Timber Creek

But Laura Bailey wasn’t for having. She was cold and prickly and focused on only one thing: herself.



But she was also smart and funny, always surprising him, catching him off guard since they’d been kids. And now she’d grown up so fine, into this sexy woman with a tight-as-hell body that taunted him.



He scraped his hand through his hair, cooling the dampness. Where the hell had those Sierra breezes gone?



“Damn,” he muttered. It wasn’t just that sexy tank top with the pink bra straps peeping out that had him bothered. What she’d said niggled at the back of his mind. Would the Sleepy Hills project put the Big Bear Lodge under? He had no doubts that a big conglomerate like Fairview would happily watch as they drove a family-owned enterprise out of business.



But then again, Laura was probably just being Laura. Needing to be in control. The Expert. Truth of it was, they needed this—the future of his own family business was at stake. This job brought Jessup Brothers Construction onto the brink of something bigger. They could continue as they’d been, doing handyman work and the occasional bigger job around Sierra Falls, or they could grow into the construction company developers called to build things in Silver City, or Reno even.



His cell buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at the screen. It was Hunter Fox, aka Mister Fairview himself. He wasn’t the CEO, but he was close—he was the one who’d contracted Jessup Brothers Construction in the first place. Hunter was the man who signed Eddie’s paychecks, and in this economy, that was all that mattered.



Eddie wandered under the awning to take the call. Sierra days never got too hot, but it was a clear June afternoon, and hard work, the hot sun—and one hot Bailey sister—had him eager to seek out a shady breeze. “Mister Fox.”



“Eddie,” a jovial voice greeted him. Hunter Fox might have been built like a refrigerator, but he was probably greasy enough to slip through the eye of a keyhole. “I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s Hunter. Fairview might be a big company, but we’ve got small-town spirit. That’s why I hired you boys.”



Sure it was. Sure, it had nothing to do with the fact that a town as close-knit as Sierra Falls would look skeptically at a bunch of strangers coming in and bulldozing their land.



But Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to say any of that. He might’ve sometimes played up that good-old-boy vibe, but it was because it made work easier—it was what people expected of him.



People. He blew out a sigh. People underestimated him. People like Laura. What was the word she liked to call him…Neanderthal? She saw him as nothing more than a hick in a red truck, ready for Miller time. It’d gotten to the point where it was easier just to let her believe that clichéd idea of him. It was all she was willing to see, anyway.



“I appreciate that,” Eddie said with forced ease. He’d rely on the easygoing good-guy voice for the Fairview suits, too. “The Jessups welcome Fairview to Sierra Falls.”



“So, young man, when are we gonna break ground?”



Ah, the royal we. But Eddie knew how to play the game, and it was time to get his head in it. “I’m here now, taking a look around the property. She’s an old girl, this ranch house, but nothing we Jessups can’t handle. Outside is mostly cosmetic stuff—weather, wear and tear, that sort of thing. But the rest of it”—he stepped inside to get a better look—“I’m afraid we’ll need to go down to the studs. Replace the old plumbing with copper. And then there’s the electric. She’s still got the old knob-and-tube wiring that’ll—”



“That’s why I’m calling,” Hunter interrupted. “There’s been a slight change in plans.”



Eddie went on alert. “What sort of change?”



The man’s rolling laugh reached him over the cell. “Don’t get scared off, Edward.”



“Mm-hm.” It was Edwin, but Eddie never told anyone that. He was sure it was a fine name for some other guy, but he was just plain Eddie. The last person to call him Edwin had been his kindergarten teacher, and even then, he’d so hated it, the epic silent treatment he’d given the woman had made it just Eddie ever since. Only his family knew, and his brothers understood that spilling the beans brought with it pain of death. “Jessups don’t scare easy, so all due respect, just spit it out, sir.”



Hunter laughed again, only this time it had a canny edge to it. “I get it. You’ve got mettle. I like that. So I’ll shoot straight. With the town’s proximity to Sacramento and the Bay Area, we need to be thinking bigger. There are a lot of deep pockets in San Francisco. Those city folk do like their mud baths and salt scrubs.”



Eddie bristled at the man’s folksy way of talking—it was too contrived—but he played along nonetheless. “Bigger, sure. We can think bigger.” Here came the trickiest part of his job: translating client-speak. “But…bigger how?”



“Pop on another story. Add a solarium. That sort of thing.”



Solarium? He nudged a loose floorboard with his boot. Damned if Laura’s concerns didn’t jump back into his head. “I thought you wanted a traditional ranch house. Boutique spa experience—weren’t those your words? Boutiques and ranch properties tend to be single stories.”



“Single story. Did I hear you right, Edward?”



Edwin. “Edward” was a teenybopper vampire.



“Yes, sir. You wanted an authentic ranch experience.” He stepped outside to look at the façade. It was an old building, dating to the late 1800s. Hell, it was probably on some historical register somewhere. And even though it had only one floor, it wasn’t short on space. “I think we can expand, while keeping to the original spirit of the plan.” I think we can do this without crushing the Baileys in the process. “This place is sprawling, as is. Adding another floor will double the work time. Change your bottom line. We’ll need a whole new set of plans. And the engineer will need to come back out, recheck the foundation, that sort of thing.”



“I had our architect do up another set of drawings. Permits are a go.” There was a moment’s silence on the other end of the line. “My only obstacle now is you. Are you able to do the work?”



Life shot into his veins. “Of course we can do the work.” They couldn’t lose this job. Not only did they need the money, but he was sure Fairview could have some big-city builder out tomorrow, razing the building to the ground, and probably for twice the money. “I just want to make sure I understand what you want.”



“What I want, Edward, is to be the destination resort of the Sierra Nevada.”



Those grand words were echoing in Eddie’s mind as he hopped into his truck. His family business needed to prosper. He could be responsible and do the work without crushing the rest of Sierra Falls in the process. He and his brother were the best men for the job—in fact, it was a boon that they had the work and not some uncaring out-of-town operation.



A new hotel wouldn’t put Bear out of business—his lodge was only so big, anyway, able to take in only so many visitors. Besides, a big-time resort and spa might attract even more tourists to the lodge and tavern. Not that he’d ever say any of that to Laura. Not that he’d even try.



He was being a smart businessman. He wasn’t being a jerk.



So why’d he feel like one?



Eddie revved the engine and took off to his favorite trailhead. Nothing like a hilly run to clear the mind of everything—and everyone.



Three



“I need to look at the registry,” Laura said before the Town Hall door had even clicked shut. She’d been sitting in her car, waiting. The place wasn’t exactly run like a Swiss watch and was open only according to a bewildering schedule of bimonthly evening meetings, alternate Tuesday mornings, first and third Monday and Wednesday afternoons, and whichever Friday hours the community volunteers could make.



She eyed those two volunteers now: Ruby and Pearl Kidd, the elderly doyennes of Sierra Falls. They’d been in the process of settling in for the day when she’d burst in. They gaped at her, looking alarmingly startled by her sudden appearance.



What was wrong with her? The Kidd sisters were in their eighties. Laura wanted information, not heart attacks.



She took a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn’t in the city anymore, and sudden was not the way to get things done around Sierra Falls. “I mean, hi,” she said, smiling and trying not to look quite so much like a madwoman. “How are things with you two?”



“Not as exciting as it seems to be for you, I fear.” Ruby took Pearl’s purse to stash with the rest of their things beneath the reception desk.



Pearl’s eyes were a little more judgmental when she said, “I know Edith taught you better manners than that, dear.” They were both spinsters who’d been raised by a fire-and-brimstone father and didn’t hold back when it came to sharp-tongued censure.



“You’re right,” she replied with a sigh. “I apologize. It’s just…I’m a little…upset.” She suddenly felt choked up in front of these two women she’d grown up with, and she gritted her teeth. She was an adult now, taking charge. Take-charge women didn’t break down.



But Ruby sensed it and told her gently, “Sit for a while.”



Laura was pressed for time but decided that taking a minute would be a necessary means to an end. Pearl began to teeter to standing, but she beat the woman to it, hopping up and grabbing an old ladder-back chair from the corner.



Pearl smiled and patted her hand. “Tell us what’s on your mind.”



She dove right in. “Have you heard what the Jessups are doing to the old ranch?”



“Which ranch?” Pearl directed the question at her sister instead of to Laura.



“She’ll mean that old place on Timber Creek, I imagine.” Ruby’s voice wavered with age.



Pearl’s eyes widened with recognition. “The old Wexler homestead?”