That’s when she gave him the final gift of the night. “I love you,” she murmured against his throat.
He sucked in a long breath, an action that put more pressure on his already-aching chest. “I know,” he said. “I know it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE NEXT MORNING, Angelica learned they were going to pretend she’d never spoken those three words. That was fine with her. She hadn’t meant to let them loose, of course. Trailing in Brett’s footsteps, following the flashlight he was using to light the way in the darkness just before dawn, she hunched her shoulders for warmth.
It would have been better to awaken alone. But instead, it was obvious he’d spent the night once again on her couch after tucking her into her bed. She’d smelled coffee and so she’d decided to get up and face the music—which turned out to be silent—so that afterward she could tick off another of the items on her goodbye checklist.
Seeing the sun rise from the Walkers’ mountain.
When she’d mentioned her goal to Brett while they were sipping coffee and she couldn’t stand the quiet in the cabin, he’d grunted then told her he’d lead the way.
Her pride had demanded she didn’t make some excuse or refuse his company.
She loved him. He knew. Big whoop. The world was full of sad stories like hers. But she’d survive. She knew that now, thanks to her time in Blue Arrow. She had bootstraps and she knew how to pull them up.
People didn’t die of broken hearts.
Though thinking of never seeing Brett again made it hard for her to breathe.
Ahead, he halted as he crested a knoll. She joined him, following his pointed finger toward the east. Another, taller range of mountains stood there, looking as if it was torn from dark construction paper, then pasted against the silvering sky.
“Keep your eyes on that saddle,” Brett said, indicating a low dip. “The sun will rise right there.”
She could see the barest glimmer of it, an edge of gold warming the black-and-gray predawn. It washed the underside of the flat-bottomed clouds, making them glow like she thought an angel’s wings might.
Change came rapidly after that, pale gold giving way to a deeper orange that washed the sky in tones from petal pink to the full red of robust passion. It was what had happened to her, she thought. At first there had been that golden promise of her fascination with Brett. Then it had risen, expanded and ultimately changed her entire interior landscape.
“Look there,” he said now, in hushed tones. “Below.”
A small lake in the cleft between two jagged peaks had caught the light. An unexpected gold coin, waiting to be plucked by a giant hand. Angelica’s breath caught, awed by the beauty and the poignancy of this moment.
This goodbye. Because if he didn’t return her feelings, couldn’t return her feelings, she had to leave.
Brett lifted the binoculars he’d hung around his neck—the antique pair Poppy had given him. His strong hands framed them, but his touch was delicate as he made the proper adjustments. Then he passed them to her.
She had to crowd close because of the leather strap still circling his neck. Once again following his direction, she aimed them downward, and caught sight of a deer picking its way through the dried grasses.
“So pretty,” she whispered, supremely aware of the warmth of him at her side and back. “How very beautiful this all is.”
“Yes,” he said. “Even more so through your eyes.”
Stepping away, she returned the binoculars. He brought them to his face to scan the surroundings.
“You should put your lodge right here,” she said.
His brows rose as he let the device drop. “As a matter of fact, this was the very place we planned to build it.”
“Then do it. Really put down roots.”
He glanced over, letting the device drop. “Really put down roots? I’m a landscaper. I do that every day.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You tend things, not create them. Didn’t you tell me you rearrange gardens all the time in your head?”
“Those gardens belong to other people. I do what they want.”
“This could be what you want,” she said, indicating their surroundings with a circling hand.
“Too risky.”
Angelica was feeling anxious and brave and excited, all three at once. “Take a chance,” she urged. “Put your dream on the line.”
His expression let her know he was closing down. Her pulse began racing and she thought, You should put your dream on the line, too. She obeyed the sudden impulse. “Tell me to stay, Brett.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Tell me to stay. Tell me you want me to stay.”
His gaze shifted away from her.
“When I drove back to the cabins yesterday evening, I’d decided not to take the job. I’d decided to go down the hill.”
Though the atmosphere between them was suddenly charged with tension, he didn’t break his silence.
“You really want me to go?” She tried to keep her voice even. “Then say that.”
“I...” He shook his head. “Angelica...”
“I’m in love with you,” she declared.
He winced. “That’s because last night was...good.”
“Don’t dismiss my feelings as pillow talk.” Take the risk, her inner voice urged. She glanced around at the grandeur of the mountains and the sky and that still-glowing golden lake and took strength from it. “Brett...”
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice edged with impatience.
“I want you to love me.” She hauled in a breath. “Do that. Love me back.”
His whole body flinched as if she’d slapped him. Then he spun away from her, presenting her with the rigid line of his spine and the stiff set of his shoulders. “I told you. I can’t. I won’t.”
“Brett...” It sounded like a plea.
“Don’t you listen?” he asked harshly. “I don’t have it in me.”
And at the bitter finality of his words, her heart seemed to tumble out of her chest. But she guessed that made sense, as she rubbed at the aching emptiness there. Because she was leaving it behind.
“Goodbye, Brett,” she whispered.
Then she turned, and left Brett behind, too.
* * *
WITHIN TWENTY MINUTES Angelica was driving away from the cabins, heading for her flatland life. It was still early when she neared the village, and the parking lot at Hallett Hardware was empty. Once Hank or Glory arrived, she’d go inside and tender her resignation. She was sure they’d understand.
For a moment she allowed herself to think of what Brett was doing. Had he continued hiking on the mountain? Was he back at the cabins and now aware she was truly gone? Angelica could see in her mind’s eye his big hands cradling the binoculars just like they’d once cradled her face, with both power and gentleness.
An aching loneliness tried descending, and she pushed it away by thinking of other things...and yet her mind circled back around to Blue Arrow. So much she would likely never know about the people there.
Would the Walker weddings happen without a hitch? She thought so.
How about Mac? Would she find resolution for her feelings for Zan Elliott?
And the cabins...would Poppy make a go of them?
Then there was the mystery of who was behind the burglaries. She mused over the items that had been taken, feeling a little more melancholy. Via the silent auction, she’d helped many unique articles find good homes and now they’d gone missing. Stu had told her the last theft had likely only involved cash and some jewelry.
Vaughn, however, had reported to Brett that a first edition of The Call of the Wild, which Angelica knew was from the Elliott estate, had also been stolen. She frowned. Was it weird that Vaughn had more information?
At least Brett hadn’t lost his binoculars—they hadn’t been at his cabin when the intruder or intruders had been in his place.
Full circle, Angelica thought on a sigh.
Brett.
He was so closed off. Could she blame him? Burned by the girl who once had him arrested, wounded by his war experience, betrayed by a lover in a way that left him scarred.
It didn’t leave a woman with any choice but to walk away from him.
That’s what the bikini girl had done. Lorraine Kushi.
Angelica Rodriguez.
Damn. She slapped the steering wheel, and then stared out the windshield, unseeing. Leaving him made her like the others.
And if she was so willing to give up after round one, then she was unworthy of him. Unworthy of her new resolve to take charge of her own life. To go after what she wanted instead of waiting around for someone else’s approval.
Hands shaking, Angelica turned the key in the ignition and turned the car in the direction of the Walker cabins.
* * *
BRETT GRAPPLED WITH the intruder, battling a red-hot rage and a deep sense of urgency. In a rush to get his keys so he could stop Angelica from leaving the mountains, he’d been completely surprised when a man had jumped on his back when he’d entered his cabin. The guy had him in a grisly hold.
But he had to get to the girl. The thought of missing her, of her slipping out of his town and out of his reach, galvanized him.
With a grunt, he broke the guy’s grip by throwing open his arms. The interloper fell back, and Brett whirled around to confront him, fists up.
Only to see it was Vaughn Elliott who leaped to his feet, his face red and his blond hair disheveled and sweaty looking. Brett gaped. “What the hell—”
The door swung open. Angelica stepped inside.
Being closer, Vaughn was able to reach out and grab her. He yanked the startled woman in front of him.
Holding his hands at chest level, Brett gave Angelica a quick assessing glance, then focused on the other man. “What’s going on, Vaughn?” There was a light in the asshole’s eyes that didn’t look altogether right.
“There’s been a mistake,” the man said, panting.
“We can fix mistakes,” Brett said, in a calm voice. “Why don’t you let Angelica go, and you and I will find a solution.”
Vaughn glanced at the woman he held in a tight grip. “Angelica,” he said, as if noticing it was her for the first time. “I can trade her for the list.”
“The list?” Would Vaughn have a weapon? Brett thought, trying to decide. As a sheriff’s department volunteer he wasn’t issued one, but it would be no surprise if he owned a gun.
“The list of people who bought items from the Elliott estate at the silent auction.” Angelica said. She sounded calm, too.
“Those things should have gone to me.” Vaughn’s tone was belligerent. “My grandfather left the money and the house to Zan. I should at least have been willed the contents of the place.”
“That seems fair,” Angelica mused.
Fair? Brett telegraphed orders to her. Keep quiet. Don’t attract his attention.
As usual, they could communicate with a look. I’m okay, she said back. Follow my lead.
Then her mouth moved and he could read her lips. “Trust me.”
“Here’s what we can do, Vaughn,” she continued. “I happen to have just learned the password to the historical society database.”
“I thought you didn’t know it,” he said, frowning down at her.
“And I didn’t. But Ruth needed me to do something new with the members section and gave it to me.” Her expression was guileless. “Yesterday.”
“So...” Vaughn drew out the word.
“So you and I could—”
“No!” Brett interjected, his body going cold.
Angelica shot him a quelling look and continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “You and I could take a drive to the headquarters and I can print out the list for you there. I have the keys to the front door.”
“Why would you do that?” the other man asked, suspicious.
“She wouldn’t,” Brett said.
Angelica rolled her eyes at him. Yeah, yeah, his remarks were agitating Vaughn, but there was no way he was going to let her leave with him. “Listen, Elliott,” he said. “That’s the love of my life you’re holding there, and it’s making me twitchy.”
Vaughn seemed surprised by the bald announcement. His head jerked back. “Brett Walker, finally settling down?”
“Absolutely. So let go of the girl.”
“She’s got to do something for me first,” Vaughn insisted. “The list.”
“It won’t take a lot of time,” Angelica put in brightly. “I’ll do this little favor for Vaughn and then we’ll continue on with our plans for the day—”
“Vegas. We’re getting married in Vegas this afternoon.”
Angelica’s eyes rounded. “Um—”
“You remember, honey—you don’t want to be stuck wearing something itchy or ugly. In Vegas you can get married in sweatpants.”
“Sweatpants!” There was outrage in her voice. “I’m not getting married in sweatpants.”
The conversation was clearly confusing Vaughn, who somewhere along the line had gone round the bend from arrogant asshole to irrational idiot. But his hold on Angelica was still strong and there was the niggling question of concealed weapons.
“No sweatpants, then. I don’t care what you wear as long as you’re my wife by the end of the day, angel face.”
Her smile looked more strained now. “Sure. Anything you say, sweetums. Let me do this with Vaughn first, though.”
Sweetums. She was going to pay for that later. Brett pasted a put-upon expression on his face and let out a long sigh. “Well, all right. You can run this errand if it’s not going to take very long.”
“Good,” Vaughn said.
Keeping his pose relaxed, Brett sidled over to put himself between the pair and the door. “A quick trip now.”
Vaughn shot him an impatient look and stepped forward, still holding Angelica. “Let’s go.”
As if he’d let that happen. Brett shot out his hand and wrenched her from the other man’s grip at the same time his fist came up with an uppercut to Vaughn’s jaw. The man stumbled back, and Brett shoved her behind him and moved in on the dazed would-be robber.
It was over in seconds.
Brett and Angelica stood over the moaning figure. Brett had fished a gun from the back of the guy’s waistband. It looked to be an antique. She glanced at it and then up at him. “Is this where I say ‘my hero’?”
“You were the one directing the show. I followed your lead.”
“Not at first. Not at the last, either.”
“Did you think I would really let you walk out of here and drive into town with that SOB?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking exactly.”
He ran a hand down the back of her hair. “Had you figured out he was the burglar?”
“I was just putting it together this morning. When I saw him...I knew I was right.”
“He was here for my binoculars, I’m guessing,” Brett said, moving to retrieve them from the floor, where they’d gotten lost in the scuffle. “They fell from my hands when he jumped me.”
“What do we do now?” Angelica asked. “Tie him up and drive him to the sheriff? We don’t have any cell coverage to make a call.”
“Tie him up here, then call the sheriff from the road, once we have some reception.”
Clearly puzzled, Angelica studied his face. “The road? Are we going for coffee? I could use some Oscar’s caffeine.”
“We’re going for happy-ever-after,” Brett said, pulling her into his arms. “I wasn’t kidding about that Vegas wedding this afternoon.”
She went still, her brown eyes bigger than ever.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not letting you get away from me. When you left me on the mountain...God, I couldn’t imagine what I was going to do without you. At the idea of it, I felt like the sun and the moon and the stars had left the sky. The lakes were drained dry. I’m in love with you, Angelica.”
&nb
sp; “I thought... I thought...”
“You should think I’m an idiot because I’ve resisted you for too damn long.”
“You didn’t want to love me,” she said, the slightest tremble in her voice.
“Because I thought I would lose you,” he said. “But now I’ve figured out that I just need to hold on—and then you’ll hold me back.”
Her whole body trembled now. “You trust me.”
“And you trust me.”
In a flurry of movement, she stepped near and pressed her face into the cup of his shoulder, where she fit as if she were made for him. “I wasn’t giving up on you,” she told his flannel shirt.
Sliding his arms beneath her perfect ass, he boosted her up so they were face-to-face. “I promise to never make you contemplate the thought again.”
She gave him that sunny smile of hers and it struck him like a blow, shattering any remnants of the guard around his heart. He could feel the organ pounding in his chest, sending the blood rushing through his body, bringing him to life, filling him with elation and a new vision of the future.
Making him soft, but he didn’t worry about that, because it made him worthy of this warm, beautiful woman and the happiness they’d find together.
Who was the cockeyed optimist in the Walker family now?
“Angelica Walker,” he whispered. “What do you think about that...and what do you think about a Vegas wedding?”
There were tears in her eyes. “Not in sweatpants.”
“But this afternoon.”
“Really?” She swallowed. “How will we get your family—”
“Just you and me,” he said. “We can do something else later, if you’d like.”
“They’re going to be mad,” she warned.
“No, they won’t,” he said. “Because they’ll be so happy we all get you.”
* * *
ANGELICA WAS UNSURPRISED that her new husband had underestimated the peevishness of Poppy, Shay and Mac. But he shrugged off their complaints and she attempted to distract them with their other big news: upon leaving the wedding chapel at their chosen casino, he’d stuck a dollar in a slot machine—I’m feeling lucky, he’d said—and won nearly one hundred thousand dollars.
Can't Fight This Feeling (Cabin Fever) Page 31
