Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan

by Christine Rimmer

  “She’s an amazing woman,” Allaire added.

  As if he didn’t damn well know that. As if he even needed to hear all that stuff about how well she was doing, how everyone in town just couldn’t wait until her grand opening.

  Had he seen the ads she’d put in the Thunder Canyon Nugget? Cute, weren’t they? Really eye-catching.

  Allaire modestly admitted that she had designed them.

  He left his cousin’s house at nine that night, earlier than he should have, he knew. Leaving so early was borderline rude, but he had to get out of there.

  Lizzie this. Lizzie that.

  It was driving him crazy.

  He headed for the Hitching Post, thinking maybe he’d meet someone, a pretty, big-eyed woman, someone delicate and sweet. But when he got there, he couldn’t go in. He sat in the parking lot for a while, feeling like a wuss, wondering what had happened to him. And then he started up the SUV again and got out of there.

  It didn’t seem right to try to forget Lizzie in some strange woman’s arms. If that made him a wuss, so be it.

  The bakery just happened to be on his way home. He drove right on by, not slowing or stopping. He wasn’t that bad off, he told himself. No so bad off that he would hang around her place, just hoping for a glimpse of her. But still, he couldn’t help glancing up at the second story as he passed.

  The lights were on in the apartment. He thought he saw her shadow move behind the drawn shades. Was she alone?

  It hurt bad to think that she might not be. But then, he was already hurting. Hurting with missing her. He was beginning to see that she had filled a hole he hadn’t even known was there in his world. In his life.

  A hole he only recognized as an emptiness now that she was gone.

  He went back to the house, where it hurt to go inside and smell nothing but a faint hint of lemon wax, which Norma used when she dusted. No muffins, blueberry or otherwise. No butter-pecan sugar cookies. No strawberry-rhubarb pie.

  No Lizzie in her old blue robe, her hair wild on the sides and flattened at the back of her head, offering a drink or a hot cup of decaf.

  He poured his own drink. A big one. And he sat in the easy chair in the family room. He sipped and he brooded.

  He considered certain facts that he’d been avoiding admitting. Like how Lizzie provided everything a man could ever want from a woman; she created a place to call home where otherwise there was nothing but a lonely house. She gave him muffins in the morning—or whenever he wanted them. From her, he got straight talk and a few laughs, too. She told him the truth always. Nothing less.

  And then there was the sex. It was terrific with Lizzie. Better than just good. She made love like she baked—with her whole heart.

  He shook his head. Come on, what was he doing?

  The point was to get over her. To get over her and get on with his life. He couldn’t do that if he kept looking back, kept going over all the things he missed about her now that she was gone.

  Right then and there, he made a silent vow not to think about Lizzie anymore. It wasn’t the first time he’d made such a vow.

  They never lasted, those particular vows, because seriously, how does a man make himself not think about a woman?

  He only ended up thinking about how he wasn’t going to think about her. Which, when you came right down to it, still counted as thinking about her.

  Ethan dropped his head to the chair back and glared at the ceiling. What a damn mess.

  None of this was working out the way he’d planned.

  The next day, Saturday, he drove to Great Falls. He had dinner with a landowner who had agreed to lease him mineral rights. And he had a reservation at the same motel he and Lizzie had stayed in back in June.

  He ended up getting back in his SUV and driving home because the motel reminded him of Lizzie.

  Which was downright pitiful, if he really thought about it.

  He kept good and busy through the third week in July. He flew down to Midland Monday for a series of meetings at TOI. He had dinner with his mom and Pete twice during the three-day visit. They each made a point to get him aside and ask him if he was all right.

  He told them both that he was fine. Great. Perfect. He had it all. The resort investment was a solid one. TOI Montana was a go. Things couldn’t be better.

  Did either of them believe him? He had no clue. He told himself it was nice that they cared, but he wished they would just mind their own damn business.

  He got back to Thunder Canyon Thursday and there were a million things to do at the office. He got on top of that as best he could.

  Sunday, he went with Corey and Erin to the same church they’d been married in. Afterward, Erin fixed them a big lunch at her and Corey’s new house.

  Erin, like most of the women in town, had become good friends with Lizzie. Ethan felt a little edgy the whole afternoon, waiting for Erin to start in about how wonderful Lizzie was.

  But Erin didn’t even mention Lizzie’s name.

  For some reason, his sister-in-law’s silence on the subject of the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about irked him even more than if she’d gone ahead and babbled about Lizzie constantly.

  After lunch, Corey suggested the two of them retreat to his study. They refilled their coffee cups and went into Corey’s office at the front of the house.

  Corey gestured at one of the leather easy chairs in a grouping near the tall front windows. “I gotta ask. You all right?”

  Ethan sat down and put his coffee on a waiting coaster. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  Corey went over and shut the door before taking the other chair. “You seem edgy. Like any minute you’re going to bite someone’s head off.”

  “I’m fine, got it? Fine.” He grabbed his coffee, took another sip.

  Corey shook his head. “Whatever you say.”

  “I mean, why shouldn’t I be fine? I’ve got it all.”

  “You certainly have.”

  “I should be happy as a bull in high clover.”

  Corey just looked at him.

  “What?” he demanded.

  And Corey did it. He said it out loud. “Well, yeah. You’ve got it all—except for Lizzie. You let her go.”

  Ethan considered how satisfying it would be to jump up, haul his brother out of that fat leather chair and bust him a good one right in the chops.

  Corey knew it, too. “Think about it. What good is it going to do you to hit me?”

  Ethan waved a hand and mumbled, “None. No good at all, but it’s still tempting.”

  “You’re in love with Lizzie, aren’t you?” Corey asked the question gently.

  For several seconds, Ethan refused to answer. He scowled at the far wall. But in the end, he came out with it. “Yeah.”

  “So why did you let her go?”

  He blew out a hard breath. “She really wants that bakery. I tried to hold her back at first, for my own selfish reasons. But the more I found out how much she means to me, the more I wanted her to have it, to have everything she ever wanted.”

  Corey made a snorting sound. “I’m not talking about the bakery, you idiot. I’m talking about you and her and what you’ve got together. The whole family—the whole town—knows how you feel about her. And how she feels about you. What you two have together is a rare thing. I’m asking you why you wanted to let that go.”

  Ethan groaned. “You’re serious? The whole town knows?”

  Corey only gave him a long, patient look.

  Finally, Ethan told him, “Lizzie’s a forever kind of woman. And you know me, I get nervous when a woman starts getting serious.”

  “You keep telling yourself that long enough, you’re bound to make it true no matter what.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you and Lizzie have it all. You started out working together, then you became the best of friends. And then, over time…more. How long has it been since you were with another woman?”

/>   Ethan shot his brother a lowering glance. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Just answer it. How long?”

  “I don’t know. Six months, maybe—no, wait. Seven.”

  “There’s been no one else in the last seven months.”

  “Didn’t I just say that?”

  “I was only making sure.”

  Ethan muttered darkly, “I hope you’re going somewhere important with this.”

  “Have you been thinking about going out with someone else since you and Lizzie called it quits?”

  Ethan picked up his coffee cup and plunked it down without drinking from it. “No, all right? No, I don’t feel like going out with anyone else. And is there a point you’re getting to here?”

  “Well, I’m only saying that it seems to me that you’re not acting like the player you keep insisting you are. Not anymore. You’re acting like a man who is serious over one particular woman. A man in love, which you have just admitted to me you are. A man who’s finally found someone so right for him that he doesn’t need to keep looking anymore. You’ve got all you want in Lizzie. But you’re so thickheaded that you went and sent her away.”

  Ethan opened his mouth to argue but then he shut it without a word. Why fight the truth? Corey had him nailed. He’d finally found the woman for him and Lizzie was that woman. It had taken him five years of knowing her to realize what he really wanted from her.

  Not someone to run his office. Not someone to keep his house. Not someone to bake his muffins or make sure his dinner was in the oven.

  What he wanted from Lizzie was…Lizzie. Just Lizzie.

  He wanted to spend his life with her.

  And yet he had turned her down when she’d offered him everything.

  He asked his brother in a voice rough with emotions he was only now starting to face, “You think she might take me back?”

  Corey grunted. “You’ll never know unless you try.”

  At eight o’clock Monday morning, the twenty-fifth of July, one week before her grand opening, Lizzie stood at the window in her living room and gazed down on Main Street. She sipped her morning coffee and felt a definite flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach.

  Five days from now. On Saturday morning, I’ll be opening the doors. It will be my first day, my grand-opening day…

  It seemed like a miracle, that it was really happening. There had been a thousand things to accomplish, and swiftly. Just getting all the necessary inspections and permits had been close to impossible, but she had done it. By driving herself relentlessly, every day, dawn to dark, she was making it happen. She would be ready on time.

  Yeah, okay. Her heart might be hurting. Every day without Ethan was a day with a sad little empty spot in the middle of it. But sometimes a woman just had to move on. And she was doing that. She had a lot to be grateful for: good friends, a beautiful little town to live in and her dream of her bakery at last coming true. She was determined to focus on the good things, of which there were plenty.

  Lizzie sniffed. With the heel of her hand, she brushed off the two lonely tears that had slid down her cheeks. It was okay, she told herself. Okay to cry a little. Sometimes a few tears helped to ease the pain.

  And then she gasped.

  A big SUV was driving by on the street below. Her heart bounced to her throat and her pulse started racing: Ethan.

  She said the beloved name aloud. “Oh, Ethan…”

  But he didn’t stop. He drove on by. From her angle at the window above him, she couldn’t tell if he glanced up toward where she stood, if he noticed the beautiful sign Allaire had made for her, hung just as she’d pictured it, by iron-lace hooks above the shop door.

  She leaned close to the window so she could watch until the SUV turned a corner and disappeared. And when it was gone, she rested her forehead against the glass. More tears fell. She wiped them away and was just about to go grab a tissue when she saw the small, black-haired woman coming up the street from Pine. The woman was not familiar. Lizzie couldn’t recall ever seeing her before.

  She stopped in front of the shop. She stared up at the sign over the door, a strange, stricken look on her heart-shaped face.

  After a moment or two, she started to walk away. But then she stopped, turned decisively on her delicate high heels and marched to the shop door.

  The door buzzer sounded in the apartment.

  Lizzie frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone. And the sign in the window made it clear she wasn’t open for business yet.

  The buzzer went off again. Lizzie turned, set down her coffee and headed for the door that led out to the stairs, grabbing a tissue from the box on a side table as she flew by.

  She pulled open the shop door. “Yes?”

  The tiny woman—she couldn’t have been more than four-foot-six or seven—gaped up at her. “Excusez-moi. I am wanting to speak with Aubert. Aubert Pelletier?”

  Lizzie realized who the woman reminded her of: her own darling maman. She had similar delicate features and dark, curly hair. “I’m sorry. He…well, he sold me this place a month ago. He doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “But…where has he gone?”

  “Back to France, I think his real estate agent said.”

  “Back to France…” The woman’s huge eyes seemed to get even bigger as tears welled up in them. She put her hand over her soft rosebud of a mouth.

  Lizzie made a snap decision. “Come in. Please.”

  “Oh, non, I am not here to bother you…”

  “Please.” Lizzie stepped back.

  The woman gave her a wobbly smile. She brushed a tear from her eye. “You have been crying, too, eh?”

  Lizzie drew in a shaky breath. “I’m Lizzie.”

  “And I am Colette.”

  Upstairs in the living room, Lizzie served coffee and fresh-baked croissants. And she kept the box of tissues handy.

  “I…left Aubert two months ago.” Colette dabbed at her wet eyes.

  “You were living with him here?”

  Colette nodded. “We met here. At the Hitching Post, down the street. I was staying at the resort, a little trip to America, to see the Wild West after a very messy divorce. That was in September of last year. He was a sad man. Trying to build a business here, longing for home. Aubert is from Paris. I’m from Lyon. Still, it was like magic with us, finding someone from home in this faraway place.”

  “You fell in love?”

  Colette nodded. “I moved in here, with him, above his bakery. For a while, we were so happy. He wanted me to marry him. I was…reluctant. I’d just broken free of a bad relationship. I wanted to remain free.”

  “Oh, I know how that goes…”

  Colette’s big eyes were so wise right then. “You have left someone, too, I think.”

  “Yeah. He was the one who wanted to be free. But still, same result, huh?”

  Colette seemed to draw herself up. “Oh, I hope not.” She set down her coffee cup. “Wonderful croissants.”

  “Thank you.”

  “As good as Aubert’s.”

  “I’m flattered. I understand he’s a very talented baker.”

  “He is.” Colette blew her delicate little nose. “And I love him. I want him. I want to be with him. To marry him.”

  Lizzie gave her a sideways look. “What about being free?”

  Colette tucked the tissue into her purse and made a flicking movement of her hand, a gesture that seemed to Lizzie to be supremely French. “I don’t want to be free of Aubert. I know that now. I came here today to tell him so.”

  “So…what will you do next?” Lizzie asked, although she’d already guessed the answer.

  “Go home,” said Colette. “Fly to Paris and find the man I love.”

  Lizzie sighed and pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Oh, now that is what I needed to hear.”

  “I will,” said Colette, rising. “I will go, I will find my love. And I will tell him that yes, I will marry him, I want to marry him.” Her slim shoulde
rs drooped a little. “I only hope I am not too late.”

  Lizzie stood up, too. “Don’t even think it,” she commanded. “It’s all going to work out beautifully. You’ll see.”

  “Ah, Lizzie. You give me hope.”

  “He’s going to be so thrilled to see you, so glad you’ve come back to him. I just know it. You’re going to be so happy together.”

  They went back down the stairs. Lizzie pressed a newly printed business card into Colette’s delicate hand. “Call me. Anytime you need encouragement. Don’t give up.”

  “Merci, Lizzie. You, too, must keep courage in your heart. May your lover realize what a fool he’s been and find his way back to you.”

  In the hectic days that followed, Lizzie often found herself thinking of Colette, hoping that the Frenchwoman had found her man, that Colette and Aubert were together in the city of love.

  Wednesday morning, as she sipped her coffee and stood at the front window, she saw Ethan’s SUV go by again. Her heart lifted—for a moment anyway.

  Until he drove on past just like before, without stopping, without even slowing down.

  She had started hoping. She couldn’t help it. Hoping Colette’s last words to her might come true. That he would see he’d been all wrong to let her go and find his way back to her. She even considered going to him, trying again to make it work between them…

  But what good would that do in the end? The basic problem remained. They simply did not want the same things out of life. She’d told him she loved him, told him exactly what she wanted from him. If he changed his mind, if he decided he wanted more than just a love affair, well, he knew where to find her.

  She turned from the window and went downstairs and got to work.

  Working helped. It helped a lot. By the end of the day, she was worn-out. She slept deeply and without dreaming. That was a blessing. If she couldn’t have Ethan, at least she didn’t have to dream of him at night.