Mason laughed. "It never dawned on them you were with me."
"When your dad found out, he was so mad at you," she said, unable to stop a smile.
"That's when he told me he didn't want us to see each other again," Mason said.
That was around the middle of summer, just under two months before Mason left town. Nothing could have kept them apart after he kissed her at Burl's. And that happened the weekend after he'd taken her to Steamboat for a night of cruising in his convertible and beer-drinking at a pull-off that overlooked the city lights. They had so much fun that night. Talking to Mason was like talking to an extension of herself. She could say anything and feel absolutely sure he understood. Those hours spent at the pull-off had been the turning point in their relationship.
"You got drunk off two beers," Mason said.
She held back a laugh. "That was the first time I ever had any. You were such a bad influence." In more ways than one.
"You were always safe with me."
Until he'd kissed her. That first peck on the lips was only the matchstick. The next time she was with him, the fire ignited. Kind of like now.
Utah pushed back the chair, not at all comfortable with the way she was beginning to feel. "I should get going."
He stood with her. "I'll walk you home."
She put up her hand. "Mason, I don't know what this is all about, but you can't expect me to be here for you when you're just going to leave at the end of summer."
Regret showed in his eyes but he didn't argue. Neither did he offer any explanation, which only increased her worry. Her care for him. Her curiosity. And all of it stemmed from old feelings that he brought back to her. Against her will.
Holding the door open and her arm brushed his mid-section as she passed. Rock-hard abs. Her breath faltered. On the sidewalk, she waved at him, hoping he couldn't tell that her pulse had jumped, then started toward her mother's house. He stayed just outside the coffee shop, a slanted grin on his mouth and a heated look in his eyes, shadowed in the setting sun, watching her go.
After a few steps, she glanced back again. He was still there. But the fondness that had softened him earlier was gone. Darkness had taken its place. Her Mason. The hero of her youth. Object of her fantasies. The man no other compared. Haunted by something he kept secret. Facing forward, Utah had to force herself to keep walking.
CHAPTER THREE
It was harder than she thought. Utah wiped a tear from her cheek as she folded another sweater and put it in the box. Packing her mother's things away felt like losing her all over again. But it was something that had to be done. Her mother would never wear these clothes again. They'd only take up space in the closet. And if she ever wanted to make this her own home, she'd have to cut the cord somewhere. It didn't mean she had to pack everything away.
Enough was enough, however. Turning from the table and the pile of clothes, she moved to the sink and braced her hands there. When the wave of grief grew easier to bear, she found herself staring out the window. An open field gave way to heavy forest that sloped up a steep mountainside. Utah leaned forward and saw the peaks of several mountains in the distance. She would never get tired of that view.
In the yard next door, old Lady Thorpe bent at the waist, picking weeds from her wildflower garden. The woman had always been amazing with flowers and her backyard showed it. Utah had missed that wiry old woman. Welcoming the reprieve from the sad task of going through her mother's things, she pushed off the sink counter and banged through the chipping back door.
She walked across grass that needed cutting and stopped at a fading white picket fence. Ellie straightened with a groan and a hand on her lower back.
"How old are you now? Eighty?" Utah asked. It was the only way to talk to her.
"Old enough to tell you to watch that smart mouth." Ellie moved to the fence, breathing hard and raspy and moving with a gimp. "But it just so happens that today I feel every minute of eighty-two."
Utah laughed. "You're going to live to a hundred and two."
Showing a smile of graying teeth, Ellie pulled one glove off her frail hand and tucked it under her arm. Gripping a pointed peak of one wood fence post, she reached her bare hand to touch Utah's damp cheek. "I wondered how you were holding up."
"I'm going through her clothes today."
"It'll make you feel better wearing something of hers. I wore my Harry's sweatshirts for years. So make sure you don't get rid of everything."
"I won't."
"Maybe you should put that house up for sale and get something new."
Utah looked back at the cottage-style white house and knew she could never do that. "No. That's home to me now."
"You could afford a lot more."
Ellie didn't mean that as an insult. She'd graciously avoided the topic of her second marriage and still hadn't passed judgment. "I like this house. Big houses aren't for me."
"Too much room to get lost in. Yes." Ellie nodded. "It's good to have you home, Utah. I worried about you like you were my own. You've had a rough go of it."
"I always land on my feet."
"That you do, and moving home was probably the best thing you did for yourself. You belong here. Things are going to get better for you now, you wait and see."
She sure hoped Ellie was right.
"You seen Andy's boy yet?"
"He was at the funeral."
"Oh. That's right." Ellie shook her head with a wave of her hand. "Memory's not what it used to be."
"It's all that scotch you drink." Utah smiled along with her teasing.
"What's to remind you you're still alive if you can't have a little fun every once in a while?"
"Every day isn't once in a while, Ellie."
"I'm eighty-two. You think it matters?"
Utah breathed a laugh. "No."
Ellie's eyes roved Utah's face and finally narrowed in scrutiny. "All right. I've waited long enough. Did you sleep with that man like Megan says?"
Any levity vanished with the question. "No. He was my friend." The closest one she'd ever had. But very few could understand that. All they saw was a young woman gold-digging on an old man. "I didn't go looking for him. He just appeared." Like an angel. She looked away. She missed their long talks, mostly him giving her guidance and support. She was a burden of trouble, and he was a lonely old man who cared. He knew everything about her, and still, he cared.
"How did you meet him?"
"At Cherry Blossom Golf Course." She felt a soft smile push at her lips. "I went golfing with him. He liked the company and I needed someone to lean on then."
"They let you golf while you worked?"
"He came at the end of my morning shifts."
"So he took to you, then?"
"Not the way everyone thinks. We talked. And pretty soon he found a way to make me talk about all my problems. He helped me get over Beau and all the money I lost. And...Dad."
"He was just a nice man."
"Yes." No one wanted to believe it could be anything so innocent. She'd made national news when he died. She hadn't been a porn star and she didn't have a criminal record, but she was down on her luck and that was enough to taint her as taking advantage of an old man. "We both needed someone to care and we did for each other. Greatly. He missed his wife terribly and even though he never said it, he regretted never having children of his own." She found Ellie's watchful gaze. "His stepson is an ungrateful, selfish bastard. All he wanted was money. He didn't care about Arthur Brentwood. He lied to the press about forcing Arthur to sign a new will. Arthur did that on his own. I didn't know he did it until his lawyer contacted me after his death."
"Your mother said as much," Ellie said. "I confess, I was hesitant to believe her. But seeing your face now as you tell it, I can see I was wrong. I'm sorry, Utah. The talk around here's finally gotten to me I guess."
How could she not forgive the old woman? "It's all right."
Ellie smiled a little. Then the smile faded as though a thought cam
e to her. "Are you safe? Is the stepson leaving you alone?"
"He wouldn't if I were still in Denver. He doesn't have my number and I didn't tell very many people where I was going." Arthur's stepson didn't know about Timberline. Calvin Roderick couldn't dispute the will, but as long as he remained bitter, he wouldn't stop harassing her. If enough time went by, maybe he'd calm down. She hoped. "He'll get over the will. He just needs time. Calvin is a jerk but I don't think he'll turn violent."
Ellie looked skeptical. "Money can be a pretty good motivator."
Utah looked away, staring at the mountains and rubbing her suddenly chilled arm. Calvin's threats had gotten progressively worse before she'd come here. If he found her, Utah wasn't sure what he'd do.
###
Utah waved goodbye to her new golf course architect as he headed up the street for his parked car. Today was just the introductory meeting. Forrest Edwards showed her what he had to offer and she liked it. He'd build her a fabulous course. She'd met him at Nell's Deli, where nearly everyone inside had whispered to one another, complete with speculative looks. Were they applauding her decision to build a golf course, or were they casting opinions on the unscrupulousness of spending her sugar daddy's money?
Utah marched up the street, a stream of swear words trailing through her head. Why did she even care? Hadn't she stopped caring what people thought a long time ago?
If it hadn't been for Arthur, things would be a lot worse for her right now. Not only had he been a friend when she needed one most, he'd spared her from serious financial hardship. She'd thought about giving most of the money to his stepson and just keeping what she needed to get back on her feet, but the man had been so impossibly mean that she'd changed her mind and left him with the bare minimum Arthur had left him in the will.
Reaching Mountain Hardware, Utah stopped when she saw smoke. Harvey stood before a portable fire pit, burning what she had to assume was the eagle. She managed to stop a full-out laugh.
"What are you doing, Harvey?"
He scowled at her. "Going to start another one."
"Another eagle?"
His scowl deepened unappreciatively. "No."
"What are you going to try next?"
"A bear." He sounded defensive.
"Well, the eagle was good practice. You keep that up and you'll win the contest."
He grunted, clearly not believing she meant it. She didn't.
Before she said something insulting, she waved awkwardly and started up the sidewalk again. When she reached the dress shop where Roanne asked to meet, she went inside. Roanne stood near a dressing room, holding up a bridesmaid dress. It was lavender and made of linen, not that gaudy shiny stuff that reflected light like a mirror.
"I like it," she said, bringing Roanne's head up.
Roanne smiled. "Hey. I heard you had lunch with your next old man."
Utah glanced back at the door. She'd just left the restaurant not ten minutes ago.
"Karla called."
Karla was the waitress who'd served her and Forrest Edwards. Utah rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me."
"She wanted to know if I knew anything."
"Pathetic."
"I told her you were meeting him later for a quickie."
Utah gaped at her. Had she really-
"I'm kidding."
"Thanks."
"I told her there was more to your relationship with Arthur than anyone thinks. She didn't buy it. She said young women don't marry old men because they love them or want to have sex with them. They marry them only for money."
"I never slept with Arthur."
"Not everyone falls for Megan and her big mouth. You really like this?" She looked down at the dress.
Utah nodded. "I do."
"Good. This is what you're wearing for my wedding."
That was so Roanne. With a one-sided grin, she snatched the dress and went into a dressing room to try it on.
"Are you coming to Moosehead Tavern tonight?" asked from the other side of the door.
"Am I supposed to?" She straightened the dress and looked at her reflection. "This looks good."
"It's Andy's birthday. He's sixty, can you believe that?"
Utah came out of the dressing room. Could she hope Andy's son wouldn't show up for his dad's birthday party? She'd put off Andy's dinner invitation because Mason would be there.
"Mason planned it. Didn't you get an invitation?"
"I might have. I haven't gone through the mail in a few days."
Roanne finished studying Utah. "That does look good. Okay, let's get it."
Utah returned to the dressing room. Seeing Mason twice in one week was going to be torture. But she couldn't miss Andy's birthday party.
###
Utah wore denim gauchos, brown cowboy boots, and a brown cotton T-shirt that V'd in the front. She pulled open the door of Moosehead Tavern and the sound of laughter and country music greeted her. Sheldon from Screws Garage sat with Bennett and Bradley, the banker and the man who ran the gas station. They laughed about something. Cindy from Cindy's Scissor Parlor sat close to the hardware store owner's son. The middle-grade teacher sat alone, but the principal was walking toward her with two drinks. And in the center of it all...Megan, surrounded by her hens, leaning close to the local dentist, looking right at Utah as her mouth moved like a buzzing weed eater.
Utah suppressed the need to roll her eyes and turned toward the bar, where Roanne sat there, watching Charlie serve a drink to a woman at the other end. She headed there. On her way she spotted Andy laughing with a group of men. Behind him, leaning against the wall with one booted foot propped on the leg of a stool beside him, was Mason. Ramsey, the deputy sheriff stood next to him. Mason wore a black cowboy hat that shaded his eyes. Feeling him watch her, she turned away and slid onto a bar stool next to Roanne.
"Is it just me or is Charlie flirting with Gwen?" Roanne asked.
At the end of the bar, Charlie smiled at Gwen, who ran one of the local Bed and Breakfasts. Her shoulder length dark hair was brushed and sprayed and her smile took up her whole face. Charlie had already delivered the drink, but now appeared to be chatting warmly with her.
"He's a bartender. He has to be nice to everybody."
"Yeah, but...."
As if on cue, Gwen laughed at something Charlie said and touched his forearm.
Utah slid her gaze to Roanne, who looked shocked and said, "He's flirting with her."
"It's nothing."
"She's coming on to him and he likes it." Roanne looked crestfallen.
"He's marrying you, Roanne."
"Yeah, but...maybe he's having second thoughts."
"Have you given him any reason to have second thoughts?"
Roanne looked indignant.
"I don't mean it like that." She knew Roanne hadn't given Charlie any reason to want out of their marriage plans, which was why she thought Roanne was over-reacting. "I was being sarcastic."
Relaxing her defenses, Roanne turned back to the show at the end of the bar. "You say the damnedest things sometimes."
"Charlie loves you."
"I forgive you." Roanne paused, tilting her head as though another angle would help her see her fiancé clearer. "He seems different now. We used to talk about anything and everything. Now...now he's quiet a lot. Stiff. Like he's tense about something."
"Maybe you should talk to him."
"I don't want to make a big deal over nothing. We're both just nervous, that's all. Getting married is a huge change."
"Yeah, but you don't want to marry a man who's already looking at other women."
Roanne turned wide eyes toward her. "You think he'll always look for other women?"
This wasn't the direction she wanted to go. "I just think you should talk about it."
Someone put a beer down beside her and sat on a stool. She knew before looking it was Mason. Scary, that she could already identify him by the way he smelled.
"Two pretty women sitting at the
bar is just too much to resist," he said.
Utah gave him a smirk at the bad line. He just grinned and sipped his beer.
"Roanne is engaged."
"You're not."
She hmphed. "Why are you here, anyway?"
"My dad's birthday party?"
"I meant here. In Timberline. For the whole summer. Aren't you going to get restless in a week or two?"
One side of his mouth hitched up, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. Like the last time she'd asked, he didn't seem to welcome her curiosity.
"Look at him." Roanne said from beside her.
She glanced first at her friend, then at Charlie. Now he leaned on his elbows, smiling at Gwen, who smiled back with mirroring warmth. Not good.
"Hey Charlie," Mason yelled. "You already have one fiancé. You trying to line up another one?"
Charlie's smile wiped clear and he straightened, looking at Mason then down the line until he saw Roanne. He didn't seem happy as he made his way down the bar.
"What's the matter?" he asked, sounding annoyed.
"Nothing." But Roanne was obviously anything but fine.
"I was just talking to her."
Utah raised her brow in disbelief.
"You looked pretty cozy."
"Jeez, Roanne, how many beers have you had?"
"None. You know I don't drink."
He sighed and put a beer down for a man who came to the bar and took the cash he handed him. Then he moved in front of Roanne.
"I'm working."
"Working Gwen, yeah. I can see that."
"I am not. We were just talking."
"You're flirting with her."
Charlie scowled at her. His annoyance was obvious. "Why are you so insecure all of a sudden?"
"I'm not insecure. I know when a man is interested in another woman."
"I'm so sick of you nagging me."
Roanne's face grew progressively more pale and the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. "I don't nag. I've never nagged you. Not until now. And you deserve it. You're flirting with Gwen. Admit it."
"God, Roanne, would you just drop it? I have to work."
Her eyes began to shine with tears. "You never talk to me like that. You like it when I sit here while you work...at least...you used to."
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