“I would love to say yes.” Chelsea spoke quickly, before Dylan could declare her a bank robber, as well. She understood his prior response, but she needed this to happen. “If you feel the same after reviewing my résumé and references. If not, we’ll just agree this isn’t the right fit.”
“Sounds like a deal to me,” Gavin said. “Dylan?”
“Not my call, but that...ah...seems reasonable.”
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s see your résumé,” Haley said as she stood. “Because the sooner we get this settled, the sooner I can show you to your bedrooms!”
This was really happening. A job and a home—Chelsea looked over to the fireplace’s mantel, to the framed photographs, and a sense of belonging, of family, filled her heart. Nope, not her family, but maybe this job, here with Gavin and Haley, would help her in far greater measures than any other job ever would. Maybe fate had a hand in this, after all.
“Chelsea?” Dylan’s voice pulled her back to the present, to him. “What bag is your résumé in? I’ll go out to the car and grab it for you.”
“Oh. Um.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused on Dylan. He looked better now. Not nearly as stressed. Maybe he’d already gotten over his qualms? She hoped so. “It’s in the outside pocket of the purple suitcase. The upright. In a file folder. But I can get it.”
“Nah, stay here and chat with Gavin and Haley. Find out more about the job.”
She nodded and watched as he left the room. If she was here due to fate, then Dylan stood in the center of it all. Because none of this would have happened without him. He’d found her in her car. He’d offered her and Henry a safe haven for the night. He’d convinced her to come here today. He’d tried to lend her money, not once but twice. And he... Oh. Wow.
Last night, he’d offered to talk to his family about scrounging up some temporary work she could do for them. He’d even brought up the possibility of finding somewhere better than a cheap motel for Henry and her to sleep. She’d said no, firmly and decisively, yet suddenly, this perfect job offer from his sister presented itself, which miraculously included room and board.
Chelsea’s heart dropped. She should’ve clued in to this immediately.
Dylan and his Good Samaritan nature had orchestrated this entire thing. This had to be his doing...except, well, he’d truly seemed uncomfortable when Haley had mentioned the opportunity, and his reaction had definitely fallen on the bizarre side. Was that a show, put on for her benefit? Chelsea didn’t know, couldn’t know, for sure, but...darn it, that seemed more likely than fate bringing her here, to him and to this house, to this job.
Fate had never been so kind to her before, so why in the hell would it start now?
She didn’t need charity. Well, maybe in this exact moment she did, but she didn’t want it and she didn’t see how she could accept. Unless...she just went along with it, for now. She’d do the best job she could, more than enough to prove her worth—because she really believed Gavin and Haley were planning on hiring someone—and when the gig ended, she’d move on.
By then, she’d be in a stronger position financially, would likely have located a place for her and Henry to call home, and hopefully, permanent employment, as well.
Maybe Foster kindness had brought her this opportunity, but she’d make damn sure that when all was said and done, she’d earned her pay and her keep. It wouldn’t feel like charity then, to her or to Gavin and Haley. No one else mattered in the equation.
As far as Dylan Foster went, however, she now knew enough to keep him at a long arm’s distance. His presence alone made her want to believe in something more than she’d ever had, and his arguments about trusting in the kindness of others made her want to believe in him.
Dangerous ground to step onto with anyone. Scary, too. But with a man who only saw her as a problem requiring a solution? Impossible.
Settled with both of her decisions, she nodded at Gavin and Haley. “While we’re waiting, why don’t you tell me more about the camp? And what you’re looking for in the way of help? If this ends up working out, I promise you won’t regret giving me this chance.”
* * *
This was not what he’d wanted. Well. Okay, it was what he’d wanted as far as some of the particulars went. Dylan should feel pleased with the turn of events. Chelsea was set for the time being. She had the breathing room required to get her to a better place, even if she moved on after Gavin and Haley returned from their honeymoon.
But he hadn’t wanted Chelsea to be ensconced in his sister’s home. Not because he thought she was a thief, as he’d stupidly blurted. The truth was, when his sister had offered the job, every last thing he didn’t know about Chelsea came into sharp, blaring focus.
Such as, what was the job she’d lost, and why had she lost it? Where had Chelsea and Henry called home before leaving everything behind to come here? Why had she made that choice? And, yeah, where was Henry’s father? Or her family? Or...anyone?
Now it infuriated him even more that he’d asked her, directly, several of those very same questions and she’d refused to answer. She hadn’t even bothered giving him pat replies.
Dylan popped open the trunk of his car, questions slamming into his brain one after another. Seeing the purple suitcase, he unzipped the side pocket and retrieved the file folder. He didn’t think if he should or he shouldn’t, just opened the file folder to read her résumé.
Pueblo, Colorado. That was her home. And her most recent position had been as a waitress at a diner, where she’d worked for close to a year. Before that, she’d had a short stint—less than six months—with a temporary employment agency and before that as a customer service operator at an insurance company. That one she’d had for slightly over two years, but the job had been eliminated due to the company going the way of technology and choosing to use an automated telephone service rather than actual human beings.
And before that, it appeared as if she’d worked part-time while going to school part-time. He had to guess, based on the dates shown and Henry’s age, that her pregnancy with him had halted her ability to continue college. Dylan felt bad. Really bad, actually, because on this résumé, he saw a woman who had struggled to find her way.
So, okay. Chances were high that she’d come to Steamboat Springs for exactly the reason he’d heard—a brand-new fresh start—but that didn’t answer all of his other questions. And the knowledge gained from reading her résumé didn’t lessen his reborn uneasiness.
Now that Chelsea would be so damn close to his family, to him, he couldn’t ignore his disquiet. He couldn’t step away and let distance work its magic, nor could he entertain the idea of seeing where his interest in her might lead. Not while she lived with his sister, at any rate. Not without knowing what she was made of. Because, if for some reason, she had an agenda unknown to him or, hell, secrets that could be damaging to those near her, the fallout could affect his family. And that was something he could not, would not, allow.
He cursed loudly and slammed the trunk shut. Idiotic to allow a woman to crawl into his life and past his defenses once again. At least with Elise, he’d known her history. He’d known her family. He understood what demons had haunted her. None of that excused her eventual behavior or his inability to clue in and see what was really happening, but he couldn’t say he’d gone in completely blind, either. His heart had led, not his brain.
Dylan strode toward the house with a new goal in mind. One way or another, he’d get his questions answered, and he’d do so without being swayed by Chelsea’s various charms. Not her depths-of-the-ocean blue eyes that seemed to hold, all at once, sadness and fear and hope. Not the sultry yet somehow sweet quality to her voice. Not the adorable way she’d lift her chin in mule-headed stubbornness. And no, not even her too-smart-for-his-age, cuter-than-cute kid.
This time he’d lead with his brain, and his heart could just shut the hell up.
Chapter Seven
“Ready for breakfast?”
Chelsea asked Henry the next morning. They were in his new bedroom, complete with two bunk beds, which had thrilled Henry. He’d almost been beside himself with the realization that he had four beds to choose from and that he could select a different bed each and every night if he so chose.
Even better to his four-year-old mind was the dresser drawer full of flashlights. Gavin had explained that, as a child, he’d hated the first few nights in a new foster home. He hadn’t known his surroundings, so that made it difficult if he had to find the bathroom in the dark. Therefore, with that memory firmly in place, he’d stocked flashlights in each of the two bedrooms the campers would stay in while they bunked at the house.
It was, Chelsea thought, a sad tale with a sweet ending.
“Can’t I just stay in here and play?” Henry asked, looking up from the various toy trucks and cars he’d brought to the center of the room. In addition to the flashlights and bunk beds, the room housed two large toy boxes and a tall bookshelf, both of which looked to be handmade and both filled to capacity. “I’m not hungry yet and this is more fun than breakfast!”
There were plenty of valid reasons to insist Henry follow her downstairs, but he’d been pulled and tugged in so many directions lately, she just didn’t have the heart. Let him play. Breakfast could wait. “Sure,” she said. “Keep having fun, sweetie, and I’ll come get you in an hour. Or if you decide you’re ready to eat before then, come downstairs and find me.”
“Okay, Mommy. Thanks!” He returned his attention to the pileup and, selecting a toy police car, rolled it forward and said in a booming voice, “You’re under arrest! No one move!”
She grinned and left the room. As she walked toward the stairs, she heard Henry mimicking the sound of a police siren as, she guessed, the cop car gave chase. It was wonderful, experiencing her son’s childhood elation and being relaxed enough to enjoy the moment.
The job offer had become definite once Haley and Gavin had looked over her résumé. Oh, she was sure that her employment history wasn’t a perfect match to what they required, but they must have decided she was, at the very least, trainable. And her reference letters were good enough to satisfy both of them, though she assumed either Gavin or Haley would follow up with phone calls or emails within the next few days. She wasn’t concerned, though.
She’d earned the positive remarks in those reference letters by working hard, keeping her head down and being as reliable as possible with a small child.
So long as nothing wacky occurred, she was set.
Downstairs now, Chelsea found Haley in the kitchen. The woman was sitting at the long rectangular table sipping orange juice. In front of her was a container of yogurt, a half-eaten bowl of cereal and a spread-open notebook with a mile-long handwritten list she seemed to be reading. Her hair—the same reddish-brown shade as Dylan’s—was bunched in a loose knot on top of her head, with long, wavy strands framing her face. Gavin was nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning,” Chelsea said as she approached the table. She spied the full pot of coffee on the counter and wondered if she was free to serve herself. No. Better wait until the rules were established. Instead, she took a chair across from Haley. “Henry is too enamored with the array of toys in his room to be bothered with breakfast just yet. But don’t worry. He’ll let me know when he’s hungry, and I’m ready to start work whenever you are.”
“Wow, that’s quite the speech,” Haley said with a welcoming smile. “And good morning to you.” She put down her orange juice and with the same hand gestured toward the fridge. “This is your home now, so help yourself to whatever you’d like. And I’m glad Henry’s having such a good time, but no worries. You’re not on the clock today.”
“Ah...what do you mean I’m not on the clock?” Suddenly, Chelsea wasn’t as sure about being set as she had been a few seconds ago. “It’s Monday. I assumed you’d want to get started.”
“And that would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Haley swirled her spoon in the yogurt. “We’re so behind schedule that Gavin and I thought it best to hold off on training until we’re more caught up. Our goal is to be ready for you by next week. We thought, to make it easier with Henry, we’d try four to five hours a day, Monday through Friday. So twenty to twenty-five hours each week. Does that sound good for you?”
“Yeah. That’s great.” Ready for her? “Is there a problem I should be concerned with?”
“Oh, no! It’s nothing like that. We just finished the winter season, here at the camp and at my family’s businesses, so there’s a ton to do before we can move on to preparing for summer. Paperwork, mostly. Inventory. Some marketing I have to deal with, updating the various websites and such.” Haley tapped her finger on the notebook. “A few repairs on our property—that’s where Gavin’s at now, and...well, there’s just a lot.”
“I can help. I’m here now, why not put me to use?”
“Again, that would seem to make sense, wouldn’t it?” Haley sighed. “The truth is, it will be quicker for us to dredge through what needs to be done and then focus our attention on setting up for summer. That’s where you’ll come in. Easier to train you from point A rather than from somewhere toward the end, which is where we’re at now. Please, please don’t take any of this the wrong way. We really are thrilled you’re here! We’re just a little unprepared.”
“No, no. I get it.” And she did. But she couldn’t sit around for a full week and pretend she was on vacation. That would make her feel as if she and Henry were charity cases, which was not the way she wanted this endeavor to begin. “How about this? Until you’re ready, I can help with some of the household chores. Cooking, cleaning, laundry? Does that sound fair?”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I mean, if you feel like cooking one night, I won’t argue, but we didn’t hire you to be our maid. Clean up after yourself and Henry, and we’ll be good. Besides,” Haley said with a mischievous grin, “Dylan has decided to show you and Henry around Steamboat Springs. He should be here any minute now, actually.”
Butterflies. Again. At the merest mention of Dylan.
“No, that isn’t necessary! I can stay busy and Henry loves his room and there’s absolutely no reason for Dylan to go out of his way or...” Talk slower, Chelsea ordered herself. She inhaled a calming breath. “That is, I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Why, you’re blushing!” The green in Haley’s eyes darkened with curiosity. “That’s cute...and interesting. My brother, however, doesn’t seem to think you’re a bother. This was his idea, and he was quite determined when he called this morning. Insistent, even.” Haley’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “And now that I think about it, that’s interesting, too.”
“I just don’t understand why he’d... Doesn’t he have as much to do as you and Gavin? At the restaurant, I mean, with end-of-the-season responsibilities and such?”
“Oh, he does. Which is another interesting point, isn’t it? Is it possible that he’s...?” She paused, shook her head. Gnawed on her lip for a few seconds. Then, as if she’d reached some decision unknown to Chelsea, Haley bestowed her with a huge grin. “Don’t worry about Dylan. I’m sure he’s worked out his schedule to everyone’s satisfaction. And once I told him you were free until next Monday, he started making plans for the whole week. You should be plenty busy.”
The week? As in seven days? Great. Just freaking great.
And she, apparently, had no say in the matter. How was she to keep Dylan a long arm’s distance away, and her unwanted reactions toward him at a minimum, if he had declared himself to be her tour guide for an entire week? No. There had to be a way out.
Trying again, she said, “That’s nice. Really nice. But I’d rather stay here and help however I can. Maybe you’ll come up with something I can do. Something you’re not even thinking of right now. The wedding plans! I can help with those.” Haley watched her with that same steady gaze she’d already experienced time and again with Dylan. “Even if my official job doesn’t start until next week, you’re still g
iving me and my son room and board. Right?”
“Which you’ll more than earn,” Haley said matter-of-factly. “Beginning next Monday. And while I might ask for your opinion here and there as we finalize the very simple wedding details, you should take this week to relax. Let Dylan show you around.”
“But—”
“You can do as you choose, obviously,” Haley said. “But Dylan really wants to do this, and honestly? This isn’t like him, being so dead-set on anything. Not since he—” Haley blew out a breath. “I would consider it a huge favor if you went along. At least for today, if not the week.”
Chelsea took stock of the other woman. A favor, huh? For her new employer? “Okay, then,” she said, giving in. Again. This was becoming a habit where Dylan was concerned. “I guess I should get ready.”
“Probably a good idea. He said he was on his way almost twenty—” She broke off at the unmistakable sound of a car door slamming shut. Another grin lit her face. “And that would be him now. He’ll probably come in through the back, so—”
“Henry needs to get dressed. And he needs to eat something,” Chelsea said, jumping to her feet. She wasn’t prepared to see Dylan just yet. First she had to calm down and come up with a new strategy. Oh, and get rid of the damn butterflies that had decided to make her stomach their home. “And...um...I should change into something more appropriate for sightseeing.”
“I can see why you might want to do just that,” Haley said, laughter leaking into her voice. “Since we all know that jeans are so not appropriate for a casual day out. You know what? You should wear a short skirt, to show off your legs. Dylan’s a sucker for long legs.”
“That isn’t what I meant!” Heat flooded Chelsea’s cheeks at Haley’s suggestion. Of course her jeans were fine. But her two-inch heeled boots were not fine for a day of walking. And she didn’t care if Dylan was a sucker for long legs. Did not care at all. She was about to say those exact words—with emphasis—when heavy footsteps on the back porch put her in motion. “I’ll be right back. After Henry is dressed and I change my shoes!”
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