by Rita Herron
“And I’ve always dabbled in antiques,” another young mother said. “I could have my own booth.”
“And Ruby Jean can sell her famous homemade fig preserves and jellies,” a blue-haired woman with a hearing aid shouted.
Suzanne nodded at their enthusiasm, but James frowned at her from the side. “You’re talking about doing this instead of the multilevel development we’d planned?”
“Yes. This project will fit the town,” Suzanne said, her voice growing stronger, “increase revenue and tourism, and offer something more unique than your average everyday shopping center. Horton Developers can help these people refurbish their own town and utilize their talents, and the mall can be built farther out of town. I’ve already located another piece of property that will meet Horton’s needs.”
The town cheered, the locals throwing out suggestions for the craft store. Suzanne beamed, grateful they had liked her proposal.
Well, everyone except James.
He was probably going to like her next announcement even less. She had to tell him that she didn’t intend to marry him.
“OH, MY WORD, you should have been there, Rafe,” Mrs. McAllister tittered. “Suzanne Hartwell is a genius.”
You mean the deceiving, lying, engaged woman who used him, then threw him away?
Rafe bit back the comment burning the tip of his tongue. “A genius, huh?”
“Yes. She had the entire town eating out of the palm of her hand.”
“I imagine she did.” Just like she’d had him eating out of the palm of her hand. Hell, he’d been on his knees—
“Maria, set an extra place, will you?” His mother said, grinning. “We’re having a guest for dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Maria hurried to the kitchen to retrieve another place setting. The smell of homemade fried chicken, mashed potatoes and peach cobbler wafted through the double doors, and Rafe caught the implication.
Oh, hell. “You didn’t invite Suzanne Hartwell to dinner, did you, Mom?”
Disappointment fell across her face. “Actually, no. But not for lack of trying. She and that man from Horton Developers skipped out of there so fast I didn’t get a chance to ask.”
Was Suzanne off with Horton now? Was she kissing him, holding him…
His stomach rolled at the thought.
“So, who’s the extra plate for?”
His mother’s cheeks turned pink. “Uh, Bud’s going to join us.”
Right. She’d mentioned inviting him before. But why was his mother blushing?
“Yes, it’s really no big deal, son, but he’s been so nice to me lately. And he drove me to town today to the meeting. The poor man needs a decent meal every now and then.” She patted her hair, which looked as if she’d just come from the beauty shop. And if his eyes were working properly, she’d had some kind of color put on it. The gray had completely disappeared.
“You don’t mind do you, Rafe?”
Rafe shrugged. “I guess not. I like Bud.” Was the man trying to woo his mother?
Not that he should care if they got together. Bud was a good guy, a hard worker, although financially he didn’t think the man had much to show for himself. But he wanted his mother to be happy. And she had seemed so much happier these past couple of weeks. He’d thought it was because of Suzanne, but maybe she had a crush on his ranch hand.
After what his dad had done, she deserved to find someone else.
He glanced at the table and winced. If they were heading toward a romantic relationship, he would feel like a fifth wheel at dinner. “Mom, tell Maria not to bother to set an extra place. I’m going out tonight.”
“Oh?” The curiosity in her eyes cut him to the bone. She thought he was going to see Suzanne.
He pictured Suzanne with Horton, though, and strode outside. Maybe he’d drop by the Dusty Pub and drown his sorrows with a pitcher of beer. Anything to take his mind off the fact that his mother had a new love in her life, while he had failed miserably in his own.
AS SOON AS the meeting broke up, James cornered Suzanne. “I really wish you’d discussed this new plan with me before you presented it.”
“You don’t like the idea?” Or did he simply not like being upstaged by a woman?
James ran a hand through his hair. “No, it’s a fine idea, I just wish we’d discussed it first.”
“I think you’ll like the other spot I’ve found for your mall,” Suzanne said. “It’s about twenty-five miles out of town, but it has great access to the expressway, and you won’t have to deal with the backlash of this town’s protests.”
James twisted his mouth sideways. “All right, I’ll look at it.” He offered his first smile. “You usually do have good judgment. But I thought you were losing your edge for a minute when you first brought up the idea of this hokey arts and craft village.”
“It’s not hokey,” Suzanne said. “There are some talented people in town, and their uniqueness will draw tourists to visit. With the mountains behind them, the possibilities are endless. I can see a bed and breakfast going in, maybe a row of antique stores. Horton might want to think about putting some rental cabins in near Turner’s Point. The stream that runs through that area is great for fishing, a perfect mountain vacation.”
James planted both hands on her arms and pulled her to him, then kissed her. “Thank God you’re back. I thought I’d lost you to all that sentimentality, when all along you’ve had your head in business.”
Suzanne tasted the guilt on her lips and forced herself not to visibly wipe off his mouthprint. She wanted Rafe’s approval, Rafe’s kiss, Rafe’s hands holding her.
“James, there is some truth to what you said,” she said, vying for honesty.
His eyebrows creased together. “What do you mean?”
“That I…the sentimental stuff.” Oh, heck, she couldn’t admit that she’d fallen for Rafe McAllister, not when he hated her. She did have some pride left, albeit not much. But she had to break it off with James.
So she simply blurted out the truth. “I can’t marry you, James.”
His stunned expression would have been funny if she hadn’t detected a slight bit of hurt to it. Or maybe it was just his pride that had been hurt. He had never mentioned love. Not once.
And his kisses certainly didn’t have the passion she’d experienced with Rafe.
“You can’t marry me?” James said dumbly.
“That’s right.” She slid the ring off her finger and folded it into his hand. “I…I do care about you, James, and I admire your talent on the job, and I…I appreciate the offer.”
“You appreciate the offer?” he asked in an incredulous voice.
“Yes, but I don’t love you, James.”
“Who said anything about love?” Anger hardened his voice. “We had a good thing, Suzanne. We get along, we work well together, just look at how this deal turned out.”
“Yes.” Suzanne’s heart gave a pang. “Just look at how it turned out.” Then she left him standing inside the town hall and went to nurse her broken heart.
Everything had worked out for the town, although she didn’t know if she could return to Atlanta and work with James now. Not that he would want her to….
But Cupid had failed miserably. No, Cupid hadn’t failed. She had.
She was the screwup, the one who had hurt Rafe.
And she would never forgive herself.
Needing a distraction, she decided to visit her father. She’d check on him and tell him in person about her proposal. Resigned, she climbed in her car and drove out of town, thoughts of Rafe flooding her as she passed the Dusty Pub, the bar where she had first met Rafe. She spotted his purple pickup truck, the one that he hated, and slowed.
He was inside now. Having a drink at the bar.
She could see him tipping that Stetson toward her the night they’d met. If she were completely honest with herself, she would admit that she’d fallen a little bit in love with him that first night when he’d held her in his arms and
danced with her. And the day he’d given her riding lessons. And that day in the waterfall.
Pain seared her chest.
Was he holding another woman in his arms right now? Crooning soft words in her ear until he danced his way into her bed and her heart?
Chapter Sixteen
Rafe frowned at the juke box; Elvis’s words about being lonesome tonight ringing way too close to the truth. Damn it, he was lonesome and he didn’t like the feeling. Even worse, he had been at the pub for over an hour, three women had hit on him, and he had been unable to muster enough interest to even buy one of them a drink. And the last one had been a blond bombshell with blue eyes that could sink a man, and boobs that would have once sent him over the edge.
But the blond didn’t compare to Suzanne’s dark hair. Or eyes.
Suzanne Hartwell had ruined him for other women.
Which made it ten times more difficult to forget her.
And he wanted to forget her. He desperately wanted to forget her.
But fear niggled at him—when had he let her get under his skin? When had he started to care for her?
Had he fallen in love?
God help him. No. He could not be in love with a city girl who made ten times more money than him, one who had lied to him and nearly stolen his home right out from under him.
Hell, he still wasn’t sure the ranch was secure. The deal with Landon had helped, but Wallace was being a stickler about making up for the missed payments.
“Hey, cowboy, how about a dance?”
Rafe told himself to say yes. But then he looked into the redhead’s pretty green eyes and thought, why bother? It wouldn’t be fair to this lady to hold her in his arms when he really wanted to hold someone else.
“Sorry, darlin’, but I was just leaving.” Cursing himself for being even more of a fool, he threw down a few bills to cover the bar tab and limped outside for some fresh air. He should have stuck with training horses.
“DAD, YOU LOOK so much better.” Suzanne hugged her father, then placed the box of chocolates on the end table, relieved to see some color had returned to his cheeks. A potted plant sat on the coffee table, a fresh flower arrangement on another end table, and other flower arrangements covered the piano.
He clasped Eleanor’s hand in his and smiled. “My wife has been babying me to no end.”
The comment was so unlike her father that Suzanne laughed. Worry lined Eleanor’s face and the affectionate way the two were holding hands created myriad emotions inside Suzanne: happiness for her father that he’d finally found love again, as well as sadness that she’d failed so horribly in her own personal life.
“I see you’ve been keeping the florist busy.”
His father grinned, his face reddening as if embarrassed. A cactus from her uncle Wiley. The orange-and-yellow-striped bow should have been a dead giveaway.
“Now, what’s wrong, Suz?” her father asked. “You don’t look like yourself.”
Suzanne shrugged. “Just tired, Dad. You gave us quite a scare.”
“I’m sorry.” He squeezed Eleanor’s hand again and she kissed his cheek.
“I’ll go make some tea for everyone.” Tucking a curl behind her ear, she hummed as she headed to the kitchen.
“You two seem like you’re getting along well,” Suzanne said.
“That heart attack was the wake-up call your old dad needed.” He patted the space beside him on the sofa. “Life’s too short not to appreciate the nice things in life. You have to stop and smell the roses.”
Hadn’t her grandmother said as much in her letter to Suzanne? The simple things are the best.
Unfortunately Suzanne had realized it all too late.
“Tell me what’s really bothering you now.” Her father lifted her hand in his, his eyes narrowing at the absence of the sapphire ring James had given her. “You turned down James’s proposal?”
Suzanne nodded, uncomfortable with this tender side of her father. “Have you spoken with him?”
“Not about personal matters, but he was ecstatic over your ideas for Sugar Hill. Specialty shops and antiques and arts and crafts stores should go over well there. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”
“Grammy Rose and Rebecca and the girls gave me the idea.”
“It’s brilliant. And it should make everyone in the town happy as well as boost the economy.”
Suzanne nodded. “I hope so. We have a long way to go to get the project off the ground, though.”
Her father tipped her chin up with his thumb. “So, why don’t you look happy? Having second thoughts about James?”
“No, it’s not James.”
“Then who?”
Suzanne glanced at the door, hoping Eleanor would rescue her, but had no such luck.
“It’s that cowboy, isn’t it?” Her father sighed. “I thought there was something going on between the two of you when I saw you together.”
“There is nothing going on,” Suzanne said. “He hates me.”
“What?” His eyebrows shot up. “How could any man hate my daughter? You’re lovely and smart and—”
“And I deceived him, Dad. I went to Sugar Hill to talk him into selling his ranch, but I didn’t tell him that I was working for James.”
“Oh.” He scratched his chin. “But you were doing your job. The man has to understand that.”
“He doesn’t understand why I lied. He’s an honest man, Dad. And the Lazy M Ranch has been in his family for generations.”
“An honest, broke man but sentimental, huh?”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“But you can’t pay bills without it, now, can you?”
Suzanne shrugged. That was the problem. And short of paying off Rafe’s loans for him, she didn’t know how to help him.
She clutched her father’s hand. That was it, she would find out how much he needed and make an anonymous donation. She had plenty of savings stored away that she’d planned to use to buy her condo instead of renting. And she loved Rafe enough to part with it. To save his beloved land and the memories his mother treasured. After all, life was too short; she could replace the money, but his mother’s memories were irreplaceable. Mrs. McAllister would lose the tree she’d planted when he was born and the one where she and her husband had married.
This was one thing she could do for Rafe and his mother, something to make up for her lies and for hurting him.
And if she worked it right, Rafe would never have to know….
THE NEXT WEEK was one of the longest weeks in Rafe’s life. Every time he turned around, his mother was asking about Suzanne. Or he was seeing reminders of the woman who had glided into his life like a fairy angel, broken his heart and disappeared just as quickly.
Now, when he rode across the pasture and looked at the mountains, he remembered Suzanne’s look of awe at the splendor. When he passed the falls, he saw her nearly naked body, floating in the mist, her smile as radiant as the moonlight skating over the icy water.
Even Hazel and her baby calf reminded him of the danged woman.
Unfortunately, his mother’s newfound romance with Bud emphasized the fact that he was alone, driving the nail of despair deeper into his own wounded flesh.
He had mended every piece of broken fence he could find, he and Bud and Red had branded the new steers, and at night he had labored over the books, trying to squirrel out a few extra thousand.
Thursday afternoon, he entered the bank, his head high, praying Slim Wallace had softened on his demands since Horton Developers had backed off wanting his property. Another reminder of Suzanne.
Apparently, she was the new town hero.
He reluctantly admitted he admired her solution. But he hadn’t admired her lies.
Was she enjoying being back in Atlanta? Spending her days with the city crowd, her nights with Horton? The thought made his stomach sour.
The floor creaked as he stepped past the tellers to Wallace’s office. He was surprised to see Bud s
itting in the man’s office.
“Come on in,” Wallace said.
Rafe frowned and raised his brow in question. Bud gave him a sheepish grin and cracked his knuckles.
“You want me to wait till you’re done?” Rafe asked, wondering if Bud was here to borrow money. He sure as hell hadn’t been able to give him a raise lately.
“No, sit down,” Wallace said.
“I asked to join you,” Bud explained, then cleared his throat, his gaze straying nervously.
Wallace laid a folder on his desk, then handed Rafe a copy. “All right, let’s talk business.”
Rafe reached in his pocket and pulled out the check he’d written earlier, hating that he’d had to accept money from Landon, but he had no choice. “This should get me almost caught up.”
Wallace took the check and studied it, then dropped it on his desk.
“And this should cover the rest,” Bud said, drawing out his own checkbook and scribbling out a check.
Rafe swallowed hard. “What the hell are you doing, Bud?”
“Helping out a friend,” Bud said. “Actually two friends. You and your mama.”
“I’m not taking your charity.” Rafe shot to his feet. “Put your checkbook back in your pocket.”
“Don’t be stubborn, Rafe,” Bud said. “You need the money, I’ve got it. Call it a loan if you want.”
“If you’ve got so much money, how come you’re working for me?”
Bud shrugged. “I like the Lazy M.” His grin turned sheepish again. “And I’ve liked your mama for a long time.”
Rafe stared at him dumbfounded. “But—”
“But nothing, Rafe. I want to marry your mother, so why shouldn’t I contribute to the ranch, something besides sweat and hard work? I want to be more.”
“Like a partner?”
“Gentlemen, this is all very touching,” Wallace said wryly, “but unnecessary.” He handed Bud back his check. “The loan has been paid off.”
“What?” The chair skidded across the floor when Rafe stumbled backward and bumped it.
“You heard me. An anonymous donor paid you up for the next three months.”
