Authors: Leanne Banks
“Oh, no,” he said. “You might go in there and find something my grandmother would wear.”
“Shame on you,” she said. “Your grandmother isn't even alive.”
“Exactly,” he said and put the truck in park. “Let's get this done.”
Cecelia reluctantly climbed out of the truck and joined Nick as they walked into the department store. She shoved her hands into her pockets and, after looking at the signs, headed for the ladies' department.
One sales associate was straightening a table of sweaters.
Nick pointed to the woman. “Let's talk to her.”
“We could look around first,” she said, her nervousness increasing.
“No need. Hello, miss,” he called. “We're looking for a dress. And maybe a skirt,” he said.
The woman looked from Nick to Cecelia. “For you or her?” she asked.
Cecelia looked at Nick and treasured the discomfort on his face. “Her,” he said. “Definitely her.”
The woman with a name tag that said Debbie nodded. She gave Cecelia an assessing glance. “Size six or eight,” she said. “What's the occasion?”
“She's got a couple of dates coming up,” Nick said.
“Let me find you a few things to try on,” the woman said and led the way through the racks of clothing.
Moments later, Cecelia stood in the dressing room with a load of dresses and skirts. Tugging off her clothes, she pulled on a dress. A knock sounded on the dressing room door, startling her.
“Your friend would like to see your dress,” Debbie said.
Cecelia made a face at the mirror then took a deep breath and walked to just outside the room. Nick glanced at her and shook his head. “Dress needs to be shorter.”
The sales clerk stepped toward them. “This could take a while, sir. Perhaps you would prefer to take in a game at the sports bar next door.”
Nick hesitated a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Find me when you're done. Just don't pick out anything my grandmother would wear.” He walked away.
Cecelia breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now,” Debbie said. “Let's move on to the next selection.”
Twenty-five minutes later, Cecelia walked out of the department store with a dress and skirt she didn't hate. Both had been on sale, and Debbie had secretly given Cecelia her employee discount. She felt a little more confident after purchasing the two garments.
Walking toward the sports bar, she smiled to herself as she strode inside and spotted Nick drinking a beer and watching a football game. She scooted onto the stool next to his. “How's it going?” she asked.
He glanced up at her in surprise then took a sip of beer and shrugged. “Okay. They're not showing my teams.”
“Boise State or Oregon Ducks,” she said.
“Or even Washington Huskies. I don't ask much,” he grumbled.
She smiled. “Not much,” she echoed.
“Hmm,” he said with a nod and glanced at her bag. “What did you get? I'll reimburse you.”
She lifted her chin. “No,” she returned. “They were on sale.”
“Great,” he said. “Grandma clothes.”
“No,” she said.
“So when are you going to show me?” he asked.
“Oh, I'm not sure,” she said. “You'll be lucky to see them.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Hey, I drove you here. The least you can do is give me a little fashion preview.”
Cecelia grinned impudently. “Your reward is the pleasure of my company.”
“Oh, no,” Nick mocked. “I've created a monster.” He chuckled. “Look out, Rust Creek Falls.”
Cecelia felt her grin fade to a grimace. “I wouldn't count on that big of a splash.” Stealing a sideways glance at Nick, she wondered what it would take to attract him. She wondered what it would take to make Nick fall head over butt. Cecelia closed her eyes at the silly thought. Nick was in complete control of his heart and his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He wasn't falling for any woman.
They rode back to town listening to a Boise State football game. Cecelia just leaned her head back against the headrest and wondered what she was getting herself into. Did she really want to attract so much attention?
Did she want to remain invisible?
She closed her eyes, wondering if she'd deliberately fended off romantic possibilities. Had she been afraid? Or had she just wanted more than what she'd seen in the men she'd met in Rust Creek Falls?
The prospect gave her a headache. Too much to think about. After all, she'd bought her first dress and skirt in an eon. That should be enough.
* * *
The next morning, Cecelia awakened early. She showered, put her hair back in its regular ponytail and hesitated a microsecond before she put on the dreaded red lipstick. She'd almost become immune to it, blanking it out after she applied it in the morning. If she was lucky, she'd chew it off within a half hour.
Pulling on her jeans, a shirt and vest and tennis shoes, she rushed out of the boardinghouse without eating. She was running late and needed to help out with the community soccer games at the park. She timed the games, sometimes refereed and always gave pats on the back.
She gave a big wave to the leader of the league, Mr. Daniels, as she ran toward the field.
He smiled and waved in return. “Glad you're here. No backup today.”
“No problem. Lots of little ones today,” she said, noting the mass of children.
“Yeah. Good weather. Not much sickness except for mine,” he said. “I'm glad you're here. The wife, Sheila, is home with Bobby.”
“I'm sorry he's sick,” she said.
“The doc says it's just a virus. He should be better soon.” He pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here's the schedule. It's gonna be a long day.”
Cecelia alternated between timing and being a referee. Just as she finished her duties, she heard a male voice.
“Hi,” he said.
She glanced up from her time sheet. The man in front of her was young and attractive. “Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You want to go get some wings?”
She blinked at the invitation. She'd been helping at soccer games throughout the fall and no one had approached her for so much as a cup of water.
“I'm Brent Mullins. I coach for my son's team,” he said.
She bit her lip and wondered if she wore a remnant of lipstick. “I... Uh. Are you married?”
He threw back his head and laughed. White teeth, she noticed. Very white teeth. “I'm divorced. It was friendly.”
Cecelia gave a slow nod. “Good,” she said and shrugged. “Wings sound great.”
About an hour later, Cecelia joined Brent as they walked toward Buffalo Bart's Wings-To-Go. “How long have you been in Rust Creek Falls?” she asked.
“I'm a supervisor at the mill. My ex-wife has lived here a long time, but I'm not sure it's the place for me. We split up a couple years ago and I moved away for a job.”
“Too small?” she asked, shoving her hands in her pocket.
“Something like that,” he said. “But I don't want to be far away from my son, so I came back.”
“Tough decision,” she said.
“Yeah, but I don't want to think about that every minute,” he said. “At some point, you just have to live your life.”
“Very true,” she said as they got in line at the wing shack. She took a sidelong glance at Brent. “Just curious. What made you ask me out for wings?”
He met her gaze and shook his head. “It'll sound crazy.”
“Crazy, how?”
He shrugged. “Your smile,” he said. “You smiled at all the kids. And your ponytail,” he said and lowered his voice. “And your red lipstick. What a combination.”
Cecelia couldn't help thinking of Nick. Oh, heaven help her. He was right. Lipstick mattered.
Chapter Three
“H
ey, Nate,” Nick greeted Nate Crawford on Sunday afternoon as he entered the great room of the lodge Nate was remodeling into a high-level property. “How's it going?”
“Good,” Nate said. “Better than good. I hope to have this place up and running sooner than expected. I don't suppose you can spend more time doing your fancy woodwork.”
Nick grinned at the man who was going to change the future of Rust Creek Falls. Nate was creating a first-class lodge, the first of its kind in the town. Nate had won the lottery almost a year ago and was investing some of it back into the area. “Sure. If you want to give me double time.”
Nate scowled. “You're too smart and talented for your own good.”
“You mean
your
good,” Nick said and headed toward the mantel he was transforming. Nick loved working on the project, because Nate wasn't pinching pennies. Nick was free to create a work of art. He wouldn't admit it to many, but Nick loved the art of carpentry. The trouble was most of the time carpentry was just an issue of getting the job done. Most people didn't have the time or money for
art.
“We could negotiate,” Nate began. “A few more hours a week would help.”
“I'm open,” Nick said, thinking about the savings account he was filling for the ranch he wanted. He hadn't told many about his desire to have a place of his own, but the need to have a home and some land in his name had started to nag at him on a regular basis. Perhaps like that wife he was determined not to have.
Nate sighed. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said.
“And you don't?” Nick asked.
Nate laughed and shook his head. “We'll work this out.”
“Numbers,” Nick said. “Give me the right numbers and I'm your man.”
“Is that all you're about?” Nate asked. “I hear you're the ladies' man.”
Nick shrugged. “I'm just trying to make a living and take care of myself. You can understand that.”
Nate nodded. “Makes sense. No woman driving you to do this?”
Nick shook his head. “Nope. In fact, I'm trying to find the right man for a friend of mine.”
Nate looked at him in confusion. “Huh?”
“I have a friend. She came from Thunder Canyon hoping to find the perfect man. No luck yet. I'm trying to help her.”
“Why aren't you interested?” Nate asked.
Nick shook his head again. “No way. I'm committed to not being committed. I don't want a woman telling me what to do 24/7.”
Nate chuckled. “They're not all like that.”
Nick knew Nate was engaged to Callie Kennedy and the two were as close as a couple could be. Feeling a strange twinge of envy, he lifted his hand. “Maybe not for you, but all the women I've met want me for my handyman abilities. That's why I put an ad in the newspaper for my services. Now I get paid.” He shrugged. “When I meet a woman who wants me for me, then maybe things will change. Until then...”
Nate stared at him thoughtfully. “What about the friend you're trying to help? Would she want you for your handyman services?”
Nick frowned as he thought about Cecelia. “She's like a little sister. She just needs a little help finding a guy. She's cute, but no glamour queen. Ponytail, no makeup, that kind of girl. Nicest girl you could ever meet.”
“Hmm,” Nate said. “You know there's not exactly a shortage of women in Rust Creek Falls right now.”
“I know all about the Rust Creek Falls Gal Rush. I've been a victim,” he said.
“Victim?” Nate echoed and chuckled. “That's a new way of describing it.”
“I told you before most of these women want me for my handyman skills. The new ones in town want me because I'm wearing a Stetson,” he said. “But I'll tell you that most of these new gals won't last through our Montana winter. Plus we don't have one of the most important things to keep a woman happy. Shopping. Some of these are city girls, and we're not exactly Los Angeles or New York City.”
“The sheriff's wife was a city girl. She's doing just fine here.”
“She's the exception to the rule. The point I'm making is that we need to keep the good women in town. The women who know our winters are long and hard and it can get boring. Cecelia is one of those women. She came up from Thunder Canyon and she'd like to find a nice guy. If you have any recommendations, let me know.”
“I'll work on it. Maybe I can find her someone.”
“Let me know,” Nick said, but felt the strangest twinge in his gut. He must have eaten too much of Melba's spicy sausage at breakfast.
He and Nate negotiated an expedited schedule for his work at the lodge and Nick headed out the door. With these new demands, Nick would be working nearly round-the-clock, but the good news was that it would fatten up his bank account. On the way back into town, he stopped at Will Duncan's house. Will was a fifty-year-old veteran who had taken in his young grandchildren after his daughter had died and his son-in-law had been thrown into prison last year.
Nick admired the man for taking on those kids when Will's health wasn't the best. Will had lost a leg when he was in the service and had struggled with stairs ever since. Plus Will suffered from diabetes. Nick had helped remodel the man's house to make his life less difficult. Still, chasing those kids couldn't be easy, so Nick tried to check in on the family every now and then.
Nick knocked on the door and waited. A couple of moments passed and the door opened. Will stood there wearing a too-small frilly apron and a pink feather boa. His young granddaughter, wearing bright red lipstick and a tiara and a tutu, peeked from behind him.
Will ducked his head sheepishly. “Sara was feeling a little down and wanted a princess tea party. Her brother, Jacob, is visiting a friend.”
“You wanna play tea party?” Sara whispered.
Will looked at him in desperation. Nick didn't have the heart to turn down either of them. “Sure,” he said. “But I can only stay a couple minutes.”
“Thanks,” Will murmured.
“Just don't put those pink feathers anywhere near me,” Nick said, following Will and his granddaughter to the den. “How have you been doing?”
“Pretty good. My insulin's under control at least for the moment. The kids are doing okay in school. Sara's in kindergarten and you know Jacob is in third grade.”
“That's good to hear,” Nick said and looked at the tiny chairs and table in the room. “I'll break that chair if I sit on it.”
“That's okay,” Will said. “She lets me sit in a regular chair. Here, let me pull one overâ”
“No, no,” Nick said, quickly cutting him off and scooting a chair toward the table. “So, you like school, Sara?”
Will cleared his throat. “Princess Sara,” he corrected.
“Oh,” Nick said. “So, you like school, Princess Sara?”
She nodded and pointed at two tiny teapots. “Would you like tea or water?” she whispered.
“Tea is Kool-Aid,” Will said. “She's giving me water because of the diabetes.”
“Smart girl. I would like water, please. Princess Sara,” he added.
She gave him a shy smile and poured a tiny cup full of water for him. Nick ate a cookie and made conversation with Will and Sara then said he had to go. Will walked him to the door.
“Thanks for indulging her,” Will said in a low voice. “She's been asking for her mother lately.”
Nick nodded sympathetically. He knew that the children's mother had died in an automobile accident when Sara was just a baby. “That's tough. Are you sure there isn't something I can do?”
“Not unless you can send a woman out here when Sara's wanting female companionship,” he said.
“You're doing good,” Nick said and patted the man on his back. “You wear that apron well. With all the women in town from this gal rush, you would think I could find one for you.”
Will shook his head. “Not for me,” he said. “I'm way past time for romance. I just wish I could find someone to help Sara when she's feeling down.”
Nick nodded. “I'll see what I can do,” he said. “You call me if you need anything, you hear?”
“I'll remember your offer. Thanks for stopping by,” Will said.
Nick returned to the rooming house with the Duncan family on his mind. As soon as he entered he smelled something baking in the kitchen. Although Melba did a lot of the cooking, she'd hired a part-time woman to help since the rooming house had always been full since the flood. Melba also gave Cecelia free rein in the kitchen. Cecelia usually doubled her recipes in return for the use of the kitchen.
Nick's mouth watered. If Cecelia had baked something, he was going to be first in line for any extras. That woman could cook. He strode into the kitchen and saw a batch of cupcakes cooling on a rack while Cecelia bent over to pull more from the oven. Nick eyed Cecelia's backside appreciatively then shook his head at himself and focused on the cooling cupcakes. He shouldn't be feeling these kinds of feelings for Cecelia. He was influenced by the scent of her baking. That was it, he told himself. Besides, these cupcakes didn't look as if they needed frosting to him.
“Don't even think about it,” Cecelia said as she turned around. “These are for the elementary school kids. They're having a Harvest Festival and I'm donating fifty cupcakes.”
“Don't you need a taste tester? You need to make sure they're up to snuff. I can help with that.”
Cecelia rolled her eyes.
“Tell the truth. You're making extra. You always make extra,” he said.
“You act like you're deprived, but I know you have a different woman cooking for you every other night,” she said.
“None of them cook as well as you do,” he said.
“Flattery,” she muttered. “Okay, you can have one, but I'm not frosting them untilâ”
“Don't need frosting,” Nick said, then grabbed the nearest one and took a big bite.
“I'm surprised you don't have a date tonight,” she said.
“I canceled,” he admitted. “I'm going to be working a lot more on the lodge, so I'm going to have to rework the rest of my schedule.”
“Oh, poor Nick. No admiring ladies for a while,” she said.
“I didn't say none. Just less,” he said. “I also stopped by Will Duncan's to check on him.”
Sympathy immediately softened Cecelia's gaze. “Oh, how is he doing? I stopped by with a meal last month, but I haven't been back.”
“He could use some female companionship,” Nick said, and finished eating the cupcake.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, really?”
“Not so much for him, but for that little kindergartner. Poor guy was wearing a pink feather boa to get his granddaughter out of a funk,” he said in a lowered voice.
She bit her lip in smothered amusement. “Now, that's a man,” she said. “A veteran grandfather dressing in feathers for his granddaughter. It doesn't get better than that.”
“Well, I joined the tea party, but drew the line with the feathers. Thank goodness she was a little afraid of me or I would have been wearing a tiara, too,” he muttered.
“What I would give to see that. Better yet to get a photo and share it with the world,” she said in a wistful voice.
Nick narrowed his eyes at her. “You are a tough woman,” he said. “Maybe you should act a little softer. That might help you get a couple dates.”
Cecelia snorted. “If I'm too tough for a guy, then he's not the right one for me.”
“Maybe you shouldn't be so picky,” he said, eyeing the cupcakes.
“I'm doing okay,” she said. “Brent Mullins took me for wings yesterday afternoon.”
Nick frowned. “Brent Mullins. That name is familiar.”
“He's a supervisor at the mill. He moved out of town for a while after he and his wife split. He's back now because he doesn't want to be too far from his son.”
“Hmm,” Nick said, unable to keep the disapproval. “So he's divorced. Are you sure you want that kind of baggage?”
“Look who's being picky now,” she said. “He seems nice enough. He coaches his son's soccer team.”
“Well, you be careful. I don't want you getting your heart set on him,” he warned.
“I'm surprised you're so concerned. You told me I need to be softer and nicer,” she said.
“Not with the wrong guy,” he said then glanced again at the cupcakes. “Can I have just one more?”
“Okay,” she said in a mock grudging voice. “You are such a kid when it comes to sweets. While I'm at it, I'll make an extra batch for the Duncan kids.”
“I'll deliver them,” he offered, reaching for his second cupcake.
“That's okay. I'll find another way,” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I want the cupcakes to arrive intact,” she told him in a crisp voice. “Not half-eaten.”
* * *
The next morning, Cecelia crossed paths with Beth Crowder, the part-time cook at the rooming house, as Cecelia loaded her car with cupcakes for the elementary school.
“Hey there,” Beth said. “Those cupcakes look awfully good. You've been a baking machine.”
Cecelia smiled at the friendly middle-aged woman. “Last night I was,” she added. “I made an extra batch for the Duncans after I talked with Nick. Will Duncan sure has taken on a lot with his grandchildren. It may not be much, but the kids will enjoy these. Oh, darn,” she said. “Will has diabetes. What was I thinking sending these cupcakes to them?”
“The kids can have them,” Beth said and thought for a moment. “He can have fruit and nuts. He would be able to share those with the kids, too.”
“That's a great idea. I just wish I had time to hit the grocery store today,” she said.
“I can do it. I'm going grocery shopping for Melba this afternoon,” Beth said. “I just need the address.”