Boone

by Emily March

  “Come again? A Zippo?”

  He smiled for the first time since his arrival. “Light. Friends and family are a source of light and shelter from life’s storms. She told me to be somebody’s light, and that’s what I’m trying to do. That’s how I’m going to earn my Angel’s Rest blazon.”

  Hannah murmured beneath her breath, “Be somebody’s light.”

  Boone traced the rim of his coffee cup with his index finger. “You were the first friend who popped into mind during my storm this morning, so that’s why I came running here for help.”

  Be somebody’s light. “Why don’t you want to ask your mother for help?”

  “She wants to be a grandmother more than just about anything in life. She was devastated each time the adoptions fell through, and when Mary died, it came close to breaking her. She’s had some heart irregularities in the past year, so I don’t want to cause her any extra stress. I can’t ask my sisters because those two can’t keep a secret for beans. But I do have friends, both here and in Texas. I just need to figure out who to approach.”

  Be somebody’s light. Some flicker of emotion sparked to life inside of Hannah. Was it hope or excitement or fear? She couldn’t say.

  “I probably should give Celeste a call and explain my problem,” Boone continued. “She’s Eternity Springs’ ultimate problem solver. I’m sure she’ll have an idea.” He gave Hannah a crooked smile and added, “Celeste has a way about her. You can always count on her to offer insight into a problem, if not an outright solution. She tends to prefer to guide a person rather than tell them what to do.”

  Hannah reflected on her interaction with Celeste at the boutique last week. The innkeeper had a subtle way of suggestion. “I can see that. I met her cousin at the wedding. She appeared to have a different approach.”

  “Angelica?” Boone laughed softly. “She’s different from Celeste, all right. She doesn’t hesitate to give her opinion, and she has one of those on just about every topic under the sun.”

  “She told me my dress was great, but that I’d look so much better if the color was yellow.”

  Boone rolled his eyes. “The dress was great. You looked like a million bucks.”

  “Celeste guided me toward it.”

  They shared a smile, and before she could second-guess herself, Hannah said, “I’ll go to Texas.”

  His gaze snapped to meet hers. “Seriously?”

  Her heart pounded like a piston. “Yes. I won’t commit to six weeks, which I’m guessing will be the earliest time your nanny would be discharged from her doctor, but I will be your travel nanny. I’ll help you bring Trace home to Eternity Springs.”

  I’ll be your light.

  “A travel nanny. That’s good. I can work with this.” Boone closed his eyes and exhaled a heavy breath. “Thank you. Oh, Hannah. Thank you!”

  He shoved to his feet and, in two long strides, moved around the bar. He threw his arms around Hannah, lifted her off her feet, and twirled her around. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You are an angel, Hannah. My personal angel.”

  And then, because Boone McBride was the very devil, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

  * * *

  Boone recognized he might have taken a step too far when he kissed her again, but damn, he’d have kissed an ancient old crone with whiskers and warts if she’d just solved his problem. That said, he wouldn’t have kissed an ancient old crone with such enthusiasm or fervor. Or passion.

  Damn, but kissing Hannah Dupree stoked his coals.

  When he’d finally begun dating again after Mary’s death, he’d been content with sharing a series of casual relationships with like-minded women. He’d been in a dry spell of late, and while he missed sex, he hadn’t missed it enough to go looking for it.

  Hannah Dupree changed the paradigm.

  For one thing, his response to her was anything but casual. The woman called to him in a way that no woman had since Mary. She was beautiful, intelligent, and witty. She was vulnerable in that way that appealed to the hero wannabe aspect of his character that apparently hadn’t died with his wife. One would think that another vulnerable woman would have him running the other way, but no. Not when that woman was Hannah Dupree.

  So what was different about her?

  He’d put some thought into the question the night after the wedding when he’d woken from a deliciously erotic dream in which Hannah had been wearing a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader uniform. Once he’d wrestled his libido under control, he’d figured it out. Beneath that vulnerability and the sadness swimming in those big blue eyes, he sensed a core of steel. Hannah was bent, but she wasn’t broken. She was fighting her way back, and he wanted to help her.

  Wasn’t it handy, then, that she was willing to help him, and that she felt like heaven in his arms?

  Until she wrenched her mouth away from him, and her hands, which had lifted to encircle his neck, dropped between them. She pushed against his chest. “No. Put me down.”

  Reluctantly, he lowered her feet to the floor.

  Her tone sharp and scolding, she glared up at him. “If we do this, we are not going to do this.”

  He knew better than to pretend that he didn’t follow her meaning, and he wasn’t about to do anything to make her change her mind. “Okay. Okay.”

  “Hands off.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No kissing.”

  “It was a thank-you kiss. I’m a Texan. We’re demonstrative that way.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m a traveling hermit. I’m not demonstrative.”

  “A traveling hermit? Oh, Hollywood, you’re funny.” He backed away, his hands up in surrender, but he added in his thick, sexy drawl, “And by the way. You demonstrate just fine.”

  Then without allowing her a chance to return fire, he launched into planning mode. “Pack what you need through the weekend, but don’t worry about getting everything. We can always pick up what we need there. I have movers due to arrive in—” He glanced at his watch. “—fifteen minutes. It shouldn’t take them more than an hour. Can you be ready to leave by then?”

  “I can, but movers?”

  “Guest bedroom furniture out, nursery furnishings in.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “If you get ready and want to walk on over to the house, I’d be grateful to have your input on anything else we might need. We can get it ordered and on the way so that it’ll be here when we bring him home. The order was a lot of guesswork on my part.”

  “Of course. It won’t take me long to pack.”

  “Just leave your bag on the porch, and we can pick it up on the way out. Be sure to bring a swimsuit and a sweater. It’s hotter than blazes in Texas this week, but air-conditioned buildings can be downright cold.” He hesitated before adding, “Again, I can’t thank you enough, Hannah. You’re a lifesaver.”

  He saw immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. Pain flashed across her face like lightning. Not for the first time, Boone wondered what the story was behind her children’s drowning.

  While he searched futilely for the right words, a wan smile replaced the pain on Hannah’s face. She said, “You’d better get back for the movers. I’ll be along shortly.”

  Boone knew when to beat a strategic retreat. Ten minutes later, he opened his front door to Bill Johnson, of Johnson and Sons Movers. “Hey, Bill.”

  “Morning, Boone. You ready for us?”

  “Sure am. Let me show you where to start.” He led the way upstairs to the bedroom he’d chosen for Trace, explained what he required, gave them a photo and design plan, then left the men to do their work. As he packed his bag, he reflected on the harrowing forty-three minutes between the phone call from Texas, and the moment his family departed. He’d had a helluva time keeping the worry from his manner while interacting with his family. More than once, he’d come close to fessing up to his mom, but instead, he’d pinned his hopes on Hannah.

  Thank God she hadn’t let him down. It had been his lucky day when
he’d decided to let his little Zippo shine. Doing so lit the way for both of them, didn’t it? Wonder if Celeste had anticipated that. Of course she had.

  He had his bag packed and in the back of his Land Rover when Hannah arrived. He was happy to see she carried a duffel and wore a backpack. Not that he’d expected her to beg off, but he wouldn’t relax entirely until they were wheels up.

  He stowed her bags before leading her upstairs, where Bill and his men were well on their way to being finished. He picked up a small leather portfolio from the table on the landing where he’d left it and handed it to her. “For notes about what I’ve forgotten.”

  He led her to the doorway of the nursery, watching avidly for her reaction. She visibly melted. “Oh, Boone. It’s darling. Just darling.”

  He preened beneath her approval, even as he said, “Don’t give me too much credit. I found a photo I liked on Pinterest and ordered everything in the picture.” He’d gone with a forest theme in earth-tone colors. The crib, changing table, and dresser were made from knotty pine, and the accessories included a moose lamp and a “bearskin” rug.

  “There’s more stuff in the room next door. A few toys. Lots of things that rock and swing and play music. I don’t know where to put it, and I forgot all about buying clothes.”

  Hannah opened the portfolio and jotted a few notes. “Let’s see the other room.”

  “It’s the second door on the right.” He gestured for her to lead the way down the hall. There, Hannah stopped abruptly. “A few toys?”

  He offered an abashed grin and lifted his shoulders.

  “An electric race car set? A bike? Remote control cars? Getting a little head of yourself and Trace, don’t you think?”

  “There’s a Baby Einstein play station in there somewhere too.”

  Hannah shook her head, stepped into the room, and began surveying the boxes. “Did you order bottles?”

  “Yes. And talk about a difficult decision. There are dozens of brands and sizes and styles. How do you know what to buy?”

  “Let me guess,” she drily replied. “You bought some of them all.”

  “Well, yeah. I can donate what we don’t use to women’s shelters.”

  She muttered something about generosity and more money than sense. At the same time, she inspected the contents of what he now considered the overflow room. Pretty soon, she was humming a tune. Recognizing it, he groaned. “‘This Old Man’? Seriously. Thanks for the earworm, Hannah. I’ll be knick-knack paddy-whacking all day. That’s the worst.”

  “No,” she absently replied. “‘Wheels on the Bus’ is the absolute worst.”

  “Great. Just great.” He shook his head and signaled a retreat. “I’m going to go write Bill his check.”

  Bill and his crew took Boone’s request for speed to heart, and they finished up twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Boone doubled the tip for each worker. “You seven men are the only people who know what was delivered to my house today. I know how small-town gossip is. There’s another C-note in it for each of you if you keep the news to yourselves until I return.”

  “We are nothing if not discreet,” Bill said. He folded his check and cash tip and slipped them into his shirt pocket. “It’s all part of the job.”

  With the movers gone, Boone went in search of Hannah. He found her in the kitchen unpacking baby bottles and loading them into the sterilizer. “You ready to go?”

  “Give me five more minutes, and I’ll have this all set up for you to run when you get home.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Forty minutes later, they were in the air. It was Hannah’s first trip on a private jet. They talked airplanes for a bit before conversation switched to baby gear and child-rearing challenges. However, as they drew closer to landing, Boone lapsed into silence.

  The day he’d left Fort Worth, Texas, he’d intended never to return. He’d skipped weddings and funerals and the Fort Worth Stock Show—the favorite event of his youth. He’d inconvenienced his family and disappointed his friends and cut ties with his former colleagues because doing otherwise meant he’d have to go home and face his failures.

  Now here he was aboard a jet approaching the landing path to Meacham Field on the north side of the city. “I’m a bundle of nerves,” he admitted to Hannah.

  “Not exactly what a person wants to hear from the man who employs the pilot who is landing the plane,” she drily observed.

  It was just the light touch of humor he needed to hear at the moment. As the Cessna landed smoothly a few minutes later, he was ever so glad to have Hannah Dupree at his side.

  The heat of the summer afternoon hit like a fist when they exited the plane and walked toward the car he’d ordered. Wincing, Hannah said, “Oh, wow. I expected it to be hot, but this is crazy. You can hardly breathe, it’s so hot.”

  “It’s why what seems like half of Texas flees to the mountains in the summer. I checked the forecast. Supposed to hit a hundred and five today.”

  “Tell me why I agreed to leave Eternity Springs this morning?”

  “Because you’re my friend and you have a heart as big as this state.” Then, because his fundamental nature hadn’t changed, he added, “Just so you know, I think you’re hot as Texas too.”

  She chided him with a smirk, but he thought she looked pleased with the compliment.

  Soon they were on their way to the downtown hotel where he’d upgraded his reservation to a two-bedroom suite before leaving Eternity Springs. As he watched the familiar skyline grow larger with their approach, his melancholy returned. Inside himself, he felt as if someone had cranked down the air conditioner to freezing.

  He had thought he’d left his ghosts behind in Enchanted Canyon when he’d decided to adopt the child. He’d spent the long weekend hiking the canyon trails and thinking about history—his own and that of people who had gone before. While poking around the ghost town that brought the Old West to life, he’d reflected on the cowboys and Comanche, and the desperadoes and fallen women who’d called the canyon home. Sinners and cast-outs with debts to pay.

  Debts to pay.

  He’d camped the last night in the outlaw enclave. There, he’d blown the mental safe where he’d locked away the past and allowed his ghosts to mingle with the troubled souls of an earlier time. Right there in the middle of Ruin, he’d released his memories, released the grief.

  He’d faced his ghosts—the wife he’d lost, the child stolen from him by the woman he’d counted as a friend. The people and events that had shattered his heart and tormented his soul. When he’d returned home to Colorado, he’d thought he’d put those ghosts to rest. Judging by the chill running through his veins right this moment, he’d thought wrong.

  His ghosts had hitched a ride and settled in, turning his blood cold as the limo driver took them past the jewelry store where he’d bought Mary’s engagement ring, and the steak house where he and his wife had celebrated their final anniversary. When his gaze lit upon the office tower that housed the law firm where he’d once worked, the chill in his blood turned to ice.

  Blindly, he reached for Hannah’s hand.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve been back since I moved to Eternity Springs. I thought I was prepared for this, but it’s more difficult than I’d imagined.”

  “You left here shortly after your wife’s death?”

  “No. I stayed for eighteen months. I left after…” He closed his eyes and gave his head a shake. “That’s a story for another time. We’re almost to the hotel.”

  It was true. Moments later, their driver pulled up to the hotel entrance and popped the trunk. The bellman brought a cart for their bags, Boone accepted the luggage tag, and then placed his hand at the small of Hannah’s back to escort her through the revolving door into the lobby. He was halfway between the entry and the reception desk when one of those ghosts stepped into his path, and the familiar feminine voice said, “Boone. Oh, Boone. I knew this w
as where you would stay. Welcome home.”

  Ashleigh.

  Chapter Ten

  Hannah’s mouth gaped when Boone marched right past the blonde as if she weren’t there. His jaw had gone hard as steel, his stare was flinty. The hand at Hannah’s back exerted firm pressure to propel her forward.

  “Boone?” the blonde called. “Boone!”

  He ignored her completely, gave his name to the man behind the reception desk, and reached into his pocket for his wallet.

  Hannah took a step away from him and leaned her side against the desk, so she viewed the blonde’s approach. The woman wasn’t giving up, and Hannah didn’t know how to feel about that. The tall, willowy woman dressed in a floral print sundress and heeled sandals attracted attention, especially when her voice rose as she said, “Boone, please. Don’t be this way.”

  The blonde reached out and touched his shoulder. Boone visibly flinched, and Hannah decided how she felt, after all. The Mama Bear in her came out. “Okay. You need to come with me now.”

  She took the blonde by the arm and dragged her away. The woman attempted to plant her feet and resist, but Hannah wasn’t having any of it. “Stop it. You’re making a scene. He’s obviously not going to talk to you now, so you need to step back and reassess.”

  “Who are you?” the blonde demanded, pain flashing across her eyes.

  “His friend.” Hannah continued to propel the woman away from Boone, searching for shelter from prying eyes. Spying a ladies’ room, she headed that way.

  “I’m his friend too, and I have to talk to him. I’ve been trying to talk to him for the longest time now.”

  Hannah tried to ignore the break in the blonde’s voice as she opened the restroom door and guided the woman inside. She couldn’t ignore the tears that flooded her brown eyes. Gentling her voice, she asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Ashleigh. I’m Ashleigh Hart.”

  Ahh. Ashleigh. Hannah remembered the name, and the story Boone had told to go with it. She was his late wife’s best friend, the woman who had introduced them, and the woman whose marriage troubles were worthy of being told in an afternoon soap opera. “He’s mentioned you to me.”