Angie finished her wine and went inside. It had gotten dark and was too cold to sit outside any longer.
The cabin was storybook perfect. The exposed beam ceilings and the pine flooring were nothing like the bland apartment she had in Portland, where the walls were so thin she could hear the flush of her neighbor’s toilet.
Here, everything was…cheerful. The kitchen cabinets were painted in a shade of green that reminded Angie of the outdoors. A cowhide rug anchored the living room where two sofas faced each other, and a large antler chandelier hung over the coffee table. There were drapes on the windows and paintings on the walls. Cash and Aubrey had left nearly everything for the next tenant to enjoy. She supposed it was a benefit of being part owner in a furniture store.
It would be a good place to stay while she figured out her future. The open skies, the big trees, and the green hillsides alone were transformative. And while she relished the time to herself, it was a comfort to know Tuff was just across the creek. Sawyer and Gina swore by him. And while he appeared to be a private man, nothing about him came across as threatening. Though she’d proved to be a pretty bad judge of character.
She peeked out the window at the little cabin across the creek. Other than a light on in the living room window, all was quiet. In the kitchen, she made a sandwich and forced herself to eat it. In the last six years, she’d lost a good amount of weight. Funny, because she’d worked as a hostess in a restaurant, surrounded by food.
That was the thing about the Witness Protection Program. They placed you in jobs you’d never done before to further protect your identity. For her it had been easy. She’d never had a real job, so everything was on the table. Except farming. Farms would be the first place Burt, Zane, and their group would look for her.
The other rule was that she couldn’t have any contact with friends and family. And making new friends was difficult because everything about her was a lie. Her trumped up history, her fake name, and even her bogus age.
Here, she was liberated at last.
This weekend, her parents were coming. They’d be reunited after six long years. As much as Angie missed them, part of her dreaded the reunion. It was one thing being the family’s eccentric free spirit. A whole other to have unwittingly financed a group of violent survivalists.
It would be a long time before she could forgive herself, if ever. So many lives had been ruined by her choices. Diana’s, Rich’s, Kari’s, just to name a few.
She finished her sandwich and called it an early night, only to awaken at five the next morning. The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains, and she stepped out onto the porch to look at the sky and breathe in the clean air.
At first, she thought she was alone. But the sound of a thud in the water caught her attention. Tuff stood on her side of the shore, fishing.
She was just about to slip back inside when he called, “Mornin’.”
“Good morning.” She went to pull her robe tighter and realized she was only in her nightgown.
“I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
“No, not at all.” She watched him cast his line, a faint memory playing in the back of her head. “My grandfather used to fish early in the morning, before he rode out to check the cattle and the fences.”
“Best time.” Tuff grinned, showing off a set of not-quite dimples. He was a good-looking man, no doubt about it.
“Did you catch anything?”
He held up a bucket with a couple of fish. “Dinner.”
“Nice.” She looked up at the pink and orange striped sky. “You always rise this early?”
“Yep. I usually go for a ride but decided to fish instead. You?”
“I’m a morning person.” The fact was she hardly slept at all anymore. “I’m in the midst of making some career decisions.” For the world she didn’t know why she’d offered that information.
He simply nodded. “This is good place to think. It’s meditative.”
“You think?” She should’ve gone inside and put something on. Instead, she sat on the top step and hugged herself.
He gazed across the water at Banner Mountain in the distance and took a deep fortifying breath. “Yeah, I do. Something about nature puts everything in perspective, you know what I mean?”
She didn’t. But at least one of them had it figured out. She nodded anyway, though. “When I was a kid, I used to love this place. I’m glad Sawyer, Cash, and Jace figured out a way to keep it going. My grandfather would really be moved.”
“It was smart.” Tuff reeled his line in and cast it out again. “Ranching ain’t what it used to be. Land’s worth too much to run cattle. Ranchers sure could take a page out of your brother and cousins’ book.” He looked up at her. “You weren’t involved?”
“No. I mean a quarter of the ranch is mine, but I was…involved in something else when my grandfather passed.” She’d missed that too. Grandpa Dalton was one of the most instrumental people in her life, and she hadn’t even been there to say goodbye.
“But you’re back now.”
“I am.” At least for the time being, until she figured out her path. “Sawyer and my cousins want me to manage the market. They’ve got full-time jobs and I happen to be at loose ends right now.”
He slid her a sideways glance. “Retail, huh? So that’s your background.”
She had to keep herself from laughing. “Food service.” It was partially true. Her two jobs had consisted of working on The Farm and in a Portland restaurant.
“Not a journalist like your brother, then?”
“Nope. I can’t write my way out of a paper bag. Much to my parents’ chagrin, neither Sawyer nor I wanted in on the family business. They own a PR firm in LA. How about you? Did you always want to be a saddle maker?”
He blew out a breath of white air, put down his pole, and rubbed his hands together. “I wanted to be a rodeo cowboy. When that didn’t work out too well, I became a ranch hand. Somewhere along the line I discovered that I was handy with leather.” His eyes fell on her nightgown. “You must be cold.”
She got to her feet, tugging the flannel past her knees. “Yeah, I better get inside. Nice talking with you.”
“You too.” Before she walked away, he called, “I hope you don’t mind me using your side of the creek. More fish here in the morning.”
“No, of course not.”
She turned the heat up in the cabin and started a pot of coffee. When she peeked outside the window, Tuff was gone. She looked down at herself and sighed. Her nightgown was something her grandmother would’ve worn and her hair was probably a mess. Why it bothered her, she didn’t know. Angie had stopped caring about her appearance a long time ago.
With that in mind, she hunted through the closet that now held what few clothes she had. Over the years, she’d learned to travel light. And when she’d fled for her life, she’d taken just the clothes on her back. In Portland, she’d picked up a few things. But on a hostess’s salary she’d stuck with practical pieces she could wear to the restaurant. Her only splurge was a pair of designer boots she’d gotten at Nordstrom Rack on deep discount.
Maybe she’d ask her mother to bring clothes. In LA, at her parents’ home, she had a closet full of chic outfits. Things she’d gotten on Rodeo Drive a lifetime ago. Very appropriate for Dry Creek Ranch, she laughed to herself. But at least some good jeans and sweaters for the winter.
For now, she laid out a pair of leggings and a tunic top on the bed. By the time she got out of the shower, the coffee was ready. She lingered over a cup, contemplating whether to fry an egg. Perhaps some toast. Gina had stocked the refrigerator. But Angie wasn’t hungry. She’d grab something later, she told herself.
It was still early but she decided to hike up to Dry Creek Village anyway. She could explore until the shops opened, maybe drop in on Jace and Charlie to say hello to the boys before they left for school. Angie would find something to do.
The Christmas lights draped from the roofs of the businesses were still on, their glow faint in the morning light. Everything looked so festive. So happy. She followed one of the meandering paths along the creekside, enjoying the tranquility. She didn’t know how they managed to do it, but the center worked. It blended right in with the ranch without being too commercial. Or too Knott’s Berry Farm. Most of the buildings looked like old barns. And Refind actually was an old barn. Angie remembered it as being a bit ramshackle. Well, not anymore.
She kept moving, wishing she’d worn something warmer. That was the thing about fall in Northern California. One minute it was cold and the next balmy.
As she passed the florist, she caught her reflection in the glass door. Ugh. Her shirt hung on her like a gunny sack. She pressed her nose to the window and looked at the beautiful floral displays in the refrigerated cases. Lots of oranges and greens.
The lights were on in Tuff’s Saddlery, so she tried the door.
“In the back,” came his deep drawl.
“Oh, hi.” She went inside and peeked around the corner where he worked with a piece of leather on a big lighted table. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here this early.”
“I’ve got a couple of deadlines.” He didn’t look up, just stayed focused on whatever he was doing.
“I won’t disturb you.”
“You’re not disturbing me.”
“You mind if I look around, then?”
“Knock yourself out.”
She went back to the front of the store and explored the shelves. On a hook near the cash register was a gorgeous, tooled belt with a silver buckle that made Angie drool. She dared to try it on and moved to the full-length mirror to have a look.
“It’s too big on you.” Tuff came up behind her and reached around her waist to adjust the belt, sending a wave of warmth through her. “I’d have to lop off about four inches of leather.”
She couldn’t afford it anyway. There was a time when she would’ve whipped out one of her gold cards without even glancing at the price. Now, she only had one credit card. It was in Katherine Moore’s name, and it didn’t have a high enough credit limit to cover the belt.
“It’s beautiful.” She took it off, brushing against his calloused hands in the process, and hung it back on the hook. “Amazing craftsmanship.”
“Thank you. You waiting for the market to open?”
She didn’t really know what she was doing. “Uh-huh. Just killing time until then.”
“You want some coffee? I just made a pot.”
“I had at home. But I appreciate the offer. I really don’t want to take up your time. I know you’re busy.”
“Come on back while I work. If you’re bored, you can catalog a bunch of leather samples I haven’t had time to unpack.”
“I could do that.”
He showed her how to inventory each bolt of leather in the computer, and she got to the task, happy for something to do. For a while, they worked in companionable silence.
Occasionally, she’d sneak a glance at him while he concentrated on the pattern he was cutting. His long sleeves were scrunched up to his elbows, showing a pair of heavily veined forearms. On the right one was an intricate tattoo of a lasso. He’d said he used to ride in the rodeo, and she wondered if he was a roper.
His hands were large and rough and his nails neatly trimmed. She watched as they deftly molded the leather as he concentrated on his cuts. There was something sensual about it and she suddenly found herself aroused. Embarrassed, she turned away, fearful that he’d be able to guess what she was thinking.
It was odd because she hadn’t wanted to be with a man for a long time. Not since Zane. Now, the thought of Zane made her sick to her stomach.
“How you doin’ over there?”
“Good. About halfway done.” She entered another bolt number onto the spreadsheet. “Where do you get your leather?”
“All over. I try to stick with American but there’s some beautiful leather coming out of Italy and Brazil. India too. Some of my clients specifically request it.”
“What about leather from the ranch?” If you were going to slaughter a cow for its meat, Angie thought you should at least make use of the whole animal.
“Jace and I have talked about it. But tanning the hides…it’s a process that I don’t know either of us has time for.”
Angie had no clue what went into converting cow hide into usable leather. It was just a thought.
She plugged in more sample numbers, taking pleasure in being useful. The earthy smell of the cedar shiplap walls combined with the rich scent of leather reminded her of her grandfather for some reason. And listening to the swish of Tuff’s knife as he blocked out his pattern was oddly calming. Or maybe it was the efficient way he focused on his task. She was fascinated by him.
And unexpectedly attracted.
The front door chimed with a visitor.
“We’re back here,” Tuff called to the front.
A few seconds later, Sawyer strode back, carrying a stack of papers. “Hey, Tuff.” He did a doubletake when his eyes fell on Angie. “Ange?”
She felt like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t, which was ridiculous. “I’m helping Tuff inventory his leather while I wait for Daltons to open.”
“Oh…Nice.” He grabbed one of the stools at Tuff’s worktable and dragged it next to her at the computer. “How was your first night in the cabin?”
“Great.” She’d actually slept better than she had in months. The sound of the creek had lulled her into a deep, dreamless slumber.
She held Sawyer’s gaze, silently imploring him not to say more. Tuff didn’t need to know her sordid history. No one did.
Sawyer handed Tuff a flyer from his stack. “We’re throwing a dinner at the restaurant for all the shopkeepers the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. You can come, right?”
Tuff gazed at the flyer. “Is Gina cooking?” Sawyer nodded and Tuff said, “Then I wouldn’t miss it.”
Angie watched Sawyer’s expression fill with pride. She never thought she’d see the day when her big brother was crazy in love. And she couldn’t be happier for him. Gina was Sawyer’s perfect match. According to her family, it had taken Sawyer a while to figure that out. Angie only wished she’d been there to watch her hard-headed brother finally lose his heart.
She’d missed so much, including seeing her little cousins grow up. Well, there was time for that now. Time to make up for all those lost years.
“Deadlines call.” Sawyer got to his feet.
Angie pointed at the stack of flyers. “You want me to hand the rest of those out, so you can get to writing?” She had nothing better to do, and it would be a good way to meet some of the other shopkeepers. The center had been her family’s way of preserving her grandfather’s legacy, instead of losing it to back taxes. The least she could do was help out and get to know some of the merchants.
“Yeah, that would be great. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Ever since she’d returned, her brother and cousins had been treating her with kid gloves, clearly afraid she’d crack like a piece of glass if they asked too much of her.
“Of course.” She gave a tight smile as if to remind him Tuff was sitting only a few feet away. Tuff was liable to think Angie had just been released from a mental hospital—not witness protection. The two weren’t that dissimilar, she supposed. Four years, hiding in plain view was enough to make anyone crazy.
Sawyer handed her the invitations. “Then I’ll be on my way. Take it easy, Tuff. See ya later, Ange.”
“Bye.”
The bell over the door jingled as Sawyer showed himself out.
Tuff glanced over at Angie. “Don’t feel like you have to inventory all the samples.” He bobbed his chin at the flyers. “Looks like duty calls.”
She laughed and held up the stack. “This will take me less than thirty minutes to deliver, and I’ve got an hour until the market opens…unless, of course, you want the place to yourself.”
“Nope.” He grinned and those not-quite dimples reappeared. “I was enjoying the company. But I wouldn’t want to hog you for myself.”
He winked and she felt a second rush of inexplicable desire course through her. Maybe it was better that she did leave. The last thing she needed was a crush on her new neighbor. One of her vows after everything that had happened was to be ultra-cautious about who she let into her life.
Before, she’d been a revolving door. Not sexually, but she’d been too trusting, too giving, and too open.
Not anymore. She may have brought Angela Dalton back to the living, but there were characteristics of that girl that needed to remain dead.