He frowned as he approached the well-maintained condo. If he accepted this project with Celeste, would she bang on his door at all hours of the night, telling him how to do his job?
Surely she wouldn’t.
Would she?
Not unless she found another bear in her garage.
He’d never forget the sight of her standing on his front porch, her long blond hair piled precariously on top of her head, eyes big as saucers...right before she passed out.
Not quite the tough facade he’d seen this afternoon. When he carried her inside, she’d looked so...small. Fragile. And smelled of vanilla.
Chucking the annoying thought, he lifted the lid on the remote keypad and punched in the numbers Celeste had given him. He should be at home, making sure Emma and Cassidy were in bed. Not catering to some city girl. He’d done enough of that with Tracy.
Light spilled from the garage as the door began its ascent. Gage stepped inside the front door, only to discover the window was frosted.
He peered down the narrow hall, then up the stairwell. Only one way to get the view he needed.
He climbed the first set of steps and paused at the landing to check the view out of the small rectangular window. Perfect. But what was that loud whistling noise?
With no sign of the bear, he took the second set of stairs two at a time. The beautifully decorated living room stopped him in his tracks, though. Looking at the brown leather furniture with its perfectly placed throw pillows, he felt as though he were invading Celeste’s privacy. Like he shouldn’t be here.
Probably because he shouldn’t. He should be with his daughters. Not leaving them alone with a stranger. And for all practical purposes, Celeste was a stranger. Aside from the fact that she was a good cook, bossy and had an appreciation for historic architecture, what did he really know about her?
Training his ear on that incessant whistling, he whisked past the pristine dining area and rounded into the kitchen. On the stove, steam spewed from the spout of a kettle. He quickly turned it off and moved the kettle to another burner before marching back down to the window without so much as another glance at Celeste’s inner sanctum.
He resumed his post just as the bear wandered into the driveway. It was a young one. Not a cub, by any means, but not an adult either. With the whistling silenced, Gage could hear the animal’s unhappy grunts, as well as a few of his own.
The bear continued down the street, but Gage watched until it was out of sight before returning to the first level. He hurried past the bathroom and bedroom that were off the foyer then entered the garage via the interior door.
Oh, man. He admired the black ragtop Mustang parked inside. “Talk about a sweet ride.” He slowly circled the vehicle, looking for signs of damage. A couple of scratches on the rear bumper but, lucky for Celeste, the canvas was untouched.
Scanning the rest of the single-car space, he shook his head. That bear must have had a good ol’ time. And based on what little he saw of Celeste’s immaculate house, she was not going to like this. What a mess.
As he suspected, the back door was open. He closed it and twisted the dead bolt, making sure it was secure, then grabbed a lawn and leaf bag from the box on the shelf and started collecting the trash that had been scattered.
Why are you doing this?
He thought about the look on Celeste’s face when he explained how to get rid of the bear. Not to mention the way she backed him up when he told the girls to go to bed. Actually, he was kind of surprised she did that. It had been a long time since somebody had his back.
After gathering the trash, he tied the bag and tossed it in the receptacle, making sure to secure the lid. Then he turned out the light and used the keypad to close the garage door before returning to his house.
All was quiet when he stepped inside, so he continued down the hall to check on the girls. Amidst the warm glow of their pink butterfly lamp, he could see that both were asleep. And so was Celeste.
She was leaning against Emma’s white headboard, head drooped to one side, with a book in her lap. One hand lay atop Emma’s back as the child snuggled beside her.
Something shifted inside him. He longed for his girls to have a mother’s nurturing. Someone who did those little things that said, “I love you.” Things like reading books, painting their nails and doing their hair. Someone who understood tea parties and Barbie dolls. Someone who was a helpmate to him.
Looking away, he ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t cut out for marriage, though. Even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t be with someone like Celeste. She was too much like his ex. Confident, independent, driven...All things that had drawn him to Tracy.
Unfortunately, Tracy had had no interest in motherhood.
Time to get Celeste out of here. He never should have left her with Emma and Cassidy in the first place.
Making his way between the two twin beds, he laid a hand on Celeste’s arm.
She didn’t move.
He leaned over until his mouth was inches from her ear. “Celeste?” He caught a whiff of vanilla.
A strand of her hair tickled his cheek, causing him to jump.
Celeste did, too. “What are you doing?” Though her words were whispered, they were undeniably sharp.
“Trying to wake you up.” He stormed out of the room and busied himself by straightening the living room until Celeste appeared.
“You’ve got a couple of great kids there.” She crossed her arms. “Not one argument. They settled right in and were asleep before I even finished the story.”
“I’m glad they didn’t give you any trouble.” He set the girls’ backpacks beside the front door. “You’ll be happy to know that your house is bear-free.”
“Thank you. You saved my life tonight.”
“I doubt that.” He darted into the kitchen to dump a handful of string cheese wrappers. “He was just a little guy.”
“Little? Not when he was standing on his hind legs, looking me straight in the eye.”
He rejoined her. “If he would have been full grown, he’d have been looking down at you.” Much like he was right now. When did she get so short?
“I guess I’d better go.” She moved to the door. “I really do appreciate you helping me out, though.”
He nodded, holding the door open. “Doesn’t look like I’ll have that quote by tomorrow.”
“I understand.” She stepped onto the porch and stared across the street. Judging by the way her fingers dug into her arms, she was scared.
He knew he should walk her home. Set her at ease.
But he couldn’t. Not while his heart was longing for things that would never be.
He peered up at the darkened sky. “I’ll keep watch. Make sure you get home safely.”
Her smile lacked its usual confidence. “Okay.” She started down the stairs. “Thanks again, Gage. I owe you.”
She moved quickly across the street and up her front walk. At the door, she paused and waved before disappearing inside.
He felt like a jerk.
No, he felt like a fool for entertaining such crazy thoughts.
He went back into his house and dropped onto the sofa. He must be tired. But there was no way he’d be able to sleep. He needed to focus on something else.
Standing, he moved to the dining table and opened his laptop. May as well work on a quote. With nothing else in the pipeline, he’d need the work. And, if God didn’t want him to have the job, Celeste would turn him down anyway.
But what if He does want you to have this job?
Gage sighed. Then he’d just have to get through it as quickly as possible.
Chapter Four
Gage dropped the girls off at school without a minute to spare. After staying up late to work on Celeste’s quote, sleep held him
captive with unwanted yet all-too-appealing visions of Celeste with his daughters.
Two cups of coffee and a quick shower later, he was still dragging. He could only hope the breakfast rush went long at Granny’s Kitchen. The busier Celeste was, the quicker the process would be. He’d simply drop off the estimate and she could get back to him later. Because after seeing her in his dreams, the last thing he wanted was to spend time in her presence this morning.
A half a dozen cars parked near the corner restaurant encouraged him. He snagged a spot, turned off the ignition and hopped out of his truck.
Despite a clear blue sky overhead, Main Street lay bathed in shadows, waiting for the sun to top the gray, volcanic peaks of the Amphitheater, the curved formation at the town’s eastern edge. Frost dappled windshields and rooftops, while the brisk morning air jolted his sleep-deprived senses. A reminder that winter wasn’t too far around the corner.
Inside the restaurant, smiling faces and the aromas of bacon, fresh-brewed coffee and cinnamon transported him to another time. Back when life was simpler and dreams were bigger. When the future was his for the taking. Before reality dealt a heartbreaking blow that would forever change him.
Celeste emerged from the kitchen, carrying three plates. One with eggs, bacon and hash browns, another with what appeared to be breakfast burritos, and the last held a cinnamon roll that looked exactly like the ones her grandmother used to make.
Spotting him, she did a double take. “Be with you in a second.”
His insides tensed. While his head told him to drop the file on the counter and run, his stomach begged him to pull up a chair and enjoy a hearty breakfast. Maybe food would help take his mind off last night. If nothing else, it would silence the rumbling in his gut.
He slid onto a bar stool as Celeste moved behind the oak-topped counter.
She paused long enough to grab a coffeepot and a white mug. “You look as though you could use this.” She set the cup in front of him and poured.
“That bad, huh?”
She puffed out a gentle laugh. “That bear—or at least thoughts of him—kept me awake half the night, too.”
Bear? He palmed the cup, the warmth seeping into his fingers. He should be so lucky.
“Cream or sugar?”
“No, thanks.” He took a sip, trying not to make eye contact. Celeste’s long blond hair was pulled back yet again, her attire more business than casual, and she’d grown at least two inches since last night.
“Excuse me for a minute.” She replaced the coffeepot on the warmer before continuing into the kitchen.
Gage couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the overbearing, dictatorial Celeste he met with yesterday afternoon. The one who had been a burr under his saddle. That Celeste he could deal with. The sweet, nurturing Celeste who showed up uninvited in his dreams? Not so much.
A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a foil pan encased in a plastic bag. She set it beside him. “My way of saying thank you for your help last night.”
The sight of six homemade cinnamon rolls covered in rich, gooey icing wiped every thought from his brain as his stomach broke into a Snoopy dance. “Where’s a fork?”
“Not so fast. Those are for later.”
“What?”
“Order up.”
Celeste reached toward the stainless steel pass-through to the kitchen and retrieved a plate. “This one is for now.” Frosting dripped from the steaming, oversize confection she placed in front of him. She handed him a fork and a short stack of napkins. “That is, unless you’ve already had breakfast.”
“I haven’t.” Filled with more anticipation than a grown man ought to have, he grabbed the fork. “And even if I had...” The warm pastry melted in his mouth while an explosion of cinnamon and creamy sweetness chased his cares away. “This is even better than I remembered.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He positioned his fork on the edge of the plate and picked up the file. “I finished your quote.”
Her brown eyes went wide. “Are you kidding?” She accepted the folder. “How did you manage that?”
No way was he going to let on how the sight of her with Cassidy and Emma had affected him. “Guess that bear riled us both.”
“Order up.”
“Drat!” Celeste tucked the file folder on the opposite work counter, alongside rows of ketchup, mustard and hot sauce bottles. “Duty calls.” She retrieved two more plates from the pass-through and was on her way.
Gage savored the first decent cinnamon roll he’d had in twenty years, washing down his last bite with a swig of coffee. Mission accomplished. The quote had been delivered and even though he’d been here longer than planned, the cinnamon roll more than made up for it. Now all he had to do was finish up some last-minute details at the Schmidts’ and he’d have the rest of the day to himself.
Standing, he reached for the care package Celeste had given him.
“This is starting to become a habit.” Blakely squeezed between him and the next stool, not looking anywhere near as chipper as she’d been yesterday.
He helped her onto the chair. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. I just got some disturbing news, that’s all.” She pointed to the pan of rolls. “Hard to resist, aren’t they?”
“Morning, Blakely.” Celeste whisked along the other side of the counter.
“Hey there, Gage. Blakely.” Kaleb Palmer, Gage’s old classmate and the town’s most decorated veteran, waited in front of the register.
“I’ve been hearing some rumors about you, Kaleb.” Crossing her arms, Blakely leaned her elbows against the counter and looked past Gage. “And I sure hope they’re true.”
“Well, that depends.” The former soldier who’d lost a leg in Afghanistan grinned and handed Celeste a ten. “What kind of rumors?”
Blakely’s brow lifted. “That you’re looking to buy Mountain View Tours from Ross Chapman.”
Their good-natured friend accepted his change and turned to face them. “Then that would be correct.”
“Yes!” Blakely squirmed out of her chair and thrust her arms around Kaleb’s waist. “Praise the Lord and hallelujah.”
It was no secret that Ross Chapman, Mountain View Tours’ current owner, had been a thorn in Blakely’s side. Not to mention a poor businessman, nearly running the once well-established business into the ground.
Kaleb squeezed Blakely’s shoulder. “I just hope we can be allies instead of competitors.”
“Without a doubt. Trent and I will be happy to help you any way we can.”
“Good deal.” Kaleb started for the door, the hitch of his prosthetic leg virtually unnoticeable. “Now I’ve just got to get things hashed out with Chapman.”
Blakely grimaced. “Don’t bring up my name, then. However, I’ll definitely be praying for things to work out.”
“You can count me in on those prayers,” said Celeste.
“Me, too.” Gage admired Kaleb’s determination and positive outlook. He had every confidence his friend could do wonders for both Mountain View Tours and Ouray’s tourism industry.
“’Preciate that, guys.” Kaleb waved as he pushed the door open. “Catch ya later.”
Celeste grabbed a couple of menus as another couple entered the restaurant. “I’ll be right back, y’all.”
Gage helped Blakely back into her seat. “That news ought to help shore up whatever was bothering you earlier.”
“I wish.” She ran her fingers through her strawberry blond hair. “You know the fall festival?”
“Sure. The girls were just talking about it the other day.”
“Linda Barrow was supposed to be in charge. I found out this morning that she completely dropped the ball.”
He eased back int
o his own chair, studying Blakely’s pinched expression. “What do you mean?”
“You know her mom’s been sick.”
He nodded.
“Apparently time got away from her. Not one thing has been done for the festival.”
“What festival?” Celeste peeled a sheet from her order pad and clipped it to the wheel on the pass-through before giving it a spin.
“The fall festival,” said Blakely. “All the churches in town come together to put on a carnival for the kids,” Gage explained.
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is.” Blakely folded her hands atop the counter. “Especially for the kids.”
“But it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen this year.” Gage shook his head. “Which is a shame. A lot of kids are going to be disappointed. Mine included.”
“No. They’re not.”
Both Celeste and Gage stared at Blakely.
“Austin has always loved the festival.” She absently rubbed her belly, as though considering the child growing inside her, too. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing such a wonderful tradition. So...I said I’d take over.”
Gage narrowed his gaze. “At the risk of sounding like Captain Obvious, you do realize you’re about to have a baby, don’t you?”
Blakely laughed. “Not for another month. The festival will be over long before my due date.”
“Still, you can’t take this all on by yourself, Blakely. How can I help? Besides sustaining you with cookies and cinnamon rolls.”
Their friend grinned. “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning on doing the whole thing by myself. Just the organizing. I’ve got to come up with some people willing to solicit donations of food and prizes, create and set up games, recruit volunteers to work the festival...”
“I can do the recruiting and solicitation.” Celeste’s expression turned serious.
A Father's Second Chance (Contemporay Christian Romance) Page 4