by Tracy March
Good God.
Carden chugged a few swallows of beer. “Last night I said I got carried away with you. When we were in my workshop, I—”
“It wasn’t just you.” Lindsey furrowed her brow. “I should’ve said no. I know better than to rush into something like that with a guy I barely know, but I let the loneliness get to me…the excitement.” She shook her head. “Such a strange combination.”
Carden could say the same for himself, but he didn’t. He could tell her about Amanda, but he wasn’t ready to go there…yet. “Is that all it was?” he asked, his tone gentle. “Loneliness and excitement?”
She looked away from him, focusing on the label on her beer bottle.
“I’m not being fair,” he said, “asking you that after the things I said.” He cleared his throat. “I did get carried away with you. Couldn’t help myself. And when I said it wouldn’t happen again…” He risked skimming his fingers up her smooth shin. “I hope I lied.”
“I’m confused,” she said, but didn’t pull away from his touch.
“So am I.” His heart thudded. “And I’m scared as hell. But I want to see where this goes.” He set his gaze on hers. “You?”
Lindsey tipped her head, met his gaze, and nodded.
He scrubbed his hand through his hair, giving himself something to do besides take her in his arms, which would probably be too much right now. Paint flecks fell from his hair onto his shoulder and Lindsey reached over and brushed them off his T-shirt.
“Man, I could use a shower.” He took a swallow of beer and set the bottle on the table. “Think I’m going to head out. How about I come back early tomorrow with my sander and get that done? Then I’ll take you on an adventure.”
“I’d say you have already.” She grinned wryly. “I need to be at the museum in the morning, but the afternoon works for me.”
Carden hitched his chin toward the kitchen. “Dig around in that basket. See if you can rustle up something tasty for a picnic.” He stood and drained his beer, wishing he could stay, knowing he should go.
Lindsey got up, took his bottle, and set it and hers, still nearly full, on the kitchen counter. She met him at the door and reached for the handle.
Carden clutched her wrist and stopped her from opening the door. He wasn’t leaving without a kiss, and that couldn’t happen outside. Smoothing his palm over her hand, he laced his fingers between hers, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it. Stepping closer to her, he swept a tendril of hair away from her face, and tucked it behind her ear. She held his gaze as he trailed his touch along the neckline of her T-shirt until his fingers caught lightly in the V. Heat pulsed through him, but he had to resist the urge to let himself go. He smoothed one finger down the velvety cleft between her breasts. Her breath hitched as his lips met hers—a wisp, a brush, a promise—leaving him longing for more.
He opened the door and said in a husky whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
—
Lindsey’s heart thrummed as she closed the door behind Carden, her head spinning from his simple but oh-so-sexy kiss.
I’ll take you on an adventure.
He’d asked her out on a date, right? Just one of at least fifty-two questions she had about what the heck was going on between them. Now she’d have time with him to get some answers—time she hadn’t thought she’d get.
Lindsey smiled so wide her teeth clenched, until she remembered she was related to the Karlssons. She’d have to continue keeping her identity under wraps. She and Carden had enough challenges without adding the fact that they happened to be from rival families, and he didn’t happen to know. How long could she keep her secret hidden?
And it wasn’t just hiding her secret that she had to be concerned about. Lindsey had to hide her relationship with Carden—whatever it was. Hopefully an adventure that included a picnic meant she and Carden would be going out of town. She couldn’t associate with him in Thistle Bend unless the situation appeared purely professional. It was way too risky to have Carden working on the cabin, but that was a deal he had made with Dean. By now, anyone who was interested had already heard about that.
Anyone, including Aunt Tansy and Uncle Oscar.
Lindsey should check in with them soon, have some killer fried chicken and visit. See if they mention Carden. But if they did, what would she tell them?
Clearly she had to find a solution, and that started with figuring out how to present the disputed land deal in the museum. If she could please everyone with that…
Lindsey’s heart sank. How could she possibly please everyone?
Milly and Merri seemed to have told her all they knew about the deal, and Lindsey had scoured the list of donations to the museum, looking for something that might reveal more. She glanced at the stack of books and papers on the coffee table—some that had been donated by people who wished not to be publically identified, and come straight to her from Darlene’s hands. Neither Tansy nor Stella had seen them, as far as Lindsey knew.
Lindsey pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Becca:
Got a date with a cowboy!
She’d hesitated to tell Becca anything about Carden before now. Becca had seen everything fall apart between Lindsey and Hopper. Lindsey knew she’d get more than a fair warning if she told Becca that Carden was one of Colorado’s most eligible bachelors, but Lindsey was dying to tell someone about him, even if she had to leave out the details.
Lindsey’s phone pinged.
Howdy, ma’am! Gimme the deets.
Tall, dark, handsome. SEXY.
Sweet. Has he got a brother?
Yes, but he’s engaged. Maybe a cousin. Fingers crossed!
Lindsey smiled as she walked over to the counter and picked up her beer. Ruby Eileen gazed at her from atop the mountain of goodies in the basket from Milly and Merri. Lindsey clutched the bear, carried it over to the coffee table, and set it down, facing the couch. Might as well have a little company while she worked.
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and find something,” she said, quickly questioning her state of mind. Now she was talking to a teddy bear.
Lindsey lowered herself onto the couch, choosing the papers instead of the books. She took a sip of beer and started reading, learning plenty about the early residents of Thistle Bend, but nothing that seemed relevant to the land deal. She kept at it for a couple of hours, jotting down exhibit ideas and fun facts. But those weren’t what she’d been looking for. Staring at the pages, she took the last swallow of her now-room-temperature beer.
If I don’t find out what really happened, what will I do?
She picked up the next stack of old papers, tied with twine. Tiny splinters of fiber puffed into the air as she untied the string. Town of Thistle Bend, Colorado 1880–1883 was handwritten on the first page in the stack. She flipped through the aged pages, finding faded, alphabetized records of early real estate holdings. Turning to the K’s, she found Brooks Karlsson, Uncle Oscar’s great-grandfather. She brushed her fingers over the page, amazed she was connected—however tenuously—with this long-gone man from Thistle Bend. He and his relatives were an age-old branch of her family tree. Maybe this would bring her closer to feeling as if she belonged.
She flipped back to the C’s, and found two records for Crenshaws—a Y. S. Crenshaw, and an R. E. Crenshaw.
R.E.?
Lindsey’s heart stammered. She locked her gaze on the teddy bear staring back at her, on the R.E. monogram on its paw. “Ruby Eileen Crenshaw?” Lindsey turned her attention back to the records to find that R. E. Crenshaw had owned a huge parcel of land.
Purchased in 1882 from Warner Montgomery III.
Lindsey grabbed a binder from the table that had a record of influential people the board had recommended to be featured in the Movers and Shakers exhibit—people who had shaped Thistle Bend. R. E. Crenshaw was listed, with a short biography that confirmed R. E. as the person who’d purchased the land that was “mined for coal, silver, molybdenum, and lapis, providing jo
bs for many people in Thistle Bend.” Lindsey, or one of her assistants, would eventually write a more detailed biography of each person, but that’s what she’d had to go on for R. E. Crenshaw.
She’d read the name in other historical accounts, but assumed she’d been reading about a man. Maybe she had been, and maybe it didn’t make a difference either way, but it would sure make the land deal mystery more interesting if R. E. Crenshaw was a woman.
Furrowing her brow, Lindsey stared at the stuffed bear. If R. E. Crenshaw and Ruby Eileen were the same person, why hadn’t Milly and Merri said so?
Chapter 16
Lindsey braced herself in the passenger seat, and pulled her Nats cap snugly onto her head as the open-topped, four-wheel-drive Jeep jostled up a rocky incline. Behind the wheel, Carden glanced at her, grinning lazily as they topped a hill and a stunning view came into focus.
“Oh. My. God,” she said loudly, hoping he’d hear her above the whisk of the wind and the hum of the engine. Sunbeams highlighted a panorama of rugged peaks that stretched as far as she could see. She had a full view—all the way to the ground since the doors had been removed from the Jeep.
Carden reached over and squeezed her thigh. “Just wait.”
Lindsey smiled, high with anticipation, loving her backcountry roller-coaster ride. Loving being with Carden.
He maneuvered a sharp curve, and guided the Jeep down a rugged hill through an Aspen grove, the temperature turning cooler in the shade. Moments later, they splashed across a bumpy, running stream, Lindsey’s seatbelt the only thing keeping her from being tossed into the water. Cool droplets sprayed up on both of them and she gasped. Carden laughed, free and easy. She’d never seen him so relaxed.
“Hungry?” he asked as the Jeep creaked over a trail of exposed roots.
Lindsey nodded.
Carden pointed up the super-steep trail they were climbing—hardly wide enough to be called a road. “Killer picnic spot ahead.”
She gave him the thumbs-up, trying to appear calm. The Jeep was positioned at such a wicked angle that every time it hesitated over a boulder and rocked, she worried they might go tumbling backward down the hill. Lindsey’s heart revved along with the engine, enjoying the perfect mix of thrilled and terrified. Her relationship with Carden seemed very similar—rocky and steep, with the threat of tumbling backward at any time. Especially if he found out she was related to the Karlssons.
Today she planned to ask him about the land deal and the feud, and about R. E. Crenshaw. Another one of his SparkNotes history lessons might bring her closer to figuring out what had really happened—and the two of them moving on from there. At least that’s what she hoped. But she had to be careful of every word. The slightest mistake might give him a hint that she was hiding something.
After negotiating one last run of roots and boulders, over which the Jeep nearly bottomed out, the trail leveled off into a bumpy path and dead-ended in a clearing. As Lindsey took in the view, Carden put the Jeep in park and cut the engine.
“Stop,” she said, pleased that she’d learned to identify some wildflowers. The view dazed her with dense swatches of purple lupine in the clearing, contrasting with bright yellow butter-and-eggs flowers and pink parry primrose—even delicate Queen Anne’s lace.
“I just did,” Carden teased.
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “I mean the view. The flowers, the mountains. And the sky is so blue. The place doesn’t even look real.”
“Real enough for a picnic?”
She nodded, trying to remember when she’d been this excited about a meal. Carden grabbed the cooler out of the back, and she got the blanket and her tote bag from behind her seat. He led her toward the edge of the clearing, giving the view some tough competition, and coming out on top. His sturdy shoulders tapered to his narrow waist, his jeans hugging his hips just right. His long-legged swagger was as sexy in hiking boots as it was in cowboy boots, and that was saying something. Add the long-sleeved T-shirt that matched his eyes, and Lindsey was a goner…again.
He stopped in a picture-perfect spot. “How about here?”
Lindsey swept her gaze from left to right. “Nothing but gorgeous as far as I can see. I love it.” She spread the blanket on the ground and noticed a logo embroidered in one corner. “ ‘Dragonfly Anglers.’ You like to fish?”
“With my brother, Travis.” He tipped his head toward the logo and sat on the blanket. “He owns the place. Sells fly fishing equipment. He’s also a guide. Knows fishing like I know…fixing things.”
Lindsey grinned, joining him on the blanket. “I’d agree that you’re an expert.” She took paper plates and cups out of her tote.
Pulling a bottle of wine from the cooler, Carden shook his head, a hint of an aw-shucks look on his scruffy face. “I wouldn’t say that. But I know more about fixing things than I do about wine.” He reached into his pocket, came out with a Swiss Army knife, and started cutting the seal off the wine bottle. “This is Gran’s favorite pinot grigio. I keep a few bottles handy in case I need to calm her down.”
“Good thinking.” Lindsey decided to leave the subject at that. Despite Stella’s diminutive size, she was clearly large and in charge. Lindsey shuddered to think about how Stella would react if she found out that Lindsey was Oscar and Tansy’s great niece. No amount of wine would dull that shock.
Forget about Stella. What about Carden?
Lindsey forced a pleasant look onto her face. “Any other brothers or sisters?”
He flipped out the corkscrew attachment on his knife and opened the wine like a seasoned sommelier. There wasn’t much the guy couldn’t do with his hands. Lindsey’s breath hitched just thinking about the grip he’d had on her hips when she’d been up on his workbench. The coarse wisp of his calluses, and the tender touch of his fingertips.
“It’s just me and Travis,” he said after she’d nearly forgotten the question. “But I’m getting a sister-in-law soon.”
“Aw, that’s cool. When’s the wedding?”
He poured wine into two cups and handed her one. “According to the countdown calendar he keeps on his desk, we’re seven days away.”
“He keeps a countdown calendar on his desk? That’s adorable.”
Carden gave her a sidelong look. “If you say so.” He shook his head. “My little brother.”
“Oh,” she said, drawing it out. “You’re talking about Travis and Emily, who were the hundredth couple to get engaged at The Canary during its hundredth year.” Her nerves kicked up the moment she mentioned The Canary.
“They’re the ones.” He handed her a cup of wine, cool against her fingers.
She lifted it in a toast. “Here’s to Travis and Emily—and happily ever after.”
He clicked his cup against hers and they drank.
Lindsey savored the wine, cool and fruity, but not too sweet. “Their engagement is slated to go into the Memories and Milestones section of the museum. We even have the original notarized document certifying them as couple one hundred.”
“The Karlssons weren’t too happy about that turn of events,” he said. “Tansy came out of the kitchen right then and there and claimed there’d been an error. Travis and the other diners set her straight. A Crenshaw earned a historic distinction in the Karlssons’ restaurant, and she had to admit it in front of everyone. Wish I could’ve been there to see it.”
Lindsey bolstered herself with a deep breath of thin air, but her lungs didn’t feel quite full. “So the feud between the Crenshaws and the Karlssons is alive and well?”
He shrugged. “It’s not as fiery as it once was, but the embers stay hot. They still call us a bunch of thieves. Talk like that sparks a flame every so often.”
Lindsey winced, recalling Tansy’s declaration. The Crenshaws stole our land deal, and those thieves have been living on the spoils ever since. She’d yet to hear Carden or Stella insult the Karlssons like that, but the Crenshaws had fared better in the deal—no reason to be bitter when you came out on top. But acc
ording to Merri and Milly, the Karlssons had been sore losers from the start.
“They keep the debate going in town,” Carden said, “poking the fire. Once in a while, we’ll poke back. Like when Travis and Em got engaged at The Canary. Score one for the Crenshaws.”
Lindsey furrowed her brow, seeing the divide between families even more clearly—feeling it. “Have any of you ever gotten along?”
Carden shook his head and crinkled his nose. “Not in this century. Or the last, from what I know.” He put his knife back in his pocket. “Probably never will.”
Lindsey took a too-big swallow of wine and handed Carden a sandwich.
“What have we got here?” he asked.
“Country ham, brie, and apple slices with dijonnaise on French bread.” She examined hers, pleased that the apples hadn’t turned brown.
“These were in the basket from the Montgomery sisters?”
She shook her head. “I made them. But I brought some treats from the basket, too.” She lifted a plastic bowl from her tote, took off the lid, and held it out for him to smell.
Carden leaned in and inhaled. “Mmm…Peach salsa with cilantro and lime. Best you’ll ever eat.”
“We’ll need some chips.” She pulled out a crinkly bag of tortilla chips and opened it. “Milly and Merri said the Crenshaws and the Karlssons were close before the land deal.”
Carden dipped a chip in the chunky salsa and brought it to her mouth. Lindsey’s heart hiccuped, remembering him feeding her ice cream and where that had led. She ate the chip and salsa—zesty, tangy, and fresh—another amazing taste sensation created by Milly and Merri.
“Yum,” she said, debating whether to dip a chip and feed it to him and deciding it was best not to. She couldn’t allow the subject of their families’ feud to get lost in a salsa seduction.
“That was ancient history,” he said, “when the Karlssons and the Crenshaws got along.” He dipped another chip in the salsa and ate it.