by Liz Isaacson
“Oh, you’ve done it now,” Zach said, and Celia looked up from the circle of dogs. He wore such happiness on his face, making him twice as handsome as he already was. “You shouldn’t have fed them. They won’t leave you alone now.”
She nodded toward the five plates on the floor. “I suppose you would know.” She cocked her eyebrows at him, hoping it came off as flirtatious and not challenging. “And you said you didn’t cook.”
“Well, I know how to scramble an egg,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I want to do it.”
“I talked to Graham at the lodge,” she said. “I can come on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, if you really want me to cook for you.” She still wasn’t sure what Zach’s motives were.
“I do,” he said quickly. “What do you do? Dinner? Lunch?”
“Whatever you want,” she said. “I get reimbursed for all my groceries, and I’m not cheap, Mister.” She pressed one palm against his chest, freezing in that moment.
He looked down at her hand and then back into her eyes, something sizzling striking the space between them. “I can pay you,” he said. “Name the price.”
Celia’s mind had gone blank.
“Do you cook for dogs too?”
The question snapped her back to reality, and she giggled. Actually giggled, as if she were a much younger woman. She knew she wasn’t, though, and that caused her to step back from Zach, taking her hand with her.
“I can cook for the dogs,” she said. “Are they picky?”
“Absolutely not,” Zach said, taking a micro-step closer to her, as if he felt the chill Celia did now that she wasn’t touching him. “I’m not either, by the way.”
“You’ll get to keep all the leftovers,” she said. “It’s your food. So I can come make lunch on Tuesdays. That should get you through to Thursday night. I could do dinner then. And then come for lunch or dinner on Saturday.”
A beat of silence filled the expansive kitchen before he said, “What about both on Saturdays?”
Celia’s gaze flew to his again, and plenty of desire waved at her from within the depths of his dark eyes. She couldn’t help seizing onto it. Memorizing this way he looked at her. No one had looked at her like this for so, so long.
Of course, she hadn’t dated. She’d chosen the life she’d had, and she knew it. She also knew what she’d just chosen tonight. And for the foreseeable future.
“Let’s leave Saturday open,” she said. “Any of it is changeable. If you find you don’t want me to come as often, that’s okay too.”
Zach reached out and touched her fingers, sending a pulse of heat up her arm. “I want you to come as often as possible.”
Celia’s head swam with the nearness of him. The strong scent of his cologne. The roughness of his hand as he fully took hers in his. “Is this crazy?” she asked, her voice breathless. She felt a little crazy, just as she had for the long drive here.
She usually stayed up at the lodge for the full afternoon, enjoying the children as they played. She liked having adult conversations and being involved in everyone’s life. They treated her like their own mothers, and she loved everyone who came to the lodge.
But today, she’d felt the need to leave and come see Zach. Spend more time with him. Satisfy the craving and see if it went away, or if it would grow.
And right now, she definitely felt it growing. Expanding and seething within her until she laid her cheek against his chest.
He brought his other arm around her, resting his hand lightly on her waist. A blip of self-consciousness moved through her, as she knew she wasn’t the thinnest woman around. After all, she had to taste everything she made. But Zach didn’t recoil from her.
“If it’s crazy,” he whispered. “I don’t care.”
In that moment, Celia didn’t either. Her family wasn’t here. His wasn’t either. And for a few minutes, it felt like maybe they could be together on this farm, in this town.
He cleared his throat and stepped back, and a rush of awkwardness moved through Celia. “So there are three bedrooms on this level,” he said. “Let me show you.”
He took her back down the hall toward the front door. “Library over there. I was doing a puzzle when you arrived. There’s a bathroom right next door.” He turned to the other side of the hall. “Two bedrooms here, with another bathroom between them.” He faced her. “You can sleep in either of these. My kids stay here when they come.”
“How often do they come?”
“Not that often,” he said with a smile. “But I think the rooms are decently clean, and I always put on clean sheets after someone stays, so they’re ready whenever anyone needs them.”
“So organized,” she teased, and she slipped her hand back into his as he turned to go down a hall.
“Living room, obviously,” he said. “Only this main level is finished. The basement is empty.”
“It’s pretty big,” she said.
“Three thousand square feet,” he said. “And it’s just me. Well, and the dogs.” He paused in the doorway. “This is my room. Bathroom to the left. Big closet back there that could probably be another bedroom.”
“Probably.” She chuckled, but she didn’t go inside. His bed was made, and that spoke volumes about a man.
“I have a huge deck that’s really nice in the summer,” he said, taking her back into the living room, where he had two comfortable-looking couches. “The yard’s decent. Farm back there.” He nodded out the windows, but the storm obscured anything she might have been able to see.
“This is nice,” she said. “Different than where you grew up.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “No one wants to have to fight for the single bathroom.” He grinned at her. “Sometimes I can’t believe we really only had one bathroom in our whole house. Even my parents used it.” He shook his head like such a thing was unfathomable, and Celia just smiled at him.
“My place is much smaller than this,” she said, suddenly nervous for him to ever come to her house.
“I can’t wait to see it,” he said. “Maybe after we’ve told everyone about us.”
“Maybe,” she said. “I don’t quite know how to start that conversation with my brothers.” She moved into the kitchen, Zach going with her. She resumed the slicing of the rolls and reached for the tongs to stir the meat. “This is ready.” She glanced up at him. “Are you hungry?”
“Always,” he said, beaming at her.
Warmth filled Celia. She could feed people. She knew she was good at it, and she derived great joy from doing it. So she got to work getting down plates and pulling out silverware in Zach’s kitchen while he sat at the bar and watched her.
When she finally sat down next to him, he took her hand in his again and lifted it to his lips. “I’m so glad you came,” he said.
“Me too,” she said. “Thanks for letting me stay here tonight, too.”
“Mm.” He gazed at her, and strange and new emotions spiraled through Celia. “I’ll pray,” he said next, and she took the excuse to close her eyes. She needed to figure out what all of these things inside her heart and mind meant, and fast.
Reagan would know, and Celia determined to call her daughter the moment she was alone.
Later that night—Celia finally sat up as the movie ended. “I should get to bed.”
Zach yawned too, but he stayed right where he sat on the couch. “You’ve got everything?”
“Nothing to get, right?” She gave him a soft smile, as it was much later than she normally stayed up. At least she had Grizz with her, so she didn’t have to worry about who would take care of him while she was snowed in.
“I put a new toothbrush in the bathroom,” he said. “Toothpaste too. Towels in there. Everything is set in the bedroom.” He smiled at her too, and Celia’s mind went into overdrive. Fantasies of kissing him drove through her imagination, and she was eternally glad he couldn’t read minds.
“Thanks. See you in the morning.”
“No rush to get up,” he
said. “I think the storm has pretty much decided to stay here and drop everything it has.”
“Probably.” She pushed herself up and started across the room, her legs protesting at the movement. She felt and surely looked like an old lady, but she didn’t turn back. Embarrassment heated her face, but she didn’t care. Behind her, Zach groaned as he got up, and the sound made her smile.
He wasn’t terribly young either.
She brushed her teeth and ran the water hot to wash her face. Once alone behind the locked door of the bedroom, she pulled out her phone. Thankfully, she kept a charging cable in her car, and Zach had loaned her a plug.
It was just after ten o’clock, but somehow it felt so much later than that. The last several hours with Zach felt like a dream, so far removed from her reality, she wasn’t sure she’d lived them.
Can I call you real quick? She sent the message zipping across the miles to her daughter Reagan.
Sure. I’m up.
Of course she was. Reagan had always been a night-owl, something Celia had never truly appreciated until that moment.
Her nerves zipped along her skin as the phone rang, and then her daughter said, “Heya, Momma. What’s up?” Music played in the background, but it wasn’t the club kind. Less harsh, and definitely less bass.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Celia said, suddenly feeling foolish.
“You don’t know?” Reagan gave a short laugh. “Right. Did you go out with that guy and now you’re worried about it?”
“No,” Celia said, though her daughter had gotten part of it right. “I mean, not really worried. I wouldn’t say worried.”
Reagan laughed again, longer and with more happiness this time. “Mom, start at the beginning.”
Celia did, but she went fast, only taking a few moments to talk about lunch at the diner. She moved on to Zach asking her to be his personal chef, and her insane desire to see him that very day.
“And now I’m snowed in at his place, and I don’t know, Rae.” She exhaled heavily. “I don’t know how I feel.”
“Who says you have to know?” Reagan asked. “Mom, it’s called dating.”
“I just haven’t done anything like this in so long.” Celia’s desperation came through in every syllable. “I mean, is it normal to want to spend a lot of time with him? What if I’m smothering him?”
“Mom, this is totally normal. You like him, and you want to get to know him. You’re not smothering him. He feels the same way you do.”
“He does?”
“Yes,” Reagan said with a chuckle. “Mom, he didn’t want to hire you as his personal chef. He wanted to see you more often.”
Celia had known that. “So should I not take the job?”
“Do you need the job?”
“No.”
“Then, no, Mom. Don’t take the job. Simply tell him you’ll come cook for him whenever he wants, and then do that.”
Celia looked around at the generic furnishings in the room. It almost felt like a hotel, with a watercolor of flowers on the wall and soft linens on the bed. She wasn’t sure what she was searching for, but she knew it wasn’t in this room.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Thanks, Rae. Love you.”
“Just be you, Mom,” Reagan said. “It’ll all be fine.” They said good-bye and hung up, but Celia didn’t put her phone away.
She fired off a text to Zach. I don’t want to be your personal chef.
Swallowing, she hurried to type out the rest of the message. I’ll just come make you lunch or dinner whenever you want. Sound good?
Her phone indicated that he was typing. Then that message went away. Her phone buzzed in her hand.
Zach was calling her.
Chapter Eight
“You don’t want the job?” he asked, knowing Celia had taken the bedroom right on the other side of the wall where he stood. He’d designed the house with his architect, and if he stood in the corner of the room beside his bathroom, eight inches away sat the nightstand he’d put in the guest bedroom where Celia was staying.
Eight inches.
So close, and yet so far away.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “You don’t need to pay me to come spend time with you.”
“I’m not,” he said instantly. “I’m paying you to come cook for me. You don’t want me to buy the groceries?”
“Zach,” Celia said, her voice serious and even. He wished he could see her face. Touch her cheek. Hold her close, like he’d done while they watched a movie together on his couch. Two of them, in fact.
She’d made popcorn, and he’d brought in a huge container of chocolate ice cream from the freezer in the garage. It had been one of the very best Sunday evenings of his life.
“Celia,” he said.
“I don’t think you really want a private chef.”
He didn’t, but he didn’t want to admit it. So he remained silent. She seemed like she had something to say anyway.
“I just want to spend time with you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Not in Coral Canyon.”
“That’s what I was trying to do,” he said. “Give you a reason to come up here without it seeming like you were running off to see your secret boyfriend.” He pulled in a breath. Had he just said the word boyfriend? Out loud?
He felt way too old to bear the label of boyfriend. And yet, he really wanted to be Celia’s boyfriend.
She’d asked earlier if their relationship was crazy, and Zach hadn’t thought so then. But now, he felt a little insane for his thoughts. He’d met this woman a week ago. Sure, he’d known her growing up. Sort of. She was an Abbott, and he hated them all on principle.
“It’s a good reason,” she admitted. “Logical.”
“If you don’t want me to pay you, fine,” he said. “I’ll still pay for the groceries, and I’d love to see you….” He cleared his throat. He wanted to see her every day. But it was a long drive from Dog Valley to Whiskey Mountain Lodge. He knew. He’d done it for the wedding.
“Whenever you can come,” he finished lamely. “And I can come to Coral Canyon, Celia. We won’t be able to hide forever.”
“I know,” she said. “But I want to talk to my brothers first.”
“That’s fine,” he said, repeating something they’d already talked about over pulled pork sandwiches. He was going to feel out Owen. Learn more about the feud. She was going to do the same on her side of the line. See what Mack and Lennox had to say. Find out if the animosity between the two families had diminished at all now that her father had passed.
Their plans had all sounded great with barbecue sauce and coleslaw.
“Okay,” she said. “That was all. I just…I told you hadn’t dated since Brandon. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He chuckled, his affection for this good woman soaring. “You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night,” she said, and Zach hung up, fierce imaginations of kissing her right after she said that next time.
Next time, he promised himself.
He plugged in his phone, another yawn coursing through his whole body. Owen wouldn’t be awake. He’d told Celia she could call early but not late, and such was the life of a farmer. He texted his brother anyway.
Would love to come see you this week and catch up. When’s a good day?
Zach gripped the steering wheel as he went up the canyon to Whiskey Mountain Lodge. The snow had relented during the night, but Celia’s small sedan couldn’t handle the eight inches Wyoming had taken.
His truck could, however, and he’d driven her to the lodge for the day. The ride had been full of conversation and smiles, and Zach hadn’t even realized that almost an hour had passed.
As the lodge came into view, Celia said, “I can be done any time after three,” she said. “Do you want to just text me?”
“Sure,” he said, feeling the truck slide a bit as he drove into the parking lot. The lodge had steam drifting up from a pipe in the roof, b
ut otherwise, it looked calm and quiet. “I’m talking to Owen today.”
He pulled under the overhang that protected the front door of the lodge and put the truck in park.
“Are you—what are you going to tell him?”
Zach sighed. “I haven’t worked it all out yet.” He glanced at her, a playful smile on his face. “I think I might just generally see what he thinks about Abbotts in general.”
Celia nodded, tight lines appearing around her eyes. Zach knew the worries of parenthood, and he could see the years she’d spent laboring with her daughters right there on her face. He wondered what each line held exactly, and he hoped he could find out.
In that moment, he didn’t much care what his brother thought of his new girlfriend. “And besides,” Zach said. “You’re not even an Abbott anymore.”
Their eyes met again, and she said, “I have been an Armstrong for a while now.”
But Zach knew the technicality wouldn’t matter. Owen would still see Celia as the daughter of the Abbotts, a family all Zuckermans were raised to loathe.
“Shouldn’t we forgive?” he asked, only realizing when he heard his voice that he’d spoken out loud.
Celia reached over and touched his hand, and Zach easily slid his fingers through hers. The motion felt natural and beautiful, and he squeezed, trying to take every comfort he needed.
“I mean, this feud is stupid. We’re Christians. Shouldn’t we have forgiven whatever it was long ago?” He looked at her, truly wanting to know what she thought.
“Perhaps,” she said gently. “But we don’t even really know what the feud is about.”
“It was about some land that borders both properties,” Zach said, searching his memories. “And water rights.”
“Then you know more than me.” She removed her hand from his and took a deep breath. “Okay, I better go in before Beau comes to see why I’m just sitting here.” She gave him a pretty smile, picked up her purse, and opened the door. A blast of cold air entered, and she muttered against it.
Zach’s happiness swelled as he watched her walk to the door and look back at him. He raised his hand to say a silent good-bye, and she smiled again before entering the lodge. He stayed in the truck for another minute, basking in the atmosphere here at this canyon lodge.