She glanced around and saw a radiant pregnant woman holding the hand of a three year old, and a teenager checking out a bookshelf of sci-fi.
“Help yourself to a cookie. I pulled them out of the oven about three minutes ago,” the woman said.
Aimee tasted a nibble. Warm, melty, chocolaty Heaven. She almost groaned aloud with pleasure. “These are amazing.”
“Thanks. My other shop, Carried Away Sweets, is right next door. I make all kinds of pastries, cookies, cakes.”
“Oh! You made the ice cream.”
Carrie looked puzzled.
“My um.. friend gave me some mint chocolate chip ice cream earlier this week and said you made it. It was divine.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I’m going to stop selling it in two weeks. The weather’s turning.”
“I’ll stock up then.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Oh, I’m just browsing,” she answered and took a look around. Displays of t-shirts, trinkets, key chains, were in the front. Aimee looked around, picking up a little silver bell. “Spanner, Montana: Home Is Where The Heart Is” was engraved on the side. She put it down and went to look for toiletries. Mark’s shampoo was not exactly the best stuff she’d ever used. She picked up a basket and filled it with a locally made lilac-scented shampoo, some French-milled honey soap, a razor to shave her legs, moisturizer, hair bands to hold her hair in a ponytail, and some lipgloss. Then she made her way to the postcards.
She picked up one with a sweeping picture of the Bitterroot Mountains and a heard of caribou grazing in the grass. She hoped Bryan had been able to call Kimberly and Kimberly was at least a little comforted, even though she had such little information. A postcard should help, she thought. If nothing else, it was proof of life.
She picked up a Montana-themed pen, and took the items to the counter.
As Carrie began to ring her up, Aimee glanced at the rack of newspapers near the window. A picture of an airplane on the cover of the Bozeman Chronicle startled her. She drifted closer, scanning the article. Nothing about a missing girl.
“Ma’am? That’ll be four dollars even.”
“Oh, sorry, I need a stamp too.” Aimee gave her a hundred from the wad in her pocket. “Sorry, I don’t have anything smaller.”
“No problem,” Carrie replied and counted out her change. “There’s a mail box right outside,” she said, handing her the money and a stamp. Funny, it was the search for a postage stamp that had led her to the money, and now it was the money paying for a postage stamp.
Aimee walked out to the mailbox. She glanced next door to Carried Away Sweets, charmed by the small town ambition, and the woman who had set up shop.
She flipped over the postcard and wrote:
Dear K,
All is well. Be in touch soon.
No need for a signature. Kimberly would know her handwriting. As she reached into the mailbox, she hesitated. If Bryan called her, she would already know that Aimee was okay. Maybe this card would just torment Kimberly.
She spotted a tall, swaggering figure in her peripheral vision and looked up. Mark was walking toward her. She dropped the postcard into the mailbox.
She tried not to stare at his broad shoulders and long legs as he sauntered over to her. As her body had healed, she’d become ever more aware of his rather unmistakable physical presence. Up close, she could see the intensity of his eyes and the smooth, square jaw. Rugged and gorgeous. The force of his masculinity emanated from him in a way that made her a little dizzy. Even the masculine smell of him was almost too much for her starved libido.
“Got what you need?” he asked.
Aimee smiled. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Did you meet Carrie?”
“Yep. She gave me a cookie that was to die for.”
“Chocolate chip?”
“Yep.”
“The secret is cinnamon,” Mark said. “But don’t tell anyone else.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have my ways,” he said with a smile.
Aimee smiled, not doubting that he did indeed have his ways. “She says she’s not selling the ice cream after two weeks.”
“We’ll need to pick some up before we leave town then.”
They began to walk aimlessly down the sidewalk. Across the street, a rhinestone sign that read Flowers Vintage caught her eye. “Do you mind if I stop in?” Aimee asked.
“Sure, let’s go.”
As soon as she opened the door, Aimee was dazed with all the flea market finds, vintage clothes, kitschy bagatelles, costume jewelry and sparkly objects that vied for attention.
“Mark Spanner, what on earth are you doing here?”
Aimee looked up from an authentic 1959 Chanel silk scarf to see a vibrant, slim woman in her fifties walking toward them. She arrived in a cloud of perfume and a flowing tunic over wide-legged pants and hugged Mark. After delivering pink lipsticked kisses to his cheeks, she turned to Aimee.
“This is Lauren, she’s a friend visiting from Boise,” Mark said. “And Lauren, this is Jane Flowers.”
Aimee shook her bejeweled hand, admiring the heavy rings. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, hon. Mark, I thought you would be gone back to D.C. by now.”
“I’m staying late this summer,” he replied evenly.
“How is your mom?”
“Both mom and dad are terrific. They’re still in Hawaii. I think they’ll be coming back for Christmas.”
“Oh I hope so.” The woman looked at Aimee. “I haven’t seen Kathleen Spanner all year. She did send me a nice letter for my birthday in April though.”
Aimee smiled politely.
“She and dad are golfing and goofing off,” Mark said.
Aimee’s attention was diverted to a tray of baubles and she picked up a necklace, admiring the large green and blue stones. She wandered off to a rack of clothing, delighting in the big lacy skirts and satin bodices, velvet blouses and Pucci print dresses. Seth had despised any kind of interesting clothing, accusing Aimee of attempting to attract other men if she wore anything sexier than jeans and a t-shirt.
But she loved vintage clothing. She delighted in the 1950s poodle skirts and the sexy 1970s wrap dresses, the sweetheart necklines of bustiers. She found a black shirt made of lace and a silver shirt with black bead embellishment on the neckline, and carried them over to the shoe selection, where she quickly spotted some granny boots that were – jackpot! – in her size.
She carried her load to the cash register, and then grabbed a black envelope purse and the colorful necklace.
“Big date?” Mark asked behind her as Jane Flowers reached the cash register.
Aimee grinned. “I know its silly. I just really wanted these things.”
“Then you should have them.” He opened his wallet, but Aimee quickly stopped him.
“No, I have some cash. I had it in my pants pocket.”
Mark looked surprised, but watched her pull out a wad of cash.
Jane rang her up, and Aimee handed over the money.
“I love that skirt,” Aimee said as Jane folded it into a shopping bag.
“We get new stuff just about every day,” Jane said. “I have a source in Los Angeles who ships some cool modern stuff too. I think the next shipment is due next Tuesday, if you’d like to stop by.”
“I will do that,” Aimee said, taking the bag.
“Say hi to your mom for me,” Jane called to Mark as they walked to the door.
“I’ll tell her to call you.”
Outside on the sidewalk, Mark took the shopping bag from her and they began to stroll.
She felt happier now, after spending some of Seth’s money. She figured if he ever did find her, she at least wanted to enjoy a bit of the cash first.
“Let’s stop in here. I want to introduce you to a friend.”
Mark opened the door to Glacier Outfitters and Aimee stepped into a large sports store that reminded her of REI.
A very pretty blonde woman looked up from a group of five people and waved to Mark. “Hi hon! Be right with you.”
“Take your time,” Mark replied. To Aimee he said, “That would be Larissa Jenkins. I’ve known her since kindergarten.”
How nice to have such continuity. The only person she had known that long was her sister.
Aimee picked up a pair of sleek black Oakleys from a display. She needed sunglasses; Montana was all blazing sun and wide open spaces. Glancing at the three-digit price tag, she winced but the price wasn’t enough to make her put them back. She wanted what she wanted; something had been loosened inside her, and she was eager to indulge her desires, no matter the price.
She wandered over to the sportswear, finding some yoga pants she liked – the same kind Mark had picked up for her - followed by Capri pants that could be good for all kinds of things. She also picked up a fitted light blue long-sleeve top. It felt nice to shop, to buy whatever she wanted without double-checking to make sure it would meet Seth’s rigorous approval. She tasted the elixir of freedom, and the more she had, the more she wanted. She picked up some Teva sandals, sunblock, some goofy cashmere socks that were the same tangerine and red, but didn’t match.
“Hi hon!”
Aimee turned around to see the blonde lady hugging Mark. When he pulled back, he said, “Larissa, this Lauren. Lauren, this is my friend Larissa.”
“Nice to meet you,” Aimee said.
“Do you need to try those on?” Larissa asked, looking at the heaping pile of sportswear in her arms.
“No, they’ll fit.”
“Well at least let me put it on the counter for you. That way you can load up with another armful.” Larissa winked.
Aimee smiled and handed over the items.
“Where’s John?” Mark asked.
“He’s at the café. I asked him to bring me back something.”
“He left you to handle that crowd of kayakers?”
“Between just us, he was getting on my nerves, so I sent him out.”
Aimee drifted away, letting the friends catch up. She admired at the bicycles, the kayaks, the colorful rock climbing ropes and gear. So much to do. So much to experience in this gorgeous, mysterious world – things she had no hope of experiencing while tied to Seth’s hip in Washington D.C. Suddenly the world that had been so narrow and cramped and stingy loosened its fist, and out came accidental adventures, the possibility of greatness, abundant blessings. All she had to do was grasp them with both hands. Oh yes, her bucket list was going to be a mile long.
She had done it, she realized. She really had smashed through the barriers of her drab little life as Seth’s victim. She was, for better or worse, on The Other Side now.
Looking back at Mark near the sunglasses display, deep in discussion with Larissa, she admired his tall, broad frame. He wore khaki cargo pants and a black t-shirt that covered his biceps but couldn’t disguise the shape bulging under the fabric. All that strength in reserve. So solid, so hard-looking. Coiled, ready to strike. Strange to juxtapose those traits with his sensual gentleness and generosity.
For some reason, she didn’t associate that kind of power with kindness, and his complexity intrigued her.
While under Seth’s control, she’d been unable to even imagine a man like Mark Spanner. That was probably Seth’s intention, she realized. To keep her enclosed in a tiny little box, with not even a shaft of raw sunlight to judge the dismal walls.
Now that she was free, her imagination was in supreme working order. She allowed secret images to fill her mind, the ones she took to her bed and fell asleep with. Ecstatic fantasies of Mark lunging above her, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust inside her, caressing every sweet, melting spot she had.
Her face flushed with warmth, her heart pumping. She was so tempted to do exactly what her wild, carnal imagination conjured.
Why not? Why continue the sad ritual of deprivation?
The temptation to give herself entirely over to a brief affair with this man made her shiver. She wasn’t even sure if he was interested in her. Or maybe she’d been denied so long she’d forgotten how to recognize real sexual attraction.
She would be leaving soon. That was perfect, right? There was no hope of a future.
It was tempting but she didn’t quite know how she felt about no strings attached sex. She would never admit it to Mark or anyone but one thing she knew she wanted in her future was love. She wanted to enjoy a healthy, fun, sexy relationship with someone who made her heart race and her spine tingle. Not right now – she was not ready for that. In the future though, after she’d accomplished some of her goals, after she’d created a self-sustaining life, she would have liked to experience real love.
She suspected that every time she’d submitted to sex with Seth, it devalued the act a little bit. She’s sacrificed something that was supposed to be special to keep the peace in the house. As a result sex had never seemed precious or interesting to her because she’d only had sex with Seth.
Her ardor cooled slightly, and she blinked, realizing she’d been blatantly staring at Mark, pondering sex. She glanced around furtively, relieved that she hadn’t drawn attention to herself.
She carried the new watch and a stack of shirts to the counter, and Mark casually slipped his arm around her waist.
Surprised, she looked up at him and he smiled as if it were nothing.
Larissa went behind the cash register and began to ring up Aimee’s heaping purchases. Aimee paid with the wad of cash, then Mark grabbed the shopping bags.
As they walked out to the dazzling sun, Mark said, “Hungry?”
Carrie’s chocolate chip cookie had definitely gotten her in the mood for food. “I could eat.”
“Do you want to stop by the café or would you rather go back to the ranch?”
“I’d like to see what Spanner has to offer,” she said lightly. “The café.”
They stopped at the SUV to put the bags in the backseat, then strolled on to the One Horse Town Saloon.
The place looked like a barn. Rough-hewn beams and rustic log furnishings gave the bar a big dose of manly cowboy atmosphere. Squinting into the dark from the bright Montana sunshine, Aimee made out a late lunch crowd of mostly rancher types wearing cowboy hats, drinking frosty mugs of beer.
Shania Twain played on the jukebox in the back, where an empty pool table stood. They seemed to have caught the crowd during a quiet lull. At least until Mark Spanner was recognized.
Aimee hung back while the cowboys and ranchers at the bar stood up to shake his hand and pat him on the back, peppering him with questions. Dr. McKinsey asked how she was feeling. “Your spleen okay?”
“Just fine now,” she answered.
He looked like Santa Clause, she thought, all twinkling blue eyes and white hair.
Mark reached through the crowd of people circled around him and took her hand. To a tall, blond man he said, “This is Lauren. She’s visiting from Idaho.”
She politely smiled.
“Lauren, this is my friend John Jenkins, Larissa’s husband.”
They exchanged nice-to-meet-yous. To John, Mark said, “We just saw Larissa at the store.”
“Yeah, she was outfitting some kayakers. They’re going up to Yellowstone, I think. If you open up the resort, we could have sent them over to Starlight Lake.”
“Is that your way of pressuring me?” Mark said with a grin.
“Absolutely. Let me know when you need some help with the cabins. I think the resort will be a boon to Spanner.”
“I’ll let you know,” Mark replied. “Meanwhile, come join us for lunch.”
John begged off, protesting that he had to get back to his wife at the store. “I promised her one of Ed’s chopped beef sandwiches over an hour ago. She’s going to have my head. But come out to the house tonight. We’d love to see you.”
Mark looked to Aimee. She shrugged, a big stupid grin on her face. “Alright,” Mark said. “Sounds
good. What time would you like us there?”
“Seven sound okay?”
“We’ll see you then.”
“Nice to meet you, Lauren.” H3 smacked Mark on the shoulder, and walked away.
Hm. Interesting. Dinner with friends. The thought excited her. Her only friends in D.C. had been her neighbors, Jake and Bryan. Seth had hated them. He was a bigot, but more than that, he disliked the possibility that she might tell them how unhappy she was with Seth. He was right to fear that. She’d poured her heart out over retro cocktails. They knew exactly how horrible things were with Seth.
Mark gently put his hand on her lower back to guide her to a high-backed booth that provided privacy.
As she settled into her seat, she felt a little bit of wonder at the sense of community in this little town. D.C. didn’t have that. Portland did, to some extent. There were pockets that had a small-town feel, where neighbors knew each other. But even Portland didn’t have the kind of closeness ingrained in the community of Spanner.
Aimee studied Mark’s face. Would those generous lips would kiss her softly, or with wild, out-of-control passion?
Not at all, she reminded herself. Get your poor, deprived hormones under control.
“So your family founded this town?” Aimee said in an effort to divert herself from that line of thinking.
“Yep. But that sounds much more impressive than it actually is. My great-great-great grandfather was an oilman. He was the first person to discover oil in the state. He founded Spanner Oil and then branched out to ranching. At one point, he owned more heads of cattle than there were people in the town. But the ranching has pretty much died out. My brother Josh is now CEO of Spanner Oil. My other brother Rex is a tech entrepreneur in California. And my brilliant sister, Maggie, is a lawyer in Boston. How about your family?”
Aimee’s lips compressed to a thin line. “Nothing as impressive as yours,” she began slowly. “My parents live in Salem, Oregon, where I grew up. My dad is a professor of Mechanical Engineering at the university and mom is a veterinarian. I guess that’s where I get my love of animals. My sister Kimberly lives in Portland.”
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