SHEILA MACINTOSH IS HEAD OVER HEELS FOR BEN JACOBS
But they haven’t spoken since his sister Courtney’s wedding last summer. Now that they’re back together again on Courtney’s Montana ranch, Sheila’s wondering if she only imagined that Ben cared for her—and their time together was just a beautiful dream.
Ben’s crazy about Sheila, but he’s too shy to tell her, and he’s praying for another chance to win her affections. Can this sweet computer expert overcome his shyness and show her that sometimes dreams really do come true?
Leaving their horses, they’d walked a little ways up the trail to get a better view of the valley.
Being the total geek bookworms they both were, they’d spent their time debating about who created stronger characters, Hemingway or Fitzgerald.
She’d smiled, finding it hard to entirely focus on what he was saying as she gazed into those thoughtful, gold-flecked eyes. He’d caught her looking at him and returned her smile. The way his expression became serious made her think for a moment that he’d wanted to kiss her.
Alarmed, she’d turned away, a decision she had instantly regretted but had later come to appreciate. “I… I’ll have to read it again.”
He’d cleared his throat, seeming a little embarrassed. “I think I saw it on a shelf back at the house. We should look.”
Returning to the present moment, she swallowed a cube of pear practically whole. Now, just like then, his deep hazel eyes pooled with hopefulness, and he looked like the adorable guy who loved great literature as much as she did and had stolen her heart last summer.
Books by Lesley Ann McDaniel
Love Inspired Heartsong Presents
Lights, Cowboy, Action
Big Sky Bachelor
Rocky Mountain Romance
LESLEY ANN McDANIEL
Though she’s a Montana girl at heart, Lesley Ann McDaniel now resides in the Seattle area. She juggles a career in theatrical costuming with writing women’s and young-adult fiction, along with homeschooling her two daughters. In her spare time she chips away at her goal of reading every book ever written.
Lesley Ann McDaniel
Rocky Mountain Romance
In memory of my dad, Leo Even, whose quiet support has been an ever-present blessing in my life.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 1
If everything had gone as planned, Sheila Macintosh would have left for the L.A. airport half an hour ago. Instead, she stood in her office, pacifying her frayed nerves with jelly beans and waiting for the printer to spit out the last pages of her design analysis. Why had she allowed herself to cut it this close?
Sheila loved her job as a designer for one of the leading restaurant design firms in Los Angeles, but the responsibility came at a price. She’d put in extra hours for the past month to cover her bases for her upcoming two weeks off. There was nothing like preparing for a vacation to make a girl feel like she needed a vacation.
Tapping her hands on the output tray as if that might actually speed things along, she allowed a fleeting glance through the window at the hazy Hollywood Hills. In just a few short hours, she’d be at the Bar-G Ranch in Thornton Springs, Montana, helping her best friend, Courtney, prepare for the arrival of her first baby. A tingle of anticipation danced across her shoulder blades.
She shuddered. The anticipation, she had to admit, wasn’t entirely positive.
Ever since she’d heard Courtney’s baby news last summer, a part of her had been secretly resisting this trip. Her last visit to Montana, for Courtney’s wedding nearly a year ago, hadn’t ended well. Nevertheless, she was determined to keep her senseless anxiety at bay and return to Thornton Springs. That was the least she could do for her dearest friend.
And “senseless” it was. The source of her concern wouldn’t even be there this trip. She’d made certain of that. No one else even knew what had happened, so her secret was safe.
Why was she even letting it get to her?
As the final page popped out of the printer, she snapped it up and checked her watch. Ten o’clock already? If she hustled to take care of her last little details, she’d still be able to make it to LAX on time. If the L.A. traffic cooperated—and that was always a big if.
As she swooped over to her desk, her cell phone buzzed and she gave it a quick glance. Kevin. All rational thinking skidded to a halt, colliding with a strange sense of obligation. It was great that he took the time from his workday not only to think of her but also to touch base. But the clock was ticking.
Nervously noting her to-do list, she hit Speaker and started to fit the design pages into a report cover. “Hi, Kevin.”
“Hello, beautiful.” His voice was like velvet. “Are you at the airport yet?”
“I wish.” As pleased as she was to hear from the man she’d been seeing for the past few weeks, she was in too much of a hurry to relax into a conversation. “I haven’t even gotten out of the office yet.”
“Oh. Really? Well...I suppose you can still make it.” The words were thick with the implication that she was being overly optimistic. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you decided to postpone your trip.”
“Aw, that’s sweet, Kevin.” She clicked the report cover shut. “But you know Courtney’s counting on me.”
“Mmm.” The noncommittal sound held a subtle edge of pique. “So I can’t talk you out of leaving, huh?”
A hint of flirtation in his plea invited her to take her mind off work, which would only compound the problem. She flicked her computer screen out of nap mode. “’Fraid not.”
“Fine.” He heaved a small sigh. “But don’t worry. Two weeks will fly by like you never even left.”
Somehow that didn’t sound as reassuring as she knew he meant it to. It was her hope that the two weeks would stretch out luxuriously.
She reminded herself to be grateful for Kevin’s attentiveness. Her heart had been stomped on more than once by guys who’d started out great and ended up anything but. She’d resolved not to allow that to happen to her again. Kevin seemed to be a true candidate for Mr. Right, and she needed to remind herself not to push him away because of her lingering resentment over a few bad apples.
“Kevin, I really appreciate your call, but I need to get going.” Leaning over her keyboard, she pulled up the spreadsheet that corresponded with the design she’d just completed and began typing in some final notes for her assistant. “I promise I’ll call when I land in Montana, okay?”
“You’d better.” His voice held a touch of playful admonishment. “And text me the address of the place where you’re staying. I want to send you something.”
“Something for Courtney’s baby?” Only half attending to the conversation now, she continued to type.
“Nnno.” He drew out the single syllable. “Something for you.”
His emphasis on the last word both pleased and frightened her. She wasn’t ready for any meaningful gifts that might involve making major decisions. “You know you don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I want to be sure you’re thinking about me.”
Words suddenly failed her. Sure, she’d think about him, but his presence in her life was still really new. She didn’t expect to keep
him at the forefront of her mind while she was away.
Still, she hadn’t dated anyone in a long time, and at twenty-seven, her hope of getting married and starting a family was definitely something she should start taking seriously.
Closing the spreadsheet, she picked up her phone and switched it off Speaker as she drew it to her ear. “I’ll look forward to seeing you when I get back.”
“I’m glad.” His voice quivered almost imperceptibly. “Let’s plan on going to that new restaurant you’ve been working on. The one with the aquarium.”
She heaved out a sigh. The Abbott account. As a restaurant designer, she’d found the elaborate plan for that high-end seafood restaurant to be the toughest she had ever done, and it had been down to the wire getting the analysis completed to the owner’s satisfaction before she had to leave town. That had been a major relief.
“Great.” She grabbed her linen jacket off the back of her chair. “But you do know the place won’t open for at least six months.”
He let out a self-assured chortle. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her heart did a little flip. It was a relief to meet someone who wasn’t plagued with commitment phobia, as most men in this town seemed to be. Yes, Kevin was a real catch.
A rap at her open office door jolted her, and she looked up to see her assistant, Karl, leaning into the doorway and revving like a racecar. She held up a hand to let him know she’d be right with him.
“I have to run, Kevin.”
“Oh. Well...” He paused as if to carefully calculate his words. “Call me when you land. I’ll be worried until you do.”
The thought of him being “worried” both pleased and disturbed her.
Ending the call, she held up the report she’d just finished. “Karl, I’m glad you’re here. Will you give the Roquefort Grill design to Claude for me, please?”
“You can give it to him yourself.” He flapped an arm toward the hallway. “He needs to see us both in his office, pronto.”
“What? Now?” She slipped her phone into her purse and tugged on her jacket. “But if I’m not out the door in five minutes, I’m in serious danger of missing my flight.”
Karl lifted his hands in a “What can I do?” motion and took a few anxious steps backward.
Deflating, she picked up the design and followed him.
In spite of her two-inch open-toe Kate Spade pumps, she managed to match his sprinter-like pace. “Do you know what this is about?”
He took the corner, nearly plowing over a wide-eyed intern. “All I know is he bellowed something about a total redo on the Abbott account and sent me to get you.”
“A total redo?” She grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “It took us weeks to put that together. I thought Mr. Abbott was ready to sign off on it.”
“You know restaurant owners, Sheil.” He took the final steps toward the opulent double doors at the end of the hall, pushed one open and gestured for her to precede him. “They don’t know what they want.”
As they moved into the outer office, a harried administrative assistant wordlessly waved them toward the second set of double doors that led to the inner sanctum of their boss, Claude Maples. Inside, Claude spoke urgently on his phone as he dipped his pointed chin in acknowledgment of their entrance.
Sheila checked her watch. “Three minutes,” she mouthed to Karl, who bobbed his shoulders helplessly.
“Macintosh.” Claude plunked down his phone. “Abbott wants some changes made.” He motioned toward the analysis on his desk—the one she and Karl had slaved over to get to the client on time. “I want you to put everything else on hold and focus solely on this today.”
Sheila’s eyes flared at Karl, and he backed up a step. Clearly, she was going to get no help from him. “Uh...Mr. Maples...I—”
“This shouldn’t be too complicated.” Bending over his desk, Claude shuffled through some papers. “He loves the aquarium wall so much that he wants us to bring the under-the-sea effect right into the dining area. I told him you would develop some ideas and we’d have a new analysis to him by tomorrow.”
All the air left Sheila’s lungs. Short of actually giving the diners scuba suits and plunging them underwater, how was she supposed to bring the effect any more out into the room than it already was? She took a step forward and placed the analysis she’d just finished on his desk next to the other one. “But I’m leaving for the airport right now.”
“He has some specific thoughts about ambience and mood that he wants you to incorporate into the concept.” Claude continued his paper shuffle. “I trust you can convert his thoughts into something cohesive and rework the design.”
She shifted from one foot to the other. Could Claude have a hearing problem she’d never noticed before? “But I can’t get it done by tomorrow. I’m leaving town.” She glanced at Karl, who seemed to be studying his shoes. She fixed her gaze again on Claude. “You remember. Montana?”
Claude looked up finally, his beady eyes squinting from behind designer frames. “Montana?”
She nodded. He was only in his fifties—far too young to be losing both his hearing and his memory. She went on. “My best friend is having a baby?”
“Oh. Yes. Well.” His head tipped down again, revealing the start of a bald spot in his otherwise full head of graying hair. “She’s not having it today, is she?”
“No, I don’t think so. But—”
“Fine, then.” Turning from the papers, he clicked at his computer. “You have time.”
“But she’s expecting—”
“Yes, that’s what you said.” He scowled at the screen.
“No, I mean she’s expecting and she’s expecting me to get there tonight.”
“Oh. Well.” His focus didn’t waver. “You’ll work something out.”
Sheila felt a migraine coming on. Courtney had made it clear that she wanted Sheila there for the home birth, which could happen at any time if the baby came early. If she postponed her departure, she could easily miss it.
She pulled back her shoulders. “Mr. Maples, you approved my vacation weeks ago.”
Frowning at her, he removed his glasses. “And weeks ago, we didn’t know that Cameron Abbott would have an eleventh-hour change of heart about his restaurant concept.”
“But, sir, I—”
“Macintosh.” He narrowed his gaze, pointing his glasses at her like a dart he was aiming to skewer her with. “The Abbott account is the biggest our firm has had in months. If you feel you can’t follow through on it, I’ll have to turn it over to someone else.”
Her heart pounded. She’d worked so hard to blaze a trail for herself in this firm. If she let this account slip from her grasp, it would be like starting from ground zero. She bit her lip so hard it would probably leave a mark.
Claude raised a thick eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”
“No, sir, but I—”
“I didn’t think so.” He replaced his glasses, then thrust a stack of papers at her. “I’ve given you a copy of Abbott’s requests along with my notes.”
Her shoulders drooped as she hoisted the heavy stack and slunk out of the office. Karl caught up to her, clutching the now-defunct analysis in his hands.
“Sorry, Sheil.” He sounded genuinely contrite. “I know this trip meant a lot to you.”
Meant? Her head swam. If she and Karl pulled an all-nighter, she could still make it out of here by tomorrow.
As they entered her office, anxiety gnawed at her stomach. What was she thinking? Even if they incorporated all the changes by morning, the client would still need to give his approval. They had taken weeks to get this far along. How did she know he wouldn’t drag it out for days asking them to tweak the design?
Karl crossed to the coffee bar with the supercharged energy of someone who thrives
on completing monumental tasks in an impossibly short time. “Should I make coffee?”
“Coffee. Sure.” She spoke absently as she drifted over to her desk chair but didn’t sit. A thought wrapped itself around her like a cloak. What if this was a blessing in disguise?
As she absently grabbed a few jelly beans from the bowl on her desk and placed them in her mouth, she watched Karl take a bottle of filtered water from the mini fridge and pour it into the coffeemaker. If she told Courtney she couldn’t get away from work after all, then she wouldn’t have to risk facing the anguish she’d worked so hard to conceal. Maybe this was what she had secretly been hoping for all along.
As she readjusted her grip on the papers, her eyes lit on the framed photo of her with Courtney at Big Sur the week before Courtney had started working on North to Montana, the movie that had taken her to the Treasure State in the first place. She stared solemnly at her BFF, whom she hadn’t even seen since Courtney’s fairy-tale ranch wedding ten months before. An ache rose in her throat that refused to be swallowed.
Carefully measuring out coffee grounds with a small scoop, Karl spoke over his shoulder. “You want me to cancel your flight?”
Did she? There really wasn’t a logical reason for her to avoid Montana. It wasn’t the place that was the problem, after all, but the memories it held. How could she even consider letting her best friend down just because she was a coward?
She dropped the stack of papers onto her desk with a thud. “No. I’m catching my flight. I can do what I need to do on the plane.”
Karl whirled around, the coffee scoop in his hand spraying an arc of brown particles on the carpet. “But—”
“It will be fine, Karl.” She began shoving papers into her computer bag. “Whatever communicating you and I need to do, we can do over the phone or email.”
He charged toward her, still balancing the half-full scoop, as if he’d forgotten he held it. “But Claude said—”
“He said we needed to redo the design. He didn’t say I had to stay here to do it.”
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