A couple of days later, Izzy finished putting the last touches of whitewash on the newly built shelves Chase and Finn had constructed against the back wall of the new gallery, then stepped back to survey her handiwork.
Beth had gone into Queenstown again to investigate suppliers for jewelry materials, while Indigo had gone up the valley with Finn, who was going to introduce her to someone who had a sheep farm and who could possibly provide her with some local wool for her planned dye works. So Izzy had decided to finish painting the shelves on her own.
She had to admit they looked beautiful. The bare stone walls were to be left as they were, providing a lovely rustic backdrop, the perfect showcase for all the new products they’d soon be stocking.
Turned out Chase had been right. No matter that she’d charged into the gallery with a tape measure, angry with herself and how she’d let Chase’s bad temper rile her into behaving like an idiot and wanting to somehow make up for it by building the shelves herself, she probably couldn’t. Not when she’d never wielded a hammer in her life.
Accepting his help had been the most logical step, but she’d found it difficult. She was used to getting on and doing things herself, and it felt weird and almost wrong to let someone else do something for her.
Especially him. Especially when in the middle of hammering wood he’d stripped off his shirt because it had been hot. She’d had to leave at that point, making up some excuse to go to the Rose for something.
Stupid man.
She hadn’t expected him to come and find her after the aborted trek, and certainly not armed with an apology for his own shortness.
Really, though, the main problem was that she shouldn’t have let him get to her. But he had hit a nerve. When he’d told her to stop being so difficult, she’d felt exactly the way she so often had as a teenager after Zeke had left and her father’s patience had run thin.
“You’re always so damn difficult, Isabella,” he’d said curtly, after she’d tried to argue with him about something. “Always complaining, always arguing. Well, if you want anything from me, shut the hell up and do as you’re told.”
So she had shut the hell up. And she’d done what she was told. Because after Zeke had gone, she’d had no one else. No one but a shady father and a social-climbing mother, neither of whom were particularly concerned for her.
However, they were her only family and life had gotten a whole lot easier when she started to play the good-daughter role.
Apparently, though, difficult was all she could be anywhere near Chase Kelly. Especially with him swanning around being all competent and gorgeous and unspeakably sexy.
He continues to be a problem.
He was, damn him.
The sound of the door opening made Izzy turn, and Cait came in with Gus trailing along unexpectedly behind her.
Izzy hadn’t seen the girl hanging around lately and had wondered why and whether it had anything to do with her sudden revelation about her father while they were on the walk.
Putting down her paintbrush, she smiled. “Hey, you two.”
“Hey,” Cait said, while Gus glanced around the store curiously. “Can you do me a favor? Chase has been off up the river with some tourists, but he’s run into some trouble with the boat engine. Levi and a few others have gone to help him, but it’s looking like he won’t be back for a while, and I have to go to the vineyard to see Clive and Teddy about a few things.”
“Oh, sure. What do you want me to do?”
Cait nodded at Gus, who’d gone over to the shelves and was now inspecting them. “Can you keep an eye on her? I don’t know how long Chase will be, but it might be a few hours.”
Well, it wasn’t as if Izzy had a packed schedule or anything. And twelve-year-old girls surely didn’t require much in the way of input.
“Sure,” she said. “No problem at all.”
Cait grinned. “Great. Stick with Izzy this afternoon, Gus. Just until your dad gets home, okay?”
“Okay.” Gus sounded not at all bothered, still staring intently at the shelves.
Cait left and Izzy began tidying up the painting gear.
“I’ll just clean these brushes,” she said to Gus.
The kid nodded.
Izzy waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Huh. The last few times she’d seen Gus, the kid had been very chatty, so what was up? Was she annoyed at being dumped on Izzy? Or was this pretty much par for the course? Maybe it was. Gus must be used to being passed around to different people when Chase was busy.
“It didn’t matter that she had a kid who needed her, she decided she’d had enough and she left. And she never came back.” Chase’s voice from their conversation in the car a week earlier echoed in her head and she could still hear the suppressed fury in it, talking about his ex-wife.
The memory made a tight feeling gather behind Izzy’s breastbone.
Poor Gus. Her mother just…gone. Chase was a good man, a good father, she’d already learned that over the past couple of weeks, but with a business to contend with and the little town he saw as his responsibility to save, he couldn’t be everywhere at once. No matter that he’d said the town helped out, did this kid have anyone else apart from him to talk to?
Izzy couldn’t help thinking about her parents again and her own rather painfully lonely teenage years after her brother had left. Being the good girl, the perfect daughter. Getting a job in the family oil company, going with her mother to the country club and smiling politely for her mother’s friends. But her mother hadn’t really been interested in her, only in what she could do for her.
The tight feeling in Izzy’s chest twisted, but she shoved it away. She wasn’t thinking of her parents now. She had a kid to look after.
Picking up the brushes and pots, Izzy carried them down to the very basic little bathroom that lay through a door at the back of the store, dumping the lot in the sink. She began to wash out the plastic tub she’d been using for the whitewash, conscious all of a sudden that Gus had appeared in the doorway.
The kid didn’t say anything, only watched her.
Izzy kept washing. “You okay with spending the afternoon with me?”
“Oh, yeah,” Gus said casually. “Dad’s away a lot sometimes. I usually hang out with Uncle Finn or Levi, but they’re doing stuff.”
“You wouldn’t rather hang out with someone you know?”
“Nah. I asked Cait if you could look after me this afternoon.”
Izzy paused scrubbing the plastic tub and looked up in surprise. “You did?”
Gus looked back, gray gaze very open. “How come you don’t wear those skirts anymore?”
Izzy blinked at the sudden change of topic. “What?”
“Those skirts. You know, the really tight ones. And the shirts with the bows.”
Izzy blinked again, nonplussed. Were all twelve-year-old girls this direct? Or was it simply that having been brought up by her dad and uncle she’d adopted their manner?
Whatever it was, it was disconcerting.
“Is that why you wanted to hang out with me?” Izzy asked, deciding that she’d be direct back. “So you could ask me about the skirts?”
Gus leaned against the doorframe, kicking one sneakered foot against it. “Yeah. And other things.” She didn’t seem to find Izzy’s own directness disconcerting.
Okay then. Maybe that’s how all conversations with Gus went. She’d certainly been direct on the walk to the falls.
“I don’t wear those skirts and blouses anymore.” Izzy went back to washing out the tub. “They’re for an office. And I’m not in an office here.”
“They were pretty though.” Gus narrowed her gaze at the fitted pink T-shirt Izzy was wearing, the only thing she had that she didn’t mind getting paint on. “I like that T-shirt too.”
There was something quite determined in the girl’s tone, something purposeful. As if Gus had made a decision and was hell-bent on carrying it through.
Remind you of anyone?
Oh yes. It did.
Izzy rinsed out the tub, filled it with water and put the paint brushes into it to soak, then met the girl’s gaze.
Gus’s long, dark hair was in an untidy ponytail down her back, and she wore her usual uniform of loose T-shirt and jeans with holes in them, nothing out of the ordinary for a kid. Except Gus was on the cusp of not being a kid anymore. She was approaching young womanhood…
A young woman whose mother had left and had never come back.
That Gus was happy and healthy there was no doubt, but Izzy was abruptly sure that there was a reason the girl had been hanging around her and Beth and Indigo.
“What’s this all about, Gus?” She kept her tone as direct as Gus had been, since clearly the girl didn’t have a problem with it.
Gus pulled a face and glanced away, her cheeks pinking.
Izzy didn’t say anything, letting the girl come to whatever decision she was going to make in her own time.
Finally, Gus’s mouth firmed and she looked back at Izzy. “Okay, so it’s like this. There’s a boy I like in my class, but he’s never going to notice me if I keep wearing these.” She made an annoyed gesture at her own jeans and tee. “So I want to get some new stuff. Some…girl stuff. But I need someone to take me and someone who can…you know, tell me if it looks nice.”
The tight feeling in Izzy’s chest was back, tugging harder. “Your dad can’t take you?”
Gus rolled her eyes in the time-honored teenage way. “Dad? Seriously? He doesn’t want to go into clothes shops, and he’d just tell me I’d look good in anything. Then he’d wonder why I need more than jeans and T-shirts, since a skirt isn’t practical for going fishing or whatever.” She paused, giving Izzy a very serious look. “And I’m not telling Dad about this, okay? He can’t know.”
Maybe that was for the best. Chase was a protector and she could see him getting quite bothered about his daughter liking a boy.
Izzy folded her arms and leaned against the sink. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She hesitated, then added, “It is kind of uncomfortable though, to know something about you that your dad doesn’t.”
The girl frowned. “Okay but, like, I’m not doing drugs or anything. Or drinking beer.”
Izzy tried not to smile at that. “Sure. But if it gets serious, I can’t promise I won’t tell him.”
Gus rolled her eyes yet again. “Fine.”
“Are you really sure he wouldn’t want to go shopping with you? He helped me find some great boots.”
“He won’t.” Gus’s chin took on a stubborn tilt. “He’d just suggest I get some more T-shirts or something. Because they’re ‘practical.’” She said the word with so much disgust Izzy had to suppress another grin. “You see these clothes?” Once again she gestured at her outfit. “They’re Dad and Uncle Finn’s old clothes.”
Izzy stared at her. “Chase dresses you in his old clothes?”
Gus flushed. “Oh, it’s not too bad. I mean, I like them for mucking around in. And it’s good because it means if I get them dirty or rip them, it doesn’t matter.”
“But you’re still wearing your dad’s old clothes.”
Gus nodded. “I don’t want to be mean. Dad’s great and I know he cares about me a lot, but…”
“But you’re still wearing your dad’s old clothes,” Izzy repeated, appalled.
A small smile curved Gus’s mouth. “Yeah.”
Already Izzy could see where this was going. “Don’t tell me, you want to ask me if I can take you to get some new ones.”
Gus’s eyes got very big. “Would you? Those skirts were really pretty and I liked the bows on those shirts. And you had those high heels and—”
“They’re really for adults,” she interrupted gently, because she could imagine Chase’s face if his daughter suddenly turned up in a pencil skirt, a blouse with a bow, and high heels, and it would not be pretty.
“I still want something like that,” Gus insisted. “I want something pretty so Jamie will notice me.”
This was not exactly how Izzy had imagined her afternoon would go. But Gus had clearly come here with a mission and she’d chosen Izzy specifically, which made Izzy’s heart ache. That this girl should come to her, a stranger, with a request that was important to her.
And it wasn’t something that Izzy could refuse; she knew that already.
“It’s not clothes that make people notice you, you know that, right?” Because it had to be said. “It’s who you are that matters.”
Gus rolled her eyes yet again, clearly weary of such adult observations. “Oh, I know that. Jamie knows me already. He’s my friend. But I don’t want him to see me as just a friend.”
“That’s a problem,” Izzy replied, trying to think back to when she’d been twelve and in the throes of her first crush, though she wasn’t sure if she’d had any crushes at that stage. Boys hadn’t been on her radar at all, not until high school. She’d been too busy trying to be her mother’s perfect girl. “Have you tried telling him how you feel?”
Gus gave her an exasperated look. “Well, that’s what I want to do. But I want to do it wearing something pretty. I want him to know that I’m serious about him.”
Izzy was rather impressed. The girl was self-possessed and knew her own mind and obviously had no problems with expressing it, and that was a testament to Chase’s parenting. Because that kind of confidence only came from growing up knowing that you were loved. That you were accepted. And having your views and your opinions treated with the respect they deserved.
“I agree,” Izzy said after a moment. “If you want to go out and get something, you have to be serious about it. And if that means dressing the part, then yes, you should absolutely wear something pretty. You have to let him know that you mean business, right?”
Gus nodded emphatically. “Right.”
Well, there was nothing much else she could say. Gus had chosen her to come to with this request and she couldn’t say no.
“Okay, well, since you’re straight with me, I’ll be straight with you.” She pushed herself away from the sink, her decision made. “I don’t want to step on your dad’s toes or anyone else’s here, so you need to ask him if it’s okay if I take you out for a shopping trip first. But if he’s okay with it, then I am too.” She smiled. “In fact, I’d love to take you out if you’d like that.”
***
Chase was tired and grumpy by the time he managed to get home.
It was after seven at night and he’d spent all afternoon with a group of increasingly frustrated tourists whom he’d tried to keep happy, all the while attempting to fix an extremely temperamental boat engine.
None of it had gone particularly well, though he’d managed to cheer up the tourists by having Finn bring some horses down from Clint’s stables so they could ride back to Brightwater township, and then gave them a round of free drinks at the Rose before they all got on their buses to go home.
The boat needed to be put on a trailer and taken back to HQ, where hopefully Levi could work his magic with its engine since Levi could make just about anything go when he set his mind to it, and that had taken up a good couple of hours.
Then he’d had to unsnarl another booking stuff-up as well as helping Finn get the horses back to Clint’s, and now he was tired and bad-tempered because what he’d wanted to do at the end of the day was sit on the deck of his house, play a couple of games of backgammon with Gus—she was getting quite good at it—and then maybe watch a movie with her.
His time with her was precious, and he was very conscious that in a couple of years, hanging out with her father was the last thing she’d want to be doing.
Chase’s house was a ten-minute drive from the township and up a winding gravel drive. It had been built by his grandfather on the side of one of the hills above Brightwater Lake, and over the years Chase had added little improvements to it here and there. A wide deck at the front of the house to take advantage of the magnificent views over the lake and the mountains. A remodeling of the bathroom that Olivia had demanded. A big cast-iron wood burner in the living area that heated the house and the water. A kitchen update that he had to do in order to install another coffee machine like the one in HQ.
He loved his house. It was warm, comfortable, and surrounded by bush and had a history to it that was important to him—normally the best part of his day was finally getting home and being able to relax.
Yet he knew as soon as he walked in the door that something about it was different. He could hear voices in the kitchen. His daughter’s and…
Shit. Izzy’s. What the hell was she doing here?
His whole body tightened and his heart gave an unexpected and hard kick.
He’d had to get Cait to look after Gus today since he had a group to take up the river, and he knew that if Cait couldn’t manage it, someone else could always be found to keep an eye on the kid. The town had always been good like that, mainly because there weren’t many kids around and so the ones they did have were even more precious.
But he hadn’t thought that Izzy or any of the other Deep River girls would be roped into looking after Gus.
The sound of Izzy’s laughter drifted into the hallway. He’d never heard it before. It was low and husky and sweet, and set off something humming inside him.
He should be annoyed to find her here, irritated that she was in his territory having fun with his daughter, but for some reason he wasn’t. No, it was the opposite. There was something…good about the sound of her voice and her presence here. Something that almost felt like rightness.
Which was crazy. Nothing had changed between them. He still wanted her far too much for his own good, and building those shelves for her hadn’t helped. He shouldn’t have taken his shirt off, that had been unnecessary; but she’d been in the store at the time and he could feel her watching him, and so the wicked part of him had decided, well, why not give her something to look at?
Yeah, she brought out the rebel, the bad boy he’d never allowed himself to be, not even when he’d been young. Because he’d had a younger brother to be a role model for since their father hadn’t apparently wanted the job.
It wouldn’t have been an issue if he’d had that part of himself under control, but he didn’t. Not when she was around.
And now she was here, in his house…
Another part of him, the possessive part, had no problem with this whatsoever. That part wanted her here, could see no difficulty with it, and in fact, now that she was here, perhaps she could stay the night—
No. That was not happening. Chrissake, he needed to get himself together.
Shoving aside his persistent dick thoughts, Chase strode into the kitchen.
It was a cheerful, rustic space, with large windows that looked out into the bush and gave glimpses of the lake, furnished with wooden cupboards and long counters that he’d built, sanded, and varnished himself.
Standing at one of the counters, surrounded by packets of flour, containers of sugar, vanilla essence, baking soda, and lots of other baking detritus, were Izzy and Gus.
Izzy was currently stirring something in a mixing bowl, assisted by Gus who emptied something else into it before tossing the spoon she’d used into the sink, which was full of other dirty mixing bowls.
Flour dusted his counter, his kitchen floor, his daughter’s hair, and Izzy’s pink T-shirt. And when his boots crunched on the floor, he realized it wasn’t just flour everywhere either, but possibly sugar and maybe a few other unidentifiable things.
He stood there for a second, staring around at his previously clean and tidy kitchen, now a mess of flour, discarded measuring spoons, pantry ingredients, and dirty dishes. Then Izzy looked up briefly from her mixing bowl, dark eyes glowing and flour on her cheek. She was so lovely it hurt. “Hey,” she said. “Don’t worry, we’re going to clean up.”
Gus beamed at him from the other side of the counter that doubled as a breakfast bar. “We’re making cupcakes!”
Chase opened his mouth to say something—he had no idea what—but Gus continued before he could. “We made dinner too.”
“Dinner?” he echoed blankly.
His daughter went over to the fridge. “Yes, and there’s some for you.” She pulled open the fridge door, grabbed one of his favorite cans of beer, and took it over to him. “Here. Go and sit on the deck. I’ll bring a plate out for you.”
Chase stared at her. If he was late home, Cait would sometimes give Gus something at the Rose, or Finn, who lived in his own house farther up the driveway, would. Levi could put ramen in the microwave and had been known to fry an egg on occasion, but none of them ever thought about feeding his child and him as well. Normally he’d have to get his own dinner.
“Go on.” Gus made shooing gestures at him, clearly very pleased at the prospect of bringing him something. “Go and sit down.”
Izzy was too busy pouring out cupcake mixture into some ancient cupcake pans he hadn’t even realized he had.
It seemed stupid to argue, not that he even had a clue what he’d be arguing about, so he took the beer without a word, went into the living room, and opened the doors that led onto the big, wide deck out the front.
A few old wooden chairs were grouped together, but he sat down on his favorite, a long wooden bench with a back and a thick seat cushion to make it comfortable. In front of it was a low wooden coffee table that he liked to kick his boots up on whenever he sat down, and he did so now, relaxing back into the seat.
Normally he liked to sit there and enjoy the quiet and perhaps to contemplate the beauty of the intense mineral-blue of the lake against the deep dark-green of the bush.
But the view was the last thing on his mind as he picked up his beer and cracked it open, still thinking about his daughter’s bright face and Izzy in his kitchen, making bloody cupcakes of all things.
He hadn’t ever done any baking with Gus, mainly because he hadn’t ever thought about it—baking wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t thought it was Gus’s thing either, but she’d sure looked pretty happy.
In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her looking so excited.
Something in his gut clenched, but before he could identify what it was, Gus came clattering out the french doors from the living room, carrying a plate and a knife and fork. On it was a fresh-looking salad, a perfectly cooked steak, and a big pile of mashed potatoes.
He stared at it as Gus put the food down on the coffee table.
“There,” she said grandly. “Dinner.”
Chase took his boots off the table and looked at the plate, conscious that Gus was staring at him, obviously waiting for his reaction.
“This looks delicious,” he said honestly. “Did Izzy make this?”
“Yes. She thought you might be hungry.”
Izzy had made him dinner. Izzy had thought about him.
No one thought about him, not in that way. No one ever worried about him. No one ever cared if he was tired after a long day. No one was ever there to give him a beer, make him a meal, let him have a few minutes to himself.
Not even Olivia had done that for him.
The tight feeling inside him clenched tighter, but he didn’t want to think about it, not when there was this delicious dinner right in front of him.
So he leaned forward and picked up the plate, grabbing the knife and fork with it. “I thought Cait was looking after you today?”
Gus stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked on her feet. “She was. But then she had to go to the Granges’, so I asked if Izzy could look after me instead.”
Chase stared at her in surprise, momentarily distracted from his food. “What?”
Gus ignored this. “Dad, can I ask you something?”
He started to ask her whether it could wait until he’d had a least a bite of his steak when she went on in a rush: “I want to go out shopping with Izzy. Can I?”
“Shopping,” he repeated blankly. “With Izzy.”
“Yes. I want some new clothes and I want to go to town and Izzy said she’d take me but I had to ask you first, so can I? Please?”
Chase was very conscious that the word no was automatically forming in his mouth, driven by his usual protective impulses when it came to his daughter. But there was something in Gus’s face that made him say “I’ll need to talk to Izzy about that” instead.
“Shall I go and get her?” Gus asked excitedly.
He gave her a firm look. “Let me eat my dinner first.”
“Okay. I’ll go and tell her to come out when you’re finished.” She gave him a brief but tight hug. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, as if Chase had already given her permission, then vanished into the house, no doubt to tell Izzy the good news.
Damn.
He was tempted to go straight after her and sort the whole thing out now, but he needed to process how he felt about it because he still wasn’t sure.
And anyway, he was hungry.
So he sat out on the deck and ate the food that Izzy had cooked, which was very good indeed, and then sat back and sipped on his beer, taking a few moments to enjoy the unfamiliar sensation of someone looking after him.
Then, finishing the beer, Chase rose to his feet, picked up his plate and his cutlery, and went back inside.
In the kitchen, Izzy was putting the cupcakes into the oven, while Gus stood at the sink washing some bowls. The counters were a lot cleaner and the floor had been swept, and if it wasn’t quite up to his usual pristine standards, it wasn’t far off.
Gus put the bowl she’d been cleaning on the plate rack to drain, glanced at Chase, then announced loudly, “There’s something I need to do in my room. Can I wash the rest of these later?”
Izzy straightened up, also giving Chase a glance, though hers was much more enigmatic than his daughter’s. “Sure,” she said.
Gus dashed out, giving Chase a meaningful look as she did so.
He put his dirty dishes down next to the sink, then turned and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms.
Izzy was fiddling with the timer on the stove. The color of her flour-dusted pink T-shirt made her skin glow and her hair look glossy, and his ever-present desire tightened its grip. Did she feel any of this too? Or was it all him?
Not that they should be discussing that.
“So,” he said at last. “Want to tell me why my daughter has a sudden burning desire to go shopping with you?”