Adam said, “I wouldn’t have thought either to be a problem any typical Colorado winter, but with every record from precipitation to low temperatures being broken this year, I wouldn’t doubt anything.” He took a drink of water. “You might want to see if you can reserve plows for late that night, as well, in case we get snow during the party. I don’t need to find beds for two hundred guests my opening night.”
“Nor would we want anything to force the committee to back out of the commitment to Whispering Pines at this late date,” Tara said in a sultry voice. Tara explained how the celebration had evolved to honor Whispering Pine’s historical status in the community. Lisa’s quick retort included facts about the ranch even he’d forgotten.
Not to be outdone, Tara tried to counter with another fact, and got it all wrong.
Not missing the subtle threats Tara had tossed into the conversation, Adam interrupted them. “And the caterers are bringing the food out...”
“At four,” Tara finished for him, ignoring the young woman refilling their drinks. “I’ve ordered my gown from the boutique on Columbine, but I’ll need your size to order a tux. Would you like me to bring it out for you that morning?”
“I’m sure you’ll have enough to do. I’ll make the arrangements,” he said. He felt as if the temperature in the room had gone up twenty degrees. He could almost hear the innuendo Tara had given Lisa on the phone. If he didn’t know better, her remarks could leave people believing he was practically a married man. He shuddered to think it.
He heard Lisa whisper to the waitress and Adam nodded his thanks to the young lady as she set his plate in front of him, grateful for her prompt service. Tara went through the party hors d’oeuvres menu for at least the fifteenth time. “Did something change since last time we discussed the menu?”
Tara looked back at her notes while Adam took another bite of lasagna. “No, why?”
“I thought I must have missed a change. It sounds like you have everything under control, Tara. I’m sure the event will be a huge success.”
Lisa ate her ravioli marinara without meeting his gaze. What in the world must she be thinking?
Tara took a bite of shrimp and linguini. “Lisa,” she said with a clump of food in her cheek, “are you planning to stay for the masquerade ball?”
Surprised, Lisa forced her bite down before attempting an answer. “I haven’t quite decided yet, but you’re making it quite inviting. It sounds like a perfect conclusion...”
Adam nudged her knee with his.
Taking a sip of water, she paused the just long enough to nudge him back. “To my visit,” Lisa continued. “I wouldn’t miss being here to support such dear friends as the MacIntyres.”
Adam couldn’t get out of here fast enough. If he didn’t, who knew what the two women would come up with next? He asked for their bills, and excused himself and Lisa as soon as she indicated she was ready.
Obviously caught off guard by his quick departure, Tara hadn’t finished eating. “Adam, will next week, same time, work to finalize plans?”
Shaking his head, Adam declined. “I have a lot of last-minute details at the ranch to oversee from here on out. Call if there are changes.”
Tara looked at him, then Lisa, with a look of revenge. He moved his hand to
Lisa’s waist to escort the drifter away from Tara’s lethal glare.
He didn’t relax until the restaurant doors closed behind them.
It took Lisa all of two seconds to react. “You...” she began, spinning around to scold him.
He lowered his face close to hers. “Deserve every rotten thing you could say about me, but after we’re out of her view, please. And try not to look as if everything I said was a fabrication. I do still have to work with the woman for two more weeks.”
Lisa’s smile was one of triumph, pure and simple. She could easily have fed him to the wolves, and right now he couldn’t wait to find out why she hadn’t.
He unlocked her door and helped her inside. She started to protest again, but he raised his hand to stop her. “Hold that thought.”
She buckled up and waited silently until they’d turned onto College Drive. “You are a cad.”
“I had that coming.”
Lisa’s voice rose an octave. “You could have warned me that she would come at me with claws out.”
“Wait just a minute. Your phone conversation with Tara should’ve clued you into that.” Adam turned into the shopping center, hoping that setting Lisa free to spend his money would take her mind off his less-than-stellar behavior. “What do you say we buy some bedding?”
Lisa ignored his question. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth about why I’m here? And why didn’t you tell me your grand opening is a masquerade ball?” she demanded without allowing time to answer either. “It is the perfect conclusion to this story. A masquerade ball on Valentine’s Day. My editor will love it.”
“Lisa, I’m sorry for putting you in an awkward position with Tara. And I admit, you handled it with incredible class.”
She gazed at him with her sweet musing look. “So what was that nudge for?”
Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and he felt trouble brewing. “I wasn’t sure what you were going to say. I don’t want Tara to find out about the magazine or the article.” Suddenly Adam realized he had lost the willpower to push her away. He would let her do this story her way.
Lisa laughed. “Well, you can bet I won’t be the one to tell her, but just knowing the woman, your secret isn’t safe for long.”
She was probably right. And if his past luck with women was any indication, he’d spend the rest of his life picking up the pieces.
They stepped into the department store side by side. Something told him his plans of being home in time for evening chores were shot.
Adam had never seen so much bedding in his life. “One word of warning. No ruffles, no lace, no frills,” he said as she pulled a cart from the rack and handed it to him, taking another for herself.
She turned around and looked at him wide-eyed. “Oh, no you don’t. If you want my advice, I’m willing to give it, but it’s your ranch.” She pushed the cart forward, nudging him to take the lead.
“There you go changing the rules again.”
She smiled mischievously, “Come on. Picking out bedding isn’t painful. It just takes an imagination.”
Adam started down the aisle, pulling the cart behind him. He tossed five sets of hunter-green sheets from one shelf—pillowcases from another—into the basket as he walked. He skipped the pink sets and moved on to the blue, then added to the assortment. The last set landed with a splat on the linoleum floor. He turned to find Lisa frantically putting the sheets back on the shelf.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to save you a few hundred dollars.” She pointed at the designer label. “Not to mention, you have to look at the bed size. I don’t think you have many twins in the lodge, do you?”
“No, none.”
“And dark colors fade. Just a suggestion, I’d stick with the lighter shades for the sheets since they get washed so often. Now, first you need to decide on a color for each room.” She pulled out her notepad and pen and leaned against the shelves, taking tally of furniture color, size and style.
“We just received the beds a week ago—let’s see...” Adam recited the information from memory.
“Color preferences?”
Adam looked around, then shrugged. “That’s why I need your help. And with your traveling experience, you surely have ideas of what works and what doesn’t.”
“Why don’t we start with the same colors for two or three rooms so you can mix and match if need be?” She headed toward the hunter green and burgundy first.
Five hours, three stores and he didn’t dare add up how many dollars later, they had the bedding, towels and guest room window coverings purchased. The back of the truck was heaped full. He carried the boxes into the lodge, hoping Lisa would hurry and get everything
put into the rooms they belonged in before he managed to mix them up.
They worked late into the evening, racing to open packages, removing all the tags and getting the piles of linens into the four industrial-size washers.
The phone rang as the two of them ran through the kitchen each carrying a load of towels. Adam paused to take the call, giving Lisa the chance to ease ahead. “Hello.” Adam laughed breathlessly into the phone.
“Is Adam there?” Katarina asked hesitantly.
“Kat, this is Adam. Who’d you think was answering my phone?”
“It doesn’t sound like you.” His sister-in-law’s voice was thick with concern.
Adam had no doubts that Katarina was serious, and felt a laugh work its way up from deep in his chest. “Don’t worry, it’s me, and I’m fine. Is everything there okay? Do you want to talk to your sister?”
“Yeah, everything’s okay. Your mom and I’ve been busy getting the nursery ready. Must be the nesting instinct kicking in. Poor Alex can’t believe how much stuff it takes to get ready for a baby.”
Adam laughed again. “Tell him he’s got nothing to complain about. Your sister and I just bought sixty sheets...”
“Sixty-four,” Lisa yelled over the sound of water spilling into the stainless-steel tub.
“Correction, sixty-four.” He took the cordless phone into the laundry room and handed it to Lisa. “Why don’t you talk, and I’ll do this?”
He could only imagine the suspicion that would result from Lisa and Katarina’s conversation. His family would think he’d absolutely lost his mind, making games out of doing the laundry. And he’d never hear the end of Lisa getting him to accomplish in one afternoon what they had nagged him to do for two months. He had to agree; it was nothing short of a miracle.
While Lisa visited with her sister, she continued to sort bedding into rooms and silently assign each of them a stack to carry up the stairs. How she managed to keep everything straight was a mystery. Next she ripped open the packages of curtains and motioned for him to bring her the ironing board, iron and a spray bottle. Before he returned, she and her sister had finished talking.
He emerged from his house with the ironing equipment. “Where do you want these?”
“Since we’re going to hang them upstairs, we may as well work up there. Before we start on that, why don’t I fix us a sandwich while you take care of the animals? It’s almost nine.”
Adam leaned the board against the wall and met her next to the refrigerator. She turned to set the mayonnaise on the counter and he pulled her into his arms. “You made today a lot more fun than work, Lisa. You can’t imagine how I’ve dreaded doing this.”
She put her hands around his neck. “Then why didn’t you let your mom and sisters take it over?”
“If you saw their frilly bedrooms, you’d understand. And—” he shrugged “—I wanted to do it myself, but I couldn’t have done any of it without your help. You have a terrific eye for this sort of thing.”
“I was an art major, Adam. Photography and journalism were minors, but there’s a lot more money in them right now.” Her smile invited him to end the conversation. “Besides,” she whispered, “interior decorating is only fun when your taste matches that of the customer.”
“Let’s test your theory.” He closed his eyes and lowered his lips to hers. Adam struggled to keep his feelings for the drifter from going any deeper, but that, too, was quickly getting out of hand. She felt perfect in his embrace. She made the mundane an adventure, and as she herself admitted, their tastes were perfectly matched. What more could a man ask for?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LISA GLANCED AT Adam, then quickly diverted her gaze. Sleep had been next to impossible after working all evening with Adam and sharing another of his memory-erasing kisses. This morning, she had to stick to business. Falling in love did not fit into her plan. And falling for Adam—well...she simply couldn’t overlook how painful leaving would be.
“So,” she said, looking from the lodge to the barn then on to a building beyond the corrals, “you’ve been spending a lot of time out here. What do you do besides feeding the livestock?”
Adam picked up a stick and threw it. Toby took off across the snow-fluffed pasture. “Work in my shop, refurbishing furniture. You like antiques?”
She nodded. “Have you restored all of the items in the lodge yourself?”
“Most of them. Mom loves garage sales, and I like returning pieces to their original beauty. I’m not much for this trend of keeping them in a state of disrepair in order to retain the piece’s value. Care to see my latest project?”
“Sure.” She followed him to the log building next to the barn. He swung open the oversize door, turned on the lights and a loud fan buzzed. The distinct odor of chemicals lingered, though not overwhelmingly so.
The room was neat and orderly, just like the rest of Adam’s world. Workbenches and shelves lined the walls and tools were meticulously arranged.
Lisa couldn’t help but wonder if Adam kept every aspect of his life in such impeccable order. She followed him across the room, past a variety of power tools. Buckets and coffee cans held miscellaneous brushes and steel wool. She spun around, examining the area. “I must admit, I’ve never seen anyone quite so organized.”
“Scary, huh?” He chuckled. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I like things to move smoothly. I have to keep the sanding and wood tools as far from the finishing area as I can so the room stays dustless. The fan helps with that and removing fumes.”
Lisa noticed the odor was nearly gone. “This looks pretty professional. Are you doing it just to furnish the lodge or is it another business venture?”
“Haven’t decided yet. We have more furniture than we can ever use. You wouldn’t believe what all Mom brings home. It’s so bad that my sisters, your sisters and even Meg are dragging things home now.”
Lisa grinned. “I know. Things and people.”
“I didn’t mean you, and if...”
Lisa laughed and moved right on to the next question, leading Adam to hand her a mask and take her step-by-step through the refinishing process. He spread chemicals over the painted wood surface and let it set while he took her into the next room and closed the door behind them. “This is where I apply the finish, so the door has to stay closed.” Before them stood a clawfoot oak double-pedestal dining room table. “That way, when I apply the varnish there are no little specks to sand out—well, fewer at least.”
“This is beautiful.” She stepped forward and examined it closely. Lisa reached for it, stopping herself just before she touched it.
“It’s dry. Go ahead,” he said.
She ran her hand over the satin finish, feeling tiny ridges where the oak grain enhanced the richness of the piece.
“Grandpa’s parents brought this with them all the way from Virginia in the late 1800s. I decided it was about time it had a face-lift.”
Lisa couldn’t keep from looking up at Adam—to the modest, matter-of-fact, nonassuming way he viewed all of this. He was restoring history, devoting his life to the heritage his forefathers had passed down. He valued family and honor more than anyone she’d ever met. She backed her way to the door and returned to the other room.
“You okay?” Adam’s hand touched hers and Lisa nodded.
“What’s next?” She moved immediately to the fancy two-drawer dresser and pretended to study it.
The entire drawer front was covered with a pale pink slime. Adam put on gloves and started scraping the muck into a plastic bucket with a flat broad blade tool. “We need to get down through all these layers to the bare wood.”
“I can’t believe you see hope for this. No offense, but it looks awful.” She ran her finger over a blister in the dresser top.
Adam poured solution over the dresser and spread it with the paintbrush. “Give it a week. You won’t believe it’s the same piece,” he said.
Adam had cleaned away the slime, which left only bits of color trapped i
n the grain and the grooves of the carved design on the front of the drawer. He dabbed a bit more solution on those spots then moved back to the dresser top and zipped away the paint.
Lisa moved closer to examine the damage. “Now what do you do with this?” She ran her fingers over the large split in the veneer.
“It just needs a little tender loving care.” He took a piece of fine steel wool, dipped it into a small bowl of solution and cleaned away the excess residue, then pulled a large syringe from the cabinet and popped the protective cover off. “I use this livestock syringe to inject wood glue under the veneer.” Going all directions, he squeezed the goo into the opening, then picked up a flat board from a pile of scraps. “We cover the wood with a piece of wax paper in case any glue oozes out...clamp the wood over the bubble and it should take care of the problem. You’ll never even notice a
scar.”
Lisa looked at the piece as if it had been under the care of a skilled surgeon’s hand. “Huh.” She wondered if Adam always looked at a piece as if it were a patient waiting for analysis.
“And now, we’re going to get rid of all this extra crud that has gathered in the crevices.” He moved back to the drawer. After clearing the first layers of paint from the deep grooves with a pointed trowel, he took out a dentist’s tool and carefully dug in the corners of the finely carved cornices, dabbing extra solution on where excess paint had collected. Like a caterpillar hungrily munching back and forth across the width of a leaf, Adam carefully dug, then dabbed and cleaned some more, until the deep mahogany color of the wood hadn’t a trace of pink enamel on it.
“Where did a finance major learn to refinish furniture?”
“Grandpa was always fixing something, and I loved watching. The first time he gave me a nightstand to refinish, I thought it was a lost cause. Ever since then, I’ve loved the entire process of restoration. And like the dining room table, I love seeing the results and knowing that someone will be enjoying the same pieces that others have enjoyed for decades. It disturbs me to see the waste—like old buildings left to rot and decay against the harsh elements.”
Rocky Mountain Valentine Page 9