by Tracy March
Lindsey figured it best to let the subject go for now, considering there might not be anything more to be learned. Disappointed, yet determined to be a gracious guest, she took a bite of her still-warm scone, which was dotted with gooey blueberries. Scones tended to be bland, in her experience, but this one tasted surprisingly fruity and delicious. She smiled as she savored its crispy sweetness.
“We picked those blueberries this morning,” Milly said.
Lindsey blotted her mouth with her napkin. “Everything is so tasty. Come Sunday, I might spend my entire paycheck at your farmers’ market stand.”
“Not this Sunday,” Merri said. “We packed a goodie basket for you to take home.”
Milly nodded. “It should last you awhile.”
Lindsey’s heart lightened and her eyes welled. “That’s so sweet of you.” Her words wavered and she blinked back tears. “I’m sorry. It’s not like me to get emotional, it’s just that everyone has been so kind and helpful and generous.” Even Carden, to be fair. He’d put a quick end to their budding romance, but he had fixed the lights…and the toilet.
“Everyone’s happy to have you here,” Merri said. “We knew you were the perfect girl for the job. Now that we’ve met you, we’re even more convinced.” She and Milly shared that knowing look again.
Milly set her napkin next to her plate and stood. “Excuse me a moment.”
“Would you like to see the greenhouse and the gardens after tea?” Merri asked.
Lindsey nodded. “Of course I would.”
“We don’t show it to many people.” Merri set her sparkly gaze on Lindsey. “Just the special ones.”
“Why, thank you.” Lindsey felt compelled to curtsey, but since she was seated, she dipped her chin demurely.
Milly returned to the room carrying something brown and furry in her arms, and Lindsey wondered if it was alive. A cat? It seemed odd to bring an animal to tea, but considering what she’d heard about the Montgomery sisters, anything was possible.
Merri smiled eagerly as Milly sat the creature on the table, facing Lindsey. “This is Ruby Eileen. We’d like to donate her to the museum.”
Lindsey stared at the exquisite teddy bear. It had glossy fur the color of caramel, and soulful dark eyes that seemed to hold a story in them. The pads of its paws were fashioned from rich ivory watered taffeta. Two small initials—R and E—were monogrammed on the pad of the bear’s left foot with shimmery taupe thread.
Ruby Eileen.
Outfitted for tea, the bear wore a fancy wide lace collar—rich ivory, like the taffeta—cinched around its neck with an ivory satin ribbon, tied in a bow. A smaller bow made of the same ribbon was attached near one of its ears, a glistening ruby adorning the knot of the bow. The subtle tilt of its head made it appear playful and curious. From what Lindsey could tell, it looked remarkably crafted, and nearly new.
“She’s beautiful.” Lindsey smoothed her fingers over the fur.
Merri beamed. “She was made in the late 1800s from a woman’s fur stole.”
“Wow, she’s an antique,” Lindsey said. “I never would’ve guessed that. She’s in much better condition than other toys people have donated from that era.”
“We’ll also be donating Granddaddy’s railroad pocket watch.” Milly reached toward Lindsey, turned her palm up, and unfurled her fingers, revealing a handsome antique-gold pocket watch, its chain nestled beneath it, winding keys attached.
“The railroads needed highly accurate, precision timepieces so their locomotive engineers could maintain strict schedules and avoid collisions,” Merri said. “Granddaddy’s is a rare McIntyre with twenty-five jewels. Still precise—nearly to the second.”
“Wow.” Lindsey lifted it from Milly’s hand, clutched it gently, and examined it closely. She opened the engraved cover with the push of a button, revealing its face—filigreed arms and bold, elongated roman numerals.
“We thought it’d be the perfect item to represent him,” Merri said. “Considering how he brought the railroad here.”
Lindsey nodded, embracing that special rush of excitement that came with finding a unique and storied item for an exhibit. “I love it.”
“We’ll put it in its box and send it along with you and Ruby Eileen.” Milly took the watch from Lindsey and gestured toward the two-tiered serving tray. “Won’t you have a petit four?”
“The cinnamon rolls are delicious, too,” Merri chimed in. “They use our recipe in town at Calypso Coffee.”
Lindsey took one of each, which led to seconds, since the pastries were so irresistible. Afterward, Milly and Merri took Lindsey out to the gardens, complete with quaint potting and tool sheds that matched the house. The afternoon sun highlighted the sisters’ shimmery tea dresses and shiny shoes. They fit right into the fanciful scene with the colorful blooms, aromatic herbs, and healthy vegetables. If the magazine people doing a feature on Carden really wanted an intriguing story, they should shift gears and come meet the Montgomery sisters.
“Everything’s so lovely,” Lindsey said to Milly and Merri.
“We get a little help now and then.” Milly gazed at Merri as if they shared a special secret.
Lindsey cast a curious look at the little ladies, hoping they’d share more.
“Somehow it all comes up roses.” Milly chuckled.
When the garden and greenhouse tour ended, Milly ducked inside the house through the back entrance. Moments later, she came out carrying a basket nearly as big as she was, filled with wrapped goodies tied with bows. The watch box was nestled on one side, and Ruby Eileen was seated on top.
“Oh my gosh,” Lindsey said. “This is better than Christmas.”
They loaded the basket into the SUV, securing it in the passenger’s seat, and Lindsey gave each of the tiny ladies a hug. “Thank you so much—for everything.”
Milly and Merri gazed at her for a long moment, tight little grins on their faces.
“We’re just getting started,” Merri said.
Feeling as if she’d been far away somehow, Lindsey drove back to Thistle Bend, going easy around the hairpin turns and blind curves as she listened to country music on the radio. She glanced at the teddy bear and the box nestled among the goodies in the basket on the passenger seat. Maybe she’d do some research tonight and learn more about railroad pocket watches.
Lindsey shook her head. Doing research would be the highlight of her Friday night in Thistle Bend. Shoulders slumped, she allowed herself to think about all she’d left behind in D.C.—all she hoped to get back to. She’d loved her job as an exhibit planner at the Smithsonian. Her experience conceptualizing, developing, writing scripts, and bringing exhibits to life had prepared her to make her mark curating the museum in Thistle Bend, but she wanted to go home so badly.
Lost in her thoughts, she pulled in front of her cabin behind an unfamiliar red pickup parked there. An open trailer was hitched to the back, stocked with landscaping equipment and plastic gas containers. She put the SUV in park and cut the engine. The Blake Shelton song that had been playing on the radio was replaced by the buzz of a lawnmower, getting louder by the second.
Her stomach fluttered despite being full of tea sandwiches, scones, petits fours and cinnamon rolls. Had Carden changed his mind? The red pickup wasn’t the one he normally drove, but maybe he used it for work. The front of the lawnmower appeared around the corner of the house just ahead of the man pushing it. Lindsey held her breath…
Not Carden.
Judging by the man’s weathered face and thinning brown hair, Lindsey guessed him to be mid-forties, at least. His jeans looked nearly that old, but his untucked royal blue T-shirt appeared somewhat new. There was no mistaking the bright white logo on the front—the intertwining C and R. Crenshaw Ranch. Lindsey’s heart sank. Carden had sent a ranch hand to do the work, just like he said he would.
Lindsey got out of the SUV and glanced at the cabin. The front of it appeared even duller than the side. Seems the ranch hand had been busy scraping pa
int before he’d started mowing the lawn. She sighed heavily, all the lightness she’d felt when she left the Montgomery sisters turned heavy.
Cutting another strip of the lawn, the ranch hand was mowing in her direction. She waved, and he nodded politely before turning the mower and heading toward the back. Lindsey grabbed her keys, walked to the passenger side of the SUV and opened the door. She slung her purse over her shoulder and grabbed the large basket. It weighed more than she’d guessed—and she’d known it would be heavy. How had Milly managed it so easily? Lindsey cradled the basket in her arms, closed the door with her elbow, and made her way toward the dull-looking cabin, keys in hand.
Welcome home.
The tears that had threatened earlier welled in her eyes again. She’d been trying to make the best of this move, but she felt so alone right now. She’d video chat with her parents tonight, and maybe catch Becca, too.
Twisting sideways, she tried to balance the weight of the basket and get her key in the front door lock. No luck. She shifted the basket against her stomach but it was too wide for her to reach the lock. Setting it down while wearing the dress she had on would be—
“Can I get that for you?”
Lindsey froze. Awareness prickled through her, settling like cool snowflakes. Only one person’s voice could affect her like that.
Carden.
Chapter 15
Carden had no idea how Lindsey would react to him after the things he’d said to her last night. Stupid things he’d regretted later after he got back to his ranch and gave the situation some thought.
I got carried away…It won’t happen again.
She’d reacted with graciousness he hadn’t deserved. He’d been hurt like hell by Amanda, and he would never forget that. Couldn’t if he tried. But that was no excuse to shut out Lindsey.
Lindsey wasn’t Amanda.
It wasn’t Lindsey’s fault that he lost control when they were alone. That she hadn’t left his mind since the moment he’d met her. She was just being herself—not flirty or fake like some women who came on to him—and that’s what he couldn’t resist. He wasn’t sure what might happen between them, or if she’d even speak to him, but he couldn’t let things lie like he’d left them last night.
He’d decided to do the paint job on the cabin himself. That would give him a reason to be near her. A chance to casually address what he’d done last night, and see if they could move past it. But there was nothing casual about the way his heart hammered now that he was standing next to her.
Carden slid his arm beneath the heavy basket and took it from her, freeing her hands so she could unlock the door. She glanced at him quickly, her eyes glassy as if she was about to cry.
“Thank you.” She gave him a hint of a smile, and hurried to unlock the door and open it. “I think the cabin looks better scraped than it did with the gray paint on it.”
Carden followed her in and set the basket on the counter, encouraged by her humor. “I’ve gotten a lot of the white paint scraped,” he teased. “You’ll have a Lemon Cream cabin in a couple days…unless you’ve changed your mind.”
She blinked a few times, looking brighter. “Not a chance. I went outside with my coffee first thing this morning. Lemon Cream looked even happier in the daylight.”
Carden wished he could’ve been here with her first thing this morning. Wished he could’ve been here all night.
“I’d better get back out there.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Hope to get all the scraping done before dark. Tomorrow’s weather looks good. I’ll sand it then.”
“Will the lawn-mowing guy help you after he cuts the grass?”
Carden shook his head. “I promised him he could leave when he finished. He’s already working overtime.”
“Maybe I can help, if you’ve got an extra scraper.”
He raised his eyebrows and took advantage of the moment, looking her up and down greedily. The sleeveless dress she wore teased him in the classiest kind of way—baring her shoulders, smoothing over her curves, skimming her thighs at just the right length. He nodded. “That might require a wardrobe change.”
“Easy enough.” She headed toward her bedroom. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Carden went out, thinking he should’ve said something about what had happened last night. Clearly, since he was here working on the cabin, he hadn’t meant everything he’d said, but he owed Lindsey an explanation.
She had him lost for words when she came out wearing a pair of faded jean shorts and a snug Nationals T-shirt. Her fancy chignon had been replaced by a good ol’ ponytail. He clenched his teeth, stifling the urge to whistle. “Go Nats” was all he could manage to say once he got his brain unscrambled. If the Nationals sat Lindsey in the dugout, they’d win every game.
She scrunched her nose and frowned. “I’ll miss going to the games. Guess I’ll need a Rockies shirt now.”
“Lucky shirt.” He winked and handed her a scraper.
She narrowed her eyes for a split second and tipped her head. Of course she was confused. His messages couldn’t be more mixed. But now wasn’t the time for his explanation, not with the hum of the lawnmower, and his ranch hand looking on.
“I’ll finish this section.” He climbed a couple steps of the ladder resting against the cabin. “Why don’t you start about midway down over there?” He pointed toward the front corner. If they could knock out this side of the cabin before dark, the scraping job would be done. He pulled his scraper from the back pocket of his jeans and got to work. Lindsey watched him for a short while and started scraping as if she’d been practicing. They worked without talking until his ranch hand turned off the lawnmower and left. Carden had been making good time scraping, but his pace had slowed with the distraction of Lindsey’s long, toned legs.
“Nice basket you brought home.” He wondered who had given it to her but wasn’t sure it was cool to ask. “Cute bear.”
“The Montgomery sisters donated it to the museum,” she said. “The bear, that is, and a pocket watch that belonged to their grandfather. They donated the goody basket to me. I had tea with them today.”
He froze mid-scrape and leveled his gaze on her. “You went to their house?”
Lindsey turned his way. “That place is almost surreal. Like something out of a fairy tale.”
Carden stood on the ladder, dumbfounded. “No one goes to their house. I mean, no one gets invited.”
“Well, I did.” She started scraping again, seeming unaware of what she’d accomplished. “The invitation was gorgeous, and Milly and Merri were delightful. Don’t tell Dean, but I think I’d like to move in with them.”
“They’re quite a pair.” He wasn’t ready to say any more about the Montgomery sisters. Wasn’t sure he should. It was difficult for him to make conversation about anything until he cleared the air about what he’d said last night. But that wasn’t a talk to have while he was busy up on a ladder and she was at the other corner of the cabin. Homes were fairly close here in town, and windows stayed open most of the summer. He might be ready to come clean with Lindsey, but he didn’t want anyone else in their business.
The two of them managed to get the scraping done just before dark, catching another brilliant sunset as they worked. Stars had peeked out before they finally went inside after gathering their tools and stowing the ladder.
“Where’s your truck?” Lindsey asked as he stood at the kitchen sink, washing specks of paint off his hands and forearms.
“Parked over near Larkspur. No sense in driving it a couple of blocks, especially when the work truck was already here.”
“I was surprised to see you when I came home.”
Carden’s pulse ticked. She’d beat him to the sensitive subject of last night. “Looked like you might’ve had tears in your eyes.” He turned off the water and shook his hands over the sink.
Lindsey tossed him a hand towel. “Sometimes fresh-cut grass gets to me.”
Carden faced her, leaned against th
e counter, and dried his hands and arms. “That might be the first thing you’ve said to me that I’m not sure I believe.”
She avoided his gaze and stepped over to the sink to wash up. “Busted.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I acted like a total jackass last night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
She shook her head. Tendrils of her hair that had fallen from her ponytail skimmed her shoulders. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not upset with you. I was just having a moment. You know, missing home—my family and friends—feeling lonesome.”
She turned off the water and Carden gave her the towel, trying to decide if he was relieved or disappointed. She wasn’t upset with him, but did that mean she didn’t care about what had happened between them last night?
Lindsey made a graceful sweeping gesture, towel in hand. “All this is so different for me. The town. The people.” She set her gaze on his. “You.”
So maybe it was a little about him.
He crossed his ankles and nodded. “Then I did need to apologize.”
“Not for being honest. You said you got carried away and it won’t happen again. It’s okay. But if you’re going to be around here working—or even if you aren’t—I’d like to know exactly where we stand.”
Carden drew a deep breath and blew it out with a hiss. “Got an extra beer?”
Lindsey furrowed her brow. “Yeah.” She opened the refrigerator, grabbed two longnecks, and tipped her head toward the couch. “Wanna sit?”
He pushed himself off the counter, took the beer she offered, and followed her to the couch where they’d had their first kiss—as if he would ever forget. The books and papers that had been strewn across it before were now neatly stacked on the coffee table, one lying open on top. He sat close to an end and she settled near the other, stretching her sexy legs out toward him and propping her feet on the coffee table.
