by Taylor Brent
As if conjured by his thoughts, Rose walked into the sitting room with a bottle of brown liquid and two small glasses. She took the seat opposite him and caught his gaze with her dark eyes. She had a square face and high cheekbones just like him, but her chin was pointy where his was square and strong. Her wild jet black hair curled stubbornly although she had tried to tame it by sweeping it up in a bun. Niyol suspected her disposition was as tameable as her hair; it might look like you had her under control, but it was all an illusion. There was a wildness dancing in her mahogany eyes that reminded him of his mother. Rose was more Native American than anything else, and it wasn’t hard to feel connected to her.
“I thought since all the kids went to bed, you and I could talk a little more,” Rose said, her voice low.
“Danny is hardly a kid,” Niyol snorted. “And I don’t think he would appreciate the insinuation that he is.”
Rose shrugged and poured two fingers of the liquid into each glass. “Whiskey,” she said, catching his curious look and handing him a glass.
He took it and sipped a little from the glass. It had a rich, full-bodied flavor, and he could tell it was the expensive stuff. He gazed at Rose. “Have you thought about the long-term of all of us living here?”
Rose looked up, surprised, but then turned thoughtful eyes back to the fire. “A little,” she answered. “I had them create an apartment over the barn so you would have your own space if you wanted it. If not, I could always give it to Danny.”
“I doubt he would leave you here in the house.”
“I think you have the wrong idea about me and Danny,” Rose said, frowning.
Niyol snorted. “Maybe you have the wrong idea about you and Danny.”
Rose scowled. She’d made it a point to ignore Danny’s quiet infatuation, hoping it would pass. Most men would get bored and move on. Danny would do the same… eventually. “The apartment is still yours if you want it.”
“Thank you,” Niyol said, regretting his teasing. There was obviously something going on with her, and he shouldn’t have poked at her about Danny. “What about Jill?”
Rose shrugged. “I figured they would stay here for a time, but I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. I’ve just enjoyed having her here.”
“They’re newlyweds with a baby on the way. They may want their own place soon. Besides, what will happen if they have more kids? This place could get pretty full. That might not be great for business.”
“I see your point,” Rose conceded, staring into the flames.
“There’s a lot of land here,” Niyol supplied. “We could build them a house on the property so they would still be close but would have their own space.”
Rose beamed at him. “Niyol Hunter, you are a genius. That is a perfect solution. Although we wouldn’t be able to start any projects like that until the late spring because of the weather. We can run the idea by them tomorrow if you like.”
Niyol nodded, and they drifted into silence again.
“Has Jill showed you Kate’s diary yet?” Rose asked suddenly.
“No,” Niyol answered. “Was she supposed to?”
“I figured you might want to take a look. Kate was your ancestor, too. Even if not by blood, she still raised your ancestor, and the diary has a lot of information about your namesake and his father. I figured you would be interested.”
Niyol thought about it for a moment. “I do find myself a little intrigued by the woman. It’s obvious she loved her family very much. I’m interested to know how she went from a wife and mother to a brothel owner.”
“She lost her stepson and her husband around the same time the townspeople of Springvale were closing down the brothels in town and kicking the girls out. She took them in when no one else would. Her mother-in-law suggested Kate give the girls room and board in exchange for a cut of their profits. Kate herself never sold her body, but she made a handsome profit off the ones who did, and she protected them. She gave them a home.”
Niyol shot her a wry smile. “Seems the Callahan women make a habit of taking in strays.”
“You aren’t a stray, Niyol,” Rose said sharply. “You’re family.”
“I guess I am.”
“Tell me more about what happened with Margery,” Rose said, changing the subject.
Niyol told her about Margery’s run-in with her ex in more detail than he had the others. He mentioned how Mitchell had called her a bitch in front of everyone and how it had made him angry. He also told Rose about how he and Margery had talked for a while afterward.
As his thoughts drifted back to his time in the diner, Niyol couldn’t help the heat that seared through him. He hadn’t felt this attracted to anyone in years. Part of him wanted to see where things could lead, but the other part of him balked at welcoming another woman into his heart. Of course, he hadn’t spent the last couple of decades alone. Every now and then, he’d found a woman to fill the void in his bed, but it meant little to either of them, and she never stuck around long. With Margery, he knew he would want more than a handful of nights. He would want so much more, and that thought alone terrified him enough to keep his difference.
Rose had other ideas. Her sharp ears hadn’t missed the longing and guilt in Niyol’s voice, and her scheming mind quickly formulated a new plan. She knew she would have to tread carefully; both of their past love lives held so much pain.
“What happened between the two of them?” Niyol asked as if reading her thoughts.
“Mitchell was never right for her,” Rose sighed. “But even I didn’t realize how much of an ass he was, or I would have pushed harder for her ending it before they got married.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mitchell cheated on her constantly… although I’m pretty sure Margery only knows about Cathy, his current wife. When he left her for Cathy, it was humiliating for her. A better man would have been a little more discreet, but Mitchell didn’t care about her or her reputation. Fortunately, most people in town knew Mitchell for who he was and didn’t think bad about Margery in the least.”
Niyol frowned. “I can’t imagine why she would think anyone would blame her.”
“It wasn’t just the cheating,” Rose noted. “Margery’s grandfather helped raise her, and when he died, he left the diner to her, along with a sizeable inheritance. She used most of the inheritance on the diner—which never sat well with Mitchell. She supported him through medical school, but he thought she should sell the diner and use the money to pay off his loans. He wanted her to stay home and have kids or something.”
Niyol scoffed.
“She refused, of course,” Rose continued. “And it kept going downhill from there. You would think since she was supporting him through school, he would support her dreams, but he didn’t. They fought constantly. He wanted kids, but she wanted to wait until he finished school. Even with his interference, Margery managed to renovate and turn the diner around. It gained popularity not just in this town, but in the surrounding towns, too. She turned the diner into a great success, but Mitchell couldn’t handle it.”
“If it was that bad, how come they had a child?”
“They went to counseling, and things got a little better. The diner was doing well, and Mitchell had just gotten hired at the local practice. He was the go-to sports medicine doctor for the local high school. Margery wanted to have kids, and Mitchell didn’t fight her on it. I think, by that time, he had met Cathy and just didn’t care. They had Ainsley, and Margery was sure it would bring them closer… but it didn’t. It seemed to do just the opposite. Two years after Ainsley was born, Mitchell left them for Cathy, claiming he’d never wanted Ainsley and that he didn’t love Margery. He can be horrible to Ainsley sometimes, and Ainsley is too young to understand that it’s not her he resents. I don’t even think it’s Margery he resents.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Niyol muttered darkly.
“If you ask me, he’s insecure, and Margery’s success threatened him. He need
ed to be better than her, I think, so he tore her down whenever he could. It was a disaster of a relationship, and it took her a while to get over the rejection and humiliation.”
Niyol thought about what Rose had told him while glaring into the fire. Mitchell’s treatment of Margery angered him, but he told himself he would feel that way with any woman who a man had treated so horribly.
In any case, Margery’s painful past only solidified his resolve to stay away from her. He had made it a point to steer clear of any woman with a dark or tragic history. He had barely survived the pain of losing his wife, and he didn’t want to chance ever going through that again.
Niyol knew it would be a risk to get involved with Margery. Her beauty and light enveloped everyone with whom she interacted. It had certainly overwhelmed him. He had felt the tension and worry melt off him in waves the longer he had talked with her. Margery’s laughter had been infectious, drawing him in and warming his worn and tired soul. If he got involved and then lost her, he would never survive it.
Besides, he thought, he was here for Jill, not Margery.
“So, Margery is alone this weekend?” Rose asked casually, breaking the silence.
“Yes, I believe so. Her daughter is with Mitchell.”
“Would you mind hopping over to the diner tomorrow and inviting her to dinner? I don’t like her being all by herself, and I could use her help with some Thanksgiving recipes I want to try out.”
“Why me?” Niyol asked, alarmed.
“Because I’m helping Jill and Luke with the nursery tomorrow and can’t do it myself. Danny will be too busy. Besides, I can’t send an employee to invite my best friend to dinner. I can, however, send my cousin.”
Niyol hesitated.
“Please, Niyol? You would be doing both Margery and me a big favor.”
“Fine,” Niyol agreed. “But I want to spend time with Jill, Rose. That is part of the reason I’m here. A big part of the reason I’m here.”
“I know,” Rose said, rising from the chair. “I’ll make sure you get plenty of time with her.”
She left Niyol in the sitting room, gazing into the fire, and sought her own bed. It was going to be a busy couple of weeks, and she needed all the rest she could get.
Chapter Four: Getting To Know You
Niyol made the short trek into town the next afternoon, kicking himself for agreeing to this favor. He’d sensed Rose was up to more than just a simple dinner invitation when she had asked him to go see Margery, but he hadn’t felt the need to examine things further.
After thinking about it all morning, however, he knew it would be a bad idea to spend any more time with Margery. She had captivated him upon their first meeting, and she was sure to do so again. Still, he had agreed to Rose’s weird request, and there was no turning back now.
He was probably overreacting, anyway. What could Rose be up to? It was just a friend reaching out to another for comfort and companionship. And Rose had been busy this morning and through the afternoon helping Jill and Luke set up the nursery.
Niyol slipped out of his car and made the brisk walk from the lot and up the hill to historic downtown Springvale. The weather had turned even colder than the day before with a distinct smell of rain in the air. If the temperature kept dropping, that rain would turn to ice and snow.
As he stepped into the warm diner, he shook off the cold and melancholy of his ride into town. Glancing around, he took the time to appreciate the restaurant’s beauty. Margery had put a lot of thought and love into the renovations. Pairs of comfortable chairs and sofas mixed with wood tables and chairs padded in an array of bright colors to furnish the eclectic dining area. The large stone fireplace gave off ambient heat, the sound of crackling lending to the comforting atmosphere. Tasteful western-style decor adorned the walls, adding to the Old West feel of the place. The breakfast counter sat to the right of the doors, and Niyol noticed that old wagon wheels covered the front of it, a detail he’d missed yesterday. He had been too busy trying not to listen to the fight brewing between Margery and Mitchell to pay much attention to the decor. Then, when Margery had turned her attention to him, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her.
Niyol walked toward the counter and took a seat on one of the barstools. He didn’t have to wait long before a young waitress came to take his order.
“What can I get for ya?” she asked, smiling brightly at him.
“I’m looking for Margery.”
“Lucky Margery,” the waitress said, giving him an appreciative look that ended in a wink before flouncing off to get Margery. At least, Niyol hoped that was where she was going. He wasn’t used to such blatant flirting, and it made him uneasy.
“Niyol?” The sound of Margery’s soft alto made his heart skip a beat.
“Margery,” he answered, turning and giving her a small smile as she walked up to him.
“I know for a fact that Rose Callahan is just as good a cook as I am, so what are you doing back here so soon?” she asked, her voice full of laughter.
“It was Rose that sent me,” Niyol answered with a chuckle. He couldn’t help but brighten when her smile and laughter were so contagious. “She wants you to come to dinner tonight.”
“She does? Whatever for?”
Niyol shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “I may have mentioned your fight with your ex and that you were alone for the weekend.”
Margery pursed her lips but said nothing.
“She also wants your help with some recipes,” Niyol added quickly, his face turning red. “For Thanksgiving, I believe.”
Margery hesitated, but it had been a while since she’d a long talk with Rose. And anyway, she hadn’t felt too excited about going home to an empty house and obsessing over how Ainsley was doing at Mitchell’s house. A night with her best friend would cheer her up.
“I guess I can come for dinner.” She glanced at the clock. “I can leave in an hour. I want to make sure everyone is ready for the dinner rush. And then, I have to run by my house to change and grab the recipe cards.”
Niyol nodded. “I can wait.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Nonsense,” Niyol answered. “I would be more than happy to drive you to the inn and then back to your house.”
Margery bit her lip. “Well…”
“It looks like it might snow,” Niyol explained. “I have four-wheel drive, and Rose would kill me if anything happened to you on the way there.”
Margery smiled. She had driven in snow many times before—you couldn’t live in Utah your entire life and not drive in bad weather—but it was nice to have someone worried about her for a change. Besides, she did not have four-wheel drive on her car. The pass through the canyon to Rose’s inn was rough at the best of times, never mind during bad weather. If it snowed, her little car wouldn’t make it, and she would have to turn around.
“You’re right,” Margery said to Niyol. “I’ll be just an hour, and then you can follow me to my house.”
Niyol nodded and settled into one of the plush armchairs by the fire to wait. Margery gazed at him for a few moments, appreciating the casual grace with which he moved and the strong lines of his face before mentally shaking herself and rushing off to do her work.
Normally, she wouldn’t invite a man she barely knew back to her house, even if it was just to drop her car off and change real quick. But there was something about Niyol that told her she could trust him—and he was Rose’s cousin, after all. Rose was an excellent judge of character, and she would never send someone she didn’t trust to pick up Margery.
After forcing her mind off Niyol and back onto her work, Margery finished getting the diner ready for the dinner rush in only forty-five minutes. Niyol had said he didn’t mind waiting, but her experience with Mitchell had taught her that men rarely liked to wait on women, so she was glad she had finished up early.
“All done,” she said brightly as she walked up to Niyol’s armchair. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”<
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Niyol gave her an odd look and glanced at his watch as he stood. “You said an hour, and it only took forty-five minutes. Why are you sorry if you finished early? Besides, I told you I didn’t mind waiting for you. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” And with that, he turned and strode toward the door.
Margery stared after him. He hadn’t said it unkindly, but rather as if he wanted to convey something more than his words. She wondered what he had heard about her, and why he was being so nice to her. In her limited experience, men weren’t this attentive unless they wanted something.
Stop that, she chastised herself as she followed Niyol out the door and into the cold November evening. Not everyone is like Mitchell. Niyol is being nice to you because you are Rose’s friend and he is a good guy. Don’t look for problems where there are none.
As they neared the parking lot, Margery gestured to her small, four-door sedan. “I’m over here.”
“I’ll follow you,” Niyol said, smiling.
He watched her slip into her car and start it before heading to his SUV parked not too far from her. He followed her out of the parking lot and down a few back roads until she turned off onto a long gravel drive that ran for about a mile off the main road, thick woods closing in on both sides. She stopped just outside a small cottage nestled at the base of an enormous red cliff. He could see the mountains in the distance as he pulled in behind her car.
Sliding out of the driver’s seat, Niyol gazed around her small front yard. Margery had kept up a yard full of lush green grass that was only just now turning brown for the winter. Trees lined the yard, adding to the privacy of the secluded lot on which the cottage sat. Old stonework covered the front of the cottage, and ivy climbed up the stones, giving it a woodsy feel.
