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He couldn’t help but notice how gracefully she crossed the room to the rear of the building, her gently waving hair flowing down the back of her petite frame. Just beyond the staircase she paused to look in an open door. “A half bath, too? Perfect.”
“And a kitchen in the back.”
She hadn’t yet mentioned her intentions for the space, but Hunter Ridge would likely be welcoming another handmade candle shop or stained-glass studio for the summer season. Not exactly what the town needed. At least, however, the town council—one member of which he had the privilege of calling Mom—might sleep better at night with another source of income added to the roster.
He watched with more interest than he was willing to admit as Delaney poked her head into the kitchen, then peeped out the back door window before returning to the main room and heading up to the loft, her footsteps sounding lightly on the wooden stairs.
The next thing he knew, she peered down at him from over the low wall, dimples bracketing a wide smile. “Just as I thought. Love at first sight. Where do I sign?”
No haggling? No pointing out that he’d already laid claim to the previous person’s forfeited deposit so he could afford to cut her a sweeter deal? But in this economy, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Come on down, then, and we’ll do business.”
While few Hunter Ridge natives cared for the influx of newcomers, the bottom line could be a hard taskmaster. But the interlopers would pay well to snag a piece of this mountain country paradise. For that very reason, Delaney’s showstopping smile would serve to little advantage. While the engaging look she occasionally cast his way sparked an almost forgotten flicker of masculine satisfaction, he tamped it down. He had neither the time nor the energy for flirtatious females.
Been there, done that.
And, God help him, he was still paying the price.
* * *
Less than an hour later, Luke Hunter rose from behind a wooden desk to drop two keys into Delaney’s outstretched palm.
“Welcome to Hunter Ridge.”
“Thank you.” But despite his hospitable-sounding words, it was clear the sober-eyed Luke Hunter wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of renting the place to her. Not that he was hostile, exactly. Maybe resigned was a more accurate word.
In a town with too many empty storefronts, you’d think he’d have laid on a thick coat of persuasion to prevent her from marching down the street to the next available space. Instead, when they’d retreated to the offices of Hunter Enterprises, across the blacktop road and a few doors down from what was to be her new summer abode, he’d practically tried to talk her out of signing. But parking limitations, minuscule dimensions of the apartment, and precautions regarding the woodstove didn’t faze her in the least.
This summer was to be a chance not only to help the local church youth ministry while remaining conveniently close to her aunt in Canyon Springs, but an opportunity to find out if her artistic talents held any merit. Would her skills eventually rescue her from a lifetime with her nose pressed to a computer monitor?
“I can hardly wait to move in.” She stood, tucking the keys and paperwork into her oversize woven purse, a tingle of anticipation skimming up her spine. But whether that was solely rooted in God leading her to an ideal property for the summer or founded in the somewhat hesitant smile her handsome new landlord had just bestowed, she couldn’t be sure.
Probably a bit of both.
She rewarded his effort with a high-wattage smile of her own, but he frowned ever so slightly and abruptly stepped to a shelving unit to purposefully peruse its contents.
Was he shy? Unsociable? Or a man with more important things on his mind than the eagerness of a new tenant embarking on a summer adventure?
Nevertheless, she again couldn’t help but notice how he held himself with an almost military bearing, the overhead light that illuminated his neatly clipped, sandy brown hair also emphasizing the strong planes of his face. No, he didn’t appear to be a man who’d empathize with her bubbling enthusiasm, nor had she missed the flicker of censure in his eyes when she’d presented her photo ID. He’d clearly been unimpressed by the evidence of her recent California residency.
Finding what he was looking for, Luke pulled a navy blue folder from a shelf and handed it to her. “Hunter Ridge Chamber of Commerce” it proclaimed in raised lettering. The possible significance of his last name and that of the community hadn’t been lost on her.
“Although you can find this information online, I keep a few of these on hand.” He motioned to the folder as she flipped through its contents. “Since water, gas and electricity are included, you won’t need to make those arrangements. You mentioned, too, that opening a business isn’t your intent, so those sections won’t pertain to you, either.”
“The space will be my studio.” Loving the sound of that—so artistic and professional—she proudly held out both hands, palms downward, to display her rings. “I make jewelry and hope to sell it through the Hunter Ridge Artists’ Cooperative.”
The corners of Luke’s mouth dipped downward, but he made no comment. Instead, he briefly studied the varied ring designs, then gave a brisk nod. “Very nice.”
“Thanks.” She slowly drew back her hands, irritated with herself for hoping to hear something more along the lines of a few oohs and aahs. When had she become so insecure, constantly in need of reassurance regarding her craft?
A telltale muscle tightened in her throat. Since both Aunt Jen and Dwayne Moorley dismissed her artistic efforts as having no significance, that’s when.
She drew in a reviving breath. “I’ve been making jewelry for myself and friends since a high school art class introduced me to working with silver. But it’s time to see what the rest of the world thinks.”
“I wish you the best, then.”
Would it be too much to hope that friends and family members would feel the same? If she turned her back on the education her aunt had sacrificed to provide for a pretty much penniless, parentless niece, there would be few who wouldn’t think her a foolish and most ungrateful young woman. She no longer cared about Dwayne’s opinion, but would Aunt Jen ever forgive her?
With that sobering thought, she nevertheless managed a cheery farewell, and spun toward the door, away from Luke Hunter’s probing gaze.
“Oh!”
Tottering dangerously, her attempt at a poised exit faltered as the dog she’d tripped over leaped aside with a pitiful yelp.
Luke caught her by the upper arm with a steadying grip. “Are you okay?”
Warmth crept into her cheeks as she stared for a too-long moment into his intense blue eyes, her heart beating at an erratic clip. Then, with a self-conscious laugh, she slipped free of his grasp and stepped away, once again secure on her own two feet. “I’m fine, so you can relax. I’m not the suing type.”
He looked momentarily taken aback. Then glanced down at the German shepherd that had retreated behind his master. “It’s fortunate, then, that Rags isn’t, either.”
Shouldn’t that quip have been accompanied by a smile? But she didn’t spy so much as a trace of a grin on his face.
Nevertheless, she knelt down to call softly to the dog and, after only a moment’s hesitation, he trotted to her, tail wagging, to be petted. “Sorry, big guy.”
Amends made, she rose to her feet once more, only to be caught off-guard by an unexpected sadness in Luke’s eyes. She’d stepped on his dog, tossed out ill-received lawsuit humor and made peace with the pup. Surely none of those things had wounded his feelings.
But he didn’t look inclined to share his thoughts, so she bid him a hasty adieu and departed.
Once outside, she paused to catch her breath and take in the hodgepodge of older stone and frame buildings along the tree-lined road. Some snuggled against each other as if for mutual support, others were stand-alones with towering ponderosas pressing in close. A few, obviously vacant, stared almost forlornly at their more fortunate, occupied neighbors. But despite evidence to the contrary, Delaney sensed the promise of renewed life in the community.
A life she hoped to tap into this summer.
Her heart lightening, she angled across the road to her new home, then trotted up the steps. The summer held so much potential, a freedom she hadn’t experienced since college graduation. And who was to say she couldn’t arrange to bump into Luke Hunter more frequently than anticipated? After all, this was a small town.
And he did have amazing blue eyes.
No wedding ring, either.
She snatched up a flier tucked into the edge of the door, then inserted the key in the dead-bolt lock. If she could somehow banish that cheerless look she’d glimpsed and coax out a few smiles, the summer might be especially fun.
But she’d barely gripped the doorknob when a shadow emerged from the corner of her mind, halting her flight of fancy. With a sigh, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Would she never learn? As Aunt Jen often reminded, when something—or someone—looked too good to be true, it usually was.
* * *
Standing in the shadows, Luke held aside the office curtain and gazed toward the property Delaney Marks would be occupying for the next three months. She’d unlocked the door, briefly disappeared inside, and was now pulling a suitcase out of the backseat of her car.
“You’re not going to believe this, big guy,” he said to the dog seated at his feet. “She’s moving in already.”
Big guy. That’s what his wife had called Rags from the time he was a tiny puppy. Odd that Delaney called him that, too, though he wasn’t the largest of his breed.
Luke’s gaze lingered as the new tenant tucked a floral sleeping bag under her arm and dragged an oversize pink suitcase up the porch steps. Talk about an optimist. She was eager to stretch her wings. To reach for her dreams. To taste all life had to offer.
He’d been like that once. A long time ago.
But watching her now, bubbling with energy and excitement, made him feel...old.
With an almost cheerful announcement that she was currently unemployed due to a layoff, she nevertheless hadn’t flinched when writing a substantial check. And when he’d requested ID, she’d handed him a Golden State driver’s license that confirmed his suspicions—she’d be only twenty-seven come August. But her birthdate also served as a reminder that nineteen years ago when he’d left Hunter Ridge, thinking that at age eighteen he was rough and tough and all grown up, she’d barely reached the tender age of eight years old.
Practically a baby.
Yeah, she was a pretty, vivacious little thing and it had been a long time since a woman had caught his eye. But he was an old codger in comparison. A father of two teens and an eight-year-old, a man weighed down with responsibilities that a young woman would want no part of.
“She’s as close to my son’s age as she is to mine,” he said aloud with a shake of his head.
The dog bumped against his leg as if in sympathy, and Luke noticed Delaney had returned to the car to haul out a box from the passenger-side front seat.
“I should go over to help her unload, don’t you think?” he said to Rags. “That would be the neighborly thing to do.”
But before he could turn away from the window, a white minivan with a Christ’s Church of Hunter Ridge logo pulled up next to her car. One of Luke’s cousins—a younger bachelor cousin—hopped out of the driver’s side with a welcoming smile.
Garrett, who already had to beat women off with a stick.
“Just as well.” Luke tugged the curtain back into place. Despite the not-so-subtle signals that she wouldn’t be opposed to getting to know him better, he’d steer clear of Delaney Marks.
He drew in a heavy breath as a too-familiar weight settled in his chest. No cradle robbing for him.
Besides, what kind of woman would take to a man who’d as good as wished his wife dead?
Chapter Two (#ulink_2a81e5c7-4c44-558a-8e53-917f0c194be9)
“Let’s get Luke over here and see if he can figure this out.” Pastor Garrett McCrae gave the microwave’s buttons one last pointless push. Then, with an it-beats-me shake of his head, he stepped back. “There’s a trick to it and he’ll likely know it.”
Delaney looked up from where she was seated on the ceramic-tiled floor beside an open cardboard box, searching for another mug and a wider variety of teas.
“I hate to bother him.” While she didn’t mind seeing Luke again—only thirty minutes after they’d parted—she didn’t want her new landlord to think she’d be a problem tenant.
“No biggie.” Garrett pulled out his cell phone and punched in a speed dial number. “That’s why God created cousins. For bothering.”
“You and Luke are cousins?”
He nodded as he held the phone to his ear. “His dad is my mom’s brother.”
Delaney mentally logged that enlightening bit of information as she studied him, looking for a family resemblance. Maybe in the eyes, though Garrett’s were more gray than blue and accented with laugh lines. His hair was darker as well. Older than her but younger than Luke, Garrett and his cousin hadn’t come from the same mold.
When the call was picked up on the other end, Garrett immediately launched in. “Hey, cuz. I’m helping our summer youth volunteer get moved in to Charlie and Emma’s old place and— What? Yeah, right. You let that slip by you?” Garrett chuckled. “You’ll appreciate that she’ll be keeping teens with too much time on their hands out of trouble. Anyway, the microwave downstairs isn’t working.”
Delaney watched as Garrett paused to listen intently, then he gave her a thumbs-up before pocketing his phone. “He’s on his way.”
Anticipation mingled with apprehension. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m going to be a nuisance.”
Garrett shrugged. “Being pestered is good for him. Gets him out of his comfort zone.”
Having moved back to the main room to wait for Luke, the door standing open to admit the scent of sun-warmed pine, they again marveled at their providential good fortune. Only last Sunday evening Garrett had been in contact with her aunt’s pastor in Canyon Springs—who happened to know of Delaney’s availability for a summer position.
“I can hardly believe the perfect timing,” Delaney concluded. “With Aunt Jen’s health in question, I needed an excuse to stick relatively close by this summer.”
“Believe me, we’re more than happy to have you here.”
“I’m glad. And thanks for helping me carry in my stuff.”
Garrett glanced at the suitcase, sleeping bag and boxes by the door. “This isn’t everything you have, is it?”
“It’s all I could cram in my car to bring over this afternoon. The apartment in Sacramento was furnished, so I’ll be borrowing furniture from my aunt and friends in Canyon Springs. I do have a few more boxes, clothes and my bicycle.”
“I’m sure folks here at the church will be happy to loan you whatever else you may need. As I’d mentioned earlier, with our youth intern forced to pull out at the last minute, you’ll be considered an answered prayer.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said the low, mellow voice of the pastor’s cousin, carrying from the open door. “Better plan on a few disgruntled looks when Delaney is introduced on Sunday rather than David.”
She turned to Luke with a laugh, trusting his comment was teasing, even though his tone didn’t reflect that. “I hope no one is too disappointed.”
He shrugged, unsmiling. “You never know.”
Okay, maybe he wasn’t teasing.
“Disappointed?” Garrett shot his cousin an aggravated look. “Not a chance.”
“I’m giving her fair warning.” Luke leaned a broad shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. “Last Sunday you were singing the praises of that college kid, claiming he’d be a big draw for the local teens with his background in biblical studies and enthusiasm for outdoor sports. You got the boys fired up that he was big into hiking and mountain biking.”
Luke cut an apologetic glance at Delaney as if to acknowledge it was no fault of hers that her only claim to fame was making jewelry. Then his eyes narrowed in speculation as he directed a pointed look at his cousin.
Garrett merely offered a serene smile. “God moves in mysterious ways.”
“Right.” Luke pushed away from the door. “Now let’s take a look at that microwave problem.”
He strode to the back of the building, Delaney almost scampering behind him, eager to explain why his afternoon had been interrupted.
“Pastor McCrae—I mean, Garrett—attempted to warm a mug of peppermint tea, but—”
“Peppermint tea?” With a glance in Garrett’s direction, Luke raised disbelieving brows.
The pastor only shrugged, his impish smile unapologetic.
“Anyway,” Delaney continued, wanting Luke to get the full story, “when he put the mug in the microwave and pressed the start button, nothing happened.”
“Zip,” Garrett confirmed. “I told Delaney there’s probably a trick to it. A secret knock or something.”
Luke took a slow breath, his tone dry. “There’s a trick to it all right.”
