“Hey, 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 over—”
“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 until—”
“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.”
“Oh, you’re an angel. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” Cecelia said. “I’ll put a few cupcakes in for you and your son.”
“He’ll appreciate that,” Beth said wryly. “I drive a pretty hard line on healthy eating.”
“Thanks again. You’re the best,” she said and scribbled down directions for the Duncan house. “I’ll see you soon.”
Cecelia started running and didn’t stop until after five o’clock. She listened to a voice message from Brent Mullins inviting her to join him for a beer at the Ace in the Hole. Half-tempted to beg off because she was beat, she waffled over her decision for a moment then returned his call. She’d been wanting a date. Now that she had one with a nice guy, she shouldn’t turn it down. She told Brent she would meet him in a half hour and planned to grab a sandwich and freshen up. She supposed she’d better reapply her red lipstick. It had worn off long ago.
After scarfing down a half sandwich, then splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth and applying lipstick, she raced to the bar. She spotted Brent at a table with two beers. He waved and stood, and she walked to the table. “Hi. It’s been a crazy day. How about you?” she asked.
Brent pulled out a chair for her. “Not bad for a Monday in Rust Creek Falls,” he said and sat down to take a sip of his beer. “My son got a good report from school, and I took him for a burger at that fast-food place on the way to Kalispell.”
“Did you get him a milkshake?” she asked.
He smiled and nodded. “I sure did.”
“Good dad,” she said.
His smile faded slightly. “I’m working on it. What made your day so crazy?”
“Cupcakes. Lots of cupcakes and a renovation I’m directing just outside town,” she said and took a sip of her beer.
“Cupcakes,” he repeated. “And you didn’t bring any for me?”
She couldn’t help but be amused. “Sorry. I imagine they’re mostly gone.”
“Then maybe you’ll have to make it up to me,” he said.
Cecelia felt a slice of discomfort and swallowed a gulp of air. “Um—”
“You’ll have to bring me a few cupcakes next time you make them,” he said.
Relief rushed through her. “Oh, right. I’ll try and do that,” she said and took another sip of her beer.
“Good,” he said and smiled. “Hey, you play darts?”
“A little,” she said.
“Wanna play?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said and they headed to the bar to get their darts.
Two hours later, Brent escorted her back to the rooming house. The silence felt a bit awkward. They stopped at the bottom of the steps to the house.
Brent shoved his hands into his pockets. “You could have told me you were a dart shark,” he said.
She bit her lip. “Sorry. It was natural instinct.”
“You really whipped my butt,” he said.
Cecelia said nothing, because well, she had indeed whipped his butt.
“I’ll get you next time,” he said and kissed her on her cheek then walked away.
Cecelia blinked. A gentleman, she thought. How refreshing. She smiled to herself and bounded up the steps and into the house. She heard Melba watching the television.
“Is that you, Cecelia girl?” Melba called.
“It’s me,” she called and entered the den.
“Have you been out with a man?” Melba asked.
“I have,” Cecelia said and giggled. “And he’s pretty nice.”
Melba smiled. “Well, good for you. It’s about time. You have a good night, you hear?”
“I will,” Cecelia said. “You, too.” She ran upstairs and nearly collided with Nick.
“Whoa,” he said, steadying her with his hands. “What’s the rush?”
“Nothing,” she said, feeling suddenly breathless. “Just got home.”
“Oh, really?” he said, studying her carefully. “Where have you been?”
“Just at the bar. Kicking Brent’s butt at darts,” she said, unable to contain her glee. “I think he may have been a little peeved, but he acted like he still wants to see me again.” She giggled and stopped abruptly because she wasn’t the giggly type.
Nick wagged his finger. “Don’t trust him too much,” he told her.
“Give me a break. He kissed me on the cheek,” she said and raced up the rest of the stairs.
“The cheek is the first step,” he called after her.
“Chill out, big bro. It’s not even first base,” she said and went into her room and closed the door behind her. This was getting fun, she thought. She might even put on a skirt or dress soon.
Two days later, she received a text from Nick. I have another prospect for you, it read. Tonight at the doughnut shop at 6 p.m. His name is Darrell.
“Darrell,” she murmured to herself and shrugged. Another night out.
As usual, she didn’t have a lot of time, so she splashed her face with water, grabbed a half sandwich and put on her red lipstick. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she walked to the bakery and looked around. She spotted a man wearing a Stetson in the back of the doughnut shop and wondered what she should do.
The man rose and walked toward her. Wow, she thought. He was pretty hot.
“I’m Darrell,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “Are you Cecelia?”
She bit her lip to keep from wincing at his squeaky voice. “Um, yes.” She extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry I can’t stay long. Early morning for me tomorrow.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “We can get together another time. Which doughnut do you want?”
Cecelia turned to the bakery case and checked out the selection. “Chocolate frosting,” she said. “What about you?”
Darrell shrugged. “I don’t eat sugar,” he said. “Bad for the body.” He flexed his muscles and she could tell that he was one of those guys who spent a lot of time working out.
This was going to be a long hour, Cecelia thought. She took her doughnut and cup of hot chocolate and chatted with Darrell for longer than she wanted. As soon as etiquette would allow, she excused herself. “It was great meeting you,” she said.
“I’ll walk you back to the rooming house,” he offered in his squeaky, soprano voice.
“Not necessary. I’m working on my running. Gotta keep moving. Thanks bunches,” she said and ran from the doughnut shop. By the time she arrived at the rooming house, she felt as if she were almost going to have a heart attack.
“That you, Cecelia?” Melba called.
“It’s me,” Cecelia returned, out of breath.
“You okay?” Melba asked, appearing in the doorway of her den, a concerned expression on her face.
“I’m okay.” She took several heaving breaths. “Nick set me up.”
Melba stared at her. “Was it a good setup?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Cecelia said, finally catching her breath.
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry,” she said and gave Cecelia a hug.
Cecelia hugged the sweet woman in return. “Thanks. You can help me kill him tomorrow.”
Melba laughed. “I’ll let you be in charge of that. Good night, darling.”
“’Night,” Cecelia said and slowly made her way upstairs. She dived into her shower and savored the spray on her face and body. Two dates in a week. The second one hadn’t worked out, but things were still looking up. She wondered why she didn’t feel more optimistic. Why couldn’t the men she met be just a little more like Nick?
Cecelia panicked at the thought. No, no, no. She took a deep breath and told herself it wasn’t Nick that she wanted. She just wanted someone like him. Who was overwhelmingly attracted to her and open to commitment.
* * *
Nick’s brother Dean had invited him for dinner several times, but he’d always been too busy to accept. Nick finally showed up on a Thursday evening. He climbed the steps of the porch to the cozy four-bedroom house and knocked on the door. Dean had married single-mother Shelby last year, and the newest branch of the Pritchett family—including Shelby’s daughter, Caitlin—were as close as Nick had ever seen.
The door opened and Caitlin appeared, now a cute six-year-old wearing braids. “Uncle Nick,” she said, with a broad smile on her face.
“Hi, Caitlin,” he said, grinning in return. “I like your braids,” he said and gave one a gentle tug.
“My mom did them. My dad isn’t very good at braiding,” she said in a whisper.
“I won’t tell,” Nick whispered back.
“Come on in,” Shelby called from another room.
Nick caught a whiff of home-cooked food and drooled. “Smells good,” he said, walking toward the dining area.
His brother Dean walked toward him from the hallway. “How’s it going?” Dean asked.
“Not bad,” Nick said, patting his brother on the back.
Dean looked at Nick. “I’m surprised you’re still in town. I thought you would have gone back to Thunder Canyon.”
Both Dean and Nick had temporarily relocated as volunteers in Rust Creek Falls after the terrible flood. Their father had founded Pritchett & Sons Woodworking in Thunder Canyon, and their other brother, Cade, had stayed behind with his family to keep the business going.
Dean had fallen for Shelby, and their family was happy in Rust Creek Falls.
“I like the people here,” Nick said. “I didn’t expect to like it so much, but I do. Plus, now I have my contracting business. Amazing what a little ad in the Rust Creek Rambler can do for you.”
Dean chuckled. “Sounds like you’re keeping busy.”
“I am. And if I’m lucky, I may find a piece of land for myself,” he said.
“Sounds serious,” Dean said.
Nick cracked a half grin. “I try not to be too serious,” he said. “Life’s too short for that.”
“Have you talked to Dad about it?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. He groaned and grumbled a little bit then told me to stop by now and then because Cade and Holly would miss me,” Nick said of his brother and sister who still lived in Thunder Canyon.
Dean nodded. “Sounds like Dad. He changed after Mom died. He just can’t seem to express much affection.”
“Nope, but raising us through our teen years without her had to be tough,” Nick said. The sudden death of their mother had left a hole in the family that had never been filled again.
“I made a beef stew in the Crock-Pot,” Shelby called as she walked from the kitchen to the dining area. Nick was thankful for the interruption. “I hope that works for you.”
“Anything you make works for me,” he said to his sister-in-law.
She smiled in response. “You’re a flatterer.”
“Me?” he said, putting his hand to his chest. “I’m just a grateful bachelor.”
“You don’t have to be a bachelor,” Shelby said. “You could have just about any woman you want as a wife.”
“That would involve marriage,” Nick said. “And the thought of marriage makes me sick. Please don’t ruin this good meal.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Have a seat. I won’t hassle you anymore.”
Nick sat down with Dean’s family and enjoyed the meal.
Toward the end, Dean quizzed him. “So, what kind of place are you looking for?”
“Just a few acres. Land first, house later. I won’t be moving out of the rooming house anytime soon.”
Dean gave a slow nod. “No special woman?” he asked.
Nick laughed. “No chance. I’ll let the rest of you get married. Looks boring to me.”
Shelby reentered the room and hugged Dean from behind. “We’re anything but boring.”
Nick covered his ears in mock humor. “No, no.”
“You’re just jealous,” she said.
She was joking, but he felt the stab from her comment deep inside him. Nick avoided commitment because he’d experienced far too much pain when he’d been younger. He and his family rarely discussed the loss of his mother, but it hovered there, always in the background. Through the loss of his mother, he’d learned that nothing was certain. He could depend on no one except himself.
* * *
The next morning, Cecelia grabbed breakfast because she wanted a real meal. Thankfully, Melba always put out a terrific spread for her guests. Eggs, pancakes, bacon—and superstrong coffee.
“Eat up,” Beth said as she dished more eggs onto Cecelia’s plate. “You’ve earned it.”
“I’m working on it,” she said. “Thank you again for taking those cupcakes to the Duncans. How did that go?”
“Fine,” Beth said, diverting her gaze. “Now eat your breakfast.”
Cecelia wondered at the cook’s response, but was hungry enough that she didn’t want her food to grow cold. She savored her eggs and blueberry pancakes. Yum.
“So, how’d you like Darrell?” a very familiar voice asked.
Cecelia nearly choked on her pancake as she met Nick’s gaze as he sat across from her with his own plate. “What?”
“Darrell. How’d you like him?” he asked.
“He was very nice,” she said.
Nick frowned. “Why doesn’t ‘nice’ sound good?”
“Because he sounded like a cartoon mouse,” she said.
Nick’s frown deepened. “I didn’t know a deep voice was a requirement.”
“It isn’t,” she said. “But I can’t kiss a cartoon mouse without laughing.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be this particular,” he said.
She smiled. “I guess it’s one of my charms,” she said with a smile and took another bite of a blueberry pancake.