Her Mountainside Haven

by Jo McNally

  “Let me get this straight...” He kissed her lips softly, speaking low against her skin. “I made arrangements to stay in Gallant Lake for you, while you were making arrangements to leave Gallant Lake for me?” He kissed her again. “If that’s not true love, then I don’t know what is.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Robbie’s fingers entwined with Monica’s as the sun rose the next morning. It was still a deadly ball of flame and heat. But it didn’t frighten Monica any longer. She and Robbie may have to fight again. But not today. And never alone.

  Jillie spent a long time kissing Matt. She would have spent even longer if she could, but he finally lifted his head and broke the kiss that had her tingling from head to toe. He was chuckling and shaking his head.

  “You and I are a pair, babe. We take a two-week ‘break—’” he formed air quotes with his fingers “—and we both decide to change our lives. Just like that. I’m not a rolling stone, and you are.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but yes. We’re each giving up a part of ourselves that we thought was permanent. Your wanderlust and my...lack of wanderlust.”

  He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m liking the sound of all that lust.”

  Her laughter bubbled up, feeling like a release valve for all the tension of the past few weeks. “I’ll bet you do.” Her smile faltered. “I missed you, Matt. And it’s not just you being gone from Gallant Lake. I missed knowing for sure that you were in my life. It felt like I’d lost an arm or a leg. I’m sorry I didn’t answer all those silly, gossipy texts of yours...” He started to protest, but she talked over him. “It took me a while to figure out what I needed to do. I was scared. And when you came back to Gallant Lake but didn’t come see me, I’ll admit I was hurt. But you kept texting, day after day, and it kept my hope alive. I love you. And if we love each other, that’s enough of a foundation for us to build on.”

  “I agree,” Matt said. “I had this idea that love meant the picket fence and minivan life, and I wasn’t sure if I could do that. We don’t have to have a life that looks like anyone else’s, though. We can build our own, you and I.”

  She nodded. “Shane and Mel figured it out. He travels a lot, but he’s never gone for more than a few days at a time. We could handle that, right?”

  “We can handle that. We’ll find a way. And honestly? Bryce was right when he said he didn’t need a chaperone anymore. He’s twenty-four. He’s going to have to make his own choices. Like you said, my job is done. But if you can figure out a way to come with me once in a while...even if it’s Lake Placid or Killington—places we can drive to—that would be great.”

  “I’m going to try. But if I can’t...”

  “If you can’t, it won’t change a thing. I will never ask you to do something you’re not capable of. I don’t ever want to be the cause of pain or stress for you, although I’m sure I will be at times. I’m not perfect by a long shot.” He kissed her forehead. “Can I give you a tour of the place? Would that be a good start on going places?”

  She was anxious, but not afraid. No one else was there. The layout was open and inviting. She nodded, and he showed her around. Sophie’s nails clicked softly on the floor. He was careful to keep to the center of the space, never getting her into a corner. He knew what she needed. A whisper of doubt arrived uninvited. But would he always?

  They sat on a small sofa near the fireplace, with Sophie at their feet, and he poured brandy into two small glasses. He clinked his glass against hers in a quiet toast, then frowned when he saw her expression.

  “What is it?”

  She chewed her lip, staring into her glass.

  “I’m not cured, you know. I’ll never really be cured. An anxiety disorder of some form will be with me, and I have no way of knowing how it will manifest itself five years from now.” She met his gaze, thankful that he wasn’t jumping to tell her everything would be okay. Because they didn’t know that. “I’ll do my best to manage the agoraphobia. It won’t be easy, but I think it’s doable. But something else might pop up in my brain. I’ll probably always need medication or therapy or both to deal with everyday life. I’ll never be...normal.”

  He waited a moment before answering, his forehead furrowing as if he was searching for words. “Remember when everyone in the world was talking about their lives being the new normal? Well, that’s what I see our life together as—maybe not normal for someone else, but our normal. And that normal will change sometimes. And that’s okay. As long as we face it together, Jillie.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Your anxiety doesn’t make you less than perfect. It doesn’t make you weak. It does the opposite, babe. It makes you strong. Like...superhero strong.” He kissed her lips, cupping one hand behind her head to draw her in. “I’m the goofy sidekick in the story who screws up all the time and eventually gets eaten by the monster.”

  She laughed, pulling away enough to look into his warm blue eyes, brimming with love for her. “No. You’re the hero in my story. The one who inspires me to be stronger than my fears. The one who showed me what love means.”

  Matt’s mouth slanted into an amused smile. “And what does it mean?”

  “For us? It means security. It means partnership. It means sacrificing a bit of ourselves for the greater good of us.”

  “And hot sex? Can we add that in there somewhere?”

  She leaned into his embrace, sliding close enough to straddle him on the sofa.

  “I think we can definitely add hot sex. And sweet sex. And all the other types of lovemaking in between.”

  They kissed, hands sliding up and down each other’s body, their actions growing more intense by the second. God, she’d missed him. Missed this. He pulled her onto his lap, and the sofa shook as if manifesting their passion. Except it wasn’t passion making it move. It was one large Rottweiler, wanting in on the fun. Sophie sat next to them with her mouth in a wide, sloppy smile. Jillie burst out laughing. Matt groaned and dropped his head to Jillie’s shoulder.

  “I keep telling you that dog hates me.”

  “No,” she said, patting his hair in sympathy as she giggled. “That dog loves you. Just like I do.” Matt lifted his head as she continued. “I love you, and I will love you forever.”

  He let her kiss him before he answered.

  “That’s good, because my love is forever, too. I am never letting go of you.”

  Sophie, apparently satisfied that all was well, curled up next to them, pushing against Matt’s leg. He sighed, reaching out to scratch her ears. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too, dog.”

  Jillie snuggled into his embrace. “We’re one big happy family.”

  He snorted. “I’ll agree on the happy part, babe.”

  Then he kissed her again, and she knew she’d found the one home she’d never want to leave—Matt Danzer’s love.

  * * *

  Don’t miss out on the rest of the Gallant Lake Stories miniseries,

  A Man You Can Trust

  It Started at Christmas...

  Her Homecoming Wish

  Changing His Plans

  available now from Harlequin Special Edition!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Wyoming Cinderella by Melissa Senate.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.

  Relate to finding comfort and strength in the support of loved ones and enjoy the journey no matter what life throws your way.

  6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  Wyoming Cinderella

  by Melissa Senate

  Chapter One

  There she was.

  Danica Dunbar. The woman of Zeke Dawson’s dreams for as long as he could remember. She stood chatting with another woman in front of Bear Ridge Realty on Main Street. Zeke hadn’t seen Danica since they’d graduated from high school thi
rteen years ago, when he’d left town and tried not to look back. He’d never forgotten her, though.

  Back in middle school and high school, when he’d have a bad day—and those were plentiful—he’d see Danica walking down the halls, her long, wavy, light blond hair flowing behind her, and the fight he’d had with his dad would leave his head. He’d find his father passed out drunk on the front porch in the middle of winter, no coat, he and his siblings using all their strength to pull him inside, and then at school, he’d see Danica by her locker, dabbing on strawberry-scented lip balm, and it was like magic: his home life evaporated. She’d always had a boyfriend and the rare time she was single, Zeke was dating someone who’d already bought a dress for whatever school dance, so they’d never had a chance. He’d probably spoken to her only a handful of times back then.

  Danica looked just the same, too, beautiful in her long red wool coat and shiny black heels. Zeke stood at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, surprised that he wasn’t thunderstruck or hit by lightning, that he didn’t hear a marching band with cymbals clanging in his head, something to signify seeing Danica, star of his fantasies for so long, after all these years.

  Maybe he was too old for that nonsense. At thirty-one, Zeke was a workaholic who’d quit the rat race—just last week—and had opened his own consulting firm here in Bear Ridge. He’d spent months on that decision, but last Christmas, when he was visiting his siblings at the family ranch, he’d heard Danica was getting divorced, and that info had been added to the Pros side about moving back to Bear Ridge from Cheyenne. Not that he was glad she’d gone through such a terrible life upheaval and heartache. But they were both finally available at the same time—and Zeke was going to make his move.

  Danica headed into the realty office. Interesting. Was she a Realtor? He was in the market for a house. A perfect reason to reacquaint. The woman she’d been chatting with stopped in front of his own office—Dawson Solutions, Inc.—a few doors down and appeared to be giving herself a once-over in the glass windowpane.

  Ah. That had to be Molly Orton, his two o’clock. She was ten minutes early—a good sign in his book. He’d been interviewing nonstop the past few days, and no one had been quite right for the position of his administrative assistant. He’d just spent the past hour complaining about that over burgers with two of his brothers at the diner.

  The light finally turned green and he headed across Main Street, his interviewee frowning at her reflection as she tried to tuck a long brown spiral curl into the low bun at the nape of her neck. The bun exploded, wild dark curls springing everywhere. He smiled and held back a bit, giving her a chance to redo the bun. She nodded at herself, then headed inside, glanced around and sat down in one of his new leather club chairs in the reception area.

  Zeke approached the office, the matte silver letters spelling out Dawson Solutions, Inc. giving him a deep sense of satisfaction. He’d never expected to move home and open his own business, but circumstances—from the call of family and his pint-size relatives to the breakup from hell with a colleague—had worn him down.

  He pulled open the door, his interviewee popping to her feet with her hand extended. He shook it—warm and firm and smooth. Molly had taken off her long puffy coat and was wearing a light beige pantsuit with a scarf at her neck. A silver pin in the shape of a cat was on her lapel.

  “I’m Molly Orton, here to interview for the administrative assistant position,” she said, that long spiral curl zinging out of the bun again. She shoved it behind her ear, a dimple in her right cheek appearing as she added, “Oh, but I’m sure you know that. I mean, we went to high school together. Middle school. Elementary, too. We were in the same kindergarten class. Mrs. Piedmont with those sparkly red cat’s-eye glasses. Gosh, I loved her.”

  They’d gone to school together? Her name hadn’t registered at all when he’d gone over her application and résumé.

  “I don’t remember Mrs. Piedmont or her glasses,” he said, taking off his coat and hanging it beside hers on the wrought-iron coatrack. “Though the name sounds kind of familiar. I’ve been gone from Bear Ridge a long time.” Over the years, Zeke would be surprised by a random memory flitting into his head, some good, some bad. He’d always tried to limit his thoughts on his hometown to his talisman, Danica Dunbar. “Glad to be back, though,” he added with a smile. That was true.

  Molly started to say something but then clamped her lips shut, her brown eyes widening a bit as she glanced out the front window. He turned to see what had snagged her attention. Nothing out of the ordinary. A few people were crossing Main Street, including the barber from the next block walking his elderly dachshund, and an older woman wheeling a baby stroller with a white box balancing on the handles.

  “So, let’s head to my office. Coffee?” he asked, gesturing toward a short hall. “My sister gave me a great macadamia-nut blend as an office-warming. I could go for a cup myself.” He led the way, appreciating the space he’d overhauled last week: the gray walls, the abstract-art carpet tiles, the sleek charcoal metal and leather furnishings, and the paintings and illustrations. He stopped in front of the coffee station set up on a credenza.

  Molly Orton was staring out the front window again. Hmm. Did she have an attention issue? Would she be staring out the window instead of compiling lists of companies that he needed for research? Staring out instead of answering the phone?

  She snapped her attention back to him. “I’d love a cup. And your sister is Daisy Dawson, right? I don’t know her, really, but Bear Ridge is a small town and of course everyone knows the Dawson Family Guest Ranch. You’re one of six siblings.” Her gaze moved to the window again.

  He set the coffee maker to brew, disappointed that he’d likely have to keep interviewing. He’d been so impressed with Molly’s résumé. Solid experience. Not a single typo. But she couldn’t even make small talk without getting distracted?

  She was right about the ranch; everyone did know it—once upon a time because of how his father had destroyed the original place and now for what a beloved, popular fixture the rebuilt guest ranch had become in under a year. He nodded and reached for two silver Dawson Solutions mugs. “They’ve all moved back home, too, and four of them are married with children. My oldest brother, Ford—he’s a cop here in town—and I are the lone holdouts, but—”

  The earsplitting wail of a baby interrupted him.

  Molly frowned and looked toward the window again. He did, too. The baby in the stroller—maybe a year old—was screaming bloody murder. As the woman pushing the stroller approached the sidewalk, leaning back the handles to raise the wheels over the curb, the box that had been resting on the handles fell off into the street.

  “WAAAAAH!” came another bloodcurdling wail.

  Molly slapped a palm to her forehead. “Excuse me for just one moment,” she said, and went racing out the door. He was right behind her. She hurried to the baby, undoing the straps and lifting the little girl out, holding her against the jacket of her pantsuit. “It’s okay, sweetsums, Mommy’s got you.” She patted the little back, the baby letting out a big yawn.

  Ah. Suddenly things made sense.

  “Mom, are you okay?” Molly asked the older woman, who looked like she was on the verge of tears.

  “I’m okay,” her mother said. “But I doubt the cake is.” She pointed at the white box in the street by the curb.

  Zeke tried to pick up the box, but as he did, the box fell apart and something resembling a cake—lots of pink and white—slid out and landed on his very expensive Italian leather shoes.

  “Oh, dear,” Molly’s mother said.

  Molly grimaced, shifting the baby in her arms. “I’m so sorry about your shoes. I’ll pay for a new pair, of course.”

  “Out of her first paycheck, maybe?” her mother asked with a sly smile.

  Zeke grinned at her mother. He liked her. He liked both of them.

 
“Hey, no worries,” he said, flicking his right foot to get a wedge of cake with lots of pink frosting off his shoe. “I’m sorrier the cake got wrecked. Strawberry shortcake? My favorite, too.”

  The two women looked at each other, and he could see relief flitting over their expressions. Zeke could easily see the family resemblance. The mother also had the wild curls, though her hair stopped at her chin, and they both had big brown eyes. “Don’t kill me, honey,” Molly’s mother said. “I shouldn’t have brought Lucy anywhere near your interview, but I guess she saw you through the window and wanted her mama.” She turned to Zeke and thrust out her hand. “Have I even introduced myself? Abby Orton, Molly’s mom. And that little darling is Lucy. She’s a year old today. Isn’t she just precious?” She walked over to Molly and made a funny face at her grandbaby, reaching out her arms.

  “Lucy, you go with Nana, okay, sweetie-kins? Mommy will you see in a little while at home for your party.”

  The baby started screaming again, holding out her arms for her mother.

  Molly sighed. “Or I could just leave now since I completely bombed this job interview,” she said under her breath. “I apologize for wasting your time, Mr. Dawson.”

  “Zeke. And of course you didn’t bomb or waste anything. In fact, I’d say rushing out of anywhere for a family emergency is a sign that you know your priorities.”

  Molly’s eyes widened.

  Her mother beamed. “Oh, she does. Molly is the best mother. And she’s on her own. I tell you, it’s not easy being a single working mother of a year-old baby, but Molly makes it work. She’s so organized and efficient!”

  “Mom,” Molly whispered, her cheeks flushed.

  Lucy let out a giant yawn and this time went right into Nana’s arms.

  “I’ll just get my grandbaby home,” Abby said. “See you later, honey. Good luck!” she added before sliding a hopeful look at Zeke.