Mountain Country Courtship

by Glynna Kaye

  He helped himself to a chip. “I completely agree.”

  “You’re certainly mellow today. Sure you’re feeling well?”

  “Feeling great.”

  “Hunter Ridge must be rubbing off on you.” She reached again for her sandwich. “Listened to any crickets lately?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Just feeling good today, I guess. Must be the company I’m keeping.”

  Surely he didn’t mean hers?

  “So you’ve spent time with your family while you’ve been here, then?”

  “Some. I’ve had several nice chats with Grandma Jo, Aunt Elaine and Uncle Dave. I usually stop by the inn in the evening to pick up something to call dinner and generally see somebody I’m related to in one way or another. But it’s not like they’re all over me. They’re giving me breathing room.”

  “You need that?”

  He nodded. “I may bear the name Hunter, but I’m pretty much a stranger to them and them to me. I’m not convinced that it’s time well spent to try to worm my way into their midst when I should be focusing on work at the inn.”

  “It’s a shame not to take advantage of being close to family when you’re in their backyard, so to speak. You know, like time with your dad.”

  Denny chuckled. “You mean my ultrasensitive father who didn’t think twice about loudly and publicly sharing his heartfelt condolences that his son had been dumped at the altar three months ago?”

  Lillian’s breath caught. This was the first time Denny had made reference to that, acknowledging he knew she’d heard his father’s tactless comment.

  “I’m sorry about your breakup. That had to be hard.” She hated to think of him grieving his fiancée’s abrupt departure. But then again, as she knew all too well, there was always more to the story. “If you don’t mind my asking, where is she now? Do you still keep in contact with her?”

  She was curious how other couples dealt with a situation like that. Cameron wanted nothing to do with her. He’d cut all ties.

  “Not directly. I did recently receive an invitation to Corrine and Vic’s upcoming wedding, though.”

  She frowned as she played through the little Denny had told her about his life in San Francisco, then gasped. “Vic. You don’t mean your stepbrother Vic, do you?”

  “That’s the one.” He popped a chip in his mouth.

  “He’s marrying your fiancée?”

  “Former fiancée.”

  “How could he do that to you?”

  Denny offered a shrug and a smile. “You’ve heard of all’s fair in love and—”

  “You find it humorous?”

  “It turned out for the best.”

  “How can you say that? And how can a brother show such little respect for you?”

  Annalise didn’t always have a high opinion of her big sister, but she’d never betray her like that.

  * * *

  Which was worse—never to have gained Vic’s respect, or to have thought all these years that he had Elden’s, only to discover that may have been a grand self-delusion?

  “In retrospect, Corrine and I weren’t that great of a match.”

  It wasn’t that they didn’t get along. But he could now see that their underlying motivation for the relationship was more about what the other could bring to the table. Almost like a business partnership. Or a political alliance. His growing professional reputation and connection to the prestigious Gyles family increased her social status. And he’d counted on her head-turning looks and people savvy to help smooth the corporate climb for him.

  “I know it’s hard to understand,” he continued, “how two people could get to their wedding day not recognizing that theirs wasn’t a match made in heaven. But take it from me—in the long run it’s been more humiliating than heartbreaking.”

  What would Lillian think of that confession?

  “It must have been difficult, though, to have someone claim to love you,” she said in a small voice, “then publicly turn her back on you.”

  “It wasn’t the high point of my day, no.”

  “I’m sorry, Denny. You didn’t deserve that.”

  He shrugged. “I’d like to think I didn’t, but I’ve never claimed to be perfect. From what she texted me that morning as I stood at the front of the church, she’d belatedly figured that out. ‘You are a hard man to love, Hayden Harrison Hunter.’”

  A whimper escaped Lillian’s lips. “That’s awful.”

  “But a truth that was direct and to the point.”

  She was silent a long moment, and he saw her sneak a look at her watch. So much for a working lunch, with him blathering on about Corrine doing him wrong like some popular Nashville singer.

  “While I’ve never been left at the altar,” she said carefully, “I do know what it’s like to break up with someone you thought you were committing to.”

  “A longtime boyfriend?”

  “A fiancé, actually.”

  “You were engaged? I’m sorry you had to go through that, Lillian. The guy had to be an idiot to let a woman like you get away from him.”

  She gave him an uncomfortable look. “It’s sweet of you to say that, but you hardly know me.”

  “I’m a good judge of character, though. I’m especially impressed with your love for your aunt and Taylor. Any kid would be fortunate to have you in their corner.”

  Likely any man, too, which made him resent her former fiancé. He couldn’t imagine a guy in his right mind breaking up with Lillian, deliberately hurting her.

  “So what happened?” She’d asked him personal questions. Turnabout was fair play, right?

  After a long silence, when he was almost ready to say “never mind” and apologize, she spoke.

  “I met Cameron here in Hunter Ridge when I came to see to Aunt Viola’s care after she broke her hip.”

  That was this year. Whoa.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I didn’t realize it was something so recent.”

  “You shared.” She offered a faltering smile. “I can, too.”

  He nodded for her to go on.

  “He’d been working in Boston, but lost his job and returned to his hometown to start fresh. It was a classic whirlwind romance. The wedding was set for the first Saturday in June.” Same day as he was to marry Corrine. “I’d quit my job in Phoenix, where I’d already taken a leave of absence, and we were making plans to call Hunter Ridge our home for the rest of our lives.”

  “And then?”

  “And then...Annalise dropped Taylor off a few days before the wedding.”

  Denny winced. “He didn’t want the kid around?”

  “Or Aunt Viola.”

  “So he walked? I’m sorry, Lillian. This is...” He shook his head.

  He and Lillian had more in common than he’d have ever guessed. He was willing to admit that while it hadn’t been a lot of fun, he in some ways deserved what Corrine had done to him. But what that idiot did to Lillian? No way did she deserve that.

  “You’re well rid of him, and never think differently.”

  “Thank you.”

  As if only just realizing she’d made such a personal confession to someone she’d recently met, Lillian wrapped up the remainder of her sandwich and stuffed it in her tote bag, then stood.

  “I’m late getting back to work.”

  He stood, as well. “Did you walk? I can drive you.”

  “No, thanks. I— No, thank you. I’m a fast walker. I’ll make up the time at the end of the day or go in early tomorrow.” She glanced down at the table. “Thank you for bringing lunch. And feel free to get sample cans and paint big swatches of our color choices to confirm, and get Aunt Vi’s opinion, too.”

  “Lillian—”

  “Gotta run. See you later.”

  * * *<
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  For the remainder of the afternoon until quitting time, Lillian’s head pounded, and she was grateful that it was a slow afternoon. Jeri was out, and she didn’t have to expend energy on small talk or anything much other than checking out and reshelving books.

  She hadn’t lied to Denny. Not exactly. But she hadn’t told the whole story, either. Why not get it over with and stop living in fear that he’d hear about her role in the breakup from someone else?

  But learning how Denny felt on the other end of being left standing at the church brideless brought home again what she’d done to Cameron. Had Cameron loved her at all? Had she broken his heart? Or had he, as in Denny’s situation, been more humiliated than desolate? Of course, Denny’s shrug-off was most likely a front he’d put on, unwilling to admit that a woman he’d cared for telling him he was difficult to love had hurt. Deeply.

  The timing was the same as her own situation—a mere three months ago. No wonder he kept himself so busy, buried in work. He probably didn’t want to think about what happened that day any more than she liked thinking about her own almost-wedding.

  “One that I canceled,” she said under her breath as she slipped another book into its spot on the shelf.

  Everyone in town knew what she’d done—except Denny Hunter.

  So it was with great relief that for the next week she was able to focus on her job at the library, picking up extra hours from another part-timer who’d gone on vacation and returning predominantly to communicating with Denny by text.

  It took tricky maneuvering to keep what she was doing from being obvious. But despite extensive collaboration on furniture selection, website and brochure ideas, and how to deliver the best experience for future guests, she managed to elude one-on-one time with him. Thankfully, she’d taken advantage of the presence of Todd’s crew with their increasingly lengthy hours, as well as Aunt Viola’s and Taylor’s company.

  And yet...while Denny’s texts were often cute and clever, she missed spending time alone with him.

  Taylor’s birthday was fast approaching, and Lillian and Aunt Viola had decided on a party with a handful of classmates who were most often in Taylor’s sphere at school and church. To Lillian’s relief, while not actually Taylor’s friends, at least they were a step above generic schoolmates.

  The party was only two days away, and her niece seemed to be settling down. But how much of that was due to Lillian’s efforts rather than to Denny’s undivided attention whenever they saw each other? Taylor clearly cared about him, and if she wasn’t mistaken, her feelings were returned tenfold.

  So odd. Denny hadn’t initially struck her as a family-man type. A lover of kids. And yet he welcomed her niece at every opportunity and had even pulled himself away from work to attend several of her soccer games. Amazingly, he hadn’t so much as glanced at his cell phone while there to cheer her on.

  But unexpected or not, Lillian wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, grateful for how Taylor seemed to be further adjusting. Lillian had promised her that tonight, following dinner and after they dropped off Aunt Viola at the church for a Bible study, they’d make cupcakes. Thankfully, despite a phone call from Barbie demanding that the accent colors on the reception tables be changed—again forgetting that was the caterer’s sphere—Lillian was relaxed and ready to spend the evening with her niece.

  “Be careful, there.” Lillian took Aunt Viola’s favorite big mixing bowl from Taylor, who had climbed up on a step stool to claim it from a cabinet.

  “I get to lick the bowl,” the little girl announced once she reached the bottom step and hopped excitedly to the floor.

  “You not only get to lick it, you get to pour in the ingredients, mix them and put them in the cupcake tins.”

  Taylor clapped her hands as Lillian retrieved the eggs, milk and other makings for several dozen of the treats and set them on the table where her niece could reach them. These days she seemed to be in higher spirits, happier, more like the little girl she’d once been. To Lillian’s delight, she and her niece had drawn closer as the weeks since her mother’s last visit faded into the past.

  Would Annalise put in an appearance for Taylor’s birthday?

  The possibility was troubling. Things were going so well right now. And yet Annalise was Taylor’s mother. She had a right to celebrate a special day with her daughter. Surprisingly, though, Taylor hadn’t speculated on that possibility. At least not aloud. Did she want her mother to come, but was afraid to get her hopes up?

  Lillian had left the door to the apartment open, enjoying the chatter of Todd’s work crew as they wrapped things up after an extra-long day.

  Todd was going above and beyond the call of duty for the Pinewood Inn. Yes, he was being paid well, but he doted on Aunt Viola, who was a good friend of his grandmother. And maybe doted a little on her, too?

  The ongoing renovation would be a perfect opportunity for them to get to know each other better. She did enjoy his company and sense of humor, and admired his work ethic. But despite Aunt Viola’s high hopes, there had never been that acute awareness on her part when he stepped into the room, that zing such as she’d felt with—

  “I get to crack the eggs,” a familiar male voice called from the apartment’s open doorway.

  Zing.

  Taylor squealed. “Mister!”

  She dashed across the room to where he swung her into his strong arms and carried her into the kitchen. “What are we making here, ladies?”

  “Birthday cupcakes! And you can help.”

  As he set Taylor on her feet, his eyes smiled uncertainly into Lillian’s, clearly questioning if he was welcome. Maybe her ploys to avoid him hadn’t been as subtle as she’d convinced herself they were?

  Her heart pounding erratically, she motioned to the table laden with everything needed for the baking extravaganza. “The more the merrier.”

  He grinned. “Show me what to do.”

  “First we need aprons.” Taylor opened a drawer of Aunt Viola’s finest. Lillian rarely wore an apron for cooking and felt rather old-fashioned when Taylor tied one covered with hearts around her waist, and a floral one around Denny’s.

  “I get the one with bunnies on it,” the little girl announced, backing up to Denny so he could tie hers in a big bow. Then she rabbit-hopped to the table. “Let’s go!”

  For over an hour, they took turns adding ingredients, mixing, filling red-and-white polka-dot baking cups with batter, and sliding the cupcake tins into a preheated oven, laughing the whole time.

  “Can we frost them tonight, Aunt Lillian? Some of them are cool.”

  “It’s getting late, and someone will be dropping off Aunt Vi pretty soon. We should probably get this mess taken care of before she gets home, or you know she’ll jump in and try to do the cleaning up.”

  “I wanted to frost them tonight. Please?” She looked up at Denny in appeal. “You can stay to frost them, can’t you, Mister?”

  His gaze met Lillian’s as it had countless times that evening. Smiling. Laughing.

  Questioning.

  “It’s up to you,” she responded to his unspoken query. “We can get started on the frosting in the fifteen to twenty minutes it takes this last batch to bake.”

  “Do I get to lick the bowl?” He cut a teasing look in her niece’s direction.

  Her smile wider than ever, Taylor took his hand. “You can share the bowl with me.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  Lillian pulled two more tins of golden cupcakes from the oven and placed them on stoneware trivets, then slid the last batch in.

  By the time they finished, she’d received a call from Aunt Viola that she’d be running late. The ladies’ group decided to take additional time to discuss the church’s annual Christmas project—brightening the season for unwed mothers in the region.

  With a little coaxing, Lillian got
Taylor to the bathroom and filled the tub with enough bubbles that she could play as she bathed. Leaving the door open a crack and promising to check on her in a few minutes, she returned to the kitchen to find Denny up to his elbows in dishwater.

  “You could have used the dishwasher.”

  “It’s full of dirty dishes. I couldn’t squeeze these big bowls or tins in there.”

  “My bad. I should have run it after dinner. Here, I can dry.”

  They worked in quiet companionship for a few minutes, Lillian keeping her ears tuned to the splashing and a happy song Taylor sang from the tub.

  Denny angled a look at her. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

  So he had noticed. Was that why he’d turned up here unannounced?

  “I could say the same for you. Between this project and your real job, I imagine you’re up to your eyeballs.”

  “Pretty much.” He scrubbed another cupcake tin, then handed it to her. “Taylor seemed to have a good time tonight. I can see a big difference in her since the day she garnered the courage to sell me a barbecue ticket.”

  “Things are going great.” She dried the tin and set it aside. “Maybe too great.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I haven’t heard anything from my sister, Annalise, for weeks. Not a peep. That leads me to believe she may decide to surprise Taylor on her birthday.”

  He dried his hands on his apron, untied it and then placed it on the counter. “Which means starting from ground zero all over again.”

  She pulled a magnetized photo frame from the front of the refrigerator to gaze down at it. Taylor and Annalise.

  “Your sister?”

  She nodded. “I know I shouldn’t be like this. I feel so selfish. But I don’t want her messing everything up again. Especially not on Taylor’s birthday, when we’re going to have her new friends over.”

  “That’s not selfish. That’s loving Taylor and wanting what’s best for her.”

  She put the photo back on the fridge. “Maybe.”

  “No maybes about it.” He studied her for a long moment. “Have you ever thought of seeking custody of her? Taking her in permanently?”