“No, maybe not in Timberland, but your sister knows how to use a camera and film a movie.”
Holly raised a skeptical gaze toward her mother as she retrieved spoons from the drawer. “Ivy?” She chuckled. “Mom, we were just kids back then. We were playing around at being on a movie-set. Don’t you remember?”
Grinning, her mother shook her head. “I’m guessing you haven’t kept in close contact with Ivy since you moved to California.”
As she brought the pan of soup to the table, guilt grew inside of Holly and she frowned. “No, I haven’t.”
“Well, while your sister has been going to college, she also works part-time at a television news station. She’s one of the camera crew.” Mom shrugged. “Apparently, playing around with you when you were kids helped her get a job.”
Shock shook through Holly and she sat at the table. “This is great, Mom. I’ll call Ivy to see if she can help me.” She laughed. “It will be like old times, won’t it?”
Happiness spread over her mother’s wrinkled face, making her green eyes twinkle. “It sure will.”
Holly ladled the soup into hers and her mother’s bowls. Excitement grew inside of Holly the more she thought about this project. Now it didn’t matter that she was upset with Rafe, she wanted to do it. She would try to put her irritation with him aside in order to do this. But, she still needed to get his approval. Perhaps she should have her mother ask. He wouldn’t be able to turn the older woman down.
The doorbell chimed just as Holly had finished filling her bowl with soup. Her mother swung in her chair and looked toward the front door.
“I’ll get it, Mom.” Holly hurried to the door and opened it. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into the big, amber eyes of a very handsome man.
RAFE’S HEARTBEAT THUMPED wildly as he gazed at Holly. She was breathtaking with her hair hanging down around her shoulders. She wore a light green, long-sleeved sweater that buttoned at the neck, and black jeans that fitted tightly to her slender legs. Her green eyes held a touch of hesitation as she peered at him. Of course, their last conversation hadn’t ended very nicely, either.
“Hi,” he said nicely. “I’m returning your boots.”
He handed them to her, and she took them.
“And, is Georgia here?” With his other hand, he lifted the apple pie he’d baked this morning. “I brought her something special.”
“Rafe Montgomery?” Mrs. Kidman’s voice asked from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
Holly stepped back and thankfully, allowed him entrance. He stepped inside. “Yes, Georgia, it’s me.”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
He glanced at Holly, hoping for an invitation. She gave him a half shrug and motioned her hand toward the kitchen as she placed her boots against the wall. But before he could go, he had to say something to break the awkward silence between them.
“You look really pretty in that color.” After he’d said, it he wanted to kick himself. He sounded like a dope. She blinked at him with wide eyes, clearly surprised.
“Uh, thank you, Rafe.”
He moved into the kitchen, afraid that if he stayed alone with Holly any longer he might say something else that made him look like a high-school kid with an infatuation.
Georgia sat on a chair as she leaned against the table. Her smile grew wide as he walked to her. He stopped beside her, bent, and kissed the top of her head. “You’re looking mighty pretty for someone who has just broken their leg.” He placed the pie on the table. “This is for you.”
“Oh, Rafe.” She beamed and patted his arm. “You are the sweetest man. You know how much I love your apple pie.” She glanced over her shoulder toward Holly who stood just inside the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. “Rafe makes excellent pies.”
Holly arched an eyebrow. “How interesting.”
She pulled away and sauntered past him to the table and sat. He couldn’t stop watching her, and the almost sultry way she stared at him.
She pointed to the empty chair. “Would you like to have supper with us?”
Rafe’s palms suddenly became moist, and his heart was tripping all over the place. What was wrong with him? “No, thanks—”
“He would love to,” Georgia interrupted. “Wouldn’t you, Rafe? I know you’re just dying to taste Holly’s award-winning potato soup.”
He glanced at Holly. “Award-winning?”
“Yes. When I was in high-school, I entered my soup in the fair. I won first prize.”
A smile pulled wide on his face, even though he wished it hadn’t. “Then I would be delighted to try your soup, as long as you try my award-winning apple pie.”
Holly hiccupped a laugh. “Let me guess. You entered it in the fair, too.”
He nodded. “You read my mind.”
“Grab yourself a bowl and spoon, Rafe,” Georgia said. “You remember where they are.”
“Yes, Ma’am, I do.”
After he grabbed a bowl and spoon, he sat. Holly dished some soup into his bowl, giving him a leery grin the whole time. It made him a little uncomfortable, only because he couldn’t read her mind. He doubted she had forgiven him for blaming her the other day, only because he hadn’t forgiven himself for being so foolish.
The ladies grew quiet as he took his first bite. When his taste-buds kicked in, he nearly sighed with enjoyment. This was the best potato soup he’d ever tasted. He tasted bacon, onion, celery, carrots, and of course, potatoes. But there was just something about the cream sauce and texture that made his mouth sing with happiness.
He nodded. “This is delicious. Better than Blake’s potato soup.”
Both women chuckled and relaxed before they started eating. For the first few moments, there was silence, but mother and daughter kept exchanging secret glances that had him suspicious. Had Holly told Georgia what happened between them the other day?
Georgia took a sip of her milk before turning to Rafe. “I heard a rumor that I don’t want to believe.”
He swallowed the food in his mouth. “What did you hear?”
“That you’re selling your ranch.”
He stilled the progress of the spoon getting to his mouth. “You heard that?”
“Well, actually, Holly overheard it.”
Quickly, he switched his attention to her. She threw her mother a glare, but then composed herself when she met his eyes.
“I actually heard it while I was grocery shopping yesterday.”
“You were at the store?”
“Yes. I overheard you talking to Shawn.”
He relaxed his shoulders and rested his arm on the edge of the table. “I didn’t know you were there.”
She shrugged.
“I couldn’t believe what Holly told me,” Georgia said. “You can’t possibly want to sell the ranch.”
He leaned back in the chair. “I’ve been seriously thinking about it, yes.”
“But why?” She clutched his upper arm. “That ranch has been in your family for generations.”
“Yes, it has, but Georgia, cattle ranchers aren’t making much of a profit any longer. Not only that, my brothers all have their own families, and they don’t have time to help on the ranch. Blake, Luca, and myself, all have college degrees, and yet working on the ranch isn’t allowing us to use those degrees.”
Georgia frowned. “I just can’t imagine Timberland without the Montgomery Ranch. I mean, it’s part of the town’s heritage.”
“I’m torn over this decision, too. Part of me wants to keep the ranch thriving, and yet the other part of me wants to be the doctor I went to college for.”
“When will you put the ranch up for sale?” Holly asked.
He turned his attention back to her. “Probably around the first of next year.”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, softly drumming manicured fingernails on the table. “Well, I might have a way to either help you get more profit for the ranch, or to help you sell it.”
His interest was p
iqued, and he sat up straight in his chair. “What’s that?”
Linking her fingers together, she leaned toward him. Her gaze locked on his, and he enjoyed having her full attention.
“As you know, I’ve co-produced a few low-budget films with other producers for a few years now, and I’ve been waiting for inspiration on what to do when I make my own movie.” She inhaled deeply, and then released it. “Because the props and costumes were ruined for the Christmas program, I’ve been wondering where to have it. When I overheard that you wanted to sell the ranch, I suddenly was inspired to have it at your ranch. Christ’s stable could be in your barn, and your animals could be in the movie, too. Mom has already picked out characters, and she’ll sew new costumes.” She paused and lifted her eyebrow. “So, would you be all right if we held the program at the ranch this year, and allow me to make it into a movie?”
Rafe was speechless – whether it was her beautiful, green eyes that entrapped him, or it was the idea of her being at his ranch every day until the movie was made, he didn’t know. The beat of his heart increased, and the mere idea of seeing her every day until Christmas created a burst of excitement inside of him.
He swallowed, moistening his suddenly dry throat. “Will you need someone to make the props? My cousins and I are really handy when it comes to wood.”
A genuine smile lit her face, making her green eyes twinkle like priceless gems. She nodded, keeping her gaze on his face.
“Yes, that would be wonderful.”
The air between them crackled with awareness. Just as before when he’d stared into her eyes for too long, the urgency to kiss her rushed over him. Everything closed around him, as if they were the only two people in the room. All he could see was her pretty face, her heart-stopping smile, and the way her long eyelashes swept over her lids when she blinked slowly.
Whether she knew it or not, her actions were beguiling. An invisible hold over his desire for her had been unleashed, and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her passionately.
The thrilling thing was, her face was alight with untold yearnings, as well. Suddenly, he knew why he’d been thinking about her all morning, and had the urge to return her boots and take one of his pies over. Being with Holly was his very reason to breathe and to feel.
Never had he felt this much emotion, but he knew he must act upon his feelings before she leaves his life, once again.
EIGHT
Holly was literally lost in Rafe’s eyes. Why his smoldering gaze held her prisoner, she wished she knew. But at this moment, she wasn’t sure she liked the way her heart had started to melt. As she tried to shake off the haze in her mind, she tried to convince herself that she felt this way because of the movie project. She was going to make it happen!
Her mother clapped her hands and laughed joyfully. “I told you he’d help.” She nodded toward Holly. “The Montgomery men are very talented when it comes to making things out of wood.”
Rafe snapped out of the hypnosis that he appeared to be under, and turned to look at Holly’s mother. He smiled.
“You are too kind, Georgia.”
“I’m only telling the truth.” She chuckled lightly. “Holly was afraid you’d say no to her idea. I’m glad I was correct in assuming you would help.”
When Rafe met Holly’s stare again, her heart did a silly flip. She cursed her body’s reaction.
“If my parents were alive,” he said in a deep voice as he touched her hand, “they’d be thrilled to know you want the program held at the ranch this year.”
Warmth spread over her as tingled danced up her arm from where his hand rested. “I’m glad.”
“So,” Georgia said loudly, “when can we get started?”
Holly pulled away from Rafe and tried to focus her mind on the movie project. “Well, I’ll need to call Ivy and see if she can help. If she can’t, I’ll need to find someone else to fill her place.”
“And I’ll get started on sewing new costumes.” Her mother smiled.
“And I’ll,” Rafe said, “get my cousins and we’ll start making the props.”
Excitement ran amok through Holly, and she didn’t want to stop it this time. This was going to happen. Her dream would finally come true.
“Then let’s finish eating,” she motioned to her soup, “and have some of Rafe’s award-winning apple pie, because we have a lot to do in the next few days.”
Holly remained quiet while her mother and Rafe carried on a conversation. First, they started talking about her broken leg, and then that evolved into talking about what was going on around town. Although Holly tried to pay attention to what they were saying, her mind spun with ideas. This would definitely be a low-budget film, but only because they were putting it together at the last minute. However, after the filming, she could add the score, and edit the scenes – nothing that she hadn’t done before.
Then there was the matter of asking Rafe if she could camp out in one of his guest bedrooms. If Ivy was onboard with the filming, she’d eventually have to stay there too, at least until after filming was completed.
There was so much to do, with so little time.
Once she finished her soup, she pushed away from the table. She took her bowl and spoon to the sink, rinsed them off, and placed them in the dishwasher. She turned to find both her mother and Rafe looking at her strangely.
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“Dear, didn’t you hear what Rafe asked?”
“Um, no. Sorry.” Holly gave him a sheepish grin. “I was caught up in my thoughts.”
Chuckling, he stood and took his bowl and spoon to the sink. “I had asked if you wanted to get the plates and forks for my pie. But now that I’m standing, I’ll do it.”
Embarrassment crept over her. This particular emotion liked sneaking up on her whenever Rafe was around. “Sorry.”
“No, problem.” He took down three plates, and in the drawer, reached for three forks.
“Rafe,” Holly said, “why do you know the layout of my mom’s kitchen so well?”
He gave her a wink before moving to the table. “Because over the past few years, I’ve helped your mother with a lot of things, and she rewards me by putting food in my belly.”
Holly laughed. She didn’t know why it made her so uncomfortable that he and her mother were such good friends. “I guess it’s true what they say, then.”
Rafe glanced over his shoulder at her. “What’s that?”
“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” After she’d said it, her cheeks burned from mortification again. What was wrong with her? Why did she have to say it that way?
She quickly turned back to the sink to rinse out Rafe’s dirty dishes. Within seconds, she inhaled his masculine scent of cedar as he stood beside her, reaching back in the drawer and picking up a knife.
He grinned at her. “Yes, it’s true.” He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “Your soup was the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Was it his warm breath or his words that created havoc inside of her? Her heartrate quickened, and her limbs weakened with desire. Why did he say it that way? Was there a hidden meaning somewhere in that sentence? Stop it, Holly! He’ll just break your heart. Again.
Trying to find some dignity, she straightened her shoulders and met his desirous gaze. She cleared her throat. “Then maybe I’d better not eat some of your pie.”
He didn’t remove his stare, but soon, one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other. “But it’s only fair. I tried your cooking, so you need to try mine.”
“Yes, dear. Have a taste of his pie. You’ll love it.”
Inwardly, Holly groaned. That’s the very thing she was afraid of... loving.
“Fine. I’ll have a taste.”
His smile softened and he walked back to the table. She added the rinsed dishes to the dishwasher before going back. He stood by her chair, pulling it out for her as he motioned for her to sit. She really wished she could find a
flaw in him. He was such a gentleman, like her father had been. Rafe had a kind heart. He was talented with wood. She’d bet anything his pie tasted heavenly. So then, what was his flaw? No man was perfect.
Holly sat and waited for him to cut the slices of pie and place them on the plates. She pushed her fork into the soft, crust and lifted it to her mouth. Rafe watched her, which made her nervous for some reason.
Once the food was in her mouth, she realized it didn’t taste too starchy. She’d never been able to find an apple pie that had the perfect blend between the spices and the apples. Now she had.
Closing her eyes, she sighed, enjoying for the first time, the best apple pie... and just like the man who’d made it, the pie was perfect.
Holly snapped her eyes open and peered at Rafe who wore a very satisfied smile. He was not perfect. There had to be something wrong with him.
“Can I presume you like it?” he asked in a cocky tone.
“Yes, I like it. You knew I would.”
“You’re right. I did know it.”
Holly took another bite. “So tell me, Mr. Perfect... um, I mean, Mr. Perfect Pie Maker,” she quickly corrected herself. She couldn’t believe she had said her thoughts aloud.
“Yes.” He rested his elbow on the table and leaned toward her while his chin rested in his hand.
“What other things can you do that are perfect?”
“Oh, Holly.” Her mother cackled. “There isn’t anything this man can’t do perfectly.”
Rafe shook his head at her mother. “No, Georgia. I’m not perfect. Far from it.”
“Well, you certainly haven’t shown me that.” Holly’s mom took another bite of her pie.
“There are lots of things I’m not good at.” Sitting back in his chair, he folded his arms. “Although I love to bake pies, if you ask me to make spaghetti, I’d burn it. If you asked me to boil eggs, I’d burn those, too.”
Holly chuckled.
“I wasn’t a perfect brother, being the middle child. You can ask any of my brothers about that. And,” he glanced at Holly,” I wasn’t really that good a football player in high school.”
A Thrill of Hope Page 9