A Heart's Design

by Natalee Cooper

  Through the opened windows, brisk air fluttered the thin but pressed white embroidered curtains. Thick trees beyond hinted at mysteries waiting to be explored. Too bad she had work to do. Plus, with her sense of direction, she’d get lost in less than five minutes.

  On the bedside table, in a vintage milk glass vase, was a fresh arrangement of small, paper-like white flowers and… “Chili peppers?” Her lips hitched up on one side as she ran the tip of her finger over one shiny pepper. “Oh, Cisco would love you.” She laughed, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture.

  Situating her stuff, Madison took one last glance around the room before joining Eric on the wraparound porch on the main level. The sky prepared to welcome dusk over the towering pines, stealing her breath.

  “Good?” she asked, seeing him shove the last of his turnover into his mouth.

  “Mm, hmm.”

  “You better not have eaten mine.”

  He swallowed and lounged back into the rust-orange Adirondack, the wood creaking beneath him. “Give me credit. I’m not a barbarian. Though, if you don’t want it…”

  She pointed a finger at him. “Hands off. I’m saving mine for breakfast.”

  Eric’s answering salute evoked her usual eye roll, only he missed the gesture when his attention turned to Dustin who’d rounded the corner.

  “Tell me Jo’s real job is running a bakery.” The accountant patted his stomach. “One within walking distance of here?”

  Dustin’s chuckle echoed through the trusses of the overhang. “Nope.” He flipped the screwdriver he held, catching the handle with ease. “The only people she bakes for are her guests. And occasionally twenty little six and seven-year-olds.”

  Eric’s brows rose to perfectly frame a blank look, and she tucked the comical image away to taunt him with later.

  “Her daughter teaches first grade,” the cowboy explained.

  Madison covered her snort with a cough when Eric’s mouth formed a pout to rival any child’s. Dustin threw her a knowing wink before grabbing the corner of a sagging window box to tighten a screw and re-secure it in place. The flowers it held splashed of violet, crimson, and yellow, creating a happy accent to the B&B’s rustic log exterior.

  “There’s a fantastic pie shop not far from here, though,” he said. “Also, if you’re into blue grass, one of my favorite local bands is playing in town tonight.” The host leaned against the wooden railing, crossing his boots at the ankle. “Or, are you here for the convention?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but Eric beat her to it.

  “No, we’re here on some other business. We’ve been asked to draw up some designs for a client and flew in to see the property.”

  “Cool. Is it a commercial project?”

  The southern California native slouched lower in his chair, lifting an ankle over his knee. “Nope, it’s a home for one of the ranches a few miles from here.”

  Madison shot him a warning look before shifting her attention to Dustin. “Do you live in town?”

  “Nah. I live on a ranch myself, up that way.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

  “I swear everyone up here must live on a ranch,” Eric said. “Do you all actually ranch something?”

  She snorted. “Ranch something?”

  “Dude knows what I mean.”

  A deep chuckle shook the cowboy’s shoulders. “Yep, it’s a workin’ ranch. Though it’s nothing fancy. Won’t bore you with the details.”

  “What, are you kidding? I'd probably find stories of mucking out stables exciting.”

  Dustin tipped his hat back, full on laughing this time, and stared at Madison. “Is he for real?”

  “I’m afraid so. Just nod. It’s safer,” she said, knowing it was way too late to unclaim her accountant no matter how ridiculous he got.

  “Ha. Ha.” Eric glared, but the gesture was weak. “So, are all of the ranches around here legit?”

  “A lot are.”

  “With horse stables and cattle and all that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Awesome.” His surfer waves fell across his forehead as he stretched his legs.

  “Well, I’m gonna finish up here,” Dustin said. “It was nice to meet you folks.”

  Madison watched him check and tighten the other screws on the window boxes, then she glanced back to her unusually silent companion. His eyes were closed, hands on his stomach.

  “I changed my mind,” he said. “This place is great.”

  “Agreed.” She shoved her fingers into her front pockets, her gaze following a trail of dust from an old pickup in the distance. Nature was the dominant sound here, not horn blasts and revved engines. Clear skies stretched between peaks that literally looked as if they rolled from east to west. Following the horizon with her gaze, she inhaled the air, letting its freshness work through each of her tight muscles.

  “You have to admit, that’s funny.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, she pulled her attention from the view. “What’s funny?”

  “Jase Cutter knee deep in horse manure.” He barked out a laugh. “No wonder he moved to So Cal.”

  Something metal thudded to the ground behind them, and both she and Eric whipped around to see Dustin fumble with the thick screwdriver as he picked it up.

  “You need some help?” Eric asked but was waved down.

  “Just clumsy…” The rancher-slash-cowboy rubbed a hand along his jeans, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, did you say Jase Cutter?”

  Eric didn’t seem to flinch at the glare Madison shot him, and her anger flared, but like a tightened vice, her throat constricted, leaving her words to barely escape above a whisper. “We really can’t say.”

  The practical stranger took off his hat, running calloused fingers through his hair, his jaw as hard set as the foundation beneath them. “Right. Of course.” He placed his hat back on his head, tugging the brim low. “If you’ll excuse me.” His feet scraped back a step only to knock over a tin watering can, spilling water across the floor boards of the deck.

  She rushed to right the can. “Here, let me help—”

  “Nah, I got it. Just a klutz today, I guess. You two enjoy your stay. I’m sure Jo will take good care of ya. And please, don’t worry. I understand you need to keep your business private.” He shoved the handle end of the tool in his back pocket and stepped off the porch to disappear around the back of the house, the last two window boxes forgotten.

  “Madison—”

  “Please tell me this is all a nightmare.” She massaged her temples, closing her eyes.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Counting to twenty seemed like the safest thing to do, so she counted to fifty.

  The scratch of the Adirondack against wood as he stood broke the quiet between them. “Don’t stress about it. He doesn’t strike me as the type to stir up trouble.”

  He bumped her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. “Are you hearing yourself?” She jerked her sleeves down, her hands trembling with a frustration that ran through every vein. “We weren’t asked to keep this private out of courtesy. Jase is a prospective client, one who requested us not to say anything. That means this”—she spread her hands wide—“is anything but fine.”

  Eric rubbed the back of his neck. “I think you’re worrying too much. He isn’t going to say anything.”

  “So, we should just dust it off? Not stress?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what we should do.”

  He smiled his easy, care-free smile—the one she’d been gifted a thousand times since her father hired him, but right now, she could hardly look in his direction.

  “Let’s go into town, and I’ll make it up to you. Dinner’s on me.”

  “I think I’ll stay here and work. We can’t afford to mess this up any more than we probably have.” Her words held more punch than she intended, and there was no surprise his jaw flexed. Bringing him had been a risk. Only, she hadn’t realized how big of one until that moment.


  Pulling the car keys from her pocket, she held them out to him, the flimsy, laminated rental tag swinging. There was a glint of remorse in his expression; though, in the fading light, it was hard to be certain.

  “I screwed up. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Cutter and explain, okay?”

  She didn’t drop her hand. “No. I’ll handle it.”

  He grabbed the keys and stepped off the wraparound to yank the car door open and fire up the engine.

  When his taillights faded, Madison walked back into the B&B, upset and tired despite the fact any sort of bedtime was still a few hours away. She spied the empty sitting room off to the left, with its plush carpet, stone fireplace, and book-lined shelves, then remembered what Dustin had said about no other guests being expected tonight.

  With Eric’s taillights long gone, she made a decision and rushed up to her room to change. If anything could chase away her stress, it was a couple of hours curled up by the fire in her comfies with her sketchpad. And with some luck, she’d come up with the perfect design to make Jase forget about her accountant’s little mess up.

  Chapter Seven

  Gravel crunched beneath Jase’s rental car as he slowed to a stop outside the Aspen Ridge Bed & Breakfast. He ignored the lingering scent of stale cigarette smoke and leather cleaner as his head fell against the seat. Sunset had faded to dusk, hiding the shadows outside the car’s windows.

  If only I could hide this pathetic fear so easily.

  A hundred acres of emotions had battled him on the short drive from the airport. It didn’t help that after eleven years he still knew every tree, rock, rise and depression in the land. Including the pungent, earthy smells of pasture and livestock.

  But despite his anxiety and heavy dread, the moment his plane landed, a piece of him clicked into place, echoing what he’d known for days now. Leaving Idaho had left a gaping hole inside him—a hole that needed to be healed. Except, how did someone hold only to the good and erase the horror? And then there was everything else—everyone else. His old high school buddies. His best friend. Were they still around? Had they forgiven him? They'd made so many plans…

  And then, with a single decision, he'd ruined every one of them.

  Broken.

  He took his sunglasses from where they rested on his head and tossed them onto the dash. Nothing had to be decided today. Or even tomorrow. For now, only two jobs mattered—confront Madison and visit William. He could do that. It’s only business. And I’m good at business.

  Grabbing his duffel from the backseat, he got out of the car before he could change his mind—or think too much. A warm light glowed in one of the front rooms of the B&B as well as above the door, and a rich fragrance met him upon entering. The smell was both comforting and strangely familiar and immediately conjured a reel of childhood memories—of his mom baking apple pies in the fall and thick applesauce on the stove. He blinked several times, needing to focus, needing something to focus on…

  Remembering the light he’d seen from outside, he wandered over to the sitting room and peered inside. The sound of shuffling papers pricked his ears, and a glance down revealed the reason for his last-minute flight half-hidden by a couch, sitting crossed-legged on the floor, drawings spread out around her. His pulse rushed, the clichéd reaction feeling nothing close to old or overdone.

  Madison’s hair was pulled into a ponytail, and white earbuds were fixed in each ear. From his angle, it appeared her eyes were closed, and he could swear she hummed. Her fingertips poked out from the long sleeves of her hooded T-shirt, and bright purple, zebra print socks covered her feet. He grinned, seeing her water bottle sported the same design. When she stretched out her legs and wiggled her wild toes, his smile grew, despite his mission.

  Standing, she gathered her things but only got about a third in hand before she finally saw him. “Mr. Cutter.” She yanked out her earbuds. “I thought you were coming tomorrow.” Her gaze flicked between the mess on the floor and her clothes, and a deep flush touched her face.

  “I caught the last flight out.” All his reasons for said flight flooded back, and he folded his arms across his chest. “We need to talk.”

  She set her drawings back down. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m trying to think of when you might have mistaken my request to keep this project quiet. I thought I’d spelled it out pretty clearly for you when we talked in your office. I even had my assistant make sure you understood.”

  “I do—we did. I understood perfectly.”

  Jase cocked his head and studied her, a spark of hope challenging Natasha’s claims.

  “If this is about Dustin Henry, I can explain.”

  The name rang in his ears, and he staggered back a step. “What did you say?”

  Her arms fell limp at her sides. “It was an accident. We didn’t mean for him to overhear our conversation, but I don’t think—”

  “You talked to Dustin? Dustin Henry?”

  Air seemed to rush from his lungs as if he’d been struck in the gut with a fastball, and he silently begged for her words to be the punchline to a joke, but the red blotches on her cheeks tore through his hope.

  He jammed his fingers through his hair, where he held his head, staring. “We had an agreement.”

  Flinching, she stepped back, but her foot caught on a loop in the rug. He grabbed for her arms, a hand, anything as she fell backward, but it was the stone fireplace that broke her fall. A gasp of pain escaped her clenched teeth, but she pushed his hand away when he crouched down to help. Using the wall for leverage, she stood, but instantly hugged her arm to her chest.

  Jase reached out again only to hesitate and stare helplessly. “How bad is it? Did it break the skin?”

  She didn't answer, only kept pressure on her arm just above the elbow.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Worry pushed him to stop her as she moved past. “Please, let me help. And I’m sorry, I just…” Her hand fell away from its hold on her arm, heightening his concern as he stared at the streaks of red. “You're bleeding!” His voice came out equal parts shock and shame.

  Careful with his touch, Jase lifted her arm at the wrist to inspect the wound better. Her white cotton sleeve was stained a bright red, the blood from beneath slowly spreading. He replaced her hand over the cut gently, but firmly, and led her out of the sitting room and through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

  “I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks,” she said. “Really, I'll be fine.” The words were believable enough, but her sniffs ruined the tough façade.

  Dragging a stool out from under the counter, he helped her sit. “Don’t move.”

  He skimmed cupboards and drawers for some sort of first aid kit, finally locating one under the sink. Dust coated the outside, but otherwise it looked useful. Placing the box down on her left, he studied her profile. Her back was straight, her shoulders rising and falling with what he knew was a lot of pain.

  “You don’t need to do this. I can take care of it.”

  He paused in his search through the kit but decided not to respond. Finding a few packages of gauze, he threw them down on her other side before pulling out the tape. It was a little yellowed on the edges but would have to do.

  Without words, he took her hand again and gently lifted it away from the cut. Her slender fingers, so small in his large hand, warmed his skin—a warmth that spread through his palm and crept up his arm, cutting him with guilt. His attention fell to her lower lip, the one she held between her teeth…

  Nice, man. A real gentleman.

  He lifted her arm to inspect it, glad it wasn’t too gruesome. She started to pull on her sleeve to see for herself, but he stopped her. “Easy. Here.” With a steadiness he didn’t feel, he pushed the end of the sleeve up, wincing when she sucked in a breath.

  “How was your flight?” he asked, hoping to distract her. “Penny mentioned you were bringing someone from your company with you?”

  �
�It was…fine.” She picked up the tape, rolling the end of the thin material tightly between her fingers like the motion might numb the pain. “And yes, Eric is here. Well, not at the moment. He headed into town, probably to see a few places Dustin suggested.”

  Jase’s fingers slipped, and she jerked.

  “Sorry,” he said, not meeting her gaze.

  She craned her neck. “How bad is it?”

  “Doesn't seem too deep. I don't think you'll need stitches, but…” Another bucket of guilt dumped over him as he fingered the large tear in her hoodie’s thin material. “I'm afraid your shirt didn't make it.”

  “If you’ll get me a wet cloth or some wipes, I can clean it up.”

  Madison moved to hop off the stool, but he put his hand on her knee to stop her, ignoring the flame of awareness in that one small touch. “Let me take care of it. We both know it's my fault.”

  “No. I’m just clumsy.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Several strokes of silence passed between them. “It really was an accident,” she said, meeting his gaze a moment before focusing on the charm her father gave her. “Dustin hearing about your ranch.”

  There was honesty in her words, but… “What about Simon Weston? Or his sister? Did you mention the project to them, too?”

  Her little nose scrunched up. “No, of course not. I’ve hardly talked to either of them.”

  “You spoke with them this morning.”

  The blue in her eyes sparked a shade darker as she lifted her face to look at him. “I promise you, nothing was said about the project to Simon, or his sister. Nothing.”

  Words saying he believed her, stuck in Jase’s throat.

  After a few ticks of the clock behind them, her shoulders wilted. “I’d still love the chance to draw up designs for you, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to continue the project with us.”

  And there it was. The perfect excuse to postpone rebuilding the ranch. All he had to do was nod. Tell her it was probably best.