“I can’t know for certain what Marlowe intended, but for me it means I believe we can find this magic we have in the mountains anywhere we go. Anywhere we go together.”
“Say it again,” Glory whispered.
He framed her face with his hands. “Come live with me and be my love.”
“What’s going on here?” a blustering voice demanded.
Glory tried to spring away, but Kyle didn’t let her get far. Holding her hand, he turned them both toward the back room’s doorway, now filled by her father and mother.
“Don’t be like that, Hank,” her mother said. “Ask her about the ten other jobs.”
Glory blanched. “You heard that?”
“And everything else this snake-oil salesman of a young man said,” her father added.
“Hank.” Her mother tugged at his sleeve. “Really.”
Her father stepped farther into the room, her mother at his elbow. “I’ll ask again. What’s going on?”
Suddenly the back room was a metaphor for her life. It was cramped and too familiar and filled with some things she loved and some she didn’t... Hello? Who cared about aphid dust? Her parents stood, guarding the exit point. Loving guards, but guards all the same.
Doubts crowded in, too, but then she looked over at Kyle and made a decision. Glory Hallett, mountain girl and tough tomboy who knew how to fix toilets and mend fences, was acutely aware she was about to fracture a relationship. Then her emotional pipe burst, tears overflowing as she ended one life and began another.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ANGELICA STEPPED ABOARD the Arrow Ferry, a tour boat that gave tourists hour-long rides about Blue Arrow Lake. It offered a great vantage point from which to view the luxurious mansions and gated estates that the general public wouldn’t have access to otherwise. But Angelica wouldn’t be scouting out fancy homes to ogle.
Once again, she was looking for a sign.
Seating herself on one of the vinyl cushions, she peered out a long window. Should I stay or should I go?
She had the means to stay in the mountains now. Or, at least, an offer that would lead to the means.
“Hey,” a male voice said. Friendly, like a puppy. “How are you? Angel, right?”
She looked up, smiling at Stu Christianson. “Angelica.”
“Oh, yeah.” His sweatshirt was embroidered with the ferry logo and beneath it was his name and “Captain.”
“This is yours?” Angelica asked, gesturing at the boat’s interior. It was filled with less than a dozen people.
“Family thing,” he said. “As soon as the snows come, we shut this down and go to work higher up the mountains at one of the ski resorts.”
Winter’s on its way.
The sound of the engines shifting gears had Stu pressing two fingers to his forehead in a farewell salute. “Give Glory my best,” he said with another attractive grin.
She wondered if Stu would still be smiling when he heard the news. Glory was going down the hill with Kyle Scott. Angelica’s mouth curved as she thought of the scene she’d left behind at Hallett Hardware. Upon meeting Kyle and hearing Glory’s stated intention, Hank had looked ready to blow, and Katie had appeared concerned about the sudden decision, too.
But then their daughter had calmed them both.
She’d reminded her mother how man-made Lake Arthur had filled in three days instead of the expected three years—whatever that meant.
And she’d told her father it was past time he gave up all this retirement baloney and busied himself with what he loved best—running the hardware store.
Then Hank and Katie had put their heads together. The thing was, Katie had her heart set on taking some trips now and then. And Hank enjoyed his newfound opportunity to play a round of golf or two on occasion. What they needed, they decided, was a store manager, who would do all the day-to-day activities but still with Hallett input on a regular basis.
They’d offered Angelica the position.
The pay wasn’t a fortune, but she wasn’t looking for riches. She was looking for a place to stay. A place to call her own. And she loved the mountains and the community here. She loved working in the shop, of all things, because it required organization, and financial skills, and the ability to connect with people. Rolled them together into one job and she’d found her bliss.
Though the ferry rocked a bit as it churned through the water, Angelica braved the unsteady movement to cross the aisle and take a different seat for a different view. The boat swung into one of the lake’s many bays and Angelica recognized the house where she’d spent the summer, mostly alone. Almost useless. Always mooning after the landscaper.
The place looked empty and idle, just as she’d been during those months.
Her gaze moved from the house to the mountains above, rising in uneven, ever-steepening tiers that went from bristling with green to naked gray granite. There was solidity and strength, both things she’d gained once she’d decided to forge her own path.
You for damn sure should love yourself, Angelica Rodriguez.
“So, what brings you out for a ride?”
Stu again. Angelica glanced up at him. “Part of my checklist,” she told him. Maybe her goodbye checklist...or maybe not now. “Things I want to do while I’m here.”
“I thought from the way you were staring out to the shore you were seeking signs of our local burglary ring.”
Angelica grimaced. She and Brett had reported the activity at the cabins, but it hadn’t seemed to impress law enforcement much. “Maybe the problems will die down with the colder weather.”
“More stuff went missing last night,” Stu said. “My uncle works for the sheriff’s department. I got a rundown on what was taken...though we won’t know for certain until he gets an inventory from the owners who are in Europe. But some drawers were rifled, so likely just cash and jewelry.”
“That’s too bad.” But maybe now the cabins were safe, at least, considering the bad guy or guys would also have discovered that there was nothing to be had out there but clothes and canned food.
“Good news, though,” Stu said, smiling again. “That stuffed bear is back. Found tied to the flagpole at the high school.”
“Piney!” Angelica’s spirits lifted. “Our Piney from the historical society?”
“The one and only.” Someone called his name and Stu glanced around, muttered a “gotta go” and strode off.
Piney, home safe and sound. Was this her sign?
But it didn’t feel quite right, so Angelica was still in a quandary as she debarked, waving at Stu as she returned to land. Should she stay or should she go?
She strolled the main street of the village as she returned to her car. Dusk was cooling the air and she pushed her hands into the kangaroo pouch of her wool sweater. Passing the elegant boutique, Bon Nuit, she was startled by the sound of knocking on the plate glass. Her head jerked and she saw Mac Walker inside, gesturing for Angelica to join her.
Why not? she decided. Maybe she could find a going-away gift for Glory. Something slinky to make up for the flannel gown her mother had given her.
Mac offered her a wide smile when she walked inside. “I heard the news,” she said. “Congratulations.”
Angelica’s brows lifted. “News?”
“Hallett Hardware’s new manager,” she said, lifting her hands toward Angelica as if she were presenting a celebrity.
“Oh.” She grimaced. “It’s not official...or even decided.”
“I stopped in to see Glory and it seemed pretty decided to me. She is gaga over that guy. Going down the hill for him.” She grimaced.
“The guy is Kyle Scott.” She had to smile at Mac. “But ‘going down the hill’ is not exactly like going to the other side of the world.”
“We’ll make sure she gets her malaria shots anyway,” Mac said, laughing. Then she sobered. “I guess Maids by Mac will be short a maid again.”
“One way or another,” Angelica agreed. She began perusing a rack of
racy lingerie.
“Who’s that for?” Mac asked, her voice sly.
“Glory.”
“Oh, come on.” The other woman nudged her with an elbow. “You and Brett...”
Angelica put her hand to her head as it started to pound. This was the issue. There was no Angelica and Brett. He didn’t want to be anyone’s “and.” Even if she could accept that, what would it be like to live in the same area, running into him at the hardware store or at Mr. Frank’s? It might not be so bad over the counter when he came in for fertilizer, but what about seeing him on the dance floor, snuggled up with some siren from down the hill?
“Hey, hey,” Mac said, patting her shoulder. “You look like you lost your last friend.”
“And Glory’s leaving,” Angelica whispered, the truth of that piercing deep. She looked at Mac. “That’s going to be hard.”
“I know it,” Mac said. “But when you need a girl for...well, whatever you need, I’ll be around.”
Angelica sniffed. “You’re nice.”
“I am not!” Mac countered. “I’m prickly. I cultivate that, you know.”
“I do.” Angelica pressed the back of her hand to her nose. “It’s not working that well right now.”
“Huh.” Mac looked about, then spotted a man just coming into the store. “Jimmy!”
He looked over. “Hey, Mac.”
She sidled close to him, shooting a mischievous glance Angelica’s way. “How are you?”
“Good?” He went wide-eyed as she began playing with his tie. “Jimmy, this is Angelica. Angelica, this is Jimmy Sheets. He works at the bank.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, barely lifting his gaze away from Mac’s hand, which he watched as if it was a live snake crawling up his chest.
“Would you like to go out with me sometime, Jimmy?” Mac asked in a sweet voice. She looked sweet, too, Angelica decided, unaccustomed to seeing her wearing anything other than her housekeeping uniform of jeans and sweatshirt. Now she had on black pants, black high-heeled boots and a fuzzy sweater the same pale blue as her eyes.
Poppy Walker was a daisy. Shay an elegant orchid. But Angelica realized that Mac was some other kind of beautiful hothouse flower...one that might just eat you alive.
“Go out?” Jimmy echoed, his voice rising an octave at the end.
“Yeah. We could have fun.”
“Fun?”
Mac shot Angelica another wicked glance. “Unless you’re afraid of me...”
“Hell, no,” Jimmy said, frowning. “I’m not afraid of you, Mac. I’m scared as hell of Zan Elliott. I heard the warning he gave as he drove out of town, and I heed it to this day.”
Mac froze. Then her hand fell away from Jimmy. “What?”
Now the man looked truly alarmed. “I gotta be on my way, Mac. See you!” Then he was gone.
“Are you all right?” Angelica asked. Mac remained in place, her color waning by the moment.
“That bastard,” she said, then pink washed up from her neck to her cheeks as her temper clearly kindled. “That ugly, smelly, conniving, rat bastard.”
She whirled toward Angelica. “I hate men. Do you hate men?”
Angelica tried valiantly to hold back her smile. “I sometimes want to hate men,” she said helpfully.
“That’s good enough for me,” Mac declared. “You and I...we’re going to own cats together.”
“I think I’m allergic,” Angelica lied, just to see what the other woman would do.
Mac’s blue eyes went icy as she narrowed them. “Are you laughing at me?”
“A little bit? But I sure appreciate the mood lifter.” She hesitated, then leaped into the fray. Mac had been a helping hand when she needed one. “What’s this about Zan and a warning?”
“It’s about him getting six feet under if he ever dares step foot in the mountains again,” Mac said grimly.
“Do you think he told the other guys you were...out of bounds?”
“That’s exactly what I think.” She sucked in air. “And he apparently also believed I would wait around like...like... Who was the chump who was married to Odysseus?”
“That would be Penelope.”
Mac’s hands curled into fists. “I have to go. I have a stack of postcards to burn.” Then it was her turn to exit the boutique.
Angelica had lost her taste for shopping and followed after her. She stood on the sidewalk, watching Mac stride off, anger in every step.
Maybe that was her sign. The frustration and the pain of Mac’s infatuation with Zan—because really, her feelings could be in no doubt—were evidence that Angelica should cut her losses when it came to Brett.
In his mind, she was already put in the “past and done” pile. They’d had sex a few times, but that was over and he’d moved on—she knew this, because though he’d slept on her couch after the intruder incident, he hadn’t touched her. Which meant the answer to the “should she stay or should she go” question was a simple, unequivocal go.
In her car, she drove slowly toward the cabins. Mac already expected her to be leaving Maids by Mac, so that was essentially a done deal. As for Hallett’s, tomorrow she’d let the family know her decision was to leave. She wasn’t expected until noon, but she’d go in earlier and explain in person. Hank had already voiced his intention to return to working regular shifts while a manager got up to speed, so there wouldn’t be an interruption in customer service.
They’d find someone to take her place.
Here she wasn’t indispensable to anyone.
Well, she wasn’t indispensable anywhere, but she could change that. She’d made an almost-place here and it was her choice to leave her job, her volunteer work at the historical society, the friends she was making.
You sure as hell should love yourself, Angelica Rodriguez.
Remembering that, she could make her way and make herself a home somewhere else.
Brett’s vehicle wasn’t in its usual parking place and his cabin was dark except for the single porch light. She refused to allow her imagination to conjure up what he might be doing and with whom. Instead, she parked her car and got out, breathing in the bracing mountain air. Strengthened by it, she marched up her steps and turned her key.
As the door swung open, she realized she wasn’t alone.
Her eyes widened. There was a table in front of the fireplace. It was covered by a cloth and set for two. Wax tapers flickered in candlesticks and embers glowed on the hearth. Brett Walker was standing nearby, a half smile on his face and a full bottle of champagne in his hand.
Over his head was a banner. It read Congratulations, New Mountaineer!
As he came forward, she couldn’t take her eyes off it. Even as he bent to kiss her cheek, she continued staring.
Was this the sign she’d been waiting for?
* * *
ANGELICA’S AWESTRUCK SURPRISE evaporated any embarrassment Brett might feel over the cheesy banner. Still, he jabbed a thumb toward it and said, “London’s idea.”
Big brown eyes shifted to his face. “Really?”
Angelica still appeared gobsmacked. It pleased him but also made him want to kick his own ass. Why hadn’t he thought to do something nice for her before? Christ, she’d shared her body with him while he hadn’t even bothered taking her out for a decent meal in the village.
“What is all this?” she asked, indicating the table, the fire, the champagne.
Which reminded him. He poured two glasses, handed her one. “To you,” he said, and the flutes rang out as the crystal kissed.
She took a sip, looked at the platter of cheese and crackers, then cast a glance toward the kitchen. “I smell something good.”
“We’ll get to that later.” He put a slice of cheese—the fancy stuff from the fancy cheese place—on a cracker and handed it to her. It made him pause a moment. His mother had always done that...served his father the first appetizer. He’d forgotten that.
Angelica put the small morsel into her mouth and closed her e
yes in appreciation as she chewed. Brett stared at the dark fan of her lashes, fascinated as he’d always been by the little, perfect details of her.
The tiny dot of a beauty mark high on one cheekbone.
The delicacy of her wrists.
The fragile frame of her collarbone.
The lushness of her lower lip.
Blood rushed south, his cock beginning to harden. When she opened her eyes, he half turned to study the flames, hoping she wouldn’t notice the heavy bulge in his jeans, and rebuked himself for being a randy jackass. This evening was supposed to be about giving her a gift of sorts. Doing something for her. Not doing her.
Those three words didn’t help, damn it. In his mind’s eye he saw her naked limbs, her golden skin washed by the light from the fire. He could taste her in his mouth, the sweetness of her kiss, and he wanted to sample her everywhere. Burying his mouth between her legs would be his first stop.
“Brett?”
He threw the entire glass of champagne down his throat, then cleared it. “Yeah?”
“I didn’t see your car.”
“Oh. That.” This was kind of embarrassing, too, come to think of it. “I wanted to surprise you...so I parked it down the road a ways instead of up here.”
“You went to a lot of trouble.”
“I had help,” he admitted, turning back to grab the champagne. He refilled his, and then topped off her glass. But he’d taken it, the help, the moment the inspiration had struck. “It was Poppy who gave me the news about the manager position.”
“Poppy?”
“Sweetheart, surely you understand the speed of the mountain grapevine by now.” He told her about rendezvousing with his sister to get the binoculars. London and Mace had been along for the ride. They’d all been standing on the sidewalk in the village when she’d dropped the info.
It was only a small leap from him audibly mulling over providing some kind of celebration and his sister recommending a local caterer to put together dinner. An hour and two stops later—to said caterer and then to the print shop—and he’d been all set.
Can't Fight This Feeling (Cabin Fever) Page 29
