The Maverick's Bridal Bargain

by Christy Jeffries

  Nonsense? Did the man realize that he was indirectly implying that Vivienne and her job were completely useless, as well? Her spine straightened at the insult but soon lost some of its steel resolve when she couldn’t really argue the point. More often than not, she felt that weddings and even marriages were just a big waste of effort and time. But she wasn’t about to admit as much in front of her clients. She was supposed to be drumming up more business, not losing it.

  Thankfully, Lydia jumped in. “Cole, this wedding isn’t just about me and Zach. It’s about our families and our friends and our journey to finding each other. It may be nonsense to you, but to me, it’s an opportunity to celebrate everything and everyone who is important in our relationship.”

  Zach opened his mouth—probably to defend his bride, who was clearly capable of speaking up for herself—but his cell phone went off at the exact same time Cole pulled his own vibrating phone from his pocket.

  “It’s a group text from Dad,” Cole said first.

  “I know,” Zach replied, not looking up from his cell. “I’m part of the group.”

  It seemed like a race to see which brother could read the message first. Not that she had a view of anyone’s screens from her seat on the opposite side of the table, but curiosity had Vivienne scooting closer to the edge of her chair.

  Cole’s fingers were already flying across the electronic keyboard, likely because he wanted to be the first to respond. She was sensing a competitive edge to the middle Dalton son.

  Luckily, Zach didn’t appear to have the same sense of urgency to reply, because he announced, “Looks like Dad just made an offer on some property a few miles away.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Lydia said. “Where is it?”

  “He said Sawmill Station,” Zach replied. “I know we’re still pretty new to Rust Creek and I’ve heard of Sawmill Road. But I’ve never heard of a ranch by that name.”

  Lydia tilted her head. “That’s because Sawmill Station isn’t a ranch. It’s an old abandoned train depot.”

  “Why would Dad make an offer on an abandoned train depot?” Cole asked as he continued typing.

  Zach’s phone made another ping. “I’d ask him, but I can’t dial out when my phone keeps buzzing with incoming texts from you.”

  “I just told him that I’m here at the Circle D with you and we can swing by to check it out.”

  “I know,” Zach told his brother, holding up his phone. “I can read.”

  Lydia looked at her watch. “We have another hour before our appointment at Maverick Manor in town. Since Sawmill Station is on the way, we could swing by and check it out. Would you mind, Vivienne?”

  She leaned back slowly in her chair to prevent herself from sliding under the table to get away from Cole’s penetrating stare. Anticipation hummed through the kitchen and it was obvious that buying this property was a monumental occasion for the Dalton family. Normally, she liked to meet with her clients at their homes or workplaces because seeing them in their natural surroundings gave her a better sense of their personalities, which translated to a fuller picture of how they envisioned their big day. However, tagging along on a private family outing was surely beyond the boundaries of her job description.

  Yet all three of them looked so eager she couldn’t very well deny them their side trip. And they could just as easily discuss bouquets and music playlists in the car. Besides, this was her last appointment of the day. The only thing waiting for her at home was a to-go box containing half of a three-day-old club sandwich, and an unsocial guinea pig who refused to come out of its cage.

  Vivienne managed a weak smile and said, “Sure. Why not?”

  * * *

  Cole should’ve just driven his own truck, but GPS navigational systems were still spotty this far out and Lydia was the only person who knew exactly where they were going. They could’ve gone caravan style, but Cole had never been the type to blindly follow while one of his brothers took the lead. Riding together seemed like the most logical solution.

  Of course, that was before he realized that he’d be crammed into the back seat of the crew cab next to the hoity-toity wedding planner who kept her body so stiff there wasn’t a bump or pothole along the way that would dislodge her from her seat-belted perch.

  Fortunately, the soft fabric of her overlapping skirt wasn’t as rigid and would gape open a little wider every time his brother navigated a curve on the winding, narrow road that led to the new property. Cole had just gotten a peek of the freckle on Vivienne’s thigh when the truck made a sharp right at a faded yellow sign that might’ve once read Sawmill Station.

  “I thought Dad was going to buy an actual ranch,” Zach commented as he slowed the vehicle in front of a run-down brick building that was way too enormous to be a barn or a stable.

  “It’s certainly a far cry from the Circle D,” Cole agreed. “But Dad said he was buying it for the acreage. I guess we’re supposed to envision it once we get those old structures torn down and some pastures mapped out.”

  Lydia’s yelp from the front seat was more like a squeak. “You can’t just tear down those buildings. They’re historical landmarks.”

  Cole waited for Zach to put the truck in Park before unbuckling his seat belt. As he hopped out, he asked, “Are we going to run a ranch or a museum?”

  He walked around to the passenger side of the truck, where Vivienne was tentatively placing one high-heeled foot on the running board in order to climb down. Cole reached out instinctively and cupped her elbow as she descended onto the mud-caked asphalt. Feeling a tug low in his belly at her nearness, he had to force himself to let go when she began to straighten her skirt.

  “I recently helped out on an article about all the abandoned railway lines in Montana,” Lydia said with some awe as the four of them stood in a row in the weed-infested gravel driveway. “A hundred or so years ago, this property used to be a feed mill and ran adjacent to a logging camp. Back then, the best way for businesses to distribute their products throughout the West was by freight car. The original owners laid some tracks and opened a small depot, naming the place Sawmill Station. Their vision was shortsighted, though, because, as you know, the logging industry never stayed in one place very long, so the camp moved on. Then as more ranchers came out west, the feed mill’s business boomed. Unfortunately, this location was pretty remote, and with the invention of eighteen-wheelers and interstates, using trains way out here fell by the wayside. The company had to change with the times and eventually relocated to Kalispell.”

  Cole had always thought himself to be too practical for nostalgia, but the acreage was vast and grassy if he looked past the buildings. Plus, it was kind of cool to own a place with a little bit of history, a place that someone else had once sunk their own blood and sweat into. Maybe it was all those years living in barracks on military bases, but he was itching to replant some roots and this neglected-looking property needed him. It felt good to be needed again.

  The possibility of a challenge flared up inside of him and he wondered out loud, “So maybe instead of bulldozing everything to the ground, we can repurpose some of these buildings. If only we knew what was what.”

  “Down at the Gazette offices, I think we have an old photo of this place in its heyday,” Lydia explained, walking toward a smaller structure. “I believe that this peeling white building up front is the actual depot, but because nobody in town came this far out, it never saw too many passengers. That huge brick monstrosity back there is a freight house, where they’d store the loaded cars.”

  “Looks like they left one behind when they closed down operations.” Vivienne pointed to an abandoned railcar sitting at a crooked angle, the lower half almost hidden by overgrown grass and the inside probably home to several different species of critters. Cole watched the wedding planner as she studied their surroundings. He’d half expected her to jump back into the truck at the first s
ight of a prairie dog. But she surprised him when she said, “There’s something alluring and fascinating about it all, isn’t there? I mean, all that rustic brick is totally back in style right now. And the tiny depot is adorable. Can’t you just picture what it would look like with a fresh coat of white paint and some flower boxes planted around the platform?”

  “What used to be the platform, you mean.” Cole squinted at the collapsed, rotted-out planks.

  “Let’s go check out the freight house,” Vivienne suggested, surprising him again by leading the way. Her legs trembled slightly as she trudged through the path in her high heels, and Cole found himself appreciating her determination and curiosity.

  When they got to the wooden plank doors of the large brick structure, he saw that the padlock was relatively new, but the hasp was so rusted that it all but fell at Zach’s feet when his brother gave it a slight tug.

  “Whoa,” Cole said, taking a step back. “Isn’t that breaking and entering?”

  “Not if you guys own the property,” Vivienne replied, before being the first to walk inside. Cole almost asked if prowling and trespassing were included in her wedding-planner fees, or if she charged extra for that service.

  “We don’t own it yet,” Cole called out when Zach and Lydia followed her lead. Super. Now they were all committing a crime. He stepped in after them. “Technically, Dad never mentioned whether or not the offer was accepted.”

  “Relax, Sergeant Save-the-Day,” Zach said, using the hated nickname from childhood. “The lock is probably just to keep out the bears and the teenagers looking for a hangout. It’s not like they’re storing any valuables in here.”

  Okay, so maybe his brother had a point. Aside from some spiderwebs and a few broken wooden crates in one corner, the place was empty.

  “Wow.” Vivienne did a complete circle as she looked up at the row of dormer windows lining each side of the roofline. “Look at all the natural light coming in here. An open floor plan like this would be the perfect place to host some sort of housewarming party.”

  Cole squeezed his eyelids shut for a few seconds, then opened them, wondering if the woman was seeing the same run-down barren building he was. Who in their right mind would throw a party here? Or maybe the fee calculator in her mind was ka-chinging like a cash register, and Vivienne was hoping to make a killing on his family with her suggestions for additional parties they didn’t need.

  “I’m afraid your vision is completely lost on me,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  “Look.” She pulled a small electronic tablet out of her purse and made her way toward him as she tapped on the screen. She held up a picture of what looked to be some fancy hall decorated to look like an old barn. Or maybe it was an old barn cleaned up to look like a fancy hall. “People actually pay thousands of dollars to rent out aged buildings just like these for private events.”

  “Yeah, but how much work would it take to make this—” Cole gestured to the brick walls and windows caked with years of grime before pointing at her device “—look like that?”

  “I guess it would depend on how motivated you were. I bet a cleaning crew could have this place scrubbed down in a couple of days. The roof might need some repairing, just in case it rains during the event, and you’ll probably need a new shed door. I’m not an expert at refurbishing old buildings, but you’d only need to make it structurally sound, not livable. Part of the charm is in keeping the thing as rustic as possible. Then you bring in your own tables and chairs, or you get them from a party rental company, call up a caterer and go from there.”

  “Can I see that picture?” Lydia asked as she and Zach huddled together on one side of Vivienne. Cole found himself practically pressed up against her other side so that he could still see the screen as she swiped through similar images. But instead of focusing on the photos, his eyes kept straying toward the V-neck of her dress. Again.

  Lydia’s gasp caused his head to jerk up, an innocent expression pasted all over his guilty face. But instead of accusing him of ogling the wedding planner, his soon-to-be sister-in-law said excitedly, “You know what would be perfect? We should have our reception here. Just think! It would serve a dual purpose of celebrating our wedding and formally welcoming the Daltons to Rust Creek Falls.”

  “I love it,” Vivienne gushed, before looking down at a text that popped up on her tablet. Unlike Zach and Lydia, who had stepped back and were too busy making googly eyes at each other and the derelict building, Cole was still right by Vivienne’s side and could easily see the message.

  You better be getting more bookings while you’re there, or else. Her finger quickly swiped to hide the notification, but as soon as it was gone, a second one popped up. This time, there were no words. Just a row of dollar signs.

  Luckily, he was able to look away right before she turned her head in his direction, probably hoping he hadn’t seen her boss’s directive. Even though his instincts had now been confirmed, there was something about the threat at the end that evoked just the smallest pang of sympathy.

  Once, he’d had an old blowhard of a first sergeant who’d gotten in his face and cussed him up one side and down the other when he caught Cole helping another recruit clean the latrine. The dressing-down took place in front of the entire platoon, who all did their best to pretend nothing out of the ordinary was happening. So he was familiar with being embarrassed by high-handed bosses who never appreciated a job well-done. If only Estelle of Estelle’s Events could see that her employee was currently reeling in her clients hook, line and sinker.

  Still. Someone had to look out for his brother and make sure nobody was taking advantage of the lovestruck groom. Cole couldn’t tamp down the need to remind the couple of the more practical side of things.

  “I know you guys are thinking with your hearts right now, but maybe you should be thinking with your checking accounts.” Honestly, Cole had no idea what their budget was, but every time Vivienne had made a suggestion during the car ride over here, he’d been reminded of one of those bar-code scanning machines in the grocery store, each beep signaling a rising total.

  “Like I said, I’m not sure how much it would cost to get the building fixed up, but if you’re not tearing it down, you’d likely be investing that much money into the place anyway to use it as a barn or a shed-thing or...whatever you would use it for on a ranch.” Vivienne was definitely a city girl, all right. Yet she didn’t let her lack of knowledge about cattle operations keep her from continuing on. “The table and chair rental will depend on what your final guest count is, but I have a vendor who includes linens and delivery and setup in the cost. Using a caterer is going to give you more flexibility with the menu than you might have at a restaurant or hotel. The flowers, the music, the cake and the photographer are all separate businesses you’d be hiring out anyway, so the location wouldn’t matter. If you give me a day or so, I can draw up a new budget for you with some projected prices, but based on my experience, it’ll be at least a few thousand dollars cheaper to have the reception here rather than using a formal venue.”

  Wait. Did Vivienne just say cheaper? As in she was trying to save Zach and Lydia money? And the woman was smiling as if she was actually happy to take a cut on her commission. Assuming she was working off a commission. Cole had no idea how people were paid in her line of work or why anyone would ever need to hire a wedding planner in the first place. It wasn’t like it was a real job that required much effort.

  His head spun at the whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and he tried to make sense of it all.

  But when he saw his brother and Lydia walking around the space, eagerly talking about where they could put a dance floor and whether they should forgo a church ceremony and say their vows under the canopy of aspen trees outside, the weight of determination settled in Cole’s chest. The Daltons, or at least their branch of the family, hadn’t had anything to celebrate in a long time.
So if having the party here gave Zach even a glimmer of happiness, then Cole was going to make sure the bride and groom had the biggest and best wedding the town of Rust Creek Falls had ever seen.

  Chapter Four

  Estelle was going to have a fit about their company doing a “cowboy” wedding, Vivienne thought to herself as she drove toward Rust Creek Falls on a Sunday morning three weeks later. But ever since she’d seen that beautiful brick freight house, her brain had been buzzing with all kinds of ideas and she hadn’t felt this motivated at work in a long time.

  When Cole had made that comment about checking accounts and the cost of the Grant-Dalton wedding, Vivienne was certain that he’d seen Estelle’s text to her about locking in more wedding contracts while she was in Rust Creek Falls. Then, out of nowhere, he’d all of a sudden switched gears and was promising that they could have the buildings on the family’s new property ready within a month after closing.

  The guy was a complete mystery to her. One minute, he was all stoic, chastising his brother for not having his cell phone on. The next minute, he was winking at her and calling her ma’am in that sexy drawl of his. Then he was suggesting that weddings were a waste of money right before volunteering to remodel the old washroom in the back of the freight house and turn it into a ladies’ restroom.

  Vivienne was used to unexpected changes and rolling with the flow. Both her childhood and her job had trained her well. But it’d sure be nice if Cole would pick a lane.

  When she made a right onto the long driveway for Sawmill Station, she immediately noticed that there was a lush green lawn in place of the overgrown fields and there was freshly laid gravel preventing her compact car from landing in a pothole. But the biggest surprise of all was the crisp white paint on the clapboards of the train depot.