House of Belonging

by Andrea Thome

  She didn’t have to say anything else. Van dropped the papers he’d been holding and rushed across the porch to pull her into his arms.

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  In the eighteen months since he’d moved to Aspen, Logan had managed to carve out a perfectly comfortable existence for himself. In many ways, it really hadn’t been that big of a change. His was a simple life, much like the one he’d left behind in Colorado Springs in order to be nearer to his half sister and her new husband. He’d loved his job as an Expert Ranger for the Pikes Peak Ranger District, but aside from work and a few friends, there wasn’t really anything tying him to that area. Finding out he had a sister and having Willow so readily invite him into her world were the best things that had ever happened to Logan. Getting a brother-in-law like Garrett was an unexpected bonus, and the two men had grown close over the past year and a half.

  Willow and Garrett were the only family he had now, and his relationship with them was one that he cherished. You didn’t go through something as traumatic as they had and not come out the other side monumentally changed by the experience. It had been seventeen months since the accident that had almost cost Willow her life, precipitating the need for Logan to donate a part of his liver to her. They’d both healed physically and become not only closer siblings but also best friends during the months-long process. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his sister, and the feeling was mutual.

  Logan hadn’t spoken to his own mother in over a year, but he’d received a few letters, which he’d thrown into a drawer unopened. He didn’t know what she could say to change what had happened; she’d essentially vanished from his life when she realized her relationship with her son wasn’t going to be a lucrative one for her anymore. If she only knew. He shuddered at the possibility of her realizing her error and shook his head to chase the thought away. He wanted nothing to do with her.

  Willow had inherited a great deal of money from their late father, and despite Logan’s repeated attempts at refusal, she’d insisted on splitting the windfall with him, right down the middle. Even after he’d splurged and bought himself a small horse ranch just north of Walland House, Logan still had enough money to ensure that he’d never have to work another day in his life. That wasn’t his style, though. He’d wisely invested the rest of his cash, and had come up with a game plan for all his newfound free time.

  He’d been thrilled when Willow and Garrett had embraced his idea of letting their guests use his horses for rides on the Walland House property and in the surrounding national forest. Logan’s outdoor survival training made him the perfect person to oversee the program, and it also positioned him to occasionally lead trail rides himself. He’d struck an earlier deal with Susan and Finn, the owners of the flagship resort back in Tennessee, to plan and execute unique outdoor adventures for their Aspen guests who might be interested in such opportunities.

  Temperatures were only in the fifties that Sunday morning, but the sun was hot, and he’d worked up a sweat grooming his horse Diamond after their early-morning ride. Logan set the dandy brush on the edge of the stall, peeling his shirt off and tossing it over the paddock door. The crisp morning air cooled him just enough that he could comfortably set about cleaning and storing the rest of his tack. He’d just finished lifting his saddle back onto the rack when he heard a low whistle coming from the vicinity of his office across the hall.

  “I know a few ladies in town who’d pay big bucks for a snapshot of what’s going on right here.”

  Logan grinned, shaking his head at the imposing salt-and-pepper-haired man dressed in head-to-toe denim who was standing there twirling the end of his thick mustache with his oversized hand. “Very funny, old man. Do me a favor—don’t just stand there in your redneck tuxedo. Make yourself useful. Reach over on my desk and hand me a dry shirt from the stack sitting there.”

  Buck Randolph was Logan’s foreman and one of the first friends he’d made after he moved to Aspen last spring. He’d met the experienced rancher while having a beer at a tavern in town, and after a couple of hours, they’d become buddies. In time, Buck had become a bit of a wingman for Logan. His weathered good looks attracted more mature women; Logan tended to date their daughters. A month after Logan finalized the purchase of his ranch, he asked Buck about partnering with him to run his new stables.

  Logan had worked plenty of summer jobs with horses as a kid back in Pennsylvania, so he felt very comfortable around the animals, but he didn’t know anything about the real business of a working stable. Buck had sold his own outfit a few years earlier after his wife, Annie, had died, and he’d moved into town to simplify his life. It was divine timing for each of them. Logan needed a steady hand, and Buck needed some excitement in his life. They’d hired a couple of local ranch hands, and together they’d started to make something of the place.

  Buck reached into the office and picked up an old U2 shirt from the top of the pile on Logan’s desk and wadded it up to throw to his young friend. Catching it with one hand, Logan unfolded the faded cotton tee and slid it over his head in one quick motion.

  Buck helped himself to a ceramic mug sitting on a sideboard and filled it with the coffee still warming in the adjacent tack room. “Saw we had a trail ride on the books for this morning, and figured that, after your late night, you might want one of the crew to take the lead. Unfortunately, they all had late nights too, it seems, so those folks are stuck with the likes of me today, I guess.” He took a sip from his mug. “Unless you’d rather take them?”

  Logan poured himself a cup of coffee, his third of the morning, in the hopes that this one might finally do the trick. He hadn’t slept much the night before, replaying the events of the reception in his mind over and over. By the time he’d fallen asleep, his alarm had rudely reminded him it was time to get back up again.

  He’d wanted to be sure to wake up early so he’d have time to take Diamond out alone, not wanting his new horse to fall out of the routine he’d worked hard for weeks to establish. Diamond was a rescue horse, and the old boy had trust issues. It was Logan’s business to change the stately animal’s mind, one day at a time. He knew he was close to a breakthrough, and he wasn’t going to let a hangover jeopardize that.

  In truth, he hadn’t had much to drink at the reception. He enjoyed the occasional beer or glass of wine, but he’d seen during his lifetime how alcohol could ruin people, so he steered clear of that particular vice for the most part. It wasn’t too much alcohol that had his brain cloudy at the moment, though.

  It was her.

  He’d be damned if he could figure out how she’d managed to infect his thoughts so completely. He knew himself well enough to realize it wasn’t just the thrill of the chase, although that was a pastime he rather enjoyed. Flirting was fun, and more importantly, it was usually fruitful and harmless because, if he did it right, no one could get that close to him. His mother’s example hadn’t given him much regard for the machinations of the fairer sex.

  But Laina was different from most of the women he’d ever met. For one thing, it impressed him how much time and effort she’d been putting into getting her business up and running. He’d heard bits and pieces from India and Wyatt about her plans for the new restaurant, which was completely eco-friendly and had been built from the ground up. It was located right on the banks of the Roaring Fork River, and the side of the building that faced the water was nothing but glass. It was quite an investment she’d made, and the place looked and sounded like it would be vastly different than anything else in town.

  “Where’d that mind of yours get to?” Buck was watching Logan’s face as he waited for a response to his question. The boy had something on his mind, and it wasn’t the trail ride.

  “Sorry, I’m a little tired, is all. I stayed late last night to make sure everyone made it home safe.” He stretched, then continued. “You go ahead and lead the group if you would, and I’ll go see what else is in the works for the next couple of weeks at Walland
House. I told Wyatt I’d swing by the house to meet them around ten, and it’s nine forty-five now.”

  People were starting to wander over from Walland House for the trail ride when Logan made his way out to his old Ford Bronco, greeting them as they passed by. Most of the riders were friends of Willow and Garrett’s who’d traveled in from all over the country for the wedding. Logan chuckled when he saw that the majority of them looked like they’d rather still be in bed instead of preparing to ride horses the morning after the big party. He knew from experience that a couple of hours spent in the mountain air and sunshine would be just the thing to set them right again.

  Logan rolled down his window, letting his arm rest on the door as he set off for the West End. India and Wyatt were staying over there, in the house that Susan and Finn had purchased a year and a half ago when Walland House was still just an idea.

  Maroon Creek Road was already filled with runners and walkers, out enjoying the beautiful morning. As he made his way around the traffic circle, it occurred to Logan that summer had seemingly arrived just in time for Willow and Garrett’s wedding weekend. He was so happy for both of them, and found himself tapping along with the Keith Urban song playing on the radio, keeping time on the steering wheel. Wildflowers dotted the landscape, and as he pulled into the drive, he noticed several neighbors out working in their yards, planting flowers and hanging baskets full of brightly colored blooms from their porches.

  “There he is.” Finn was standing in the doorway waiting for him, having traded his fancy “wedding duds,” as he’d called them, for his favorite old overalls.

  All was right with the world again.

  “Morning, Finn. Hope I’m not late. I squeezed in a quick ride on a horse I’m working with, and time got away from me.” The two men shook hands, Finn grasping Logan on the arm in friendship.

  “Just ’cause I was up with the sun doesn’t mean everyone else has to be. You’re right on time. I reckon India and Wyatt’ll be right down. I fed the kids pancakes a while ago, so I know everyone’s awake.”

  They heard a car pull up behind them in the drive and saw Violet and Rex, along with their almost-seven-year-old daughter, Sadie, who had already slammed her door and was making a beeline for Finn.

  He stooped down just in time for a big hug from his favorite girl. “Hey, sugar, what took you so long? Those babies are needing someone to show them how to play, and Susie and I just put a brand-new sandbox in the backyard, so you’d better get to it.”

  Sadie squealed with delight and took off through the front door in search of India and Wyatt’s eighteen-month-old twins, Dylan and Marley.

  Violet was coming up the steps, holding Sadie’s two-yearold brother, Evan. “Wait for Evan, Sadie!” She rolled her eyes as she kissed both Finn and Logan on the cheek. “The bloom is off the rose when it comes to her own brother. He’s old news. The twins are the headliners now.”

  Violet went ahead to get the kids settled in the backyard, while her husband, Rex, made his way up the porch steps.

  “What’s shakin’, fellas? Some party last night, huh? We were just questioning the wisdom of this morning meeting on the way over, but I guess with the kiddos on board, we’d have been up anyway. Evan never got the memo about sleeping in on vacation.”

  They chatted for a few minutes before Susan gathered everyone in the kitchen so they could go over the schedule of activities for the next two weeks leading up to the Food and Wine Classic. Walland House was one of the title sponsors for the first time this year, and they wanted to make sure the decisions they made were going to be impactful.

  They’d already made a splash with event organizers by agreeing to sponsor the VIP Grow for Good tent, where a select crowd, who had paid several thousand dollars more a ticket, could rub elbows with the biggest names in the culinary world, all while helping to support and raise awareness about sustainable agriculture.

  The group chatted about putting together a couple of auction items, including an overnight Luxury Survivor experience that Logan had offered to lead. Everything fell into place beautifully, as it always did when the team worked together. They enjoyed each other and respected one another, which is what had made Walland House such a successful brand, even in its infancy. People loved the feeling that they were coming to stay at someone’s home, but guests were usually more thrilled to discover they could still have the opulence and privacy that Walland House provided once they got there.

  Before they knew it, two hours had flown by, and they’d just wrapped up the brunch that Susan had prepared for them when India proposed one final idea.

  “I’ve saved the best for last,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “What about asking Laina Ming to host a small, exclusive event for our guests and some of the Grow for Good folks at her restaurant on the night before the Classic begins? For charity, of course? We can let her select which one. In fact, let’s auction off the Luxury Survivor item at her event!”

  Logan swore India was avoiding his gaze, despite the fact that his head had snapped around at the mention of Laina’s name.

  “I know it would be expensive to buy her out for an evening, especially since she’s about to be the hottest ticket in town, but I think there is a certain panache in having our brand tied to hers so early on. She’s positioned to be quite a local influencer. Thoughts?”

  She looked around at all of them, and Logan knew she was working hard to put forth her best poker face. She had tried unsuccessfully to set them up last summer, after all, and he knew by now that India wasn’t the kind of person who quit without a fight. He figured he should pull her aside and dissuade her from trying to pair him with Laina, but something gave him pause. It could be a lucrative brand partnership for everyone, and if he was thinking with his business hat on, he didn’t want to stand in the way of that.

  Susan was the first to answer. “I think it’s a lovely idea. She was wonderful when we hosted her at the resort back east a few years ago, and that was when she was just beginning to crest. I’ve seen the new restaurant, and I think it fits in beautifully with our aesthetic. Let’s at least see if she’s interested. India, can you stop by today and ask her? I would, but we’re leaving within the hour for the airport. We’ve had this quick trip to Santa Fe planned since we knew we’d be here for the kids’ wedding.”

  India smiled. “I wish I could, but we have a family photo shoot up at Maroon Bells at three, and I’ll be lucky if I have my crew ready in time. It’s already almost twelve thirty!”

  She paused, innocently shifting her gaze over to Logan. “You’ve met her a couple of times, Logan, and I saw you chatting with her last night. Would you mind approaching her with the idea? It doesn’t have to be anything formal. Just swing by the restaurant and let her know we’re . . . interested.”

  She looked at him sweetly, waiting for his response.

  He wouldn’t dare let her know he was rattled by the suggestion. “Sure. I guess I can run by before I head back to the ranch. Buck has things covered. I’ll make sure she knows to follow up with you in the next day or so with her answer.” There. Take that, India. He could play it cool.

  Violet choked back a laugh, covering her hand with her mouth when India shot her a look.

  Rex glanced at his wife before turning his attention back to Logan. “I don’t know what you did to capture the imagination of these two, but, brother, I’m gonna be the first to wish you the best of luck with”—he waved his hand in a circular motion among the three of them—“this whole thing you’ve got going on.” Rex shook his head before standing up to carry his plate to the sink.

  Wyatt laughed and slapped Logan on the back. “He’s not lying, man. You’re in the crosshairs now. And there’s no way out. Take it from me.”

  Wyatt took two large strides toward India, who had risen to her feet and was staring back at her husband with a mock offended look on her face. Wyatt grabbed his wife by the shoulders, her mouth open to protest, and dipped her backward for a long, slow kiss that
made Violet and Rex hoot and holler.

  Finn grinned at Susan, who smiled back at him before rising to escort Logan as he beat a path toward the front door. “Don’t mind them, Logan. You know by now that Wyatt and Rex like to have someone to pick on. India clearly trusts you, as we all do. She knows that you’re the right person to approach Laina with this idea. It’s nothing more than that.”

  She kissed him on the cheek, patting his arm as he opened the door to leave. “Now go use some of that Logan Matthews charm that seems to work so well on the female population here in our little mountain town.”

  Logan swore he saw Susan wink at Finn as she turned back around.

  What the hell did I just agree to?

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  Laina had chosen the land for her restaurant for a few reasons. It was a little off the beaten path, tucked quietly down a dead-end street that butted up to the Roaring Fork River. It was also on the east end of town, close to her house and just around the corner from Van’s place. She liked knowing that if the mood struck her, it was easy to jump in the car—or even go for a quick run—and get to work in just a few minutes. There’d been evenings she’d found herself alone in the middle of the night, sitting at one of the tables, contemplating how the hell she’d ended up in Aspen in the first place. She did some of her best thinking when everyone else was asleep, and since her restaurant hadn’t yet been wired for phone service, it was a quiet place she could go to brainstorm. When any little doubts about her master plan crept in, as they sometimes did, she found it easier to convince herself to forge ahead when she was physically immersed in the space.

  As she waited for Van, she absentmindedly ran her hand back and forth over the smooth surface of the enormous butcher-block portion of the countertop she’d insisted on. She could imagine the sound of her knives as they clacked against the Brazilian wood, chopping the organic vegetables that had become a hallmark of her cooking. She’d been classically trained as a plant-based chef, and her other restaurants had been vegetarian and vegan, respectively. But she planned to have a little more diversity on this menu, in the hopes that she could lure people in with the idea of fish and meat, and persuade them to return because her plant-based creations were so inspired. She wasn’t the kind of chef who insisted people eat one way and like it. She offered options, and knew customers would end up ordering exactly what they were supposed to experience.