by Glynna Kaye
His brow wrinkled. “No, no, timing is fine. That is if you don’t mind waiting for Chloe and Anna to get dressed. We had...there were...unexpected delays this morning.”
“If you’re sure.”
“It’s fine. Could I get you coffee or something? We’re hosting breakfast when we get back from our ride, but I could fix toast or cereal if you’re hungry.”
“I don’t want to ruin my appetite. I’ve heard Hunter’s Hideaway puts on quite a spread.”
“That we do.”
Chloe reached for Delaney’s hand with both of hers. “Isn’t Delaney beautiful, Daddy?”
A smile reluctantly surfaced at Chloe’s broken-record assessment, but he didn’t look at Delaney. “Yes, honey, like a princess. Now run on back to your room and get dressed and we’ll see what we can do about that hair of yours.”
Chloe reached up to hug Delaney, then took off.
He gave her a halfhearted smile. “Sorry we’re not ready.”
“No problem.” She drew her gaze away from his to look around the cabin. Golden-toned log walls, raftered ceiling, a big iron woodstove. No feminine touches, though—had this not been the home he’d shared with his wife? Garrett hadn’t divulged details and she hadn’t wanted to pry, but likely not.
Nevertheless, the room held appeal with a patterned rug on the wooden floor and a poster-size photograph of the San Francisco Peaks near Flagstaff gracing one of the walls. “I like this. It feels so rustic.”
He roughed up the hair on the back of his head. “That’s putting it nicely.”
“I’m serious. I love the simplicity. Log cabins have such charm.”
“Hunter’s Hideaway has its fair share of them nestled back here in the pines. They’ve been a long-time staple of the property, first for sportsmen, then later also for guests wanting to explore off-the-beaten path mountain country on horseback or foot.”
“I hate to admit it, but although I lived in Canyon Springs for quite a few years and heard of Hunter Ridge, I’d never been here before. And yet Hunter’s Hideaway looks like quite a complex—a general store, an inn, horseback riding. It’s kind of hidden away in the forest, a few steps outside the heart of town.”
“That’s what gave it its name.” He moved to a window and pulled open the drapes to admit the morning sun. “We try to stay low-key and don’t do a whole lot of promotion. Hunter Ridge has always been about word-of-mouth, not media hype. We aren’t big on turning the place into Disneyland. There are way too many folks who don’t take the backcountry seriously. They come up here and get themselves in a whole lot of trouble.”
“I’ve seen that in the news many times. Search-and-rescue teams are kept hopping, sometimes without a happy ending.”
He motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen where he poured himself a mug of coffee. “Sure you don’t want some?”
“No, thank you.” She studied the log-walled room, the polished wooden trestle table, tiled floor, the cast-iron and copper cooking utensils hanging above the butcher-block island. She’d love to cook in a cute kitchen like this. “Getting back to your comment about not wanting Hunter Ridge to be Disneyland. Is that one of the reasons people around here don’t care for the influx of artists? I’ve heard that they hope to increase promotion, bring more visitors in to expand their market.”
“Sunshine tell you that?” He took another sip of coffee.
“What? That people around here don’t care for artists or that local artists hope to lure in more outsiders? Actually, she mentioned both.”
“Figures. They probably want to turn this into another Sedona with wall-to-wall shoppers, but at least winter at a few thousand feet higher than that community should prevent that from happening to any great degree. At least for half of the year anyway.”
She moved around the room, studying framed photos on the wall, acutely conscious of Luke’s gaze following her. There was Travis as a youngster holding up a fish he’d caught. Anna on a pony, looking determined to stay on. Chloe cuddling a kitten.
Was that a photo of Luke and his wife with their kids on the far wall? But she didn’t cross the room to check it out.
She turned back to Luke. “I’m sorry to have barged in on you so early this morning. I should have asked to speak to you when Anna called last night. You know, to make sure her invitation was okay with you. I feel as though I walked into the middle of something.”
He offered a self-conscious smile. “Don’t worry about it. Kids are kids.”
And no doubt dads were dads. Something had disturbed him in a major way if she wasn’t misreading the somewhat bleak look in his eyes.
As the silence stretched, she searched for a topic of conversation. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
“It is.”
“Thanks for arranging this outing for the kids. And for making those phone calls.” He’d had a long talk with Anna and Travis, too, about the possibility of Drake joining them to work on the house, explaining how he or Delaney would be there if Drake’s behavior became inappropriate. They didn’t like it, but agreed that the boy should be given another chance. Now if she could only get Luke on that same wavelength regarding Benton.
He set his mug on the island. “You’re still good with it? Didn’t just give in?”
They’d discussed it at great length last weekend, Luke having decided that since no kids showed up, he’d hang around all morning to get the layers of linoleum flooring ripped out in the kitchen. He’d returned a few times throughout the week to continue on the bathrooms and entry while she painted the kitchen cabinets.
Occasionally he brought Chloe who played quietly on the porch with her plastic horses, and Anna and Travis popped in once to drop off pizza for their lunch. Working in different areas of the house while the exterior painters labored on, they weren’t tripping over each other, but saw each other enough to keep up a running conversation. Nothing too personal, but comfortable enough that it left Delaney smiling to herself when she shut off the lights each night.
“Like I said earlier, I’d prefer that kids—and adults—not always be motivated by ‘what’s in it for me.’ But maybe this will be a fresh start for all of us—heading over to the project after breakfast with an added emphasis on being a cheerful giver.”
His eyes warmed. “From what I’ve seen, you’re always a cheerful giver, aren’t you, Delaney?”
Was he making fun of her? “I try to be. God says it’s more blessed to give than to receive.”
“He does at that.”
Luke glanced toward the kitchen door just as Anna and Chloe appeared, both in jeans, T-shirts, Western boots and windbreakers, their hair pulled back into ponytails.
“I’m sorry we weren’t ready when you got here.” Anna didn’t acknowledge or so much as look at her father, signaling again to Delaney that her arrival had interrupted something.
Chloe stretched out one hand to snare Delaney’s—and one to her dad. “You’re coming, too, aren’t you, Daddy?”
“I think he has other things to do,” Anna said quickly, heading back into the living room.
The sadness in Luke’s eyes tore at Delaney’s heart.
“Come with us, Luke,” she encouraged. “The girls want to show me around and you’ll know the history behind everything.”
His grateful gaze met hers, but even with Chloe tugging at his hand, he looked undecided.
“The youth group is due to start arriving in forty-five minutes,” she coaxed, “so it won’t take long.”
“I don’t think Anna wants me tagging along.”
“She’ll get over it.” Smiling down at Chloe, she gave the small hand a squeeze, then looked up with an impish gaze at the girl’s handsome daddy. “Come on, Luke, don’t be an old fuddy-duddy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Fuddy-du
ddy. Holding the door open to the Inn at Hunter’s Hideaway for Delaney, Anna and Chloe to enter, Luke could laugh at that now. Sort of. Mostly because the look in Delaney’s sparkling eyes belied her taunting words.
The kids said she liked him. He’d known that from day one when she’d dazzled him with that flirty smile of hers. And he had to admit he’d enjoyed working alongside her at the project house this past week. He felt so guilty about running the kids off a few Saturdays ago, that helping out was the least he could do to make up for it. But what he found disturbing was that his children concluded he liked her as well. Travis had even hinted that moving to Kansas would be tantamount to turning his back on her.
That was crazy. How had it gotten by him that the kids were reading more into his helping with the youth project than he’d been aware? He’d worked on it other years, hadn’t he?
“Grandma! Grandma!” Grasping Delaney’s hand to drag her forward, Chloe charged toward his mother, Elaine Hunter, who looked up from something she was working on at the reception desk. “This is Delaney, Grandma!”
His mother glanced at him curiously, then came around the desk for introductions. Mom looked great this morning in jeans, a blue plaid shirt, and a tan leather vest, her sandy brown, side-parted hair grazing her shoulders. Trim and vibrant, nobody would ever guess that she’d just turned sixty.
“I’m Elaine. Known as Mom to this one—” She nodded to Luke, then motioned to his daughters. “And Grandma to these two. Anna told me last night that she planned to give you the grand tour this morning.”
Mom had no doubt heard more about Delaney than she cared to. The girls had been talking about her at Sunday dinner with his folks for weeks. How pretty she was. How nice. How cool her hair and clothes were. He’d kept out of it, doing his best to avoid Rio’s smirking smile and dodge Grady’s booted foot kicking him under the table.
“This place is amazing.” Delaney’s eyes sparkled with characteristic enthusiasm. “Your husband pointed out the buildings and trails on that humongous wall map. Over two hundred wooded acres bumped up against endless national forest property? Grady let me peek in one of the unoccupied cabins, too. And Rio and J.C. showed me around the stable and corrals. Thirty horses? Wow.”
“She thinks the surrey is romantic.” Anna, now standing behind Delaney, gave him a sidelong, accusatory look. He’d better have a talk with the kids about the status of his relationship with the pretty blonde sooner rather than later.
“So this is Delaney,” a familiar voice said warmly from the top of the stairs. All eyes turned to see Grandma Jo gracefully descending. Leave it to her to make a grand entrance. When she reached the bottom, she came forward to shake Delaney’s outstretched hand. “My great-granddaughters have told me a lot about you. Welcome to the Hideaway.”
“Grandma Jo—Josephine—is my dad’s mother,” Luke provided. Even with his two other “middle” sisters absent, it must be confusing for Delaney having an army of Hunters coming out of the woodwork to greet her as if she were some kind of celebrity. Which made him wonder that else the kids had been saying about Delaney. And him.
“It’s good to meet you, too.” Delaney then nodded in the direction of his mother. “I was just telling Elaine how impressed I am with this entire operation. I’ll definitely be back to check out the general store treasures when I have time to linger.”
“You’ll like the homemade chocolate chip cookies best,” Chloe chimed in, then quietly sidled over to lean against him. Smiling down at her, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. His baby.
“There’s much to see here,” Grandma Jo agreed, “much more than a whirlwind tour can do justice, so feel welcome to come back as often as you’d like. We’re always happy to see new faces, especially one as pretty as yours.”
Color rose in Delaney’s cheeks as she murmured a thank-you. Grandma had always been a hospitable sort, but wasn’t she laying it on a bit thick?
“It’s my understanding,” Grandma continued, “that you’re here for the summer to work with the church youth group and supervise their project. How is that coming along?”
Delaney glanced briefly at Luke. “We’re mostly finished with the outdoor work, so when the monsoons come in, we’ll be okay there. Today, after breakfast, we’ll begin stripping wallpaper and doing general cleanup in preparation for the next phase.”
“A worthwhile endeavor. No family should have to live apart as they’ve had to this past year.”
Looking up at him, Chloe’s eyes suddenly pooled with tears as the impact of her great-grandma’s words jolted her memory.
“Grandma Jo—” Her lower lip quivered as she appealed to the family matriarch, and a knot tightened in Luke’s stomach when curious eyes turned to his youngest. “This morning Daddy told us—”
With a laugh, he gently slipped his hand over her mouth. “Let’s save that for later, okay, sweetheart?”
Surprised, she looked up at him, tears stopped in their tracks. He lifted her into his arms where she looped her legs around his waist, then he turned to the still-open door behind them. “Looks like the kids are arriving. What do you say we go see if Rio has your pony saddled up?”
Eyes brightening, she nodded, the move to Kansas forgotten. He gave her a hug, grateful that she’d allowed him to divert her attention. Although acutely aware of the questioning stares—and Anna’s glare—now was not the time or place to announce his plans to the rest of his family.
Anna brushed by him and headed out the door to greet her friends.
He caught Delaney’s eye. “Ready to go?”
Curiosity lit her eyes, too, but she nodded, said goodbye to his mother and grandmother, then followed him outside. He pulled the door shut and they moved away from the inn.
Close call. But no doubt he’d be grilled at the first opportunity.
Nevertheless, with a relieved grin, he gave Chloe another grateful hug and set her on the ground. Legs pumping and ponytail flying, she dashed off in search of Rio. Man, how he loved that kid. He glanced at Delaney only to discover she was openly studying him. His smile faltered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Yeah, right. “You ready to ride, then?”
For a moment, he thought she was going to ask him point-blank what Chloe had been about to blurt out. But instead, she flashed a smile that always made him weak in the knees.
“I haven’t been on a horse since I was a teenager, but there’s no way I’d let the youth group go on this adventure without me.”
“So let’s go.” He stretched out his hand to her. Then, as her gaze flickered in question to his, he self-consciously let it drop to his side. She wasn’t one of his kids that he needed to hang on to, keep close, safe. But although he’d once taken her hand to help her up from the kitchen floor, what would it feel like snuggled in his with their fingers entwined?
Don’t go there.
All the talk earlier that morning of her liking him and him liking her and what’s the big secret had befuddled his brain. But it didn’t change a thing. Not one thing.
* * *
“How’s it going?” Travis reined his chestnut mare back to where Delaney brought up the caboose end of the fifteen trail riders. For the past three-quarters of an hour, the horses and riders had eased into a comfortable distance from each other along a well-worn path under overarching pines. Leather creaking. Bits jangling. Sunlight dappled down on the coolish morning, making her thankful for her light jacket.
She reined her dapple gray, Chiffon, to the side to make more room for Travis and his mount. “I haven’t ridden for a long time.”
“No foolin’? I’d never have guessed.”
She lowered her brows in mock reprimand. “Lying is a sin as much as stealing.”
Travis grinned. Then sobering, he lowered his voice. “I, uh, owe you an apology,
Delaney.”
She tilted her head in question as he shifted in the saddle. Adjusted his reins.
“You know,” he continued, “for the way I acted that first night we met at your place. For a few other times, too. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be the brunt of my bad attitude.”
Had Luke talked to him? Or had he initiated this on his own?
“I imagine you were disappointed that the college intern couldn’t come for the summer.”
“Not so much. It’s more that—” He leaned forward to pat his horse on the neck, then straightened in the saddle to look off into the forest. Shrugged. “Never mind.”
“It’s that your dad was there, isn’t it?”
His gaze met hers in surprise—and confirmation.
“Always. Ever since Mom—” He cut himself short and again looked away, ramrod-straight and eyes fixed on his father farther up the trail.
They rode in silence for several minutes, a raven crying out above them, hooves sounding hollowly on the dirt path, bits of conversation drifting back from the others. But she could almost tangibly feel the heartache emanating from the young man riding next to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her words coming quietly, “about the loss of your mother, Travis.”
She always hesitated, when someone shared such a loss, to chime in about her own, not wanting to diminish the other person’s grief or draw attention to herself.
He turned an uncertain gaze on her. “You know that she—”
At her nod, relief flickered through his eyes. He’d have been about eleven years old when his mother had taken her life. What did that do to a boy just on the brink of adolescence? A first child who would have had more time to bond with his mother than had his younger siblings. Garrett said Luke didn’t like talking about the loss and didn’t like others talking about it. Did that extend to his kids, as well?
“Don’t get me wrong.” Travis shifted in the saddle again. “It was cool when I was a kid to have Dad so involved in everything I did. You know, school events. Church camp. Boy Scouts. But it’s getting...old.”