Sweetbriar Cottage

by Denise Hunter

  Rango turned and nudged him with his nose, and Noah picked up the brush, drawing it over the horse’s withers. He wondered how many men Josephine had been out with since they’d parted ways. Since they’d thought they were divorced. He told himself it didn’t matter. She wasn’t his anymore, even if the law said otherwise.

  But he couldn’t deny she hadn’t been far from his thoughts since Saturday. The memories—so good, so bad—were closer to the surface than he’d realized. This had stirred up the past. And the past was definitely best buried.

  He looked up to the barn rafters as if he could gaze straight through to heaven.

  What kind of cruel trick is this?

  Josephine played the message for the third time in a row. Outside her shop night had fallen. The Closed sign was turned, the door locked. Noah spoke through her phone speaker, his voice hard. Cold.

  She’d seen his call come in between customers. She’d had nothing better to do than sweep the dusty corners, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer. Instead she froze, the broom gripped in her clutches as he spilled the facts. Just the facts, ma’am, and nothing but.

  The message finished again, ending with his curt order to go sign the papers.

  Still married. The thought played cruelly at the edges of her mind, taunting her. Married, divorced, what did it matter? She lived like a eunuch anyway. Not that the people of Copper Creek would believe it. She’d finally learned her lesson. Should’ve learned it years ago. Why on earth she’d ever let Noah convince her otherwise was anybody’s guess.

  She’d hurt him, and for what? Shame, familiar and deserving, washed over her, and she welcomed it. Maybe she wasn’t a “bad seed,” as her stepfather had called her, but even after a year of therapy she didn’t trust herself with another relationship. She wasn’t inflicting herself on anyone else. Not ever again.

  She wished for the hundredth time she could go back in time and hire Sawyer’s Construction instead of Noah. Would’ve saved them both a whole heap of trouble.

  Trying to shake the thoughts, she turned down the air, then made her way up to her quiet apartment. Once there she flipped on the radio to fill the lonely corners.

  She needed to put Noah from her mind, but he was like a burr caught in a snarl of hair. She pulled out her schedule for Saturday. Residents from the Hope House Girls Home were coming in for some well-deserved pampering. The high school’s spring fling was Saturday night, and she was bringing in all her stylists to provide free updos and makeup. She’d found two manicurists from the surrounding counties willing to donate their time. She could hardly wait to see the girls all dolled up and confident.

  The planning kept her busy until her eyes grew tired. She readied for bed and crawled under the sheet, willing a cool breeze to drift through the window. It was a vision of Noah’s face that drifted by instead. Those cold eyes fixed on her. His jaw twitching with anger.

  His voice on the machine played back in her head, his tone so full of disgust it made her ache inside. He’d be coming to town Friday, he said. Though it was obvious he wanted this over yesterday.

  Maybe she couldn’t turn back time and do things differently. Maybe she couldn’t make them magically divorced. But she could save him a trip down the mountain and speed up the process by a few days. For Noah’s sake. Maybe for hers too. Wednesday after she closed up, she’d deliver the papers to him herself. It was the least she could do.

  Chapter 5

  Josephine turned over the key of her Ford Focus, her mind already on the evening ahead. The car’s engine faltered, as it often did. It needed work, but she’d been putting it off.

  She tried again. “Come on, baby. You can do it.” She had to get this over with. She could hardly concentrate on a thing for thoughts of Noah Mitchell.

  The engine turned over, and she gave a heartfelt sigh. The packet of papers from the lawyer’s office resting in her passenger seat, she pulled from the curb and exited town. Noah now lived at Sweetbriar Ranch, a good thirty minutes over the mountain.

  The sun was on the horizon, and she already dreaded the drive back through the winding mountain roads after dark. But not as much as she dreaded seeing Noah again.

  Her heart gave an extra thump. Dreaded was too simple a word for the complex emotions he stirred. At least he’d be glad to see her. Not because he wanted her company, of course, but because she was expediting the divorce process. She didn’t for a moment think the good deed would balance out her colossal failures.

  Rain started shortly after she entered the mountains, and she turned on the wipers, slowing to accommodate the twists and turns. It was beautiful up here. Full of pine and mountain views, and the kind of quiet that made your thoughts loud.

  She wondered if Noah was sitting down for supper. For the first time, she wondered if he was alone. She’d heard rumors in town about him and his equine instructor, Mary Beth Maynor. What if Josephine was interrupting a quiet night or a romantic supper for two?

  Her palms grew sweaty on the steering wheel. Mary Beth was a sweet church girl with a good, proper upbringing. She was pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, with her straight dark hair and easy smile. She’d be good for Noah.

  The thought was like a fist around Josephine’s heart.

  No wonder he’d been so riled up by their situation. If he was seeing Mary Beth, he was unintentionally cheating, and there was no one more loyal than Noah.

  The road wound on, twisting north and south, east and west, until her stomach grew queasy. The sun had dipped under the horizon now, and rain fell steadily, pattering against the roof of her car.

  She slowed as she neared Old Hollow Road, a gravel lane that shot off to the right down a steep slope. A sign at the juncture pointed toward Sweetbriar Ranch. The road went on before finally opening to a broad area of rolling hills lined by a white ranch rail fence. A sign out front confirmed her arrival.

  Gravel popped under her tires as she made her way down the long drive. The landscape was monochromatic in the waning light, but she imagined the rolling hills green and dotted with the horses she’d seen once before, during happier times. She crossed a wooden bridge over a creek that meandered through the pasture.

  Growing up, Noah had worked at the ranch as a stable boy when his family’s construction business was slow. It had surprised her when she heard he’d bought the place. As much as he loved horses, construction was part of his DNA. She couldn’t even imagine him giving it up. Somehow she’d taken on the guilt for that too.

  She topped a hill, bringing a small cottage into view. A light burned through the window, and a curl of smoke wound from the chimney. She braked in front of the house and grabbed the packet, then dashed through the cold rain for the shelter of the porch.

  Three knocks later her stomach had sunk to her toes. Surely she hadn’t come all this way for nothing. What if he’d found a break in his schedule and gone into town for the papers? He’d be fit to be tied if he went all that way and found her gone.

  She scanned the property in the waning light and spied the shadow of a barn in the rear of the property. A faint light glowed. Of course.

  She dashed back to her car, fighting the engine and winning after the second try. She pulled down the visor and winced at her reflection: wilted hair, rain-slicked face, and thin ivory cardigan, speckled with water. Oh well. He wasn’t likely to be impressed no matter how she looked.

  She followed the drive back to the barn and spotted his truck beside it. As she got out she heard a loud whinny from inside the barn, followed by Noah’s deep voice. She dashed toward the shelter and stopped just inside the door.

  Noah was leading a brown horse into a stall. He wore a dark slicker, the hood raised, and his face was wet with rain. A black horse stood in the aisle, waiting. His ears pricked in her direction, and he gave a soft nicker she could barely hear.

  At the sound, Noah turned and spotted her by the opening. Something flared in his eyes, surprise maybe and something else, before they narrowed into slit
s.

  His jaw knotted as his gaze raked over her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I-I brought the papers.”

  His gaze dropped to the packet in her hand.

  “I thought it would expedite the process if I brought them over.”

  The glow of light did nothing to soften his harsh features. “You should’ve called. I have to get the horses in.”

  She fished in her purse for a pen. “If you just sign them, I’ll be on my way. I can get them back to Joe first thing in the morning.”

  He gave a wry laugh. “If you think I’m signing without reading, you’re plumb crazy.”

  Heat crawled into her face. “They’re the same papers we agreed to before. I just picked them up.”

  He backed out of the stall and shut the gate. “Just the same, I’ll look them over.”

  She shifted, clutching the packet to her middle. “Right. Well, I suppose I’ll just sign them and leave them with you then.” He could return them at his leisure. So much for her trip up the mountain.

  He retrieved the black horse’s lead, a frown puckering his brow.

  Josephine waited patiently while he led the horse into the stall, apparently deep in thought.

  Feeling dismissed, she uncapped her pen and flipped to the last page. She set the packet on a nearby Rubbermaid bin and signed her name on the line, her hand shaking.

  No big deal, Josephine. You thought it was already over anyway. Just a formality. Inside though, a jumble of emotions threatened to spill over.

  She finished, straightening. “Okay. I’ll just leave it right here.” When he didn’t respond she turned to go. The rain had picked up, and she crossed her arms and ducked her head in preparation for the onslaught.

  “Wait.”

  Josephine turned while Noah finished removing the coat from the black horse, working quickly.

  When he finished he turned his dark gaze on her and heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to drive back into town. If you can wait a bit, I’ll be finished here in twenty or thirty minutes.”

  She had nowhere better to be. “I’ll wait in the car.”

  He opened his mouth, and she wondered if he was about to invite her to his house. But if he was, he reconsidered. “Fine.”

  She left the pen beside the papers and dashed back to the warmth of the car. She watched through the rivulets as Noah disappeared into the darkness of the pasture. Awhile later he appeared with three more horses.

  While he was inside the barn, the sound of the rain turned to pings, and Josephine realized the downpour was turning to sleet. She thought of the curvy mountain roads and mentally urged Noah to hurry.

  A few minutes later the sleet still continued steadily, and Noah was still in the barn. If she had any hope of getting safely back to town, it was now or never. She dashed back into the barn, shivering now from the cold and wet.

  Noah was removing a coat from a chestnut-colored horse.

  “Noah . . . I think I’d best just leave the papers.”

  “I’m almost finished.”

  “The rain’s turned to sleet. If I don’t leave now . . .” She let him draw his own conclusions.

  He speared her with a look, not a friendly one, his hands working in quick, efficient motions. “Fine. Go on then.”

  Nice. So much for her efforts. Feeling a little spark of irritation, she turned on her heel and headed for her car. The wind whipped her wet hair around her face, and it clung to her cheeks. She was wet to the skin and shivering from the inside out. And all for nothing. It would be a slow, dark drive down the mountain.

  She turned the key over, her gut clenching when it failed to start on the first try. And the second. A blur of motion in her peripheral vision caught her eye—Noah, striding back toward the pasture, oblivious to her rising concern.

  “Come on, baby, you can do it.” She tried again. This time the engine only gave a quiet click. Her heart stuttered. “No. No, no, no.” This was a new sound, and not a good one, she supposed. She hit the steering wheel with her palm.

  After a few more efforts she sat back in the seat, giving up. Her eyes scanned the darkened pasture for Noah, but by the time he returned, leading two horses, twenty minutes had passed.

  Sleet stung her skin as she hurried toward him. She huddled against the wind, blinking. In her rush she slid on the icy ground, catching her balance just before she fell.

  She saw the moment he noticed her. His spine lengthened, and his brows drew tight. “What are you still doing here?” he yelled over the wind.

  “My car won’t start.”

  He walked over, the horses trailing, and held out his hands for the keys.

  Clamping her lips shut, she handed them over.

  He led the horses into their stalls, working fast while she waited, shivering in a shadowed corner of the barn.

  Did he really think she wasn’t capable of turning a key? Or maybe he thought she was lying. Maybe he thought this was some ploy to work her way back into his good graces. Ha.

  He strode past her into the pounding sleet. When he reached her car, he opened the door and got in, probably banging his knee on the steering wheel. One foot remained planted on the ground.

  She watched and waited from under the barn’s overhang, but he didn’t even put the keys in the ignition. He just sat there, staring out the front windshield. Even from here she could see the sharp rise and fall of his chest.

  The interior light shone on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the sleek line of his nose.

  She hunched over and darted across the yard, stopping at the open car door. “What are you doing?”

  He said nothing as his jaw knotted.

  “Aren’t you going to give it a go?” She’d once been good at reading his mind. But that’s when he was looking at her, his emotions naked on his face. Now there was nothing but dead eyes and a blank slate.

  “It’s too late,” he said flatly.

  She barely heard him over the wind and the ping of ice. “What do you mean?”

  “Look at the windshield. There’s a coat of ice on everything.”

  He was right, she thought, realization settling over her. There was no way she’d make it up those hills with her balding tires, even if her car magically started. Even the ground beneath her was turning slick.

  The wind gusted, driving the pellets into her cheeks. She ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I guess you’ll have to take me in your truck then. It’s four-wheel drive, isn’t it?”

  He turned slowly, nailing her with a lethal look. “That won’t do us any good in this ice, Josephine.”

  His meaning began sinking in. Good and deep. Oh no. No way. “Well—well, it’ll have to do.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We wouldn’t even make it up to the road.”

  “Well, I’m not staying here.”

  “You don’t have much choice.”

  “I’ll—I’ll stay in my car then.”

  “It’s thirty-four degrees, Josephine.”

  “I don’t care.” She backed away. She wasn’t imposing on him. She knew when she wasn’t wanted. Noah would rather chop off an arm than spend an hour with her, and she wasn’t too crazy about the idea either.

  “You’d freeze to death out here.”

  She thought of the little house on the hill, the glow of light, the cozy fire burning in the fireplace. Just her and Noah and an avalanche of warm memories. A cold shiver of fear washed over her.

  “Get me a blanket. I’ll be just fine.”

  He stepped out of the car and shut the door.

  When she reached for the keys, he pointed them at the car and pressed a button. The locks clicked into place, and he pocketed the keys.

  A red heat fired up inside that somehow made her shiver harder. “Give me my keys!”

  But Noah was already halfway to his truck.

  She scrambled after him, slipping once on her way. “Noah!”

  She caught up with him as he opened the passenger door.<
br />
  His face was as hard as a block of ice. “Get in.”

  “Give me my keys!”

  “Get in, Josephine, or I’ll put you in myself.”

  She darted a hand into his coat pocket, but before she found the keys, he’d scooped her up into his arms. He took a step, dumped her unceremoniously into the truck, and shut the door beside her.

  By the time she sat up and reached for the handle, Noah had slid into the driver’s seat, and the locks clicked into place.

  Josephine popped the lock on her door, but before she could reach the handle, Noah grabbed her arm. “Settle down! You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Well, you’re being a bully! You can’t just kidnap me. I don’t want to stay here.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have come!”

  That smarted. She worked to control her tongue. “I was trying to do you a favor.”

  He gave a wry laugh as he started the truck and whipped it around.

  She grabbed the dash to keep from falling on him. The truck gave a little slip, and he slowed as he took the next curve.

  Josephine’s eyes locked on the cottage hunched on the distant hill. All the anger drained away, replaced by the kind of terror that seeped slowly into the veins. This was really happening. She was with Noah. She was spending the night with Noah. All alone. Just the two of them.

  She closed her eyes, making the house evaporate for one sweet moment of denial. She drew in a deep breath, and the familiar masculine scent of him, musk and wood, filled her nostrils.

  She couldn’t escape this. Couldn’t escape him.

  He was right. It was too cold to spend the night in her car, and she was soaked to the skin. Her teeth chattered, and her body vibrated with the kind of cold that went bone-deep. How could this be happening? She was such an idiot. Why had she come out here? Why hadn’t she checked the forecast?

  She opened her eyes and focused on the cottage growing ever closer. It was so little. As small as their bungalow on Katydid Lane. She remembered snuggling up on cold winter nights on their lumpy couch, an afghan wrapped around them. Making supper together in the tight kitchen, his hand finding the curve of her waist, his lips the slope of her neck. Abandoning skillets on the stovetop, dinner congealing, as he walked her backward to their bedroom.