BY THE END of the week, Emily felt even worse for her new friend. Alaina had visited Wild Rose Cottage on both Wednesday and Thursday and Mike had ignored her both times. Now it was Friday, and Alaina was ignoring him.
“I just came by to ask you to a barbecue on Sunday,” Alaina told her.
A barbecue?
Pleasant images rose in Emily’s imagination. She’d never been to a real Western barbecue, just catered events in Los Angeles that pretended to be Western ho-downs. “That sounds fun. Where will it be?”
“At my folks’ spread, the ‘historic McGregor Family Ranch,’” Alaina intoned impressively and then laughed.
“Do they live in the original house?”
“No, the first McGregors decided they didn’t like the original location and built a new place just nine years after settling in Montana. But part of the current house dates from the 1880s.”
Emily was excited. She’d never been to a living breathing ranch.
“It’s amazing to have that kind of history right at your fingertips,” she said.
“Yeah, except when the teacher at school uses your family to illustrate a Montana State history lesson,” Alaina returned wryly. “Anyhow, the barbecue is for Mom’s birthday. But no gifts! I meant to invite you before and forgot.”
Emily hesitated. “I shouldn’t intrude on a family gathering.”
“We’ll also have lots of friends and neighbors and Mom will be thrilled if you come. She’s crazy about you.” Alaina winked. “She says you’re an asset to the community. A real gem.”
Warmth went through Emily. She’d never gotten unqualified support in her life, and it was lovely to encounter it unexpectedly.
“Okay, I’d love to attend.”
Just then Trent came through the hallway with a load of lumber balanced on his shoulder. Along with the new bay window, it turned out that every downstairs window frame needed to be replaced due to rot and other damage. The ones on the second and third floors were probably just as bad, but she was trying not to think about it. Luckily Trent was considered tops in historic restoration, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem getting everything to look right.
If they ever finished. Admittedly, she’d come up with several extra projects. It was making things even tenser around Trent, even though she’d said she understood if they had to come back later to do them.
“Hey, Trent,” Alaina said. “Emily is coming to Mom’s party. Isn’t that terrific?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.”
While he nodded politely, Emily suspected he wasn’t pleased. He continued into the living room where he’d set up various pieces of woodworking equipment. The window frames had to be custom made and it was slow, tedious work. Still, she was impressed with how patient he could be...when it came to construction.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” she murmured, glancing into the other room and seeing how grim he looked.
“Don’t be silly,” Alaina whispered back. “Trent likes to keep work and social relationships separate, but you’re my friend and I have the right to ask whoever I want. Besides, I work for him and I’ll be there.”
Quietly they moved out to the patio.
“Are you sure?” Emily said. “He seemed to tense up when you told him I was coming.”
Alaina made a wry face. “That’s just Trent being Trent. I love my brother, but he’s hard to understand. Mom and Dad worry because he’s so withdrawn and solitary. Do you suppose it’s because our folks died and they adopted us? I mean, I think of my aunt and uncle as Mom and Dad, but I doubt he does.”
“Well, he remembers your folks, and you don’t, so maybe it feels disloyal to think of someone else as his parents,” Emily said slowly. She was trying to envision Trent Hawkins as a child, without much luck.
“But Mom and Dad are terrific.”
“I suppose experiences affect people in different ways.”
“I guess.” Alaina looked at her cell phone. “It’s late. I’d better get back to the office.”
She marched past Mike in the kitchen without a word and Emily decided if she ever got stupid enough to reconsider her stance on romance, she should remember what Alaina was going through. The woman was dazzling and still couldn’t get Mike to notice her.
Sighing, Emily went back to work on the wallpaper. Once in a while she glanced at Trent, who was concentrating on the window frame he was crafting.
“The frames look great,” she ventured when he’d stopped the table saw for a moment.
“I could still order modern, double-paned windows. They’d insulate better.”
“Except they wouldn’t look as good with wild roses climbing around them,” she retorted.
“I suppose you think the house wouldn’t ‘like’ modern windows...you know, the kind that save money and make everything more comfortable.”
His mocking tone put Emily’s teeth on edge. She didn’t mind the crew’s gentle amusement about her ideas, but Trent’s scorn was the same as pouring itching powder on her nerves. Besides, while installing double-paned windows with vinyl frames might be the “sensible” choice, it didn’t fit the vintage appeal of Wild Rose Cottage. At any rate, it was her decision and she was paying for the privilege, so why was he so negative?
She almost snorted. People had described Trent as ornery, and they hadn’t been exaggerating.
* * *
ON SUNDAY TRENT reluctantly headed for the McGregor ranch shortly before noon. His first choice would have been to ditch the birthday barbecue, but it would have hurt Aunt Sarah’s feelings.
Sarah’s father was the first guest he saw.
“Good afternoon,” he said. Since his mother had been Uncle Parker’s sister, he had no genetic relationship to Walt Nelson. Alaina called him Grandpa Walt, but Trent usually managed to avoid using a title of any kind.
“Afternoon, Trent. Your crew came out and fixed my chimney last week.”
“That’s good.”
Walt narrowed his eyes at him. “I asked for a bill and they said to check with the office. Now Alaina tells me she can’t find it.”
“Guess you lucked out.”
“I don’t need any gifts.”
“Walt, they were there for less than thirty minutes. Check with me when they’re needed for over an hour.”
Walt glared, and Trent went into the backyard to say hello to Aunt Sarah, who hugged him and scolded when he placed a gift in her hands.
“I have everything I need,” she told him. “Well, almost everything, but what I really want can’t be wrapped in paper.”
He knew what she was referring to: grandchildren.
“I’ll leave that to Jackson,” Trent told her. His cousin’s recent marriage to a former high school sweetheart had brought two grandchildren into the fold. Since Jackson already had a daughter, Morgan, it had tripled Sarah’s blessings, as she called them.
“Humph,” she grumbled. “You’re all too stubborn.”
Trent stayed with her until one of his great-aunts arrived, then headed to the barbecue grill. If he couldn’t stay away, he’d stay busy. It didn’t work; he got chased off by Uncle Parker. So he donned his swim trunks and dove into the pool.
* * *
EMILY SWUNG BY the market deli early in the afternoon and bought broccoli salad to contribute to Sarah McGregor’s birthday celebration. When pressed, Alaina had admitted that the party was partly potluck, but insisted Emily shouldn’t bring anything.
“Poppycock,” Emily had retorted. “Bringing something is part of the fun.”
It had been a relief to shed jeans and T-shirts for the day and wear a soft blouse and skirt with sandals. Since there was a pool, Alaina had told her to bring a swimsuit, so it had gone into the trunk with an outrageously colored beach towel.
Parking in front of the large ranch house, Emily saw a bunch of vehicles were already under the trees. Alaina must have been watching, because she met her halfway to the house.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you around.”
Leaving the salad with the housekeeper, Emily followed Alaina into the backyard.
Sarah McGregor hurried over and hugged her. “I’m so glad you came,” the older woman enthused.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you. I didn’t realize what house you’d bought until Alaina told me, and now Trent is fixing it up. That makes you one of the family.”
Emily was sure that Trent wouldn’t agree, but decided not to worry about him. And she succeeded until she saw him bare-chested, wearing his swim trunks.
Whoa.
He was trim, muscled and thoroughly male.
She ordered herself to look away—she refused to turn into one of those unwanted women who leered at sexy men.
Alaina seemed determined to introduce her to everyone and the names and faces began to blur. Luckily she’d already met some of them around town.
Madison, Alaina’s sister, had recently moved to Seattle and hadn’t been able to make it back. But another sibling had arrived unexpectedly and he jumped up to give Alaina a hug. Josh was the foreman at a ranch down in Texas.
“Texas?” Emily asked when they were alone again. Considering the McGregor and Nelson ranching tradition in the Schuyler area, it seemed odd that he was working so far away.
“It’s complicated. Josh is waiting for Mom’s father to retire and give him the ranch,” Alaina explained. “It was decided a long time ago that he’s to get the Nelson spread, but Grandpa Walt can’t seem to let go. Grandma and Grandpa Nelson are over there.” She motioned toward an older couple.
“I met Mrs. Nelson when she came into my store a few weeks ago, but I didn’t realize she was Sarah’s mother.”
“Yup. I’m sure there are too many McGregors here for Grandpa Walt’s taste,” Alaina whispered mischievously. “Not me, of course. I don’t have any Nelson blood, but he’s forgiven me for that shortcoming.”
“I understand the Parkers and Nelsons used to be ranching rivals.”
“That’s right. Then Mom and Dad got married and it all had to end. Now they compete by playing horseshoes. I think Grandpa Walt is up by two games.”
It sounded fun, but Emily didn’t have a chance to ask for details before she was introduced to Alaina’s brother Jackson and his wife, Kayla. They were the son and daughter-in-law Sarah had shopped for at the Emporium. It was almost depressing to see the attractive couple. Was everyone in Montana that happy and good-looking? Well, all except Mike Carlisle—he didn’t seem happy, though he got more than his share of points in the looks department.
The gathering was exactly what Emily had imagined a Western barbecue would be. Someone had even brought a banjo, and someone else played a harmonica. Everyone was warm and cordial...with the exception of Trent. He only nodded politely at her, but she also noticed he didn’t appear cozy with anyone.
Too bad. They were a great bunch of folks.
* * *
TRENT HAD PLANNED to avoid Emily at the party, but she and Alaina ended up at the same table with him.
“How on earth did I get so much food on my plate?” his sister demanded as she sat down.
“Beats me,” Emily replied. “I asked for a small steak and got half a cow.”
“Mmm,” Alaina said after munching down a mouthful. “The broccoli salad you brought is divine. The deli just added it to their lineup.”
“I would have made something, but I’m lacking some equipment at the moment. You know, sink, kitchen counters...a stove.”
Trent forked a bite of the same salad into his mouth. Odd combo of flavors—broccoli with bacon, onions and raisins—but it wasn’t bad. He finished his meal quickly and relieved Uncle Parker at the grill so he could sit with his wife.
Although everybody ate heartily, there was a pile of leftovers. He moved the meat into pans and put them into the large refrigerator that he’d installed when building the outdoor kitchen three years before. It had been a gift for his aunt and uncle’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, chosen because they entertained so much.
With the grill cleaned and the housekeeper hustling the remaining food into containers, Trent was once again left without a task. Casual conversation wasn’t something he did well, so he returned to the pool, pulled off his T-shirt and dove into the water.
Hmm. Perhaps he should build a pool at the Balderdash. The house was just a place to sleep, but swimming was healthy exercise.
Upon opening his eyes, his gaze was caught immediately by Emily. She stood poolside in a sleek white suit that confirmed his speculations about her physical endowments. Her figure was extremely nice, something he’d rather not think about while still working on her house. Not that he was going to do anything about it, either before or after the renovation was completed, since Emily didn’t seem the sort for casual affairs and she wasn’t his type of woman in the first place.
Unfortunately his body didn’t care if she was off-limits, and he was grateful that the water in the pool was cool.
* * *
WHEN ALAINA WAS ready to leave the barbecue, she wrapped a steak and several chicken hindquarters in heavy foil, and drove to Mike’s condo.
“Hi,” she said when he answered the door, handing over the package of food. “We had tons left, so I brought you a bribe. You don’t have to give me an answer right now about the auction, but—”
“I’ve already given you an answer.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Certain answers just fly past my ears without being heard. I’ll see you Monday.”
Wheeling, she started for her car, almost expecting to see the meat she’d brought him go sailing past her; Mike still had a great throwing arm. But she got to her Audi without having to deal with flying meat.
Alaina drove away, controlling the trembling in her hands with an effort. She needed to focus. Her firm in New York had sent a stack of work and needed it back by Monday morning. That was okay; at least it would keep her from thinking what an idiot she was to hang around Schuyler, hoping to catch Mike’s attention.
Emily had pointed out a couple of times that Mike wasn’t necessarily indifferent, no matter how he behaved. That was some comfort, but it didn’t mean he was in love with her, either.
Yeah, she was an idiot, working on moron status.
* * *
EMILY HUMMED AS she drove home. The harmonica and banjo players had put together an impromptu band, getting her to beat some bongo drums that Jackson McGregor had unearthed from his childhood. She’d played drums in the high school marching band and had forgotten how much fun it was to help make music.
Most of the partygoers had joined in the singing. Not Trent, but she hadn’t expected him to relax his stiff exterior.
It was interesting. Sarah and Parker McGregor clearly loved their niece and nephew just as much as their biological children, but while Alaina returned the affection, it was harder to tell about Trent. There wasn’t anything contentious or negative in how he interacted with his family. He just didn’t seem comfortable with them.
Emily sighed with exasperation. She was spending too much time thinking about the guy. Of course, he was in her house almost every day, so naturally he was part of her mental landscape.
Unfortunately, she was used to guys seeing her as ordinary. And maybe she was supersensitive because of her ex-fiancé, who’d thought she should have been grateful he wanted to marry her, despite his cheating. At least she’d dented his monumental ego when telling him where to go...and giving him directions.
Back at Wild Rose Cottage, Emily reminded herself that she’d had a wonderful time at the barbecue, despite Trent. And in a month or two the house would be remade and he’d be out of her hair.
That was a cheerful thought.
But an odd sensation hit her as she opened the front door. Nervous chills ran down her spine and she was certain that the house felt nervous, as well. Walking from room to room, she found nothing had been disturbed, but she couldn’t shake the conviction that somebody had been inside while she’d been gone. Could they still be there? Upstairs, perhaps?
She reached for the phone, drew back, then grabbed the receiver and called the sheriff’s office. While waiting she parked herself next to the front door, ready to open it and run like hell if necessary.
Five minutes later there was a firm knock. Emily peeked out and saw a tall man in a sheriff’s uniform.
“Good evening,” he said as she opened the door. “I’m Carl Stanfield.”
Emily heaved a sigh. “I’m Emily George. It probably sounds silly, but I can’t help feeling someone has been in the house. It’s ridiculous because there’s nothing worth stealing. Big Sky Construction is remodeling, so there’s hardly anything here.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll check everything. Wait on the porch.”
Twenty minutes later he came back. “I’ve gone over the entire house, basement to attic, including the closets and showers. No one is here, now at least.”
Her tension eased. “You must think I’m a terrible goose,” she told him.
“Nope. I’ve known men and women both who can imagine an intruder out of a stray piece of lint. But you don’t seem the type. In any case, here’s my card. Promise you’ll call if something doesn’t feel right.”
She smiled. “Okay,” she agreed and tucked the business card into her smartphone sleeve.
Jeez, the people in Schuyler were nice.
* * *
TRENT PREPARED TO leave the family barbecue, grateful the ordeal was concluded.
“Thank you for the lovely paperweight,” Sarah said as she hugged him good-night. “Where did you find it?”
“Over the internet,” he explained. “It’s made with a little ash from Mount St. Helens.”
They’d visited the national monument in Washington State a month before the formal adoption had been finalized. He still remembered standing at Windy Ridge, looking out at the devastated mountain as they asked if he minded...with a quick assurance his last name would remain Hawkins. He could have told them that he wasn’t proud to be a Hawkins, but his mouth had remained stubbornly shut.
Aunt Sarah plainly recalled the same moment, because her face became even more emotional. “That makes it extra special, but you didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I wanted to. Happy birthday, Mom,” he managed to say, in almost natural tones. The glow in her eyes made him feel guilty—calling her Mom was what meant the most to her. She rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
“Good night, dear.”
He drove home and dialed into the message center when he saw he had voice mail.
“Trent, this is Carl Stanfield,” said the voice. “Emily George mentioned that you’re remodeling her house. She called this evening, concerned about a possible intruder. I checked it out and made sure the doors and windows were locked, but wanted you to know. The place isn’t that secure and she’s there on her own.”
Trent cursed silently.
If Emily had moved into an apartment while the work was being done, there wouldn’t be any questions about her safety. Even better, if she’d let him have the property, there wouldn’t have been any concerns at all.
* * *
TRENT STOPPED AT Big Sky Construction the next morning to pick up the locks he’d ordered for Emily’s house. He quietly circled the property when he arrived. There was more than one sign of forced entry, but he couldn’t tell if any were fresh. Aside from that, there was no way to know how many people had a key. It was unlikely Bob Webber had changed the locks for new tenants, and Emily might not have considered it worth the trouble with the planned remodeling.
All at once Trent frowned, recalling Webber’s eagerness to get inside, supposedly to see the renovations. Was he anxious enough to break in? A vision of Bob Webber going to prison was immensely appealing, but Trent promptly dismissed the possibility; he was prejudiced against the guy. Besides, why would Bob care so much?
Eduardo was the first member of the crew to arrive and Trent took him aside. “Change the locks on the doors and fix the windows so they can’t be jimmied easily. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” The windows he’d already reframed shouldn’t be an issue—so far the ones he’d finished were all decorative, rather than functional.
“Has there been a problem?”
“Possible intruder.”
“We’ll get it done. Can’t leave our Em unprotected.”
Fortunately, Emily was so busy trying to remove layers of wallpaper, she didn’t seem to notice the crew working to secure her windows and doors.
At noon Trent handed her a new set of keys. “The hardware has been sticking,” he explained. “Replacing the locks is in the contract, so I decided to take care of it now, rather than waiting.”
Her head cocked and her eyes narrowed.
“Liar,” she accused. “The sheriff called you, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” he admitted, “but it isn’t a big deal.” Trent didn’t know which way she would jump—anger that he’d done something to help, or anxiety because he’d felt it safer to fix the locks.
A grin lit up Emily’s face and she laughed. “I’m not used to such wonderful small-town unity. It’s amazing.”
Her enthusiasm was confusing and Trent could only chalk it up to her previous life in an impersonal city. He might cultivate his reputation as an ornery polecat, but he believed in taking care of his neighbors. Most folks in Schuyler felt the same, so it didn’t mean he was behaving like the hapless prince in a fairy tale, rescuing maidens right and left.
Doing the right thing was important—he just didn’t want to be a chump.
“Thanks,” Emily said.
It was hard to evaluate what was in her mind. One minute she told him off for trying to help her against Bob Webber, the next she was celebrating small-town unity in looking after neighbors. Perhaps it was just another example of her flakiness.