Finding Love In Big Sky, Montana (Resort to Love--Finding Love line Book 2)

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Finding Love In Big Sky, Montana (Resort to Love--Finding Love line Book 2) Page 18

by Angela Ruth Strong


  “If you don’t want to be a third wheel, Sam, you should try dating someone.” Josh didn’t acknowledge Sam’s insinuation. Which was good, right? Because it would hurt to have Josh dismiss the idea he had feelings for her. But she didn’t want him to think they had a chance, either. Did she? No. That’s why she’d avoided his earlier advances.

  But this was so much different than an advance. Her throat constricted as if having trouble swallowing the idea.

  “Pshaw.” Sam kicked his feet back up on the couch to lie down again. “Right.”

  Footsteps. Josh was moving. Her mind blurred like the television screen during a snowstorm. Was he coming closer? Would she have to look at him in a moment? Feel his presence?

  The footsteps carried him to the kitchen. Her body relaxed. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been. Maybe she needed to relax even more. She could say her body ached from the day and escape to a bubble bath. She really did ache but not the kind of ache that came from manual labor where it hurt to move a leg, or where her fingers stung from squeezing a shovel handle for too long. No, this was an ache that started inside her bones. Every bone.

  “I’ll check ticket sales.” Josh’s deep voice kept her in place.

  She wanted to know if the news broadcast had affected ticket sales. And she wanted to hear his voice again. She sat as still as she could so she wouldn’t miss anything he said.

  “Oh, Paisley.”

  What? She twisted from her perch on the sofa arm, but she couldn’t see him in the kitchen alcove. Why had he said her name like that? Was it only about tickets? Or could it be something else?

  “You have to see this.”

  Ticket sales? He couldn’t tell her? She had to go in there?

  She pushed to her feet. Ticket sales. She was going to look at a computer screen and talk about ticket sales.

  She walked gingerly as if testing out the ice on the pond. She could do this. She’d done it before.

  He stood over the computer, eyes on the screen.

  If he wasn’t looking at her, she had nothing to worry about. She should be looking at the computer, too, but as she wasn’t close enough to read the monitor, she let her gaze bounce back and forth between man and machine. “Is it good?”

  It had to be good. Otherwise he wouldn’t have called her in there. But good for the first day of sales on her first annual Cowboy Christmas Ball could be twenty-five people. They could have fun with twenty-five guests, couldn’t they? It would make winning items at the silent auction even easier. She’d need to give Dot and Annabel an idea of how many to expect for the food they were catering.

  Josh stepped to the side so she could get a better view of the computer screen. She couldn’t resist peeking up at him first.

  He beamed. The kind of beam she guessed he wore when getting the multi-million-dollar deal at Synergy Ad Agency. Was the news that good?

  She held her breath and read the numbers on the screen. “Five hundred?” She couldn’t have read that right. She bent forward to get a better look. She blinked. “That means . . .”

  “We sold out,” Josh said along with her.

  She jerked upright, but the energy inside made her want to keep moving. “I can’t believe it.” She threw her arms in the air. This was happening. It was really happening. She hadn’t gotten the loan, but God had provided another way. An unexpected way. A way she never would have gone without Josh.

  She jumped a couple times then wrapped her arms around him for a hug. She was sharing the joy. She was congratulating him for a job well done. She was . . .

  She was being hugged in return. His hands on her back pressed her closer.

  The energy drained away. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t let go.

  His palms slid down to the small of her back. But she couldn’t let herself touch him like that. She balled her hands into fists to keep from sliding her fingers up into his hair. She lowered her face into his chest so she wouldn’t look up and accidentally nuzzle his neck. But still she couldn’t let go.

  His breath brushed her cheek. So warm, yet it gave her chills.

  She shouldn’t have hugged him. She shouldn’t have let this happen. Because though she’d had memories of what it felt like to be in his arms, that wasn’t the same. She knew Josh now. She cared about Josh now. And having him hold her now wasn’t about helping her get her blood sugar back to normal or calm her fears about calling her dad. It was about everything.

  How could she experience this—to feel his heartbeat through his chest and the tickle of his fingers against her spine and have his muscles mold around her—and then live without it the rest of her life? What if she gave in?

  Her toes curled in protest. Or maybe it was anticipation. But it didn’t matter, she forced herself to pull her torso far enough away to meet his eyes. Only her gaze got snagged on his lips. They were so close. She tilted her head. But rather than close her eyes, she looked to him.

  Big mistake. Because he was looking at her like he’d looked at her by the barn. The way she’d looked at him. The way that said she would never, ever get over him.

  “Hey.” Sam stepped past and opened the freezer. “I think you’re out of ice cream. Can I borrow the truck to go get some more?”

  Time froze, but it gave Paisley a chance to grasp her bearings. She was in Josh’s arms—in the most passionate embrace she’d ever experienced, and Sam was talking about ice cream. Which was exactly what a chaperone should do. Maybe she’d thank him later when her mind cleared. Though her mind wasn’t going to have a chance to clear if he was leaving to get ice cream, and she stayed in Josh’s arms.

  She stepped away. She couldn’t look at Josh. She couldn’t see his disappointment or let him see that she felt it every bit as deeply. And she couldn’t remain in the room. “Yes. Go ahead, Sam.”

  Josh moved toward her as if refusing to let her get away.

  “I’ll grab you the keys.” She spun. Keys. Where were they? Was her blood sugar dropping again, or was this how being in Josh’s arms affected her? “I think they’re in my purse.”

  The den. Her purse was in the den.

  “I’ll get them, then I’m going to head to bed. I’m not feeling well.”

  She strode forward, holding out her hands to help guide her along the hallway walls, because with as dizzy as she felt, she could easily stumble into furniture or down steps.

  “Paisley,” Josh called after her.

  Josh. A second ago she’d been in his arms. She stopped and closed her eyes, reliving the moment. Then she said what she had to say. “Goodnight, boys.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  She didn’t have to go to The Coffee Cottage in person after church to talk to Dot and Annabel about catering, but she needed to get away from Josh. Away from his smoldering looks and the questions in his eyes.

  But there shouldn’t be questions. She’d already explained everything. Unless he was considering staying in Montana for her. But with the kind of life he wanted, she knew that wouldn’t be the best thing for him.

  “Pais-ley,” Dot greeted when she walked in the door.

  “How are you, Paisley?” Annabel asked.

  But the better question would be in asking how they were doing. Why were they sitting in rocking chairs? Why were they tangling yarn with long knitting needles? Had one of them pulled a hip muscle when dancing? Were they tired from staying out all night with their new male friends? Had they started drinking decaf?

  “I’m okay. How are you?” she asked.

  “We’re ready to cater a ball for five hundred people,” Dot said. She sounded like her usual energetic self.

  “Are you sure?” Paisley looked around at the small groups of customers. She knew the older women preferred to be social over the actual business part of owning a shop, but if they were going to be feeding hundreds of people that weekend, shouldn’t they be doing the work to get ready?

  “Yes,” Annabel answered. “We ordered all the food we need onli
ne. It will be delivered tomorrow.”

  “And we are learning how to knit so we have something to auction off at the ball,” Dot added. “I’m making a Santa hat, though it’s a little longer than I intended it to be. I just can’t get the tip to come together.”

  Paisley eyed the knotted mess dubiously. She’d have to remember to place a bid so Dot wouldn’t feel like a failure.

  “It’s very relaxing.” Annabel held up her needles. “You should try it.”

  Paisley shifted. Could they tell how tense she was? If she didn’t order coffee, they’d figure it out. They’d realize she didn’t want the caffeine in her system because she already felt nervous enough. “I need something to help me relax,” she said.

  “What’s going on with you, treasured one?”

  The name melted her. Paisley sank into a stiff wooden chair as there were no more rockers available. “I’m in love with Josh.”

  Dot dropped her needles. “That’s wonderful.”

  “No, it’s horrible.”

  Annabel’s eyes softened. Her gaze was a caress. “You don’t think he loves you?”

  Paisley stood back up. Her insides itched too much to let her stay still. She wandered away and gazed out the window at the Mercedes.

  Josh was like his Mercedes. Gorgeous. Powerful. Exciting. But he wouldn’t make it on her ranch.

  “I don’t know if he loves me,” she said. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. She had to tell someone. Had to have them agree with her so she didn’t feel like she was making a mistake. “He didn’t love me in high school. He kissed me at prom then acted like it never happened.”

  “Oh . . .” Dot leaned forward. She was always one for juicy gossip.

  Paisley blew out her cheeks. “Yeah. Broke my heart. But I was only sixteen. Now . . .” She shook her head.

  “Fooey magooey.” Dot pouted. “Has he kissed you since he’s been here?”

  Paisley laughed. Because it was absolutely ridiculous how scared she was of a kiss. “No. I won’t let him.”

  Annabel set her yarn down. “It would be better this time.”

  “It would be worse.”

  “Why?” they chorused.

  She’d never told anyone. Could she tell Annabel? Dot would probably blab. But what did it matter anymore? She was broken. No pretending otherwise. She moved back toward the pair to keep other patrons from overhearing. “I can’t have kids.”

  Quiet. Because there was nothing they could say that would fix her.

  “You can’t have kids?” Annabel repeated softly.

  Paisley looked at the landscape outside the window and bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She was like that landscape. The glistening snow made it look pretty and inviting, but underneath, everything was dead. “I’m diabetic. My blood sugar is really hard to control. Pregnancy could kill me like it did my mom when I was thirteen.”

  The rocking chair creaked. Boots tapped against hardwood. Annabel’s frail arms wrapped around her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Dot joined them. More arms in awkward places.

  But it was so beautifully awkward. Because she’d never told anyone. She thought if she did, it would be like confessing to a contagious disease. She’d be whispered about and avoided. Not loved. Not like this.

  Paisley wiped at a stray tear.

  Annabel looked up, her own eyes glistening. “I don’t understand. Being barren is horrible, but that shouldn’t make falling in love horrible.”

  Paisley sniffed then untangled herself to grab a napkin on the table next to her. “It’s horrible because I can’t marry him. Not that he’s proposed or anything. I’m sure he’s going back to Chicago soon, but if he knew I couldn’t have kids, he definitely wouldn’t stay with me.”

  “What?” Dot screeched. “Why would you think that?”

  Annabel squeezed her hand. “Your ex. He found out and dumped you?”

  “No.” Paisley looked away. She hadn’t expected their love the same way she hadn’t expected her confusion. “I ended it with Nick before he found out.”

  Annabel’s hand rose to her heart. “You never gave him a chance to choose you?”

  Ha. Like her dad chose her mom? “Even if he chose me, I know what would happen. I wouldn’t be enough.”

  “No, no, no.” Annabel shook her head. “You are enough.”

  A ragged breath shook Paisley’s body. “Before my mom died, she was never enough. Dad turned on her. Belittled her. Beat her. All because she hadn’t given him what he really wanted—a son.”

  Dot gasped. “That’s abuse.”

  Annabel tilted her head, a line deepening between her eyebrows as she leaned forward. “Paisley, an abusive man will abuse no matter how good or bad the woman is. This isn’t about you not being enough. This is about choosing a man who will treasure you like you’re more than he deserves.”

  Paisley shook her head. She hadn’t expressed herself right. “I don’t think Josh would beat me. It’s that I know he came from a big family, and I’m sure he wants the same thing. He can’t have that if he’s with me.”

  “Oh, Paisley.”

  The compassion could undo her. She didn’t need compassion. She needed support. Encouragement. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be like you two. I’ll have a business, and I’ll make friends.” Never mind that Josh had somehow become her best friend.

  Dot laughed. “There’s a big difference between you and us. This is not what Annabel or I planned for our lives. This is Plan B.”

  Annabel pointed to herself. “My husband died before we had children.” She pointed at Dot. “And Dot has grown kids, but her husband left her here on a motorcycle trip, and they’ve refused to come and visit because he told them all kinds of horrible things about her.”

  Dot gave a sad smile, which was the saddest Paisley had ever seen her. “I’m saving money to go visit them. If the coffee shop keeps doing as well as we are doing now, I should be able to go this summer.”

  Wow. Paisley couldn’t imagine having a mom and not wanting to see her. But she was thankful to have the women there with her now. Both of them were an inspiration. Because Paisley would be like them. “My ranch is my Plan B,” she explained. “I didn’t only name it Bright Star because of Christmas. I named it Bright Star because of the promise God gave Abraham about having more descendants than stars in the sky. I won’t have actual descendants, but I will have lots of kids at my camps. And I will pass God’s promises on to them. They will be my heirs.”

  Annabel and Dot looked at each other. Were they planning some kind of secret initiation for her? Some grand welcome into their single-and-happy club?

  Annabel looked down. “You know, Abraham didn’t have faith in God’s promise at first. He tried to take a shortcut by having a child with a concubine. He settled for Plan B when God wanted Plan A for his life.”

  They were so sweet. Even when they were living Plan B for themselves, they wanted Plan A for others. Paisley hadn’t gotten the agreement she’d hoped from them, but she’d gotten the love. And that was better. Though she should probably avoid them until Josh left. Until it was too late for Plan A.

  “Thank you ladies for listening. I needed to talk, but now I need to get back to working on the ball. So—”

  “Wait.” Annabel grabbed her hand. Her eyes intense and desperate. “Do you have a dress to wear?”

  A dress? Paisley frowned. She didn’t own a dress and hadn’t even considered needing one. She scratched at her cheek. “Uh . . . I was going to wear jeans and help out behind the scenes. I’ll help you guys with catering.”

  “Fiddle sticks,” Dot declared. “You’re the star.”

  “Ha.” She was not the star. She was more like a charity case. “I’ll wear a pretty sweater and curl my hair if it makes you feel better. But I don’t have time to go shopping in Bozeman.”

  Annabel squeezed her fingers. “You don’t have to.” Her eyes sparkled. “I have an old dress I think will fit you.”

  Oh no. That meant Paisley would
be wearing pink. She’d be so out of her comfort zone. “I don’t think—”

  “Wait here.” Annabel clomped toward the back room then up the stairs.

  She really didn’t have time to wait. And she cringed at the idea of wearing a dress. When Josh had suggested a ball, she’d never considered the idea she’d have to dress up. How did she get out of this one?

  Dot clapped her hands. “I know which dress she’s talking about. You are going to be stunning. You’re going to shine like an actual star.”

  Oh no. Please God, don’t let it have sequins.

  The thud of Annabel’s boots grew louder. She appeared in the doorway, holding up a gown triumphantly.

  Gold silk brocade. It was a halter dress with a sweetheart neckline and mermaid style skirt. Paisley only knew this from the rodeo queen pageants she’d attended with Evangeline in high school. But this was better than any pageant dress. It was classic. It was exquisite. It would make her feel like she was stepping back in time to star in a movie with Carey Grant.

  “Where did you get it, Annabel?”

  Annabel held the dress in front of herself and looked down. “My engagement party. Fifty years ago this month.”

  The red-head would have been a stunner. Like Maureen O’Hara. “I can’t possibly . . .” Though maybe she could borrow it just to try it on and look in the mirror.

  Annabel spun forward as if twirling with a dance partner. She swept the dress into her arms and held it out like a gift. “You must.”

  Paisley ran her hand along the sleek material. What would it feel like to have her whole body covered in such finery? “I don’t have any shoes.”

  Dot pointed to her feet. “Cowboy boots, silly. It’s a cowboy ball.”

  Well, that worked. It was better than heels. And she could always pull her denim jacket on if she got cold. That wouldn’t be too fancy. Though who was she to go to a ball with a movie star and her high school crush? The image didn’t even feel real. “You’re like my fairy godmother, Annabel.”

  “Oh, Paisley. If I’m your fairy godmother, that makes Josh your prince.”

  Josh lifted one leg off the ladder to hook it over a barn rafter and reach far enough to grab the strand of twinkle lights. He hadn’t considered this part of preparing for a ball when he’d suggested the idea, but helping Paisley get her camp started would be worth climbing the ladder again. Especially if he got the chance to dance with her.

 

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