“Hear that, Trent?” Vince called. “I like this gig more and more. We get Emily as a helper, and lunch shows up on our doorstep when we least expect it.”
Trent walked into the bare kitchen. “Don’t give me the credit,” he replied, “and don’t brag to the other crews, or they might go on strike.”
“I heard that,” Emily said. “If you’ve got labor problems, handle them yourself.”
“I thought I just did.”
Though the exchange sounded light, there was an underlying edge to the way they talked to each other and Mike figured it was his friend’s fault. Emily had a friendly nature.
But why was he having trouble getting a second date with her? He thought they’d had a good time, but while she was friendly and appeared to like him, the subject always seemed to shift when he started to ask her out again. It was difficult to believe she was brushing him off, so it must be something else—maybe the craziness of having her house pulled apart.
“Is the patio still the dining hall?” Alaina asked Emily.
“Yep,” Emily replied.
“Here.” Alaina handed Mike the bags. “Take these out to the patio. I need to get the rest of our dinner from the car.”
The way she’d said dinner instead of lunch made him think of the bachelor auction, and from the look in her eyes, he was pretty sure it had been deliberate. She hadn’t given up, but neither had he. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d become a bachelor for sale.
* * *
EMILY FINISHED HER sandwich and watched Alaina and Mike trade sharp retorts. Whether he realized it or not, Mike was as attracted to Alaina as she was to him. But they’d have to get past a boatload of hostility before anything could happen.
As for Trent... Emily was trying to ignore him. He was handsome, but she didn’t actually like the guy, and it was depressing to be reminded that sexual attraction obviously had little to do with the meeting of like minds.
It didn’t help that she’d seen him eyeing her bra in the laundry basket and had been hit by a sense of vulnerability...except vulnerable wasn’t the right word. No guy had ever seen her lingerie except Dennis, and he’d claimed Victoria’s Secret–style bras and panties didn’t really suit her, which should have made her know he wasn’t overly hot for his fiancée.
Alaina had left and the crew had settled back to work when the doorbell rang. Emily recognized Bob Webber, the previous owner...and the landlord when Trent had lived in Wild Rose Cottage.
“Howdy, Ms. George,” Webber said. “How are the renovations going?”
“They’re still deconstructing,” she said, at the same time wondering about the “howdy.” Was that something people actually said outside of a 1940s Western, or did it simply sound phony coming from him?
“Would you mind giving me a tour?” he asked. “I’ve been anxious to see what’s being done with the old place.”
Emily hesitated. In the city she would never let him into her home. Maybe she was just tuning into Trent’s dislike for Webber, but the guy made her uncomfortable. Still, she wasn’t used to small towns and it was probably the custom to be hospitable and let him satisfy his curiosity. Besides, the Big Sky crew was there, so she wasn’t alone in the house.
“I guess,” she said. Standing aside, she waited as he walked inside.
“I’m going for a more open concept,” she explained in the dining room.
His sharp gaze examined the wall that had been stripped down to its support beams.
“Any other walls coming down?” he asked.
Emily shrugged and decided she didn’t want Bob Webber to know her business. “I haven’t decided.”
He strode forward without letting her decide what to show him and she was hit with a wave of distaste, especially when he tried to enter her bedroom. She grabbed the door handle and held it.
“Not in there,” she said. “That is private space and nothing’s been done in there.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t disturb anything. I just want to see everything.”
Trent suddenly appeared and put himself between Webber and the door. “It’s the lady’s choice. This house no longer belongs to you.”
An ugly expression crossed Webber’s face, then his features became congenial once more. “My apologies, Ms. George. I wasn’t thinking.”
Trent scowled and returned to the living room.
Emily was caught between being grateful and aggravated.
Emily led Webber through the rest of the bottom floor, but stopped him from going upstairs.
“All the work is currently on the ground floor,” she said firmly, “so there’s nothing to see.”
“Sure, sure. I appreciate your indulging my curiosity.”
She was glad to see him go, though she figured he’d probably be back. It was hard to believe that curiosity was his sole motivation. There was something off about Webber. Trent Hawkins was annoying and hard to get along with, but he wasn’t creepy.
All the same, she didn’t plan on answering the door if she was home alone and Webber showed up again.
* * *
FURIOUS WITH HIMSELF, Trent finished jerking out the rotten wood on the window frame. He’d wanted to plant a fist in Bob Webber’s stomach, an impulse he despised. He knew that children who’d grown up with violence sometimes responded in kind when they became adults; it was one of the reasons he worked so hard to control his temper.
Suddenly aware that Emily had come back into the living room, he stopped and glanced at her.
“Um, I don’t know the customs in Montana,” she said, “but I kind of like handling things on my own. It was nice of you to try to head off Mr. Webber, but he needs to understand that I’m in charge of my house.”
Humor rumbled in Trent’s belly.
And amazement.
As a child he’d done his best to protect his mother, who’d been passive in the face of her husband’s rages. Yet as time had gone by and the damage inflicted on both of them had gotten worse, a tiny corner of his brain had grown angry at her. Fiona had never tried to change things, never tried to protect her children and never told Gavin Hawkins to go to hell. If she had, she might be alive today.
Through the years a few women had tried to capitalize on his instinctive urge to rush to the rescue, but however flaky Emily might be, she was telling him to back off. Of course, some people were independent for small stuff and ran for cover when things got serious, but he wouldn’t be part of Emily’s life, so it didn’t matter.
“Understood,” he told her.
“Great. I’m not the type for knights in shining armor.” She gestured to the wall. “I’m going to start scraping wallpaper in here. It’s hideous.”
Trent let out a careful breath. “The first layer shouldn’t be too bad. It’s self-stick and already peeling, but the stuff underneath may have to be steamed off.”
At least she’d be working on the walls while he was readily available. If any of his old patches failed, he’d rush to the “rescue,” no matter what she said.
Cheerfully, Emily carried a ladder in and climbed to the top level. As she reached for the paper and pulled, he noted how gracefully she moved. Suddenly he had a vision of how she’d look wearing that sexy scrap of red lingerie.
The image kicked him in the gut.
He’d been trying not to pay attention, but there was no denying that Emily had an extremely nice figure under her haphazard clothing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BY THE END of the week, Emily felt even worse for her new friend. Alaina had visited Wild Rose Cottage on both Wednesday and Thursday and Mike had ignored her both times. Now it was Friday, and Alaina was ignoring him.
“I just came by to ask you to a barbecue on Sunday,” Alaina told her.
A barbecue?
Pleasant images rose in Emily’s imagination. She’d never been to a real Western barbecue, just catered events in Los Angeles that pretended to be Western ho-downs. “That sounds fun. Where will it be?”
“At my folks’ spread, the ‘historic McGregor Family Ranch,’” Alaina intoned impressively and then laughed.
“Do they live in the original house?”
“No, the first McGregors decided they didn’t like the original location and built a new place just nine years after settling in Montana. But part of the current house dates from the 1880s.”
Emily was excited. She’d never been to a living breathing ranch.
“It’s amazing to have that kind of history right at your fingertips,” she said.
“Yeah, except when the teacher at school uses your family to illustrate a Montana State history lesson,” Alaina returned wryly. “Anyhow, the barbecue is for Mom’s birthday. But no gifts! I meant to invite you before and forgot.”
Emily hesitated. “I shouldn’t intrude on a family gathering.”
“We’ll also have lots of friends and neighbors and Mom will be thrilled if you come. She’s crazy about you.” Alaina winked. “She says you’re an asset to the community. A real gem.”
Warmth went through Emily. She’d never gotten unqualified support in her life, and it was lovely to encounter it unexpectedly.
“Okay, I’d love to attend.”
Just then Trent came through the hallway with a load of lumber balanced on his shoulder. Along with the new bay window, it turned out that every downstairs window frame needed to be replaced due to rot and other damage. The ones on the second and third floors were probably just as bad, but she was trying not to think about it. Luckily Trent was considered tops in historic restoration, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem getting everything to look right.
If they ever finished. Admittedly, she’d come up with several extra projects. It was making things even tenser around Trent, even though she’d said she understood if they had to come back later to do them.
“Hey, Trent,” Alaina said. “Emily is coming to Mom’s party. Isn’t that terrific?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.”
While he nodded politely, Emily suspected he wasn’t pleased. He continued into the living room where he’d set up various pieces of woodworking equipment. The window frames had to be custom made and it was slow, tedious work. Still, she was impressed with how patient he could be...when it came to construction.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” she murmured, glancing into the other room and seeing how grim he looked.
“Don’t be silly,” Alaina whispered back. “Trent likes to keep work and social relationships separate, but you’re my friend and I have the right to ask whoever I want. Besides, I work for him and I’ll be there.”
Quietly they moved out to the patio.
“Are you sure?” Emily said. “He seemed to tense up when you told him I was coming.”
Alaina made a wry face. “That’s just Trent being Trent. I love my brother, but he’s hard to understand. Mom and Dad worry because he’s so withdrawn and solitary. Do you suppose it’s because our folks died and they adopted us? I mean, I think of my aunt and uncle as Mom and Dad, but I doubt he does.”
“Well, he remembers your folks, and you don’t, so maybe it feels disloyal to think of someone else as his parents,” Emily said slowly. She was trying to envision Trent Hawkins as a child, without much luck.
“But Mom and Dad are terrific.”
“I suppose experiences affect people in different ways.”
“I guess.” Alaina looked at her cell phone. “It’s late. I’d better get back to the office.”
She marched past Mike in the kitchen without a word and Emily decided if she ever got stupid enough to reconsider her stance on romance, she should remember what Alaina was going through. The woman was dazzling and still couldn’t get Mike to notice her.
Sighing, Emily went back to work on the wallpaper. Once in a while she glanced at Trent, who was concentrating on the window frame he was crafting.
“The frames look great,” she ventured when he’d stopped the table saw for a moment.
“I could still order modern, double-paned windows. They’d insulate better.”
“Except they wouldn’t look as good with wild roses climbing around them,” she retorted.
“I suppose you think the house wouldn’t ‘like’ modern windows...you know, the kind that save money and make everything more comfortable.”
His mocking tone put Emily’s teeth on edge. She didn’t mind the crew’s gentle amusement about her ideas, but Trent’s scorn was the same as pouring itching powder on her nerves. Besides, while installing double-paned windows with vinyl frames might be the “sensible” choice, it didn’t fit the vintage appeal of Wild Rose Cottage. At any rate, it was her decision and she was paying for the privilege, so why was he so negative?
She almost snorted. People had described Trent as ornery, and they hadn’t been exaggerating.
* * *
ON SUNDAY TRENT reluctantly headed for the McGregor ranch shortly before noon. His first choice would have been to ditch the birthday barbecue, but it would have hurt Aunt Sarah’s feelings.
Sarah’s father was the first guest he saw.
“Good afternoon,” he said. Since his mother had been Uncle Parker’s sister, he had no genetic relationship to Walt Nelson. Alaina called him Grandpa Walt, but Trent usually managed to avoid using a title of any kind.
“Afternoon, Trent. Your crew came out and fixed my chimney last week.”
“That’s good.”
Walt narrowed his eyes at him. “I asked for a bill and they said to check with the office. Now Alaina tells me she can’t find it.”
“Guess you lucked out.”
“I don’t need any gifts.”
“Walt, they were there for less than thirty minutes. Check with me when they’re needed for over an hour.”
Walt glared, and Trent went into the backyard to say hello to Aunt Sarah, who hugged him and scolded when he placed a gift in her hands.
“I have everything I need,” she told him. “Well, almost everything, but what I really want can’t be wrapped in paper.”
He knew what she was referring to: grandchildren.
“I’ll leave that to Jackson,” Trent told her. His cousin’s recent marriage to a former high school sweetheart had brought two grandchildren into the fold. Since Jackson already had a daughter, Morgan, it had tripled Sarah’s blessings, as she called them.
“Humph,” she grumbled. “You’re all too stubborn.”
Trent stayed with her until one of his great-aunts arrived, then headed to the barbecue grill. If he couldn’t stay away, he’d stay busy. It didn’t work; he got chased off by Uncle Parker. So he donned his swim trunks and dove into the pool.
* * *
EMILY SWUNG BY the market deli early in the afternoon and bought broccoli salad to contribute to Sarah McGregor’s birthday celebration. When pressed, Alaina had admitted that the party was partly potluck, but insisted Emily shouldn’t bring anything.
“Poppycock,” Emily had retorted. “Bringing something is part of the fun.”
It had been a relief to shed jeans and T-shirts for the day and wear a soft blouse and skirt with sandals. Since there was a pool, Alaina had told her to bring a swimsuit, so it had gone into the trunk with an outrageously colored beach towel.
Parking in front of the large ranch house, Emily saw a bunch of vehicles were already under the trees. Alaina must have been watching, because she met her halfway to the house.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you around.”
Leaving the salad with the housekeeper, Emily followed Alaina into the backyard.
Sarah McGreg
or hurried over and hugged her. “I’m so glad you came,” the older woman enthused.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you. I didn’t realize what house you’d bought until Alaina told me, and now Trent is fixing it up. That makes you one of the family.”
Emily was sure that Trent wouldn’t agree, but decided not to worry about him. And she succeeded until she saw him bare-chested, wearing his swim trunks.
Whoa.
He was trim, muscled and thoroughly male.
She ordered herself to look away—she refused to turn into one of those unwanted women who leered at sexy men.
Alaina seemed determined to introduce her to everyone and the names and faces began to blur. Luckily she’d already met some of them around town.
Madison, Alaina’s sister, had recently moved to Seattle and hadn’t been able to make it back. But another sibling had arrived unexpectedly and he jumped up to give Alaina a hug. Josh was the foreman at a ranch down in Texas.
“Texas?” Emily asked when they were alone again. Considering the McGregor and Nelson ranching tradition in the Schuyler area, it seemed odd that he was working so far away.
“It’s complicated. Josh is waiting for Mom’s father to retire and give him the ranch,” Alaina explained. “It was decided a long time ago that he’s to get the Nelson spread, but Grandpa Walt can’t seem to let go. Grandma and Grandpa Nelson are over there.” She motioned toward an older couple.
“I met Mrs. Nelson when she came into my store a few weeks ago, but I didn’t realize she was Sarah’s mother.”
“Yup. I’m sure there are too many McGregors here for Grandpa Walt’s taste,” Alaina whispered mischievously. “Not me, of course. I don’t have any Nelson blood, but he’s forgiven me for that shortcoming.”
“I understand the Parkers and Nelsons used to be ranching rivals.”
“That’s right. Then Mom and Dad got married and it all had to end. Now they compete by playing horseshoes. I think Grandpa Walt is up by two games.”
It sounded fun, but Emily didn’t have a chance to ask for details before she was introduced to Alaina’s brother Jackson and his wife, Kayla. They were the son and daughter-in-law Sarah had shopped for at the Emporium. It was almost depressing to see the attractive couple. Was everyone in Montana that happy and good-looking? Well, all except Mike Carlisle—he didn’t seem happy, though he got more than his share of points in the looks department.
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