Ben followed Maggie as she walked down the trail toward the cabins. He tried not to be sucked in by her excitement for the project. He needed to stay focused on the facts, not how she felt about the place. It was hard to do when she practically bounced as she described the landscape he’d always taken for granted as a child.

He knew Maggie and his mom saw him as a stick in the mud. Someone determined to shit on their dreams. But that wasn’t what this was about. He’d do anything for his mom. And the best way for him to do that was to make sure she made the payment on her lodge and this land in time. If cutting and trimming their dreams let him do that, that’s what he’d do.

Ben looked up one of the trails on the mountain and laughed.

Maggie turned back to him, a questioning look on her face.

“Sorry. I just realized that’s the trail leading to the Kissing Cave.”

Her face flushed and she glanced up the trail. “And?”

He shrugged. She wouldn’t understand his humor. To Maggie Lawrence, the Kissing Cave was a place she’d gotten to carve her initials with other guys. Ben had always wanted to take her there, but she hadn’t known he existed. “Sorry, I was just thinking,” he shrugged again, “I don’t know. I was just wondering if it was still there, if people still went and carved their initials.”

Maggie nodded. “Carve your initials and kiss, and your love will last forever.” She looked up at the mountain again. “Or so the legend goes. It never worked for me, but your mom swore it worked for your dad and her.”

Ben looked up with a snort. “Let’s go.”

Maggie gave him a searching look, but turned, leading him through the woods to a small clearing.

“This,” Maggie pointed to an open area next to one of the cabins, “is where we’ll put a fountain and a Zen garden. Your mom has done all the research.” Maggie glanced back at him. “She’s really into all that stuff now.”

“Into what stuff?” Ben crouched and picked up a small handful of snow. It was unusually warm for January in Colorado and the patches were scarce, despite the snowfall they’d had just days before. He had to admit, he’d missed the wild mounds of snow in Colorado. Seattle was nothing but cloud cover and rain most days.

“Acupuncture, Thai Chi, yoga, all kinds of alternative Eastern medicine and philosophies.”

“Really?” Ben dropped the snow and dusted his hands, studying the area Maggie was motioning toward.

“Umm hmm,” Maggie hummed in response to his question.

He mentally crossed the Zen garden and fountain off the spreadsheet in his head. It was a foolish expenditure and one that could wait until after the loan was paid off. He could help his mom get everything she wanted, but it would have to happen over time.

“Why is she into all that stuff?” Ben asked.

“It started off with yoga. She took your dad to a class in town and he was hooked.”

“My dad?” What the hell had been happening around here while they’d all been gone?

“Umm hmm,” Maggie murmured again.

The noise vibrated through his body and certain parts of his anatomy stiffened. What the hell was wrong with him?

“My father took yoga.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, as though he was challenging her to repeat the claim. Or maybe he was challenging himself to accept the new image of his dad, an image that was slowly beginning to form the more time he spent at the Lodge.

“Yep.” She popped her “p” sound like she’d just pulled a lollipop from her mouth. Ben stopped, mentally shutting down every physical response his body had to the action.

Maggie glanced over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yep,” Ben echoed her answer, bending over to pick up a rock as he began to disassemble binary code in his head. Anything to get his body to settle down.

“So anyway,” Maggie continued, seemingly oblivious to his internal struggle. “Your dad was really enjoying his classes, so your mom started thinking about expanding, maybe having a place to hold yoga classes at the lodge.”

“More expansion. I don’t think so.”

Maggie shook her head. “No, it was just a vision for her for now. She knows it needs to wait. She wants these cabins and the surrounding area to be Zen-like, balanced, relaxing.

Ben wasn’t sure what Zen looked like, but he loved the outdoors.

“She designed the cabin layout so there’d be space out here to let people reconnect with nature,” Maggie continued. “Your mom cleared some land so teachers can hold classes outdoors. And, of course, in the winter, we can use the wedding barn for classes early in the morning before any events take place. But, that’s the extent of it for now. She’ll build the Zen garden down the road.”

“What kind of classes?” Ben arched an eye. He liked the idea of dual uses of the space and wondered if they could charge people from town for coming to the classes. The guests at the lodge could come for free, of course. Or maybe not. Maybe they could charge a health and wellness fee on top of the usual room cost if guests wanted to attend classes.

“Yoga, Thai Chi, whatever,” she said.

Ben glanced around as they continued to walk.

The area was much the same as it always had been, filled with large Blue Spruce and Ponderosa Pines that kissed the sky. Strategically dotted in between were slabs of concrete framed with half built cabins connected by intricate stone and pebbled pathways. They’d done a beautiful job of weaving the new additions into the landscape instead of simply plowing down lots and throwing cabins into cleared space.

He had to admit, just walking through the area was relaxing.

“What the hell is that?” Ben looked at the creature headed toward them. It was only when it started to weave its way between Maggie’s legs that he connected the feline gesture and figured out he was looking at a cat.

Maggie scooped the thing up in her arms and snuggled him close. “This is Lucky. He’s been here for years.”

Ben studied the animal. He appeared to be missing an eye, and half an ear. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He was protecting an old barn dog from a coyote.” Maggie said, nuzzling the thing. “I didn’t think a cat would go up against a coyote,” she explained, “but he did. Your dad and I got there just in time. Lucky was almost dead, but the dog had gotten away safely.”

“Huh,” Ben said, mustering a little more respect for the cat.

“Your dad scared the coyote off with a gunshot and we got him to Kayleigh Montgomery, the local vet.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand lovingly along the mottled fur of the cat’s back. His gray coat was littered with spots making him appear like a bobcat. “Lucky paid a high price for his bravery. He lost his eye and part of his left ear,” she said. The cat leaned into her touch.

“His name is Lucky?” Ben laughed.

“Yes,” Maggie answered through clamped teeth. “Kayleigh nicknamed him that during his stay at her clinic and the name stuck.”

“Maggie, he’s got one eye and a chewed-up ear.”

Maggie and the cat glared at him. “What part of, fought off a coyote do you not get?”

“He looks more like Rooster Cogburn.” 

“Who?”

“Rooster Cogburn. John Wayne?”

She shook her head, like she had no earthly idea what Ben was talking about.

“The one-eyed marshal from True Grit, he always looked perpetually pissed.”

“Like you.”  Maggie rolled her lips into her teeth, like she was willing herself to stay silent.

Was that really how people saw him? Perpetually pissed?

“I’m sorry,” she said, “that was rude.”

The cat hissed at Ben.

“Do you really think you should have such a vicious animal around the lodge? Don’t we have kids stay here?”

Maggie looked at him like he’d gone mad, and leaned to let Lucky jump from her arms. He stalked into the woods like he wasn’t used to having people criticize him and wouldn’t stick around for it. Maggie watched the cat disappear then turned to face him. “Everyone at the lodge loves Lucky. He’s a sweetheart.”

Ben let his raised brow answer her, but she didn’t seem to care what he thought. She continued down the path as though she hadn’t just let a mangled hellcat loose to torment and possibly traumatize their guests.

“So, here’s cabin number one.” Maggie held out her hand to a free-standing cabin.

“This one looks nearly complete.” Ben hadn’t known they were this far along on any of them. He needed to forget the cat and do a full-on assessment of the build out. This was worse than he thought. Construction was already well under way, which meant it would be difficult to stop and do line item cuts.

“It’s almost done on the outside,” Maggie said. “Come on, I’ll show you the inside.”

Ben stepped up on the small porch and turned to look behind him. The majestic Canyon Creek Mountain range stood strong in the distance. Ben could picture sitting out on this porch, staring off at the wilderness.

“Ben,” Maggie called from within the open door. He heard a hint of amusement in her voice, as though she knew he was picturing exactly what she’d wanted him to see. Their vision.

It wouldn’t matter. He could see her dream and it wouldn’t change a damned thing. Cuts had to be made. Maggie and his mother could live with their heads in the clouds—or the mountains. He needed to keep his eyes on the numbers so his mother didn’t lose the whole damned place.

Ben walked over the threshold of the small cabin, finding a nearly complete interior, as well.

“This is one of two efficiency cabins, with no walls to separate the bedroom.”

Ben studied the small space as he walked to the fireplace in the corner and ran his hand over the stone front.

Maggie laughed. “Your parents argued about that for weeks.”

“What?”

“Fireplaces versus wood stoves or a gas stove. The small gas stove made more sense economically I’ll admit. But…”

“But, my mom got her way?” He didn’t need a response.

“She said a fireplace was more romantic.”

Ben shook his head.

“Your Aunt Sally agreed with Valerie, for reasons you don’t even want to know about.”

“Oh brother, I know I’m going to regret this but now you have to tell me.”

“No,” Maggie shook her head, a pink blush creeping up her cheeks. “Trust me.”

“Come on.” Ben brushed a hand over Maggie’s arm.

She glanced down at the spot he’d touched. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Ben backed up and leaned against the opposite wall.

“She said,” Maggie cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the room, “that her naked body looked better from the glow of a large fireplace than an itty-bitty stove.”

Ben froze, mouth gaping.

Maggie placed a hand on her chest and raised the other in the air. “Hand to heaven—her words, not mine.”

Ben stood silent, trying to figure out a way purge his brain of that image.

“I know,” Maggie said, as if she could read his mind. “You want to undo the last thirty seconds of your life, don’t you?” She laughed wickedly.

“That’s just…wrong.”

“I warned you,” she said. “Next time, maybe you’ll listen to me.”

Ben studied her and wondered how she wasn’t gagging, too.

“Your dad reacted the same way and not another word was said about the stone fireplaces. I’m pretty sure your Aunt Sally and your mom planned the whole thing, but I’ll never ask.”

Ben scrubbed a palm down his face. Nope, didn’t work. The image was still etched in his brain. “Those two are a mess.”

Maggie shrugged. “Their strategy was actually brilliant.”

Their strategy may have worked on his father, but it wouldn’t on Ben. He made a mental note to be sure the rest of the cabins were outfitted with the stoves instead of fireplaces. It might be too late for this cabin, but they could charge a premium for it.

Maggie didn’t seem to realize he was rearranging her plan in his head. She pointed a finger behind him. “The kitchenette is where you’re standing.”

Ben looked behind him and noticed plumbing pipes protruding from the wall.

“There’ll be a small sink and a cook top stove along with a mini-fridge. And on that wall,” Maggie turned and pointed, “we’ll have a small sofa, and over there,” she motioned toward the wall that faced opposite the fireplace, “that’s where the bed will go.”

Bed. Images of Maggie, spread-eagle across a bed in the fire-light had Ben silently groaning. Maybe Aunt Sally had been right.

“And that’s the back porch.” Maggie’s voice broke through his lurid thoughts.

Ben shook his head and focused.

Maggie pushed open a sliding glass door and stepped out. “We chose these doors so you could see the trees from the bed.” Maggie’s head turned, her gaze roaming up Ben’s body, slowly, lazily, until her green eyes collided with his. Again.

Or maybe he had imagined it. His fantasies were probably running away with his sanity in tow.

Holy hell, she looked incredible, her auburn curls blowing in the small breeze, mouth parted, breasts rising and falling. He wanted her panting and breathless under him. Ben was no longer semi-aroused, he was well on his way to full-blown wood, hard as the trees in front of him.

He broke their gaze and headed back into the cabin. “It all looks good Maggie.”

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Ben searched his mind for any image other than Maggie, laid out in front of the fireplace, body bare, hair tousled from their—Shit.

He ran code in his head. Ones and zeroes, symbols and letters that looked like gibberish to most, but to him it had the effect of baseball stats and cold water to his libido. He stepped back toward the kitchenette, putting as much distance between them as he could. Given the size of the cabin and his physical desire for her, it wasn’t nearly enough space.

“Maybe we should talk about what’s really going on here, Ben. Get it out in the open.” She moved forward.

“No!” he stumbled back out of her reach. This was turning from bad to worse. Get it together, Ben. His gaze caught the fireplace. Suddenly images of Aunt Sally baring herself in front of the stone fixture replaced those of Maggie’s sexy body. He felt the blood drain from his mid-section and was finally able to drag in a shaky breath.

It was a hell of a way to snap out of the fog, but he’d take it.

How the hell had he gotten here? One minute he was thinking about budgets and line items he could strike and the next he had his crazy aunt doing a naked cha-cha through his head.

Maggie stepped back, hurt etched on her beautiful face. “I just think we should be open, be honest about our feelings.”

He couldn’t think of anything worse. Talking about how hard he got whenever she came close? Why the hell would he want to do that?

Maggie shook her head at him. “Ben, I can see you’re still out here making cuts, tallying dollar amounts you can save if you slash and burn your way through every project. You still refuse to see the dream your parents built. It’s only about numbers and figures to you.”

“What?” What was she talking about?

“I just think—” Maggie abruptly stopped.

He didn’t ask her to continue. He wasn’t about to talk to her about the cost of his parents’ projects right now any more than he’d talk to her about his wayward dick. He’d made up his mind. He’d seen enough. They might have a “vision” for the lodge, but it would have to wait. Right now, costs had to be cut, hard choices had to be made. And he didn’t need their input for that.

His mother’s and Maggie’s emotional ties to their vision of what they wanted the lodge to look like would only complicate things if he asked for their input. The more he thought about their frivolous spending, the angrier he got. And the angrier he got, the less he thought of Maggie naked. Which was a good thing.

His parents and Maggie meant well. All they’d tried to do was follow their hearts, but their ignorance of how much they could lose baffled him. It was one thing to chase your dreams but not at the expense of possibly losing everything.

Despite their pipe dreams, Ben liked Maggie. He liked her passion. He liked the way she fiercely stood up for his mom. He could see them becoming friends. The truth was, they were both trying to do the same thing: support his mom. They just had very different visions of how to do that.

Maggie followed him out onto the porch. “Listen Ben, you need to understand, your mom and I love taking care of this place. It’s not a burden. We can make it work.”

“But you don’t have to.”

Maggie’s green eyes cut to his. “What does that mean?”

He didn’t share that his idea of helping would include cutting some of the frivolous expenditures. He’d hold on to that information until he could make her see the bottom line. They could be friends. If he could make her see he wasn’t the enemy, maybe he could make her see that he was right. That he only cared about doing what was best for his mom, the lodge, and ultimately, Maggie.

“It means I’m here to help, Maggie Mae.” He used her old childhood nickname on a whim, but realized this was the best way to get what he wanted.

She snorted. “Well that’s nice of you, Benji.”

Ben groaned. He abhorred his nickname. “What do I have to do so you never say that name again?”

She grinned, that wicked glint returning to her eyes. “Come look at the wedding barn with me. I want you to see the whole vision. What your mom and I are working so hard on.”

He grumbled but she laughed, smacking him on the arm. Excitement radiated from her entire being and Ben had to admit, he loved seeing Maggie happy.

Where had that stupid thought come from? He shouldn’t care how she looked.

Maggie bolted down the stairs. “Come on, Benji.”

“Ugh, Benji?” he groaned as he stumbled down the steps. “You said if I looked at the barn, you wouldn’t call me that.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a small smile showcasing soft, rosy lips. “I lied.” she winked.

Heaven help him.