Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel

by Pamela Clare

  “Does that mean my climbing gear has to move out of the closet?”

  “I’m afraid so, babe.”

  “I suppose you’ll want some kind of secret drawer for your panties.” His tone of voice—so serious—made her laugh.

  “Absolutely.” God, she loved him. “I also need to hire someone to drive my car out here.”

  He gave a low whistle. “That will be expensive.”

  “You forgot something.” She lifted her head and looked up at him, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I’m rich.”

  He laughed, flipped her onto her back. “That was my goal the whole time, you know—to marry a woman with money.”

  “You’re such a liar.” Wait. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

  “What do you say we pick up Lexi and Taylor tomorrow morning early and drive to Vegas to get hitched?”

  The vows Lexi and Austin had said to each other came back to her. “I, Victoria Christine Woodley, take you, Eric whatever-your-middle-name-is Hawke—”

  He gave a little laugh. “Matthew.”

  “—Eric Matthew Hawke, to be my husband in a marriage of equals.”

  Eric joined her now, the two of them saying the words together.

  “I commit to you all that I own and all that I am—body, heart, and soul. I promise that you will be the source of my pleasure—and my solace in times of pain. I promise to share your dreams and your fears, to comfort you and shield you from harm, and to show you respect, love, and devotion through all the joys and struggles of our lives together. Most of all, I promise to be your faithful and true friend, honoring you above all others, from this moment until my dying breath.”

  His gaze went soft. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  He kissed her, pulling back when she broke into giggles. “What’s so funny?”

  “Won’t Lexi and Austin be surprised?”

  Epilogue

  Eric parked their new SUV and the two of them climbed out, Vic feeling more than a little nervous. They walked hand-in-hand toward the terminal, a cold November wind blowing in from the northwest.

  “If he says another word about you signing a postnuptial agreement, I’m going to ask him to leave. He and James can spend Thanksgiving somewhere else.”

  Her father hadn’t reacted well to the news of their marriage. First, he’d asked her if she was pregnant, then he’d immediately suggested an annulment. He’d even consulted an attorney on her behalf about drawing up a postnup to make sure that Eric couldn’t get his hands on her money.

  And now her father and brother were coming to stay in Scarlet—for a week.

  “Cut him some slack. He’s your dad. He’s just trying to look out for you.”

  “He all but accused you of marrying me for money.” She’d been furious and had almost hung up on him.

  Eric gave her the look he saved for moments when he thought she was being too emotional. “If I had a beautiful daughter who was independently wealthy and stood to inherit a fortune—and one day I just might—I’d probably have those same worries, particularly if she married some small-town guy out of the blue.”

  She supposed he had a point. “You’re about to meet my father and brother for the first time, and I’m the nervous one.”

  Eric chuckled. “Relax. Either they’ll accept me or they won’t. The good thing is that I didn’t marry them. I married you.”

  The automatic doors slid open, and she saw them. They stood near the baggage carousel waiting for their luggage. Both were wearing plaid shirts and blue jeans. Is that how they thought everyone in Colorado dressed?

  She bit back a laugh and waved.

  James saw her, waved back, tugged on their father’s sleeve.

  Her father turned, his face lighting up when he saw her.

  She hurried over to him, surprised by the rush of emotion she felt. “Hey, Dad.”

  He swept her up in a hug. “It’s so good to see you, kiddo.”

  “It’s good to see you, too. Eric, this is my father, Charles Woodley. Dad, this—”

  Nearby, someone cried out.

  Vic turned to find a woman kneeling next to an older man, who lay on the floor, mouth open, eyes staring at the ceiling.

  In a heartbeat, Eric was there. He knelt beside the man, pointing first to one bystander and then another. “You call nine-one-one, tell them we need an ambulance. You call airport security and see whether they have an AED.”

  “Are you a doctor?” the woman asked, clearly terrified.

  “No, ma’am. I’m a firefighter and paramedic. I’m going to do everything I can to help him, okay?” He checked the man’s breathing, felt for a pulse, then started chest compressions.

  Vic watched, pulse racing, feeling completely helpless, one of dozens of people standing around while Eric fought to save the man’s life, alternating between rescue breaths and compressions.

  Two uniformed airport staff pushed their way through the crowd, one of them carrying a large white plastic box. Wide-eyed, she set the box down beside him. “I don’t know how to use this.”

  “I’ll handle it.” Eric’s voice was unbelievably calm. “I’ll keep doing CPR until you have it set up. Open it up, and turn it on.”

  Once the machine was ready to go, Eric tore open the man’s shirt and stuck electrode pads to his chest. Then he took off the man’s wedding ring. “Let go of his hand, ma’am. Here’s his wedding ring. Move back a bit. Is everyone clear?”

  He pushed a button, and the machine delivered a shock that made the man jerk.

  For a moment, no one made a sound.

  The man coughed, moaned.

  Eric let out a relieved breath, turned the man onto his left side, took the man’s pulse again. “Sir, can you hear me? An ambulance is on its way.”

  “He saved that man’s life,” someone said behind Vic.

  Her throat tight, Vic looked up at her father and brother. “Whatever else you think of him, my husband is a hero.”

  Her father nodded. “So I see.”

  Eric and Victoria got their guests checked into their rooms at the inn, said a quick hello to Bob and Kendra, then went for supper at Knockers so that Charles and James could taste Victoria’s pizza. While they waited for their order, she explained the business model, told them about the advertising campaign she’d worked up and how she’d had to double her staff in the first week of operation. “We just started home deliveries this month, and so far the response has been amazing.”

  James seemed impressed. “I think it’s a great idea. You might be able to franchise this, open up stores in Denver and …”

  Sasha and Nicole walked in, both of them dressed like they’d just come from the rock gym. They waved, then took a seat near the climbing wall.

  James stared at Sasha. “Is she a friend of yours?”

  “Yes. That’s Sasha Dillon. She—”

  Eric cut Victoria off with a subtle shake of his head.

  She smiled, understanding. “She’s a real sweetheart.”

  “Call her over,” James said. “Introduce me.”

  Victoria walked over to their table, and the two of them came back with her to say hello. “Sasha, Nicole, this is my brother, James, and my father, Charles.”

  “Hey.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Charles said.

  “How was the rock gym?” Eric asked.

  Nicole answered. “We got a good workout.”

  “Are you two learning to climb?” James asked.

  Oh, this was going to be good.

  “I’m always trying to get better,” Sasha answered.

  “Let me know if you’d like some tips. I’ve done a fair amount of climbing.”

  “Really?” Sasha looked at him through innocent eyes, pointing to the rock wall. “I’d love to see what you can do.”

  “I’m not really dressed for it, but okay.” James got to his feet.

  Victoria walked away with them, smiling over her shoulder at Eric.
>
  Charles watched as they reached the rock wall and James started giving Sasha pointers. “My son is about to get his ass handed to him, isn’t he?”

  Eric nodded. “Sasha Dillon is one of the best rock climbers in the world.”

  Eric sipped his beer, watched as James struggled up what looked like a 5.9 route, demonstrating holds for Sasha. He felt a stab of satisfaction when Sasha roped in and bolted past James, making big moves just to show off. Eric could hear Victoria’s laughter from here.

  Charles frowned. “I guess James had that coming, though it was unkind of Victoria to let her brother make a fool of himself. I hope she’ll apologize.”

  “Yeah—after he apologizes to her for giving her private info to a predator.”

  “What are you talking about?” Charles’ gaze went cold.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  Eric told him what Victoria had said about James giving her info—her photo, the amount in her trust fund, her contact info—to that bastard. “He’s the reason that son of a bitch set his sights on her in the first place.”

  A muscle flexed in Charles’ jaw. “I hadn’t heard this.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  Charles was quiet for the rest of the evening, keeping to himself except to praise the pizza and his daughter’s culinary skills. “If I’d realized how much you loved to cook, I would have sent you to school in Paris.”

  He stepped outside once to make a phone call. When he returned, it was clear he was furious with James.

  Eric played climbing videos for Charles and James, doing his part to help with Thanksgiving dinner by keeping them out of the way, the scent of roasting turkey making his mouth water. Victoria and his mother buzzed about the tiny kitchen together, stirring, basting, tasting, talking—and sipping chardonnay.

  “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” Victoria said. “Robin, do you want to set the table while I mash the potatoes?”

  Her brother got to his feet, a smile on his face. “I could probably fit this entire cabin into my living room—no offense intended.”

  Victoria rolled her eyes at her brother. “I’d take this over a pricey Manhattan condo any day—no offense intended.”

  Eric chuckled at his wife’s response. He didn’t give a damn what her brother thought. “I’m going to carry in some wood to build up the fire.”

  To his surprise, Charles followed. “I’ll help.”

  They put on their coats and stepped out into the twilight. A cold wind blew from the north, the sky overcast, the scent of snow in the air. Already, flakes had begun to fall.

  Eric walked to the woodpile and began to fill his arms.

  Charles did the same. “I wanted to have a private word with you.”

  Why was Eric not surprised?

  He knew what the man was going to say next. He bit his tongue and prepared himself mentally for a speech about postnups. “I want you to know that Victoria and I have agreed that her trust fund is to be used only for emergencies. We plan to live off the money we earn so that we can pass that gift on to our kids.”

  Charles gave a nod. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I think you should spend some of it, don’t you? Have a little fun. Travel. That’s what money’s for, right? But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

  Oh? This ought to be interesting.

  “First, I want to apologize for how I reacted to news of your marriage.”

  Okay, well, that’s not at all what Eric had been expecting.

  “Victoria is my pride and joy. God knows I have my shortcomings as a father, but I love my children. James is a lot like his mother, but Victoria is special. I’ve been setting money aside since the day she was born for a big society wedding. I always imagined a few hundred people at Trinity Church and a big reception. I’ve been looking forward to walking her down the aisle. Because you went to Las Vegas, I didn’t get that chance.”

  Eric hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sorry.”

  Charles picked up another piece of firewood. “I have myself to blame. I didn’t support Victoria the way I should have during her recent hard times. Naturally, she pulled away from me.”

  “It would mean the world to her to hear you say that.”

  “I plan to talk to her before I go and make sure her brother apologizes as well.”

  Eric was happy to hear it. So far, this conversation was going a lot better than he’d imagined.

  Charles went on. “I hope I can persuade the two of you to come back to Manhattan when your duties allow. I’d like to host an informal reception—a chance for our friends and relatives to congratulate you both.”

  “We can probably work something out.”

  “And now I’ll get to the point.”

  Here we go. Postnups.

  “I’ve taken the money I saved for her wedding and made it part of my wedding gift to the two of you. I don’t want to offend you or intrude in your lives, but she is my only daughter, and you are my son-in-law.”

  Eric wondered what this gift might be and how much money Charles was talking about, but didn’t ask. “I’m sure we’ll be grateful.”

  Charles picked up one last piece of wood. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re exactly what my daughter needs—a man with his feet on the ground, someone who can encourage her and keep her safe, someone who isn’t impressed with money. I know what she sees in you, and I’m proud of her for choosing a man based on his character and not his bank account or social standing.”

  Eric was stunned into silence for a moment. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I know you and your mother have had a hard time of it. Yes, Victoria shared that with me. The world isn’t a fair place, that’s for sure. I hope that over time I can become a father for you in some small way, just like Robin has become a mother for Victoria.” With that, Charles turned and walked up the stairs.

  Eric stared after him, a strange lump in his throat.

  Vic reached over, took Eric’s hand. “I am grateful for my husband. I’m grateful for my home. I’m grateful for my new life. I’m grateful for good friends. I’m grateful that my father and brother came all the way out here to spend our first Thanksgiving together with us. I’m grateful that I don’t forget things all the time now.”

  It was her father’s tradition each Thanksgiving to share reasons for feeling gratitude, and it was a tradition she was happy to keep.

  “I guess it’s my turn.” Robin looked over at her son. “I am grateful for my son and his wonderful, beautiful wife. I have a new daughter, and I love her. She’s brought so much joy to our lives. Everyone in Scarlet loves her. I’m grateful for my continued health and the health of my loved ones.”

  Eric gave his mother’s hand a squeeze. “Well, this is easy. I am grateful to be alive and to share my life with you, Victoria. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I will be grateful for every single day we have together. I’m grateful for the mother who loves me, for the food on our table, for the roof over our heads, and for the new family I’m just getting to know.”

  She saw his gaze meet her father’s, an understanding passing between them. What had they talked about when they’d been getting wood? They’d been out there for a while.

  James put down his wine. “Let’s see... I’m grateful third-quarter sales figures were higher than we thought they’d be. I’m grateful that the old bag upstairs from me is moving out and taking her two yappy dogs with her. I’m grateful that my sister met a good guy and that they got married in Vegas so that I didn’t have to go to a wedding. I’m just kidding. I’m grateful that you’re happy, Vic.”

  Then it was her father’s turn. “I’m grateful that my daughter is safe and alive and whole. I’m grateful for the good man she married. I’m grateful for the time we’ve been able to spend together. I’m grateful that I’m able to give them this wedding gift.”

  He placed a small brown envelope in the center of the table. “Go ahead. Open it.�
��

  Vic reached out, picked up the envelope, and opened it to find two keys inside. “What are these for?”

  Her father smiled. “Look at the tags.”

  There was an address written on them.

  “That’s our address. Wait. No, it’s not.” Blood rushed to Vic’s head. “It’s … Oh, my God! You bought the house! You bought the property!”

  She jumped out of her chair, ran around to the side of the table, and hugged him. “Thank you!”

  “What?” Eric took the keys from her, stared at the address, then looked up at her father. “Holy fucking shit!”

  For a moment, she thought he might faint.

  He gaped at her father. “Pardon my French, but the property was listed for…”

  More than two million dollars.

  Vic had looked. She’d decided not to buy it because it would have come close to emptying her trust fund. Besides, she’d been happy in the cabin.

  “It’s yours now—the house, the property, this cabin. You can live here and rent the big house out. You can live there and keep this as a man cave. Robin, you could live here, closer to your son.”

  Robin blinked back tears. She reached out, took his hand, and gave it a squeeze. “That’s quite a wedding present. Forgive my son. I’m sure he’ll remember his manners when the shock wears off.”

  Eric seemed to have recovered—mostly. “Thank you, sir. We’re both grateful.”

  James reached for the potatoes. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s eat.”

  As soon as they were alone, Eric and Victoria climbed into his pickup and drove through the falling snow to see their new house.

  “How much do you think your dad had socked away for your wedding?”

  “I think I remember him saying it was close to a million.”

  A laugh burst from Eric’s throat. “A million dollars? For a wedding?”

  He’d thought Lexi and Austin had been nuts when they’d spent ten grand.

  Clearly, it didn’t faze Victoria.

  Eric was so blown away, he almost missed the deer standing in the middle of the road. He slammed on his brakes, saving the deer and his truck.