by Shirley Jump
“The very one.” She gave him a grin, as pleased as the Cheshire cat.
“Why would you buy that place?”
“Because nothing does better marketing for a bed-and-breakfast in the South than a haunted house once owned by a suspected murderer. I know the place is a mess, but with Savannah’s keen eye for restoration and Jack’s amazing building skills we should be able—”
“Wait. Did you say bed-and-breakfast?” Bobby wondered if maybe he should get his hearing checked, because every word that came out of Della’s mouth made little sense to him. “Why would you care about a B&B?”
“Because that’s what I’m going to do,” she said, and her Cheshire cat grin widened. “I’m going to renovate that house and run it as a B&B. I love cooking, I love keeping a house and I absolutely love company.”
“And...” He took in a deep breath then pushed it out with the next words. “What about us?”
“What about us?” She looked at him, and then her eyes softened and her smile widened. “Oh, Robert Barlow, you big fool. You don’t think you can get rid of me that easily, do you? I’ve been with you thirty-five years. I’ve barely got you broken in. I’m not going anywhere. Nowhere at all.”
He laughed, a big whoop of a laugh that scared a nearby seagull and seemed to echo across the ocean. Then he took the love of his life into his arms and gave her a long, hot, deep kiss.
“My, my, Robert,” Della said, a sweet red flush in her cheeks, “you still do surprise me.”
“And you, my dear wife, still surprise me.” He brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead then cupped her cheek. “Thank you for the best thirty-five years of my life. I can’t wait for the next thirty-five.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and fit into the place where she had always been happiest, right in Bobby’s arms. “I can’t, either. But I can promise you one thing. They’re going to be an adventure.”
“They will indeed,” Bobby whispered, then kissed his wife again, softly, sweetly and with a whole lot of gratitude in his heart.
* * *
The Sea Shanty was filled to the brim by the time Rachel arrived at the party. She was late, but only because she had changed her dress three times, then at the last minute invited her father along for moral support.
“You look beautiful,” her father said. He gave his daughter’s arm a pat. “Your mother would be so proud.”
“Oh, thank you, Dad.” Rachel pressed a kiss to her father’s cheek then headed into the dining room. She saw Della and Bobby sitting at the head table set up by the window, flanked by their sons and their wives and fiancées. An empty seat sat to the left of Colton.
When she entered the room, he looked up and smiled at her. Even from here, all the way across the restaurant, a simple smile from him sent a flutter through her heart. She wanted to close that distance and leap into his arms and forget every silly fear she’d ever had.
There was a band on the stage and they launched into a version of “At Last.” Bobby got to his feet and put out his hand to his wife. Della blushed then took his hand and went with him to the dance floor.
Rachel watched them, two people still happy together after three and a half decades of marriage, still laughing, still blushing when they flirted. They spun around the dance floor, a testament to taking that leap and making it work.
“Shall we dance?”
Colton’s warm voice in her ear slid through her like butter. She could feel a blush filling her own face, and for a brief moment wondered if thirty-five years from now, that would be them in the middle of the dance floor.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, then slipped into his arms. She fit perfectly against him, and they moved as if they’d been made for dancing together. As they waltzed past Bobby and Della, Della gave Rachel and Colton a smile.
“You two make a wonderful couple,” Della said.
“I keep trying to tell her that,” Colton said to Della, then he turned back to Rachel. “When are you going to believe me?”
She drew in a deep breath. Either she took this risk or she risked something even bigger—losing this incredible man. “How about tonight?” she said.
“Really?” A wide grin filled his face. “What changed your mind?”
“It was a desk.” Rachel swayed with Colton to the right, their movements easy and fluid with the music. She could see the confusion in his face, and that made her happy that he didn’t realize how one simple thing had changed everything. “On the way over here, I stopped by the store with my dad to see what you guys had done this morning. He wanted to see if the shop would be ready to open on Monday and it is. We need to wait on some inventory, of course, but there’s enough to get started back up again. So thank you for all your hard work and turning that around so fast.”
“That was my intention,” Colton said. “I know business has been slow and I didn’t want him to lose too much business because of being closed down for too long.”
Yet another vote in the thoughtful and considerate column for Colton Barlow, she thought.
“Then I go into the break room,” Rachel went on, “and I see the ice-maker line and the new refrigerator, and the new doorway all complete, and then I see—” even now, thinking about it made her smile, heck, even choked her up a little “—a desk in the corner. A small one, with a little set of bookshelves above it. And a small sign over the top, carved out of a piece of wood. With my name on it, and the words Wedding Planner after it. You wouldn’t know of a certain firefighter responsible for that desk and that sign, would you?”
He shrugged, and she swore she saw a blush in his cheeks. “I know it’s going to be hard for you to leave your dad. And that you probably want to take things slow with your business and easing him back into work. So I set up a little space for you in the back of the shop, so you can run your business and be close to him if he needs you.”
She had told herself she wouldn’t cry today, but tears welled in her eyes all the same. Colton had truly thought of everything, and she knew she could never thank him enough. “How do you know me so well, so quickly, Colton Barlow?”
“I think because we’re two of a kind.” He stopped dancing with her and reached up to cup her jaw and meet her gaze. “We both are so committed to taking care of the people around us that we forget about ourselves. I wanted you to be able to have everything you wanted, Rachel, whether or not you were with me.”
That was the moment when Rachel fell in love with Colton. When she’d seen that desk and realized that he only wanted what was best for her, what would make her happy. Even if he wasn’t part of that picture. “You are an incredible man,” she said.
“Only because I’m in love with an incredible woman.” He traced her lips with his thumb, and she ached to kiss him, to never stop kissing him. “I know it’s crazy, Rachel, but I am in love with you. I have loved you since that first day of the twenty-five-cent tour when you showed me that old house and you were so sentimental and sweet and—”
She rose on her toes and kissed him. To heck with the crowd dancing around the two fools standing still in the middle of the floor. “I love you, too,” she said. Because she couldn’t wait another second to say the words.
The smile on his face beamed as bright as the sun. “You know this is crazy, right?”
“It is, indeed. It’s like the kind of fairy tales I create for my brides. But sometimes,” she said softly, “sometimes, those fairy tales end in happily-ev
er-after.”
Colton looked over at Della and Bobby, dancing to celebrate more than three decades of marriage. They were joined by Jack and Meri, then Luke and Peyton and finally Mac and Savannah. The dance floor was filled with people in love, people who had taken that risk and found something worth having on the other side.
“They do, indeed,” he said, then he took Rachel into his arms and together, they joined the dance.
* * * * *
Will Colton Barlow’s sister Katie
follow him to Stone Gap?
Don’t miss the next installment of
THE BARLOW BROTHERS
by
New York Times bestselling author Shirley Jump coming soon to Harlequin Special Edition!
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in this miniseries:
THE HOMECOMING QUEEN GETS HER MAN
THE INSTANT FAMILY MAN
and
THE TYCOON’S PROPOSAL
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Wed by Fortune
by Judy Duarte
Chapter One
Graham Robinson had spent the morning working up a good sweat, thanks to a drunken teenager who’d gotten behind the wheel of a Cadillac Escalade after a rowdy, unsupervised party last night.
The kid had apparently lost control of the expensive, late-model SUV and plowed through a large section of the fence at the Galloping G Ranch, where Graham lived. Then he left the vehicle behind and ran off.
Both Graham and the sheriff who’d been here earlier knew it had been a teenager because on the passenger seat a frayed backpack, as well as a catcher’s mitt, sat next to an invitation with directions to a ranch six miles down the road.
Sadly, the same thing could easily have happened to him, when he’d been seventeen. That’s why he and Roger Gibault, his friend and the owner of the ranch, were determined to turn the Galloping G into a place where troubled teenage boys could turn their lives around.
Back in the day, both Graham and Roger’s late son had what Roger called rebellious streaks. Graham’s dad, the patriarch of the famous Austin Robinsons—and an alleged member of the Fortune family—wasn’t so open-minded.
But after Peter’s tragic death, things had changed. Graham had changed. Now, instead of creating problems for others to clean up, Graham was digging out several damaged posts and replacing broken railings.
After he hammered one last nail into the rail he’d been fixing, he blew out a sigh and glanced at the well-trained Appaloosa gelding that was grazing nearby on an expanse of green grass. He’d driven out here earlier in the twelve-year-old Gator ATV, but the engine had been skipping. So after unloading his tools and supplies, he’d taken it back to the barn, where Roger could work on the engine. Then he’d ridden back on the gelding. Hopefully, Roger had the vehicle fixed by now. If not, they’d probably have to replace it with a newer model.
When the familiar John Deere engine sounded, Graham looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Roger had worked his mechanical magic and was approaching at a fairly good clip.
Moments later, the aging rancher pulled to a stop, the engine idling smoothly.
Glad to have a break, Graham winked at his elderly friend. “Did you come out here to check up on me and make sure I wasn’t loafing?”
“I knew better than that. I’d be more apt to make sure you hadn’t worked yourself to death.” Roger lifted his battered black Stetson, then raked a hand through his thinning gray hair.
The fact that he hadn’t returned Graham’s smile was cause for concern. “What’s up?”
Roger paused for a beat, then said, “Sasha-Marie just called. She’s on her way here.”
Graham nearly dropped the hammer he was holding. Roger and his niece had once been close, but they’d drifted apart after her marriage. “Is she still living in California?”
“I don’t think so. But I’m not sure.”
When Sasha-Marie had been in kindergarten, she lost her parents in a small plane crash. Her maternal grandparents, who lived in Austin, were granted custody, but she spent many of her school vacations with Roger, her paternal uncle.
Since Roger and his late wife had only one child, a son who’d been born to them late in life, Sasha-Marie became the daughter they’d never had and the apple of her doting uncle’s eye.
Roger had been proud when she went off to college, but he hadn’t approved of the man she’d met there and started dating. After she married the guy and moved out of state, Roger rarely mentioned her.
Graham hadn’t met her husband. He’d been invited to the wedding, although he hadn’t attended. He’d come down with a nasty stomach flu and had stayed on the ranch.
According to Roger, it had been a “big wingding,” and most likely the sort of elegant affair that Graham’s family usually put on, the kind of function he still did his best to avoid whenever possible.
On the morning of the wedding, as Graham had gone to replenish a glass of water, he’d met Roger in the Galloping G kitchen. Roger had been dressed in a rented tuxedo, his hair slicked back, his lips pursed in a scowl. His job was to give away the bride, but he hadn’t been happy about it.
“This ain’t right,” he’d said.
Graham thought he might be talking about the monkey suit he’d been asked to wear. “You mean all the wedding formalities?”
Roger shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she won’t hear it. Just because she’s gone off to college, she thinks she’s bright. But she’s been so blinded by all the glitz and glamour she can’t see what a louse her future husband really is.”
Having grown up in tech mogul Gerald Robinson’s household, Graham had experi
enced plenty of glitz and glamour himself. He knew a lot of phony people who flashed their wealth, which was one reason he was content to be a cowboy and manage the Galloping G for Roger.
The other reason was that he wanted to look out for the old rancher and his best interests. That’s why the news of Sasha’s return today was a big deal.
“Is Sasha’s husband coming with her?” Graham asked.
“Nope.” Roger placed his hat back on his head, adjusting it properly and shading his eyes from the afternoon sun.
Graham wondered if the older man would offer up another comment, but he kept his thoughts to himself. That really wasn’t surprising. He’d been pretty close-lipped about Sasha since the wedding, which must have been eight or more years ago. Graham had tried to get him to talk about his anger and disappointment, thinking that might help. But he respected the man’s silence. He also sympathized with him.
After Sasha gave birth to a baby—a girl, if Graham remembered correctly—Roger had gone to visit her in California. He’d not only wanted to see his great-niece, but he’d also hoped to mend fences. Two days later he’d returned to the ranch, just as quiet as he’d been before. Graham’s only clue to what had transpired was the response to his single question about how things went.
“Not well,” Roger had said. And that had pretty much been the end of it.
Graham stole a glance at the man who’d become more of a father to him than his own dad. But then again, they’d weathered Peter’s death together, leaning on each other so they could get through the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking grief.
Bonds like that were strong. And they lasted a lifetime.
Roger stared out in the distance at the two-lane highway that led to the big ranch house in which he now lived alone. Was he looking for Sasha’s car?
Or was he just pondering the blowup that he’d had with her husband? Graham wasn’t privy to all that had happened on Sasha’s wedding day, but he did know that Gabe had, in so many words, told Roger to butt out of Sasha’s life.