
Watkins nodded. “She must be a sensible woman, then. You can’t have that kind of thing in a fancy establishment like this. You need to respect her wishes on that.”
“I will. And I do. But don’t you think this is a special case? She saved my life. And she likes me. I hate to waste time on rules and regulations in this situation.”
Watkins smiled. “You’re talking about four days, right?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“It’s not a long time, son. I know at your age it seems forever, but trust me, those four days will go by fast.”
“I suppose.” Once again, Trey didn’t agree with Watkins. After eight months of searching for his mystery woman, he’d finally found her, and she was wonderful. He was eager to explore the possibilities, and they’d both be staying under the same roof, so to speak. He couldn’t imagine how time spent that way would go by fast.
“You don’t believe me.” Watkins clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s okay. But don’t go back to your room and stare at the ceiling all night. Get your guitar and come down for a drink. I know these guys who are playing, and they’d probably let you sit in on a set or two. It’ll be good practice.”
“Sure, why not?” Given that his hands were tied when it came to Elle, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the evening.
* * *
AFTER A QUICK supper in the employees’ dining room, Elle climbed the stairs to her room on the second floor of the staff’s quarters. A printout of the next day’s schedule had been left on her desk, and she picked it up. No big surprise, Trey had registered for her group lesson first thing in the morning.
She was one of three ski instructors employed by Serenity, but Annalise had been given the weekend off because these guests wouldn’t need advanced lessons. Elle and her colleague Jared could handle the Last Chance group, who were mostly all beginners.
Switching Trey to Jared’s group would make an issue out of the situation, so she’d leave the schedule as it was. But she had to smile when she noticed that Jared had all women except for a guy named Watkins, and she had all men.
Besides Trey, Elle would be working with Alex Keller, Nash Bledsoe, Jeb Branford and two of the Chance brothers, Gabe and Nick. Elle hadn’t met any of them, although she certainly recognized the names of the Chance boys. There was a third brother, Jack, but apparently he wasn’t into skiing lessons.
All the men except Alex Keller had checked the beginner box on the sign-up sheet. Alex had checked the box indicating he had some experience, which meant he might be willing to help the others. All in all, it should be a fun morning. She loved taking nonskiers and turning them into enthusiastic fans of the sport.
As she considered whether to hit the sack early to be ready for tomorrow’s activities, her cell phone chimed. For some reason, Amy, the bartender on duty tonight, was calling her. Elle picked up her phone. “Hey, Amy.”
“Unless you’re in your jammies already, you should get yourself down here.”
“I was almost in my jammies. What’s happening?”
“One of the guys from the Last Chance is performing with the band and he is hot. I know you’re a country fan. Come down and I’ll put you to work behind the bar so you’ll have an excuse to hang around.”
Elle had become enamored of country music in the past year, and hearing it live was always a treat. Besides, she didn’t feel tired enough to go to bed yet. “Thanks, I’ll be right there.” Disconnecting the phone, she ran a comb through her hair, reapplied her lipstick, popped a mint and
grabbed her room key. She’d helped Amy behind the bar a few times before, and she liked the job.
On her way downstairs, she breathed in the scent of Christmas. Serenity went all-out this time of year, and she liked spending the holidays here. Each guest room door had its own fresh wreath, complete with a couple of cinnamon sticks tucked into a big red bow.
Staff members didn’t get wreaths, but they were all given small trees to decorate. Hers was sitting in a corner of her room, waiting for her to get busy with lights and ornaments. Until she did, she could enjoy the fifteen-foot blue spruce in the lobby, which sparkled with lights and elegant glass balls. Pine boughs, pinecones and festive ribbons decorated the check-in desk.
The bar opened off the lobby, so the music drifted toward her as she walked past the Christmas tree toward the heavy double doors inset with stained glass. Someone was singing in a husky baritone that tickled her nerve endings.
“Going in to hear our new star?” called Ralph from the front desk.
“Yeah, I’m told he’s pretty good. Amy is letting me help behind the bar.”
Ralph laughed. “Have fun. The women tell me he looks pretty good, too.”
“I’m just here for the music, Ralph.”
“That’s what they all say.”
As Elle grasped the brass handle and opened the door, she had a premonition about who this sexy country singer might be, but she discounted it. The universe wouldn’t be so generous as to give the bodacious Trey Wheeler a great singing voice, too.
Obviously the universe was exactly that generous. Sitting on a stool in front of the mike, strumming his guitar and crooning a solo love song, was the man she was determined to avoid, the man every woman in the room was fixated on. The rest of the band was silent, not that they would have been noticed if they had decided to play backup.
Trey’s face was shielded by the lowered brim of his hat, and he seemed completely absorbed in his music. He cradled the guitar in his lap. One booted foot rested on the floor and the other was propped on a rung of the stool. His supple fingers moved up and down the guitar’s polished neck in a sensuous dance as his voice flowed over her, intimate as a caress.
Cowboys & Angels Page 2
