Claire skidded to a stop beside them. “Oh. Hi, Brett. I hate to interrupt, but I need Hannah. We’ve been sent the wrong polar bears.”
Hannah frowned. “I confirmed the order last week. What did they send?”
“Instead of three large and two baby bears, we’ve been given six small bears.”
Brett lowered her legs to the floor, but kept his arm around her waist. “Does it matter?”
Hannah thought about where they would be placed. “If we move some of the pine trees behind them, it probably won’t.”
“There you go. I’ve earned two bowls of white chocolate in the space of five minutes.”
“You haven’t made the pine trees, yet.”
Brett shrugged. “A minor detail. Take me to your trees and before you know it, they’ll be ready.”
“I’ll show you where they are,” Claire said. “We left them in the delivery area.”
Brett looked at Hannah. “Do you still need to tell me something or can it wait until later?”
“It can wait. Come and find me when you’ve finished. The chocolate in the fountain should be melted by then.”
Claire read another text message before sliding her phone into her pocket. “Let’s go before someone else contacts me. I’ll be unpacking the polar bears if you need me, Hannah.”
“Okay.” Hannah took another silk bow out of the box and watched Brett leave the ballroom. She’d never wanted anything more than to be a full-time artist. Her degree, being a member of the Bozeman Art Collective, and even the workshops she ran with Claire—they were all part of who she was and why she needed to paint.
Brett didn’t fit into any plans she’d made. His home was in Montana and he’d never leave. If she moved to Vancouver, he would stay here, build his own future on the land he loved. A future that wouldn’t include her.
No matter which way she looked at it, staying in Bozeman would only lead to a broken heart. And between her mom and her dad, she’d endured enough heartbreak to last a lifetime.
***
Hannah looked at the rows of labeled switches in the fuse box. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Bob?”
The electrician she’d called raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been The Baxter Hotel’s electrical contractor for the past ten years. I can find every outlet, cable, and connector in the building. Fixing a blown fuse is a ten-minute job.”
Hannah didn’t point out that it had already been fifteen minutes and they still didn’t have any lights. And that didn’t count the hour she’d waited for him to arrive or the ten minutes it took to get down to the basement.
She peered over Bob’s shoulder, holding the flashlight higher. “Are there always so many fuse boxes?”
“It’s a big hotel. Each fuse box relates to a specific area.” He pointed to the box in front of him. “This one is for the grand ballroom.” He unscrewed a fuse and gave it to Hannah. “There’s your problem. I’ll have it replaced in under a minute.”
Bob took a new fuse out of his toolbox and inserted it into the cabinet.
If it worked, Hannah would be the happiest person in Bozeman.
He moved further along the basement wall. “I’ll turn on the main power switch. Cross your fingers that it works.”
Her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t afford any more time without lights.
“Just kidding.”
“It’s not funny,” she muttered.
Hannah blinked when the basement’s fluorescent lights flickered to life. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me too soon.”
Hannah’s cell phone beeped. She read the message and smiled. “The lights are on in the ballroom.”
“Looks as though I know a thing or two about changing fuses.”
“It does. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Bob.”
“Likewise. Make sure the hotel doesn’t charge you for the call-out. It’s part of their servicing agreement.”
Hannah didn’t care who paid the bill. She had lights in the grand ballroom and that’s all that mattered. She raced up the back stairs, only slowing when she pushed open the heavy wooden doors.
Claire hadn’t wasted any time. She had people up each of the ladders, finishing the last of the fairy light installations.
The hotel staff were bustling around the tables, placing crystal wine glasses and silver cutlery in front of each name tag. The pine trees had been sprayed with artificial snow, and the white chocolate fountain smelled delicious.
After a quick look at her watch, she found her sister under the gift table. “What are you doing?”
“The table wobbles. I’ve stuck a piece of cardboard under one of the legs. Can you give the table a shake?”
Hannah nudged the table. “It’s good. No wobble.”
Claire backed out from under the table. “How long before Mrs. Jenkins and Beverly arrive?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“It’s going to be close.”
“I know.” Hannah picked up her sister’s clipboard. “What’s left on our checklist?”
“Once the tables are set and the last lights are installed, we only have to sweep the floor. Luckily the blown fuse didn’t affect the sound system.”
Hannah walked toward one of the ladders. They’d wanted the ballroom clear of all workers when Margaret Jenkins arrived. If the room had been ready, they would have turned on the special lighting, played the music the bride and groom had chosen, and let Margaret experience what they’d been planning for the last three months.
“It still looks amazing,” Claire said from beside her.
“But not as good as it will look tomorrow afternoon.” She wished Brett was here to see what they had created. But he’d left two hours ago to spend time with Pat.
Hannah’s cell phone rang. She looked at the number and frowned. “I’ll just get this call.”
“I’ll start sweeping the floor,” Claire whispered.
Hannah nodded and answered the call. “Hi, Nick.”
“It is good to hear your voice, Hannah. I have been trying to contact Pat, but he is not answering his phone.”
“He’s spending most of his time at the hospital with Ida. I’m seeing Brett later. He could give Pat a message from you.”
“This is not a simple message.”
Hannah caught her breath. Nick’s voice was bubbling with excitement. “Is the painting from Pat’s attic a Bierstadt?”
“It is, my dear. My friend in New York City is in shock, as are her colleagues. Come to the gallery. I will give you a copy of her report to share with Pat.”
Hannah looked around the ballroom. “I can’t come to the gallery right now. Claire and I are meeting a client at The Baxter Hotel soon.”
“Come after you have finished.”
“I might not arrive until close to eight-thirty. Is that all right?”
“It does not matter,” Nick said. “I am getting ready for another exhibition, and like you, I will be working late.”
Hannah glanced at her sister. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for getting the painting authenticated.”
“It is my pleasure. I will see you when you arrive.”
Nick ended the call and all Hannah could do was stare at the phone. A Bierstadt. It was incredibly rare to find any unknown paintings by Bierstadt, let alone one that was in such excellent condition. If Pat and Ida wanted to sell the painting, they would end up with a small fortune.
Claire handed her a broom. “Are you all right? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll be okay for a long time. Nick Costas has heard back from his friend in New York City. She said the painting I found in Pat’s attic is by Albert Bierstadt.”
Claire rubbed her arm. “That’s amazing. Does Pat know?”
“Not yet. I think he must have switched off his phone. After we’ve finished here, I’ll stop at Nick’s gallery. He has a copy of the report and authentication certificate for
Pat.”
Claire lifted her broom off the floor. “In that case, we’d better keep sweeping. Margaret will be here soon, and two of the florists have finished hanging their baskets.”
Hannah walked to the far side of the room and started sweeping. With any luck, they’d have everything ready for Margaret’s grand reveal. After that, she’d call Brett and tell him about the painting. With any luck, the news would make Pat smile. Because right now, he needed all the good news he could find.
***
Brett parked his truck outside The Baxter Hotel. Hannah had called him an hour ago, and he’d offered to drive her to Nick’s gallery. Pat was speechless when Brett told him the painting in the attic was a Bierstadt. Even though the canvas resembled some of the images they’d found on the Internet, Pat had expected it to be a good imitation, not the real thing.
A noisy crowd of teenagers jostled along the sidewalk. Brett looked carefully to make sure Thomas and Dave weren’t in the group. Both boys had been so worried over the last few weeks that he doubted they’d want to party with their friends anytime soon.
It was another busy Friday night in downtown Bozeman. The bars and restaurants would be packed with cowboys, executives, and college students. He thanked his lucky stars that he was taking Hannah to Nick’s gallery. After spending half the day in the Intensive Care Unit, the last thing he needed was to be stuck in a room full of people.
The front doors of the hotel opened and Claire walked onto the sidewalk. “Hi, Brett. Hannah’s still upstairs.”
“Will you be all right going home on your own?”
She smiled and patted his arm. “You’re very thoughtful, but I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”
“You may be capable, but we don’t know if the police have found everyone involved in Dave’s assault.”
“They would have told us if they’d found anything to be worried about.” Claire lifted the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. “My truck is parked across the street. I’ll be fine.”
Brett stuck his hands into his pockets. Claire was as stubborn as her sister. “You might want to call Hannah when you get home.”
“We’ve already talked about that. Good luck at Nick’s gallery.”
“Thanks. I’m looking forward to seeing the report.”
“So is Hannah. I’ll see you later.” And with a quick glance along the sidewalk, she joined the people heading toward the crossing.
Brett stood outside the hotel while Claire walked to her truck. With the roads packed bumper-to-bumper with traffic, the least he could do was make sure she made it safely to her vehicle.
She waved at him before opening the driver’s door and he waved back. With Claire safely on her way home, he headed into the hotel.
He smiled at the fairy-tale entrance. Snow-covered pine trees sheltered the carriage he’d spent more than an hour decorating. Fairy lights wrapped around the white canopy creating a ride fit for a prince and princess.
He climbed the stairs, running his hand along the tulle-wrapped rail. Earlier in the day, he saw the drawings of what the hotel would look like after it had been decorated. But nothing could have prepared him for the sheer beauty of what they’d created. He couldn’t imagine anyone else being able to take a theme and immerse the guests so quickly into their imagination.
With a firm tug, he opened the doors to the main ballroom.
He froze, stunned by what he saw. Soft blue light filled the entire room. The fabric on the ceiling and walls rippled gently, cascading into pools of electric blue light. He stepped forward, enchanted by the sheer beauty of the room.
His gaze lifted from the tables to the chandeliers, then to the huge floral arrangements that could have been suspended in the air by magic. He took a deep breath and listened to the music drifting across the room. The notes of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major washed over him, releasing the tension in his shoulders. His chest expanded, and he felt the energy that had gone into making this room perfect.
“What do you think?” Hannah whispered from beside him.
He looked at her and wished he could hold onto this moment forever. Hannah’s head was tilted toward the ceiling and her mouth formed the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.
“It’s beautiful.” When the music changed to Johann Strauss’ Blue Danube, he held out his hand. “Shall we dance?”
The surprise in Hannah’s eyes melted his heart.
“You can waltz as well as two-step?”
“Ida taught me.”
With a shyness he hadn’t expected, Hannah looked at him and nodded.
He held her hand as they walked toward the dance floor. As the first notes deepened, he gently swung Hannah into his arms, stepping into a slow Viennese Waltz. Under the light from the chandeliers, they spun to the right, then to the left. The music built and they turned again, moving faster and faster, until all that was left was the magic of the dance and the promise of what could be.
He knew then that, whatever happened, Hannah would always have a special place in his heart. And, no matter what, he would find a way to make sense of where they were heading.
As the music slowed, he held her tight, turning her slowly until they stopped beneath a canopy of roses. He dropped his head to her forehead, wondering what would come next.
Hannah rubbed her cheek against his. “That was wonderful.”
The air between them crackled with electricity. Brett’s pulse thundered through his body, leaving him breathless, needy, and so much more.
He wrapped his arms around Hannah, holding her against him, slowly moving to the next song. “We need to talk. About us.”
Her sigh drifted along his skin, sent shivers skittering along his spine.
“I know.” She kissed him gently on the mouth, then stepped away. “Before you say anything, I have something to tell you.”
Brett frowned. Whatever Hannah was about to say was upsetting her. Her blue eyes were wide with worry and directed straight at him.
“I’m going to Vancouver next week to speak to the staff at the college.”
He flinched. Knowing that Hannah could be leaving was a lot different than hearing her say the words.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“You’re still…” He cleared his throat, pushing down the disappointment that was threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re still thinking about accepting the residency?”
Hannah nodded. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
He stepped forward, holding the side of her face in his hand. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I haven’t told you how I feel because I wanted you to do what’s best for you. But if I don’t tell you that I love you, I might never get the chance. I don’t want you to leave Bozeman, but if that’s what you really want, we could find a way to make it work.”
Tears filled Hannah’s eyes. “It’s not just the residency. I don’t know what will happen after I leave Vancouver. I can’t promise that I’ll be back.”
The hope that had filled Brett’s heart disappeared. Hannah was saying goodbye, and it hurt worse than he thought it would. “My life is here. Pat and Ida need me more than ever.”
“I know.”
“I can’t leave Bozeman for months on end.”
Hannah wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner. I really do care about you, Brett.”
He took a deep breath and looked around the room. He’d never envied anyone as much as he envied the couple who were getting married tomorrow. They’d each found their soul mate, the person they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with.
Even imagining he could love someone that much had been as foreign to Brett as flying to Mars. But, somehow, he’d fallen head-over-heels for Hannah Williams. She was everything he never thought he’d find and everything he needed.
Being here, in a room decorated to celebrate two people’s love and commitment to each other felt wrong. He had to leave, forget about any future he might have
had with Hannah, and learn to live without her.
He pulled up the zipper on his jacket and moved toward the doors. “We’d better drive to Nick’s gallery. It’s getting late.”
“I could ask Claire to drive me there.”
Brett was tempted to let her call her sister, but it was late, and Claire would almost be home by now. He swallowed the pain that was breaking his heart in two. “It’s not worth her coming all the way back. Besides, I told Pat I’d take a copy of the report to the hospital.”
Hannah looked at him uncertainly. “I need to turn off the lights and music.”
“I’ll wait for you at the top of the stairs.” And before she could see the tears in his eyes, he left the ballroom.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nick unlocked the gallery’s front door. “Come in. I have hot coffee waiting in the kitchen.”
Hannah looked at Brett.
He waved her inside.
The knot in the pit of her stomach hadn’t gotten any better. They’d left The Baxter Hotel in silence, barely looking at each other as they’d made their way to his truck.
She couldn’t blame Brett for keeping his distance. She knew how hard it must have been to tell her he loved her. But she needed to at least try to make a name for herself as an artist. This time, she’d followed her head and not her heart. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision to go to Vancouver.
Nick walked into the spacious kitchen at the back of the gallery. “Liliana and her team worked very hard to bring you an answer so quickly. Part of that was due to the quality of the painting. Creme and sugar?”
Hannah pulled her gaze off the wall opposite them. “Just creme for me, please.”
Brett took off his jacket and left it on the large stainless steel counter. “Creme and two sugars for me, thanks.”
“You have a sweet tooth?” Nick asked.
Heat hit Brett’s cheeks. “Sometimes.”
“I have a special cookie that you will enjoy.” Nick took a round, metal container out of a cupboard. “These are called kourabiedes. They are Greek butter cookies that my granddaughter, Mia, baked. Try them. They are perfect with a strong cup of Greek coffee.”
The Gift (The Protectors Book 6) Page 19