“Maybe you’re not such an idiot, after all.”
“Except that what I feel for Macy, even after only knowing her a few weeks, isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before,” he confided.
She shook her head. “Why can’t you fall for a woman who isn’t carrying child-sized baggage?”
“Everyone’s got baggage,” he pointed out.
“It’s like kids are your kryptonite.”
“You’re mixing your metaphors.”
“I’m trying to knock some sense into your thick head,” she told him. “Do you not remember Isabella?”
“Of course I remember Isabella.” And he remembered Simon, the little boy who’d asked Liam to be his dad. But that was before Izzy decided to reconcile with Simon’s real father.
“You were devastated when she cut you out of her son’s life.”
“That was four years ago,” he pointed out. “And yeah, it sucked for me, but—”
“It sucked for you?” she echoed in a disbelieving tone. “You were gutted.”
She was right. In the years that had passed since, he’d managed to put most of the heartache behind him. But when memories of Simon occasionally surfaced, they were always bittersweet.
Isabella’s son had been three years old when she started dating Liam, about six months after separating from her husband. It hadn’t taken him long to become attached to the little guy who enjoyed building blocks and piggyback rides. Then Izzy had decided to give her husband—and her marriage—another chance.
Liam had been devasted. He hadn’t been in love with Izzy, but he’d fallen hook, line and sinker for her kid. With a little time and distance, he’d come to accept that she’d done the right thing for her child. Nevertheless, he’d vowed that he wouldn’t ever set himself up for that kind of heartache again.
So yeah, Macy Clayton, mom of eight-month-old triplets, was definitely not his type.
Because if he let down his guard and fell head over heels for Macy and her three children and then she got back together with their father, it would be three times as devastating.
And that was a chance he wasn’t willing to take.
* * *
He should have stayed in town.
With the grand opening scheduled for the following day, Liam had any number of reasons not to make the trek out to the Circle G when he left Katelyn’s office. He made the trek, anyway.
Three hours later, his extremities were so numb he had to look to be sure they were still attached. After parking the ATV in the garage, he stomped his feet on the hard ground to restore circulation and headed to the barn to feed the horses.
He found them already chowing down, proof that someone else had taken care of the chore, so Liam moved to the office for the pot of coffee that was always on the warmer. At this time of day, it would undoubtedly be stale, but right now, he only cared that it was hot.
“Where’ve you been?” Caleb demanded, when Liam walked through the door of the enclosed space.
David was there, too, inputting some data into the computer, but he said nothing to acknowledge the appearance of his eldest son.
Liam shoved his gloves into the pockets of his jacket and reached for a mug. “Up in the northeast pasture, retrieving a lost steer.”
That got his father’s attention—and earned a frown. “One of ours?”
“According to the brand on his flank,” Liam said.
“How the hell did one of ours get away from the herd and all the way out to the northeast pasture?” Caleb wondered aloud.
Liam shrugged, because the how didn’t matter as much as the fact that the steer had got away—and been brought back home again.
David shook his head. “Some things will do anything to escape a life they don’t want.”
Caleb snorted. “I doubt the stupid steer was—oh.” His gaze shifted between his dad and his brother. “You weren’t really talking about the cow,” he realized. “And now that the horses have been fed, I’m going to head up to the house to see if our dinner’s ready.”
When his brother had gone, Liam turned to his father. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”
“It seems that I do,” David acknowledged.
Liam folded his arms over his chest. “Go ahead and say it then.”
“You should know better than to ride that far out on your own and without telling anyone where you’re going.”
And for just a second, Liam thought his dad was worried about him.
David’s follow-up remark quickly disabused him of that notion. “The last thing I need is to send out more men and horses on a rescue mission because you did something foolish.”
“I took an ATV and Wade knew where I was,” Liam said, naming the ranch’s foreman. “He was going to ride out himself, but I said I’d go because his wife’s just getting over the flu and he wanted to get home to check on her.”
“Well, alright, then,” David said.
“That’s it?”
His father shrugged his broad shoulders. “What more do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know—maybe thanks for showing the initiative and retrieving valuable stock.”
“A rancher doesn’t do his job for thanks—he does it because ranching is in his blood.”
“And that brings us full circle now, doesn’t it?”
“I guess it does,” David agreed. “And I guess, since you’re supposedly a hotelier now, I should say ‘thanks.’”
Liam sipped the hot, bitter coffee. “As you’ve pointed out on numerous occasions, you don’t need me around here. So why are you so opposed to me having a life and a career away from the ranch?”
“Because you’re running away.”
“If I was running away, I would have gone farther than town,” he pointed out.
“Are the snow drifts deep in Horseshoe Valley?”
Liam puzzled over the abrupt shift in topic as he lifted his mug to his lips again. “I didn’t go through the valley,” he admitted. “I followed the western boundary.”
“Would’ve been quicker to go through the valley.”
“Maybe,” he allowed.
“No maybe about it,” David said. “But you ride around the valley rather than through it whenever you can, don’t you?”
It was true, though Liam hadn’t realized it himself until just now. Because the valley was where his mother had been riding the day she was thrown from her horse. She’d broken her neck as a result of the fall and died a few hours later. “I got where I needed to be to bring back the damn steer, didn’t I?”
His father nodded. “But until you deal with your grief, you’re always going to be running.”
“Thanks for your concern, but it’s seventeen years too late.”
“You’re right. I didn’t do anything to help you and your brother and sisters at the time, because I was grieving, too.”
“I know,” Liam said, not unsympathetically.
“And it took me a long time to realize it, but I understand now that that’s when and why you started to hate the ranch.”
“I don’t hate the ranch,” he denied.
“That’s good,” David said. “Because your mother loved it. And she loved to ride. And though she would never have chosen to leave her kids without a mother, I’ve found some solace in the fact that she died doing something that she loved.”
“That’s great for you,” Liam said.
David shut down the computer and pushed his chair away from the desk. “We should head up to the house. Martina will be eager to get dinner on the table.”
“Actually, I’m going to go back into town tonight,” Liam decided.
His father frowned. “Why?”
“The grand opening’s tomorrow, and I need to do a final check to ensure everything’s in place.”
“You should have something to eat first.”
Liam knew the words were the verbal equivalent of an olive branch, but there were too many emotions churning inside him right now to allow him to take it. “I’ve got food at the inn.”
David shrugged. “Your call.”
“You could stop by tomorrow,” he suggested. “See what all the fuss is about.”
“I’ve got enough fuss here to worry about.”
As Liam headed back to town, he understood what it meant to be caught between a rock—his father’s stubborn refusal to see any viewpoint but his own—and a hard place, which was the inn, where every room held the echo of Macy’s laughter.
* * *
Macy knew that kissing her boss had been impulsive—and completely unprofessional—but since that one very steamy lip-lock, she tried to convince herself that at least her curiosity had been satisfied. Now she needed to forget about her sexy boss and his toe-curling kisses and focus on the job he’d hired her to do.
But that was easier said than done, because even if she could pretend that her curiosity had been satisfied by the kiss, all her female parts remained dissatisfied. Thankfully, she had plenty to do to keep herself busy on Valentine’s Day—the day Liam had chosen for the grand opening of the Stagecoach Inn.
To her mind, February 14 was no more or less significant than any other day of the year, but that opinion hadn’t prevented her from capitalizing on the date to push Sweetheart Deals at the inn. The upgraded room packages included bubbly wine and chocolate-covered strawberries from Sweet Caroline’s Sweets and/or bouquets of roses from Blossom’s Flower Shop, and they’d proved to be popular options with several of the guests who’d booked rooms for that night.
Although Blossom’s offered delivery, the florist had warned that she couldn’t guarantee the arrangements would arrive by a specific time—especially on Valentine’s Day. So Macy texted Liam—a completely legitimate and totally casual message—asking him to pick up the order so they could ensure they were in the appropriate rooms prior to the arrival of their guests. There would be red roses in each of Doc Holliday, Charles Goodnight and Wild Bill (three dozen! Of course, she figured anyone who could afford the luxury suite could afford three dozen roses—and the champagne and chocolates, too), pink in Annie Oakley and Clark Foss.
When she returned to the lobby after delivering the flowers and double-checking that everything else was as it should be for their expected guests, she found Liam sitting in the chair behind her desk with a single long-stemmed red rose in hand.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, when he offered it to her. “Did it fall out of one of the vases?” And since she hadn’t thought to count when she’d tweaked the arrangements of the flowers, she would have to go back now and—
“No, it didn’t fall out of one of the arrangements,” he assured her. “It’s for you.”
“But...why?”
“Because it’s Valentine’s Day,” he said simply.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given her flowers on February 14—or any other day of the year—and she was absurdly touched by the gesture. And maybe a little wary.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the stem he offered.
“And before you start wondering and worrying, it’s not an overture—it’s just a flower...and maybe an apology.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, gently tracing the velvety edge of a deep red petal with her fingertip. “And you’re forgiven.”
“I meant what I said yesterday, but I didn’t mean it the way I said it,” he explained.
“No need to say anything more,” she assured him.
And then there was no time to say anything more, because the inn’s first guests had arrived.
Clint and Dawna MacDowell were long-time Haven residents celebrating not only Valentine’s Day but their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. They’d been encouraged by their daughter, Hayley, to splurge on a night at the inn, and they walked slowly through the reception area after Macy gave them their key, marveling at all the little details.
Liam led the way, carrying their luggage. And Macy knew exactly when they spotted the antique stagecoach by the doors leading to the courtyard, because she heard Dawna gasp, and Liam patiently answered some questions about the age and origins of the conveyance before nudging them on toward their suite.
There was a steady flow of people in and out throughout the afternoon. Though there were only seven rooms in the hotel—and they were all booked—a lot of locals stopped in to congratulate Liam on his endeavor and wish him success. Having anticipated exactly this, Macy had arranged for complimentary refreshments to be set up in the solarium—coffee, tea and lemonade, along with a variety of cookies and pastries from The Daily Grind. Among the well-wishers were other business owners, friends and family, including Liam’s grandparents and both his sisters—Sky on her way into work at Diggers’, and Kate on her way home from the office.
Liam mingled with the visitors while Macy covered the front desk, checking in guests, taking reservations for future bookings and answering inquiries.
“I know it’s short notice,” Kate said, stopping by the desk on her way out again. “But we’re having a party at the Circle G to celebrate Tessa’s first birthday on Sunday afternoon.”
“That sounds like fun,” Macy said.
“I’m glad you think so, because I’d like you to come.”
“Me?”
“And Ava, Max and Sam, of course,” Kate clarified.
“That’s very kind of you,” Macy said. “But the triplets can be a real handful...are you sure you want them at your daughter’s party?”
The other woman laughed. “Of course, I’m sure. I know first birthday parties are usually more about the parents, but I really want Tessa to meet and make friends with other little ones. Reid has been encouraging me to get her into daycare so we’re not constantly juggling our professional responsibilities along with our daughter, but since I haven’t done that yet, I’m relying on playdates and parties to develop her social skills.”
Macy didn’t really have to worry about that, because Ava, Max and Sam were always together. In addition, her mom had recently conscripted her neighbor and friend, Frieda Zimmerman, to accompany them to a story-time group at the library. Beverly had said it was a good opportunity to get them out of the house so they could interact with other babies; Macy suspected it was also an opportunity for her mother to get out of the house and interact with the parents of other babies—to which, of course, she had absolutely zero objection.
“And there will be cake,” Kate said, adding further incentive for Macy to accept the invitation.
“Who could say no to cake?” Macy wondered.
The other woman grinned. “Great. I’ll see you at the Circle G around two. Best wishes only.”
As Kate made her way out the door, Macy told herself it would be a good experience for the kids—and a chance for her to maybe get some ideas for the triplets’ first birthday, which was now only a few months away. She refused to admit, even to herself, that her boss’s guaranteed presence at the party had been a factor in her decision, even if she was curious to know more about the man who’d hired her to help manage his hotel.
Of course, aside from the curiosity, there was the attraction. And what was wrong with her that she could want a man who’d made it clear that he considered her children a burden rather than a bonus? Obviously the attraction was purely physical. And maybe that wasn’t so surprising, considering the sheltered life she’d led through her pregnancy and the first six months that followed the triplets’ birth. When she’d finally ventured away from home to work the occasional shift at Diggers’, she’d still been preoccupied and sleep-deprived. It was only in the past few weeks, since her babies had started eating cereal and sleeping through the night, that she’d started to feel human again.
&
nbsp; So it was reasonable, she decided, that an increased awareness of the outside world might also allow her to experience sexual awareness, too. Of course, she had no intention of abandoning her self-respect and indulging her hormones, and giving in to her attraction to a man who’d made it clear he had no interest in a relationship with a single mother would be doing exactly that.
But as her gaze shifted to the single red rose on her desk, she acknowledged that her resolve didn’t prevent her body from continuing to yearn whenever he was near.
Chapter Seven
At the end of the day, she took the rose home with her.
Liam had said that it was just a flower—and maybe an apology. She appreciated both.
Not that saying “I’m sorry” changed anything, but it did clear the air between them. And although his harsh words had stung, they’d also opened her eyes—forcing her to accept that the attraction between them wasn’t ever going to develop into anything more.
So she put the flower on the little table beside her bed, then went upstairs to get her babies.
Macy wasn’t surprised to see the cut-crystal vase in the middle of the dining room table filled with a dozen long-stemmed red roses. It was her dad’s traditional Valentine’s Day gift to his wife. He would have grumbled as he placed the order and paid the florist, lamenting—as he always did—that the cost of flowers skyrocketed on the fourteenth of February “every single goddamned year.” But he always ordered them anyway, and his wife’s eyes always got a little misty when she read the card that was simply signed Love, Norm. Because after forty years, those words weren’t just a complimentary closing but a testament to the deep and abiding love they continued to share.
Macy knew she was fortunate to have grown up in a home with two parents who loved one another. Bev and Norm weren’t overtly demonstrative and they occasionally argued, but she’d never had cause to doubt that they were committed to each other, their marriage and their family.
And she’d taken for granted that, when she was ready to get married and have a family, she’d find the right person and fall in love, just as her parents had done. She’d thrown herself into the task of meeting that future husband and father of her children. She’d accepted every invitation to dinner, every set-up arranged by her friends and colleagues, even when she was skeptical. And when none of those dates had led to anything further, she’d tried online dating.
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