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

by Angela Ruth Strong

  Sam followed. “You sure you don’t want to spend the holidays with Tracen and Emily in Sun Valley?”

  And have to watch a couple of newlyweds kissing under mistletoe every time he turned around? “No thanks.”

  “What about flying to Florida to hang with Mom and Dad?”

  “No time. I’m supposed to sign the contract with the computer company today.” Not that he cared about the contract anymore. He cared more about family, but he’d see them at the Sundance Film Festival at the end of January. For now, he wanted to be alone. Alone with his thoughts. Reliving the last month. Imagining what Christmas could have been like if Paisley hadn’t insisted he leave Bright Star. What Christmas should have been like.

  Sam stepped ahead of him and pulled open the red door to the cottage. The rich scent of coffee beans floated out, along with excited chatter. Saying goodbye to the coffee shop owners was more important than actually getting a cup of joe.

  Dot spun from where she was standing in front of a mirror, adjusting what might pass as a knit headband over her ears in a way that made her silver spikes stand up even wilder. She clapped her hands. “What do you think?”

  About what? The headband? Josh eyed it closer. What was he supposed to think? “Nice.”

  “I made it myself. It’s red, black, and white because I’m going to the Icedogs’ game tonight in Bozeman.” She leaned forward and cupped a hand around her mouth before stage whispering, “I’m going with Snake, but don’t tell Sam. I don’t want him to get jealous.”

  “I heard.” Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “Lucky guy.”

  Dot giggled as if she were sixty years younger.

  Good for her. Though thinking about someone else in a happy relationship made Josh itchy and uncomfortable, like the time he mistakenly gathered a bouquet of flowers and Poison Ivy for Mom on Mother’s Day. He’d think about Icedogs. What sport was that? “Hockey?” he guessed.

  “Yep.” She wove through the maze of tables and chairs to join them. “I’ve never been to a hockey game before, but I heard there’s lots of punching.” She swung her little fists around the air.

  Josh couldn’t help but smile. If he had to spend Christmas with someone besides Paisley, he would choose Dot. She’d cheer him up. Too bad he couldn’t take her to Illinois. “Dot, if you ever come to Chicago, I’ll take you to a Blackhawks’ game.”

  Her arms fell by her sides.

  What?

  Annabel stepped out of the kitchen carrying a tray of yeasty-scented pastries. “Chicago? Why would you go back to Chicago? Don’t you like it here?”

  Her words rubbed at the fresh scab on his heart. “I love it here.”

  “You love Paisley,” she corrected, no doubt in her tone.

  He couldn’t argue. He’d have to learn to hide his heartbreak better, or the whole world would look at him with the kind of pity he’d left Chicago to escape. “What gave me away?”

  She sat the tray on the glass counter. “You kissed her back in high school, and you’ve been looking for her ever since.”

  His chin jutted forward. How did she know that?

  Dot patted his arm. This apparently wasn’t news to her, either.

  He held out his hands and glared at Sam. “Am I the last to know this?”

  Sam’s eyebrows arched toward his hairline. All innocence. “I didn’t tell them.”

  Annabel clomped across the floor. “The important thing is that you know now. And that you tell her how you feel.”

  Josh stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and shook his head. “I told her I love her. She told me to leave.”

  Dot clicked her tongue. “I was afraid of that.”

  Josh narrowed his eyes. What else did these ladies know?

  Annabel looked out the window. “I have to talk to her.”

  Josh studied the sweet redhead. He wanted to believe she could say something to make a difference, but he’d already tried. And Sam warned that Paisley needed to find healing for herself if she was ever going to be in a healthy relationship. “She’s not going to let you tell her what to do.”

  Annabel marched to a basket full of yarn and knitting needles. She pulled out a poorly knit beanie and mittens. “I’m not going to tell her what to do. I’m going to tell her what I should have done.”

  Josh didn’t know what that meant, but he couldn’t imagine it would change anything. Annabel wasn’t only single, she was old and single. Her life would be an example to Paisley of how one could live happily alone.

  “I appreciate it, but—”

  Annabel silenced him with a determined glare.

  He blinked. The lady had a fiery side. And all this time, he’d thought her bright hair was a dye job.

  “You need to get gas in town before you leave, right?” she asked.

  Why? What tricks did she have up her sleeve? “Yes . . .” he answered cautiously.

  She nodded, wrapped a holey scarf around her neck, and sailed under Josh’s nose to grab her parka off the wall. “Sam, you hold down the shop. Dot, you’re taking me for a snowmobile ride.”

  Paisley pulled her jacket and boots back on. The horses probably didn’t need to be fed yet, but she needed something to do. She stopped on the way to the barn to watch the skaters. Two giggly teenagers who kept falling down, a mother pulling her son along, and a couple skating hand in hand as if they were posing for the cover of a Christmas card. She hadn’t thought about having to deal with cozy couples when she’d decided to follow Grandpa’s plans for the skating rink. Though it wouldn’t have bothered her then as much as it did now.

  She’d kind of skated with Josh. Not because they were a couple, but because he was fun to skate with. He was fun to be with. His smile made her happy. His arms kept her warm. And his kiss . . .

  She groaned and refocused on heading to the barn. She didn’t want to think about it. But that didn’t mean his kiss hadn’t been better than she’d remembered.

  Maybe it was only that good because she couldn’t have him. Because she’d spent so much time trying to forget him that he was always at the forefront of her mind. Because it was a goodbye kiss.

  Though kissing Nick goodbye hadn’t been any big deal. It wasn’t about Nick so much as it had been about leaving the kind of life she’d planned for herself.

  Josh was not in the life she’d planned for herself, yet he’d shown up anyway. At least there were no more secrets between them. He knew why she couldn’t be with him. And he’d eventually be able to accept the fact they couldn’t have a happily-ever-after the same way he’d have to accept that he didn’t need to keep looking for his dream girl. No such thing existed.

  Though finding out how much their kiss at prom had meant to him had affected everything. It was like a drop of peppermint in a cup of hot cocoa. Life tasted sweeter somehow. More refreshing. More merry.

  She slid the barn door to one side and welcomed the scent of hay and manure. This was her life.

  Cassidy neighed. Paisley’s eyes adjusted to the darker interior enough to see her favorite horse press her body against the stall to get closer.

  It was nice to be loved. It was even nicer to be able to love back. She pulled her gloves off her hands to feel Cassidy’s soft coat, as she brushed her hands along the hair. Cass nudged her with her nose, and Paisley held her hands beyond the mare’s nostrils to heat her frozen fingers.

  Paisley wasn’t alone. She had Cassidy and Butch and Sundance.

  “God gave me you,” she said. Whereas Josh had been more like the horse he “received” at Christmas as a child.

  The memory brought a smile to her lips. Why was it that some people got horses when other people really wanted them? Why was it that some people got babies when other people really wanted them? Why was it that some people got to fall in love and marry when other people really wanted to? Other people being her. She wanted that life. With Josh.

  She fingered the necklace. “Josh gave me this,” she told her horse.

  Cassidy nudged her
to get her to keep petting.

  She sighed and reached her arms around Cassidy’s neck. “You liked him, too, didn’t you, girl?”

  An engine revved outside. Not a car engine. More like a snow blower. Or a snowmobile. Sam’s snowmobile sat outside, so it couldn’t be Josh coming back for her. Probably more skaters.

  “We’ve got a good thing going here, don’t we?” She asked the horse. “It may not seem like much, but it will be. Bright Star Ranch will bring joy to lots of people.”

  Joy. Hard to imagine she could bring people joy when she felt so miserable. Why did she think she could do this again? Who was she to offer a camp for kids when she didn’t know how to raise them? Who was she to offer a Christian retreat center when she didn’t even want to celebrate Christmas?

  She wasn’t enough. Her own father didn’t want her.

  She buried her face against Cassidy’s coat exactly as she had when her father called her mother worthless. She’d run out of their house. Cried. Asked her old horse Ranger for help.

  Josh had overheard her that one time. She’d been so embarrassed. He’d asked if she was okay, and she’d rewound her words to consider them from his perspective. She hadn’t really said much more than, “It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair.” He hadn’t known she’d been talking about another one of her mom’s miscarriages. She’d tried to laugh at herself and claimed she liked to talk to her horses about her problems. That’s when he suggested talking to God instead. Because God understood.

  She needed someone to understand now, too. She needed her heavenly father. How amazing was it that Josh led her to Christ, and he didn’t even know? He’d never know how much his life had touched hers.

  “Father God?” She choked on the words. How could the creator of the universe love her as His child when her own father couldn’t? Josh had said God understood. Could that be because God had been rejected before, too? He hadn’t only been a father; He’d been a child in a manger, vulnerable and needy. He knew how she felt, and He knew what would heal her heart. “What do I do? I’m lost without You.”

  “Paisley.”

  Paisley jumped. Had she really heard a voice?

  Female. Older. Distant. But it sounded like it called her name.

  Paisley turned toward the door. Who was looking for her? And why?

  “Paisley,” the voice called again. Stronger this time.

  “In here.”

  A lone silhouette appeared in the doorway. Annabel? Where was Dot?

  Paisley wiped up her tears before the woman noticed them. “Are you here to skate?” She hoped her voice sounded at least a little cheerful.

  Annabel shook her head, her hair flying underneath a crooked beanie. She stepped into the darkness of the barn, moving slowly as if her eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. “Dot is skating. But I’m here to tell you about your skating rink.”

  Paisley sniffed away the stuffiness left over from crying. Was her ice not up to Annabel’s standards? Was that why she hadn’t come out to use it yet? “What’s wrong with it? Are people talking about it in town?”

  “No, it’s . . . it’s wonderful.”

  Okay . . . Paisley scratched her head. Of all the times for Annabel to show up and play guessing games, why did it have to be today? It was Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t the woman be hosting a white elephant gift exchange or dressing up like Mrs. Claus or something? “Do you need new skates? I was wanting to get you cowboy boots for Christmas, but if you prefer skates instead . . .”

  “That’s so sweet of you.” Annabel wrung her hands together. “Your grandpa was sweet to me, too.”

  Grandpa? Grandpa Johan and Annabel? Paisley turned completely from Cassidy to study the woman more closely.

  She was about Grandpa’s age. And Grandma had been gone for a while by the time Annabel and Dot opened shop. Come to think of it, Grandpa had never gone out for coffee before The Coffee Cottage arrived. He’d used an old green percolator that he’d accidentally dropped and refused to replace with one of the “new-fangled” Keurigs. Maybe it hadn’t been an accident after all.

  But was that what Annabel was talking about? Was she the woman Grandpa had been dating? “What do you mean?”

  Annabel took another couple of steps forward. “I mean he was going to build the ice skating rink for me. To get me out to the ranch more.”

  Oh. That was sweet. Grandpa Johan had loved spending time with her. “Oh, Annabel, I had no idea.”

  Maybe she should have suspected. By the way Annabel had called Paisley a “treasure” exactly like Grandpa had.

  But not only was the story as sweet as a Nicholas Sparks novel. It was as tragic. Paisley spoke the tragedy aloud. “Grandpa died before he could get the skating rink going for you.”

  How had Annabel hidden such grief? How had she endured the loss? Paisley knew a fraction of what it felt like to lose a man she loved. But Josh hadn’t died. He was simply going to live elsewhere.

  “No.” Annabel leaned her head to one side. “Johan had time to build me the rink, but I told him not to.”

  “Why?” Annabel didn’t love Grandpa in return?

  Annabel looked down. Then she looked up and stepped forward. Close enough to wrap one of her mittened hands around Paisley’s icy fingers. Her eyes peered clearly into Paisley’s. “I was afraid to love your grandfather. I’d decided not to love again after my husband died. I thought it would hurt too much if I outlived another spouse.”

  “Oh, Annabel.” Paisley reached out and engulfed the woman’s frail shoulders. If Annabel had taken that risk, she’d be Paisley’s grandmother. Paisley would have family. Annabel would have family. Maybe they could still be each other’s family.

  Annabel rubbed her hands up and down Paisley’s back. She smelled like a chocolate covered coffee bean. Paisley closed her eyes. She’d been praying for a friend, and now she had more than that. The woman would help her get over Josh.

  Annabel pulled away but only far enough to grab both Paisley’s hands and look up into her eyes again. “I missed out on a beautiful relationship because I was afraid. I protected myself so I wouldn’t be hurt. But it still hurt when Johan died. I didn’t prevent the pain. I only prevented the joy.”

  Paisley’s heart burned in her chest, similar to the feeling of stepping into a hot springs after hiking through the snow. The thawing stung. It would be easier to remain frozen. But Annabel’s words bubbled around her like the jets of a Jacuzzi. She hadn’t come over to talk about the skating rink. She came because she knew Paisley made the same choice she’d made.

  “Did Josh stop at The Coffee Cottage?” Paisley asked.

  Annabel nodded.

  “Did he ask you to come by and tell me this story?”

  It was good. It was too good. It was the kind of thing an advertising designer might come up with.

  Annabel shook her head. “Nobody knows this story but me. Dot doesn’t even know.”

  The confession knocked another chunk of ice away. Annabel was really there on her own. Because she didn’t want Paisley to go through the same kind of pain. But the older woman’s life had worked out. Annabel had Dot. God would bring Paisley someone else. It could even be down the road when she was Annabel’s age. Maybe she could marry a widower then. Because he would have already had children. The thought brought no relief.

  Annabel squeezed her hands. “You can still have a happy ending.”

  Could she? She pressed her lips together and looked away. She wanted to believe. Oh, how she wanted to believe. But there was the echo of Dad’s demands that if Mom loved him, she’d give him a son. There was the image of Mom lifeless in a hospital bed. “What if you’re wrong?”

  Annabel lifted a hand to Paisley’s cheek and wiped away the tear she hadn’t realized escaped. “I could be wrong. There are no guarantees in this life.”

  Paisley’s shoulders slumped. She looked away. Why couldn’t the woman lie to her and tell her everything would work out? That Josh’s love would fill her every hole. That she would fina
lly be complete.

  “As the woman who could have been your grandmother, I’m going to tell you something your parents should have told you.” Annabel’s voice deepened in conviction. “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”

  Paisley knew the Bible said that. But she didn’t feel it. In fact, to have Annabel say it felt like a lie. “The fearful part fits.” She laughed to keep from crying at the sad joke.

  Annabel’s gaze softened. “Well, I’m not God, but I think you’re wonderful. You’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You’re hard-working.”

  Each compliment struck at her heart with the force of an icepick. If she let Annabel keep going, there’d be nothing left but raw flesh, vulnerable to pain.

  She added to the older woman’s list. “I’m diabetic . . .”

  “You’re treasured.”

  Paisley looked down. She wanted to believe it, but—

  Annabel’s hand blocked her view. The woman’s finger extended to reach under Paisley’s chin. She lifted until Paisley was forced to look into her wise eyes, but she didn’t stop there. She kept tilting until Paisley was staring at the rafters Josh had decorated with twinkle lights.

  “Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens.” Annabel released her hold, but kept her captured with a quote that sounded like scripture. “Who created all these?”

  All these?

  “He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of His great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.”

  Stars. Again.

  “Don’t you think if God calls the stars by names, He cares for you too, Paisley? He treasures you?”

  Paisley’s tears rained down harder. “If anybody is a treasure it’s you, Annabel.”

  Annabel’s eyes glistened. “I’m okay. I survived another loss, and God is still here for me.” She reached up to smooth a strand of Paisley’s hair away from her wet face. “You’ll be okay, too. If you decide to continue your life as a single woman, you’ll be okay. You’re going to make this ranch run. You’ve got what it takes. You’re enough.”