“Wouldn’t you rather stay neat and clean at the Emporium?” he asked, reaching out to pluck a cobweb from the hair above her ear.
“Not really. Don’t you have any women on your payroll who do this kind of work?”
“A few. I don’t have a problem hiring women if they can do the job. Are you looking for other employment?”
Emily grinned. “Nope, I just want to be in on what happens here.”
His smile had its usual measured quality. “That’s your prerogative.”
* * *
THAT EVENING, WHILE having dinner out with Alaina, Emily was tempted to ask if anyone ever got close to Trent. But she had the oddest feeling that Alaina didn’t actually know her brother that well, either.
“By the way,” Emily said cautiously as they waited for dessert. “I’ve, uh, noticed that you kind of like Mike Carlisle.”
“That doesn’t mean... That is, you shouldn’t worry about...” Alaina’s voice trailed off miserably.
“Don’t worry,” Emily assured her. “We went out, but I’m not interested. Regardless, the two of you are much better suited.”
Alaina’s shoulders slumped. “Not that it makes any difference. I’ve had a thing for Mike for most of my life. But before he left for college I was too young for him to notice me that way. Then later, when he was playing pro ball, he had scads of girlfriends. I know because the Schuyler newspaper used to pick up any story that mentioned him, whether it was for the sports page or a gossip column, and Mom mailed the papers to me.”
Emily smiled sympathetically. It must have been hard for Alaina to know that the guy she cared about had been enjoying feminine companionship in every baseball city from Boston to San Diego.
“How about now?” she asked. “You both live in Schuyler and he obviously isn’t committed to anyone.”
“No luck so far,” Alaina answered darkly. “Getting injured gave Mike a major attitude problem. I bet he’s even angry at his parents because they insisted on college, which delayed his professional baseball career. Honestly, he acts as if everything in his life is bottom of the bucket because of that accident. The way he talks about teaching makes me want to scream. Teachers are important.”
“That’s what I told him, more or less.”
“Bet he didn’t pay any attention.”
Emily’s nose wrinkled. “Not so you’d notice.”
“Kids deserve someone who really cares about what they learn. Heck, a single teacher can make a huge difference in a child’s life, but he can’t see it.”
Alaina’s ire was more and more evident, and it confirmed Emily’s suspicion that Mike Carlisle’s expectations were low for everything now, including women. “Just because he doesn’t act interested doesn’t mean he’s indifferent,” she suggested, trying to sound encouraging.
“Maybe, but let’s refrain from discussing men for the rest of the evening,” Alaina said darkly. “Or even thinking about them. Instead, let’s have fudge cake with ice cream and talk about your house. What about putting in a hot tub or gazebo?”
“I’ve played with those ideas, and I’m also considering built-in cabinets for a TV and other electronics.”
“Vintage style would be fabulous.”
Emily laughed. “I can just see your brother’s face if I add anything to the list of stuff I want done. On the other hand, it is my house so I guess he’ll have to lump it.”
“Don’t mention Trent. He’s one of those men we aren’t supposed to be thinking about.”
After dinner they decided to check out the local bowling alley. The last time Emily had gone bowling had been in high school and she was surprised at how much fun it was. Alaina acted as if she was having a good time as well, but Emily suspected that deep down she remained despondent about how things were going with Mike. She wished there was a way to help, but matchmaking wasn’t her forte.
It was late when they finished and went out to their cars.
“You’re welcome to come over to Wild Rose Cottage anytime you want,” Emily said before getting into her car. It was old in car years, but still ran great. “You don’t need an invitation, whether it’s just me at home...or when the guys are there, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Surely you’ve realized that it would put you and Mike in the same location.” Issuing an open invitation to visit Wild Rose Cottage was the closest Emily could come to matchmaking.
“Are you sure you aren’t interested in him?” Alaina asked. “I don’t want to... Well, I never believed that stuff about all’s fair in love and war, if you get my drift.”
She was a nice person and Emily was glad she wanted to be friends.
“No, and he’s not interested in me, not really, just in a woman he thinks will fit his new life, so I’m absolutely, positively, completely and totally sure I don’t have the smallest interest in the guy. I can find additional adverbs if you need them.”
Alaina drew a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “Okay. You’re right that it’s an opportunity to see Mike where he can’t avoid me.”
It surprised Emily that Alaina was having trouble getting Mike’s attention. She was downright beautiful.
“You’re looking at me funny,” Alaina told her.
“Sorry, I was just thinking that you’re as pretty as my sister. She’s a supermodel, so I know pretty.”
Alaina’s eyebrows rose in a way that reminded Emily of Trent. “I don’t get it.”
Emily shrugged. “It’s nothing.” She yawned. “I’d better get to bed. The crew arrives before seven.”
She got in her car and waited until Alaina was in her Audi, then waved as they drove their separate ways.
The neighborhood was quiet when Emily let herself into Wild Rose Cottage. Most people in Schuyler were early-to-bed-early-to-rise types. For the most part it suited her, though she’d been known to enjoy a late movie at the theater. But the peace and quiet and friendliness of the small town were more than enough compensation for missing a midnight showing of the latest big-budget fantasy flick.
Yawning, she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed, pleasantly exhausted.
* * *
EMILY WOKE UP late and dashed to get the coffee started by the time Trent rang the front doorbell. The rest of the crew arrived a few minutes later and they went to the patio for the usual morning gathering.
It was disconcerting to have so many men in her home day after day. Her laundry and other chores had piled up because she’d been busy doing things for the Emporium after they left in the afternoons and on the weekends, and there was little time in the morning before they arrived. She could do it while they were working, but it felt strange to think about washing her personal items with them around.
Well, it mostly seemed strange because of Trent.
There was no denying she was attracted to him. Trent Hawkins was the kind of intense, driven guy that women often went nutty over, but she couldn’t afford to join their ranks. With his looks he could have his choice of feminine companionship, and he certainly wasn’t going to choose her.
Given their discussion the evening before, Emily wasn’t surprised to see Alaina show up at lunchtime. Unfortunately Mike had left to meet with the principal at the high school and his departure had changed the rhythm of the day. Eduardo, Caveman and Vince had decided to go out for their meal, and Trent was running an errand of his own.
“Sorry, I should have called to let you know he wouldn’t be here,” Emily apologized.
“That’s okay.”
They scrounged leftovers from the refrigerator and sat on the patio to eat.
“This is nice,” Alaina said when they were munching grapes for dessert.
“Yeah, just Mike-less.”
“Another day. He is going to notice me,” Alaina added darkly. T
hen she straightened. “We’ve got to find a nice guy for you, too.”
Emily made a face. “I’m not interested in a romantic relationship—I just got out of a bad one. I should have realized he wasn’t really in love with someone so ordinary.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Emily scolded herself. She was trying to avoid unfavorable comparisons to women such as Nicole, but sometimes it was hard not to feel inadequate.
“Don’t put yourself down,” Alaina ordered. “You’re very attractive.”
“It’s just that I grew up with a gorgeous sister who became a supermodel and sometimes struggle with a small inferiority complex,” Emily admitted. “On the other hand, I’ve always said that every well-adjusted woman needs at least one complex to keep her balanced. So this is mine.”
Most people didn’t get her sense of humor, but Alaina chuckled as she leaned back in her chair.
Alaina left and Emily went into the living room to eye the front windows. A bay window would look fantastic there.
When Trent came in, she wheeled enthusiastically toward him. “I have a terrific idea,” she exclaimed. “A bay window in the living room would add so much.”
* * *
A BAY WINDOW?
Trent stared at Emily, seriously annoyed. Now she wanted something like that? And she was making noises about other things she wanted, as well.
“That’s a big job,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.
“Yeah, but it would be great to have at Christmastime. I can see a huge decorated tree standing there. Can’t we add it to the estimate?”
“I could work up some figures, but—”
“Great. I’ll sketch out my idea for it. The room is just asking for that addition.”
Trent regarded her narrowly. Emily knew perfectly well he’d been trying to head her off. “Rooms don’t have minds of their own.”
“How do you know?”
“Everyone knows it,” he growled, regretting having said anything. She was a client, albeit one of the more irritating ones. Plenty of people added things midstream and a bay window was more doable than adding turrets or something.
On the other hand, with so much fanciful nonsense skidding through her brain, Emily was also less likely to listen to reason than other clients.
* * *
TRENT WENT INTO the Big Sky office on Tuesday morning before daybreak to sign off on a stack of paperwork. Acting as foreman five days a week was playing havoc with his responsibilities as owner of the company. Now he had to figure out how much a bay window in the living room would cost, and he had a doomed conviction this wasn’t the last time she’d make such a request. Didn’t the woman have any sense?
He wasn’t obligated to tack anything onto the current contract, but he wanted the job finished so he’d never have to think about the blasted place again, which made her request for new work all the more annoying.
It was 6:00 a.m. when Trent signed the last document. He passed Alaina on the way in from her car as he headed for his truck.
“Morning,” she said, seeming subdued, and he wondered if she wasn’t feeling well.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He wasn’t convinced, but who was he to guess at a woman’s moods?
After picking up doughnuts—the crew had announced they wanted to take turns because it wasn’t fair to let Emily always provide morning treats—he headed for Meadowlark Lane. He knocked to avoid the jarring sound of the doorbell. Quick, light steps sounded and Emily peeked through the curtain on the glass side panel before opening the door.
She was wearing an oversize brown bathrobe and had her hair up in a towel.
“You’re early,” she announced, then grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that was a problem. It’s just that I was at the Emporium late and overslept, so I’m not quite put together this morning. But the coffee should be done brewing.”
“You’re not obligated to make us coffee every day,” he pointed out. “It isn’t part of the contract.”
“Does it have to be?” she quipped, and Trent groaned to himself. Did that mean she wanted more things that weren’t in the contract...side benefits she didn’t have to pay to get?
“I’m making coffee for myself,” she added, “so why not make enough for everyone? Go get a cup.”
He started for the patio through the kitchen and the combination mud porch and utility room. Emily must have been taking laundry from the front-load washing machine when he arrived, because the appliance’s door stood open and the clothes were halfway between it and a basket, a red lace bra dangling over the side.
A sharp “oh” came from behind him and Emily rushed forward with a flushed face, hurriedly stuffing the damp clothing into the basket and hustling it away.
Trent shrugged. He hadn’t seen anything he hadn’t seen before. Emily’s New Age-ish tendencies seemed out of step with something so provocative, but he’d heard that women who weren’t geared for glamour often wished for it. And why shouldn’t she dress the way she wanted? Still, he would have expected... Well, he wasn’t sure what he would have expected. Nor was it any of his business.
While Emily had appeared embarrassed to have her lingerie on display, it could be because he was a man. Privacy was an issue that rose periodically on construction jobs when his crews worked on homes whose owners couldn’t vacate during their renovations.
He put the doughnuts beside the coffeepot and poured a cup. The bold flavor rolled across his tongue and he savored it before selecting an apple fritter from the pastry box and sitting on the rickety patio bench. It was a pain to admit, but Emily made the best java in town—even better than his sister’s.
Emily appeared around the corner of the house, her long wet hair pulled into a loose French braid.
“Sorry about the mess,” she said. “I meant to get everything put away before you arrived.”
“No need to apologize.”
She poured herself a cup of coffee, adding plenty of cream and sugar.
“What’s the point?” he surprised himself by asking. “I mean, if you’re going to cover up the coffee taste, why bother?”
“Are you a purist?”
“No, but it’s great the way it is.”
“Glad I could do something right.”
“I never said—”
She grinned. “Jeez, you have an easy chain to yank.”
He settled back on the bench. “I’m out of practice knowing when I’m being targeted.”
Trent pulled his face into emotionless lines as Emily cocked her head and studied him. Her perusal was unusually intent and she appeared ready to say something, then her mouth twitched and she concentrated on her coffee. He felt strangely disappointed, which was ridiculous; for years he’d worked to keep people from trying to get close to him. Light jokes and casual conversation were fine, but nothing else.
“What made you come to Montana?” he asked.
“I was here on vacation and fell in love with Schuyler,” she enthused. “As soon as I saw the Emporium was up for sale I made an offer. It’s weird because I don’t make impulsive decisions.”
Oh, really?
Trent gulped his coffee to keep from making a smart remark; she’d also purchased the house on Meadowlark Lane with impetuous speed.
Apparently Emily had read his mind, because she laughed. “It’s true. I’m usually careful and businesslike, on the big stuff. People call me the smart George sister, so everyone back in Los Angeles thinks I’ve gone nuts.”
The “smart” George sister? Seeing herself that way was vaguely arrogant, and Trent wondered if Emily’s sister resented being considered less intelligent.
“Do you think you’ll stay?” he asked. “We’ve had big-city folks who move to Montana for th
e fresh air, but it isn’t long until they’re desperate for their idea of civilization.”
“They can have it.” Emily’s voice was definite. “Commuting for an hour on a smoggy freeway isn’t civilized. Here it takes me just ten minutes to walk to my store, and that’s at a strolling pace.”
“There are other things that people enjoy about the city.”
“Sure, but they don’t mean much to me.” She studied him again. “Don’t you like it here? I mean, would you rather move somewhere larger?”
Trent frowned. “I never considered living any other place than Schuyler,” he said.
“Is that because this is where your family is?”
Emily’s questions bothered him. Why had he chosen to stay? Living in Montana made sense—the wide-open spaces appealed to him—but Schuyler held memories he’d rather forget. And in another town he wouldn’t have to confront the ghost of his father on every corner, or deal with the comparisons between Gavin and himself.
“Actually, I didn’t stay for any particular reason,” Trent admitted. “I began working for a construction company while in high school, and started my business a few years later.”
She still seemed puzzled, but the doorbell jangled, so she jumped up and went inside the house.
Trent was grateful for the reprieve. There was nothing unusual about Emily’s inquiries—it was the kind of thing people discussed while chatting—but she was the first person who’d ever asked him how he felt about Schuyler, Montana.
* * *
MIKE’S NERVES TIGHTENED when Alaina appeared carrying bags from the deli.
It was annoying to see her so often. He couldn’t get over her choosing to abandon a high-power career—perhaps because it reminded him of how his own career had ended.
The whole thing might be easier if he could blame someone else for what had happened that day, but he couldn’t. After the accident, sportscasters and sports writers had lauded him for his dedication to the game, saying he always put out a thousand percent. But Mike knew the truth—showing off for a woman was a lousy way to play baseball.
“Hi, guys,” Alaina said, barely flicking a look at him. “I’ve mooched meals here several times now, so it’s my turn to provide the food.”
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