Chapter 13

“Oh, boy. I wish that didn’t scare me.”

Jasper pointed to her lap. “I have kittens.”

“Yes, Captain Obvious. Yes, you do.”

“And you have a nursing home.”

She sat back, turning her head away from him. “Oh, no, you don’t. No, no, no. We are not bringing your kittens into my temporary nursing home.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not allowed? There are rules?”

“And you don’t break rules?”

She was silent for a long moment, and he saw a hundred thoughts cross her face as she frowned.

“I don’t. No.” When she finally spoke, her words were clipped, like he’d hit a frayed, exposed nerve.

Oops.

Time for a topic change.

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll have these guys for another six weeks or so. And I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” She paused, petting the kittens in her lap. “Question for you—what’s Bette like?”

“Total rule-breaker.”

“I figured.”

“How did you come to that conclusion already?”

She leveled him with a look. “Have you seen the woman’s office? She hasn’t filed anything but legally required paperwork in who knows how long. I can’t tell if she purposely avoids it, or if she hasn’t done it in so long, she’s forgotten she’s supposed to.”

“I imagine if she’s not filing it, she doesn’t think it’s important enough to waste her time on.”

“Great. That’s encouraging.”

“She can’t be the only one who doesn’t get paperwork done.”

“No.” Emma shook her head. “But she’s a little bit famous in the home office for how little she does get done.”

“Aha. So is part of your assignment here about this? About Bette’s performance?”

He tried to keep the suspicion and touch of anger out of his voice, but come on. The woman worked eighty-hour weeks, knew every resident’s favorite cookie, flower, and grandchild, and had a staff that would bend over backward for her. She might suck at paperwork, but she was doing the right things right.

“No. It’s not at all about that. I promise.”

He tipped his head, trying to read her, and she raised her eyebrows in response.

“I’m here only because she’s out for surgery and recovery. And they chose me because—well, because I had the right qualifications for the job.” She paused. Then she put up one finger at a time as she made a list. “Single, childless, and able to pick up and be on a plane in three days flat.”

He smiled. “I imagine a little bit more than that played into the decision.”

“You might be surprised.” She cringed. “But I definitely shouldn’t be saying that to the son of one of my residents, should I?”

“Probably not.”

She was quiet for a long moment, cuddling the kittens. Then she looked around the room like she was seeing it for the first time.

“So is this your actual home? Right here?”

“Yes and no. I just recently redid this room. It used to be a big old kitchen, back when this was an actual restaurant. But the appliances were shot, and I have no plans to cook anything more than coffee here, so I cleared it all out and turned it into—well, this. But I actually live upstairs. There’s a three-bedroom apartment on the second floor.”

He purposely used the word apartment to downplay his home above the café. The reality was that it was two thousand square feet of high ceilings, polished hardwood floors, and huge windows with a view of the northern Rockies that had sold him on the place long before he’d fallen in love with the idea of running his own coffee shop.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

“It’s vital. Especially since I start brewing at five o’clock in the morning. My first customer shows up at five-thirty on the dot, every single morning. If her coffee isn’t ready, heads will roll, and not just mine.”

Emma laughed. “Sounds like she has you well trained.”

“Nope. She’s just a really nice woman, and she needs her coffee in order to stay a nice woman—her words, not mine—so I do what I can. I get a bunch of guys in between her and seven o’clock, and then tourists for the next couple of hours. Then I come up to have breakfast with Dad.”

“After you feed the munchkins here?”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes. “Lately, yes. After that.”

“Better schedule than your courtroom days?”

“Not even in the same universe.”

“What made you stop practicing law?”

She put the question out there, innocently, like they were just having your average getting-to-know-you conversation, but it was a question that had razor blades sticking out all over the damn place, and he never quite knew how to walk the line between the truth and—well, the other truth.

“I needed a change,” he said. He’d go with the benign answer.

“What kind of law did you practice?”

“Corporate finance.”

“No way.” She studied him for a second, then looked back at the kittens in her lap. “Did you like it?”

He put down his kitten and gathered the bottles, stalling. “I did at first, yeah. It was exciting. I was in L.A. courtrooms two weeks a month, making headlines and climbing that ladder, and it was all great. I loved the energy of it, the high of winning, the thrill of watching my name jump higher on the firm’s list.”

“So what happened?”

“I—well—I got caught up on the hamster wheel. Lost sight of what was important. So…I got off.”

“Simple as that?”

He paused. “No. Nothing is as simple as that.”

“I figured.” She looked back down, focusing on the kittens. “So what brought you here to Montana?”

Grief. Loss. Abject heartbreak.

“A variety of things.”

“And has it worked out?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, considering her question. Then he pictured the man he’d been when he’d rolled into town five years ago, a cracked shell of a pathetic mess.

“It’s a process,” he finally said. “But so far, so good. This place has a way of creeping into your bones and making you stay. I didn’t necessarily plan to, back when I arrived.”

“Well, it is pretty beautiful out here. I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah. It definitely is. But it’s a lot more than the physical beauty that draws people here and makes them want to stay.”

“Are you going to say something saccharine-ish about the people now? How they surround you with their goodness and light and make you never want to leave?”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

“Because cults are like that. I mean, I’m just saying.”

The way she raised her eyebrows like an ancient librarian, combined with her words, made him laugh out loud.

“Not a cult in sight. Promise.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “But those who’ve been drawn in don’t realize they have been until it’s too late.”

“Well, then I guess it’s already too late to save me from myself. You should probably flee before the power of the mountains and the water get to you, too.”

“Very funny.”

“You’ll see, Emma. Even a jaded, thinks-she-knows-everything-about-life Florida girl can find a new lease on life up here.”

“I’m not a jaded—” Her eyes widened, but then she smiled. “Okay, I’ll give you jaded. But I definitely don’t give you the other half.”

“I’ll take that part back, then.”

He watched her for a second, an idea taking shape in his head. It wasn’t a new one, really—but it was growing legs fast.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Paperwork.”

“That’s criminal. Have you heard the weather report?”

“I refuse to look.”

He smiled. “I’ll make you a deal. Do your paperwork in the morning, and then let me take you out to Whisper Creek for the afternoon.”

“Ah. Whisper Creek again.”

“Source of the calendars. Just saying.” He lifted one eyebrow. “You could see the cowboys up close and personal.”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “Not sure I’ve ever been much of a cowboy person.”

“Have you ever met a real one?”

“Nope.”

He laughed. “Then you speak from a place of no experience.”

“And you’re offering me experience?”

“Absolutely. I’ll book us a couple of horses for the afternoon, and by the time we get back, you’ll be wanting one of your own.”

He watched emotions cross her face, but he couldn’t read them as she sighed quietly and put the kittens back in the basket, one by one.

“I wish I could. I do. But I have reams of work to do up at Shady Acres, and it won’t get done if I’m out on a horse.”

“Will the place fall down if you’re out on a horse?”

“Of course not. But it’s not that easy. I’m trying really hard to make a good impression on the powers-that-be, and taking off for an afternoon when I should be working isn’t really the best way to do that.”

“Are you expected to work all weekend? Because I’m pretty sure every morning this week, I’ve seen your crappy—sorry—rental car in the lot when I get there, and I’m also pretty sure it’s just about the last one to leave at night.”

“It’s just—temporary.” Her mouth turned downward at the edges as she said the word. “I don’t necessarily work these kinds of hours at home.”

“You don’t?”

“Oh, put your eyebrows back down. Did you not work these kinds of hours when you were climbing the ladder at your law firm?”

He was silent, feeling the knives slice into his ribs as he remembered those years. “Yes. I worked those kinds of hours. But I paid a price.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “And that higher rung wasn’t worth that price. Not in the least.”

Her eyes went serious as she scanned his face, and somehow he knew, just knew, she was seeing more than he wanted to reveal.

“Okay,” she finally said. Then she stood up, brushing tiny strands of kitten hair from her pants. “I’ll go check out this Whisper Creek paradise.”

“You will?”

“Well, it’s better than getting another lecture about priorities and life passing me by and whatever else you were going to say next.”

“None of those things.”

“Bull-hockey.”

He laughed. “You Southern girls have quite the mouth on you.”

“Oh, you should hear the curses when I stub my toe.”

She picked up the sweater she’d draped over the arm of his couch, and weirdly, he felt an urge to reach out and make her stay.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, reaching for the sweater and holding it for her so she could put it on.

The move was automatic on his part, lifting the sweater so she could reach each arm, then holding her shoulders softly to turn her around. She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes, and he swallowed hard, feeling an absolutely insane urge to lean down and kiss her.

What. The. Hell?

She took an unsteady breath. “Um, thank you for letting me see the kittens.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He let his hands slide down her arms, feeling like an idiot as he stepped back. “Anytime. And if you ever do want to see how that whole pets-and-elders thing might work out, I’d help you go to bat with the powers-that-be. Or—you know—sneak the little beasts in and out. Either way.”

She smiled. “Thank you. Just don’t do it without me knowing, okay?”

“I would never.”

“This is not what I hear.”

He laughed. “You have flawed sources. I have never broken a rule that didn’t deserve to be broken. I stand by that.”

“It’s the deserve to be broken part that scares me. Not sure we’d have the same definition.” She slid her purse onto her shoulder and headed back into the café.

He followed her to the front door, then opened it for her. “Just think about it. You did the research. You even proposed it. You know it’s a good idea.”

“It is. But it’s also an idea that never made it past my boss’s desk.”

“Not sure I like this boss of yours.”

She smiled, looking over her shoulder. “That makes two of us, some days.”

They reached her car, and he opened the driver’s door for her. “Your chariot, m’lady.”

“Some chariot.” She laughed. “If this thing doesn’t fall apart on the way up the mountain one of these days, I’ll be surprised.”

“Hill.”

“You know what? You natives and recent-ish transplants can call it a hill. It is a freaking mountain, okay? This car barely makes it up to the nursing home without coughing and wheezing.”

“You need a different car if you’re really going to be out here for three months, you know.” He leaned over to check the tire closest to him. “These tires aren’t going to get you out of downtown, let alone up the hi—mountain.”

“Pretty sure the rental agency agrees, or at least they appear to every time I’ve called. But they sent ninety percent of their fleet to some other spot, and they haven’t gotten them back yet.”

Jasper felt his eyebrows do their bullshit move. “You think Smitty’s giving you the run-around?”

“Definitely. His admin is, at least. But I don’t have a lot of options.”

He had a feeling Smitty might come up with some options if he was dealing with someone other than a tiny, polite little Southern girl, but he also had a feeling Emma wouldn’t take kindly to him suggesting that.

He did have another idea, though.

“You know, I’ve got a car sitting in the garage out back that I never get a chance to drive.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, even though restoring that car had helped him through some of the worst nights of his life, five years ago. “If you get desperate, you’re welcome to use it while you’re here.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Sure. I drive that behemoth most of the time.” He pointed at his black truck, parked against the curb. “In all honesty, the one out back’s kind of a girlie car.”

She laughed. “How did you end up with a girlie car?”

“It was a gift.”

“From someone who knows you well? Or really, really doesn’t?”

Jasper sobered. “From somebody who knew what I needed at the time.”

“Huh.” She studied his face again, but again, didn’t pursue her line of questioning. Funny how much he really, really liked that quality in her.

“So, anyway. It’s here if you need one. She’d be happy to get out of the garage.”

“Well, thank you. I might just take you up on it if this thing conks out.”

“If snow flies, I might be forced to executive-decide this thing gets kicked to the curb.”

“Great.” She laughed as she slid into the driver’s seat, rolling down the window as she closed the door. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Have a good night, Emma.”

“You, too.” She started to back up, then braked. “Should I tell you now that I haven’t been on a horse in ten years? Or would that be better to save till tomorrow?”

He laughed. “Now’s good. I’ll make sure Cole picks you a perfect one. No worries.”

“Okay.” She nodded slowly, but he could swear she was biting her lip. “And just for future reference, when someone says no worries to me, it gives me all the worries.”

“It’ll be fine. Great, in fact. You’ll be out on the trail, soaking up sunshine and fresh air before you have a chance to be nervous about the horses.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Better than paperwork, right?”

“Paperwork doesn’t bite. Or buck.”

He laughed. “See you tomorrow, Emma. You’ll see. The ladies call it Whisper Creek magic. You drive onto the property, and weights automatically lift from your shoulders.”

“Are the cowboys lifting them? Because if so, I could be convinced.”

“If that’ll get you out there, then yeah. Absolutely.” He rolled his eyes. “We’ll find you Mr. August or September, if you want.”

“I’m actually a bigger fan of Mr. Mar—never mind.” She shook her head, cheeks going pink. “I’ve barely looked at that damn calendar, in case you’re thinking otherwise.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Stop smiling.”

“Not smiling.”

“I’m going now.”

“Okay. Goodbye.”

She backed out of her space and gave a little wave as she headed down the street. He stood there for a long minute after she’d gone, hands on his hips, smiling to himself.

As she came back up the street, going the right way this time, he waved, and she shook her head, putting up a hand so he couldn’t see her eyes.

He didn’t want to find it adorable that the woman couldn’t find her way out of a town square. He didn’t want to wonder why he’d wanted so badly to lean closer to her to catch a whiff of her shampoo.

He didn’t want her.

He didn’t.