Chapter Two
Mia’s plane was late. Typical. Wyatt had arranged to have more time off during the next few weeks, which would leave him working a lot after the holidays, but he wanted to show Mia the sights, not to mention, Sean’s wedding would require some time off.
He watched the exit from baggage claim but so far he hadn’t seen her. A pretty, strawberry blonde walked out pulling two bags stacked on top of each other behind her, with a large backpack and a pair of ski boots hung over one shoulder and an equally large tote bag thing over the other. He’d have thought it was Mia except Mia always wore her hair in a long braid down her back. Except for that one night... Damn it, man, stop thinking about that night.
Right. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since it had happened. Not constantly, but more often than he should have if it had only been a one night thing. He’d thought about exploring what was between him and Mia, if it was simply friendship or could it be more. The timing had been all wrong, though. He’d still been too screwed up over what Loretta had done to be fair to another woman. Even Mia. Not too long after that, he’d moved, so he never got to see what might have been. But there was nothing stopping them now.
The redhead waved at him. Holy shit, that is Mia. She looked different. Great, but totally different.
He got out of the car and met her partway, pulling her into his arms and lifting her off the ground in a bear hug. “I couldn’t figure out who the beautiful redhead was.”
He started to kiss her but she turned her head so his lips landed on her cheek. At least she hugged him back.
He set her down and looked at her more carefully. She was thinner than she’d been. She’d always been slim, but she was even tinier than he remembered. He tugged on a strand of hair. “What did you do to your hair?”
“I cut it, obviously. Hello to you too.”
He grinned. Same sharp tongue. “It’s pretty, but I miss the braid.”
She shrugged out of her backpack and handed it to him. “I needed a change.”
“Good God,” he said, taking the pack. “What have you got in this thing? It weighs a ton.”
“Art supplies, mostly. I’ll still need to stop by an art supply store, though. If there’s not one in Marietta can we look here in Bozeman?”
“Probably safer to look here. No skis?”
“I decided it would be easier to rent the skis, but I brought my boots.”
“Good idea.” Wyatt stowed her luggage in the back of his SUV, then got in. He took another good, long look at her before he pulled away from the curb.
“You’re staring at me.”
“You look different. I guess it’s the hair.”
She frowned at him. “Different as in bad?”
He laughed. “Of course not. It’s pretty, I’m just not used to it. You’ve had long hair ever since I’ve known you.” Her hair was red, shot through with lots of blonde, which was even more apparent now that her bangs and jaw length cut emphasized it. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
He shot her another glance. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You’re thinner. You look like a strong breeze would blow you over.”
“Gee, thanks, Wyatt. Your hair is ugly and you’re scrawny. That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear.”
Open mouth, insert foot. “When did you get so touchy? I said your hair is different, not ugly. And I sure as hell didn’t say you were scrawny. But you seem”—he broke off, searching for the right word—“you seem a little fragile.”
“Fragile? When have you ever known me to be fragile?”
“I haven’t. That’s why I asked.”
“You can stop worrying. I had the flu and lost some weight.” Turning her head to look out the window, she asked, “What are these mountain ranges? Are they part of the Rockies?”
He wasn’t sure that was the truth but she clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “Yes. Both the Absaroka to the east and the Gallatins to the west are subranges of the Rockies. The Gallagher ranch is northwest of Marietta, on the Gallatin side of the valley.”
“You’re living at the ranch? You’ve never talked much about it. I never really thought of you as a country boy.”
“Born and raised, darlin’. Technically the ranch belongs to all of us kids, but my youngest brother, Dylan, is the one who runs it. I’m living there until I find my own place, but I’m not sure exactly where I want to live.”
They stopped at a large craft store and picked up the rest of the supplies Mia thought were necessary. He hoped that meant she’d stay a while. Now that she was here he realized even more clearly just how much he’d missed her. He’d dated some since moving back but falling for Loretta’s lies had made him gun-shy. Besides, there was always something missing.
Maybe that something was Mia.
Back in the truck and on their way home, Mia said, “You’re right, this is a beautiful area.”
“Itching to paint already?”
“Always,” she said with a laugh. “Tell me about Marietta. Do you like working at the hospital there? Do you miss Denver?”
“I don’t miss Denver, but I do miss some people. One in particular.” Mia didn’t answer and she didn’t take the opening. He hadn’t really expected her to.
That would be the problem. He didn’t know how Mia felt about him. Had she considered their night together a mistake? She hadn’t said. In fact, they hadn’t talked about it at all. Yet the more time that passed since that night, and the more Wyatt tried to forget it, the more he thought about it. Yes, he’d been drinking, but not so drunk that he couldn’t remember the details. Far from turning to Mia as a substitute for Loretta, he’d known he was with Mia every moment of that night.
He’d thought about Mia as more than a friend in the past. Wondered what it would be like if they moved from friends to lovers. They never had. One or the other or both had always been involved with someone else. But the night he found out Loretta had lied about everything, that absolutely nothing in their relationship had been genuine, the first person, the only person, he wanted to see was Mia.
Mia was a beautiful woman, even if she did downplay her beauty. Maybe that was the difference. She wasn’t downplaying anything now.
Even though he always liked long hair, he had to admit the new style suited Mia. She wore a fitted green sweater the color of her eyes. She had on new jeans too. Jeans that fit rather than bagged and were, at least for now, paint free.
Mia was a straight shooter. Her friends knew better than to ask her what she thought about something if all they wanted was someone to agree with them. She might agree with them, but if she didn’t, she said what she thought.
“What about you?” Wyatt asked. “Have you been doing anything interesting besides painting since I moved? New man in your life?”
He glanced at her and she was looking at him like he was crazy. “Do you think I’d be here if I had a man in my life?”
He smiled. “Just checking.” That was one problem out of the way.
Wyatt turned off the highway onto a rural road, eventually taking a long narrow lane posted with a sign that said “Gallagher Ranch”. The road had obviously been plowed earlier, but since it had been snowing for a while that morning, there were still a couple of inches covering it. Mia caught a glimpse of a house at the end of a driveway lined with snow covered trees. The yard in front of the house was pristine, untracked white snow. It was a beautiful, serene, winter wonderland picture that Mia instantly loved.
“Wait, I want to look at the house,” she said, when Wyatt started to drive around back. Even to someone accustomed to snow, as Mia was, the setting was almost idyllic.
Obligingly, Wyatt stopped and put the truck in park. “My grandparents built the farmhouse back in the nineteen-fifties. My parents updated parts of it during the eighties, before my mom died. It could use updating again, but with Dylan, and now me, being the only ones living here, that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”
“It’s perfect.” The white wooden farmhouse was framed by the falling snow and snow covered trees. Two-story with a massive wraparound porch, it looked exactly like Mia’s conception of a classic farmhouse, lived in and well loved.
“I have got to paint this. I love it.”
Wyatt looked at the house, then back at her. “I grew up here, so I like it, but it’s not anything special, you know.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Mia said. “It fits its function and surroundings perfectly.” She glanced at Wyatt who was regarding her with a half-smile on his face. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’re giving me a complex.”
He laughed. Turning to face her, he cupped her cheek, then brushed his thumb over her lips. “I really missed you.” And then he leaned over the console and kissed her.
It was surprise that held her still His mouth moved over hers, his tongue parting her lips to sweep inside in a leisurely yet certain rhythm. A touch to her tongue, a retreat, another tangle of tongues, longer this time. While it wasn’t quick, it wasn’t the longest kiss she’d ever had either. But it was effective.
Judging by the grin on his face when he ended the kiss, he knew it too.
Wyatt put the SUV in gear and drove around to the back. Mia didn’t speak for the simple reason that she had no idea how to respond.
“No one uses the front door. Well, maybe when the weather’s nice we’ll sit on the front porch and use the front door then, but almost everyone knows to come around back to the kitchen door. The kitchen and living room and a couple of bedrooms face the mountains. It’s a pretty view.”
The view wasn’t pretty, it was spectacular. The snow covered peaks of the Gallatin mountains rose majestically into the sky. The white against the backdrop of the true blue of the Montana big sky was truly breathtaking. Mia got out of the truck and simply stood and looked. There were a number of horses out in a snowy pasture, grazing around a pile of hay. A horse barn stood in the distance with all sorts of activity from people, dogs and horses. An ancient, red pickup truck was parked beside the barn, covered in snow. She wanted to paint it. All of it.
“You might want this,” Wyatt said, holding her coat so she could put it on.
“Oh, thanks. I was looking—everything is so beautiful. Oh, my, God, Wyatt. How could you stand to live in town when you can live out here? It’s gorgeous.”
“I’m a lot closer to the hospital if I live in town.”
“Does that matter? I mean, how far out is the ranch?”
“Not too far. But Dylan’s the rancher. It’s more his place than anyone else’s. Besides, breaking ice for the horses every morning and getting up before dawn when it’s in the teens outside isn’t my idea of fun.”
“That’s just in winter. I bet it’s wonderful in the summer.”
“Speaking of winter, it’s damn cold out here. Let’s get your stuff and go inside. I’m sure Glory has been staring out the window wondering when I’m going to bring you in and introduce you two to each other.” He slung her backpack over his shoulder and took the two suitcases out of the back.
Mia picked up her tote and followed him to the house. “Who is Glory?”
“She’s our longtime housekeeper. Glory’s been here longer than any of us have.”
The kitchen door opened and a woman said, “Wyatt Gallagher, what is the matter with you? You’ve had that poor girl outside freezing to death.”
“Glory, this is Mia. She lives in Denver. I think she’s used to snow.” He turned to Mia and said, “Mia, this is Glory. She runs the place.”
“Now, Wyatt, you know that’s not true.” A small, slim woman in her early sixties smiled at Mia and said, “Here, let me take your coat, Mia. Wyatt, you take her to the blue room. I got it ready this morning. You’re welcome,” she added pointedly to Wyatt.
“Thanks, Glory. You’re the best.”
“What was that about?” Mia asked as they left the kitchen.
“She’s annoyed at me because I forgot to tell her you were coming until this morning.”
“I hope I didn’t make a lot of extra work for her.” She followed him through a hallway, past what looked like the living room, to a set of wide, wooden stairs.
“You didn’t. She just wants everything to be perfect for you.”
“Why?”
He walked to the second door from the top of the stairs, opened it and stood aside to let her enter. “Glory is like a second mom to us. Anyone who’s important to one of us is important to her.”
“How does she know—never mind.” Better not to go there.
“How does she know you’re important to me?” Mia nodded. “I told her.”
What did that mean? Did he mean she was important to him because she was his good friend? Or did he mean something else? The only other time he’d kissed her like he had in the car was during the night they spent together. What did he want? Casual sex? A relationship? Or was he just fooling around?
And what the hell was she going to do about it? She hadn’t thought this through very well. He’d asked her to come and she’d said, “Sure thing.” Never mind the problems that would ensue. Or the lie standing between them.
She looked around the room. The curtains were drawn back from a big window that faced the mountains. “What a beautiful view.” The view from her apartment window in Denver was totally uninspiring. She could see mountains once she went outside, but her main view was of a busy street.
The bedroom walls were painted a light blue, matching the blue and white quilt covering the queen-sized bed. The headboard and footboard were a simple iron style. There was a writing desk against one wall with a bookshelf beside it and a small sitting area with a comfortable fabric chair, also in blue, a side table and a lamp. The floor was wood, which from what she’d seen so far, ran throughout the house.
“You were right. The view is amazing.”
“Before you go into an artistic frenzy, let’s go eat. Glory will have something waiting for us. She loves to feed people. Lucky for us, she’s a great cook.”