A Town Called Valentine

chapter Two



Nate Thalberg felt perfectly steady on his feet, though still hot under the collar, as he turned off the light in the back room and reentered the bar. Three pairs of eyes fixed on him. Tony De Luca’s were the first to drop as he smiled and continued to dry a tall glass before hanging it on the rack above the bar. The other two men, twin brothers Ned and Ted Ferguson, plumbers for Sweet Construction, were a good ten years older than him and long past their pickin’-up-women-in-bars prime. But they still snickered.

Nate ignored them and sat down at the bar. “Another Dale’s.”

“You might as well head to Aspen if you’re going to drink that stuff,” Tony said, his usual response. He set the bottle before Nate without another word.

Nate was grateful. He was still aroused and embarrassed and feeling like a fool, all at the same time. He hadn’t behaved like that since college, and that was almost ten years ago. Of course, he hadn’t left Valentine Valley much since then, and he was careful about picking up a local woman in a bar. He knew them all, and all their relatives. A little fun wasn’t worth what would happen the next day, the assumptions of what he owed them, the way they’d look at him as if he were their newly acquired property. Nope, when he went out with a woman, and that happened regularly enough, she knew exactly where she stood with him. And it wasn’t on the road to any sort of relationship.

But he’d come into Tony’s after a long day riding in the White River National Forest checking the herd. Once it would have been enjoyable to hang with his brother and talk about nothing and everything. But lately, he and Josh had clashed over minor things, and every physical exertion ended up being a contest of wills. It made for a long, frustrating day.

Tonight Nate had needed some peace. He knew Tony could be quiet, at least when he didn’t have a hockey stick in his hand. So he’d come to the tavern to enjoy the rest of the baseball game.

Until she’d shown up. Emily. Every other man at Tony’s had stared at her, however briefly, and he hadn’t wanted to be one of those. But she’d had this pink raincoat on, and when she’d taken it off at the door, her black sweater had ridden up an inch at her waist, and her long strawberry blond hair curled damply near her neck. She was short and curvy in all the right places, and when she’d looked around at the nearly empty bar with wide but tired blue eyes, something in him had paid a bit too much attention.

Remembering how he’d stared at her, unable to stop, he took another swig of beer in disgust. He was weak.

“That should be your last,” Tony said, leaning back against the shelf near the cash register. “You have to drive.”

Before Nate could take offense, Tony glanced with a frown at the door. “Maybe I should have stopped her, too.”

“Emily,” Nate said without thinking.

Tony grinned. “At least you got her name. Or did you get more?”

Nate winced and sighed. “Nope. Shouldn’t have been trying for more.”

“She seemed willing to me.”

“And tipsy. I shouldn’t have—”

The door jangled, and Nate automatically turned to look. Emily stepped back inside, rain dripping down her coat, her fingers gripping her purse.

Without looking at Nate, she said coolly to Tony, “My car won’t start, and I’m not certain who to call for a tow. Could you please give me a name?”

Tony walked to the end of the bar. “Sorry, but Ernie won’t come at night if it’s not an emergency.”

“Oh.”

Nate thought she looked blank for a moment, as if it never occurred to her that there were parts of the country where you couldn’t have what you asked for twenty-four hours a day.

She took a deep breath, still not glancing at Nate. “Then if you could call me a taxi, I’d appreciate it.”

“It’s too late,” Nate said quietly.

“Pardon me?” She met his eyes at last.

He felt a jolt of need. Damn, but she still affected him even though he regretted their little game and his lack of control. And then she bit her plump lower lip, making everything worse.

“Only one taxi driver in Valentine Valley,” Tony explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Let me guess,” Emily said with a touch of bitterness. “He only comes at night if it’s an emergency.”

“She,” Nate said reluctantly.

Her posture seemed to slump as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He’d smelled that hair, tasted the skin on her neck. He stirred on the barstool, wishing he could adjust himself. And it had been his stupid idea to head back to the pool room.

“Since you’re not from around here,” Tony said, “there’s a motel just down the block.”

Nate could see her jaw clench from across the room.

“I own a building in town,” she finally said. “I need to get there.”

Tony and Nate shared a surprised glance. Both of them knew just about everybody—and every building—in town. Who was this Emily?

“I can drop you off,” Nate offered. It was the least he could do.

She studied him, wariness in her narrowed eyes. “If you can tell me how to get—”

“You can’t walk there in this,” Tony interrupted. “You can trust Nate to take you, regardless of what happened in the back room.”

Her eyes shut as she grimaced. Ned and Ted Ferguson gave another matching set of snickers.

Nate frowned. He could see Emily’s blush like a beacon. He glared at the brothers, and they both hunched their shoulders and turned back to the game.

“But first,” Tony continued. “I’ve just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Nate, how ’bout something to eat?”

He was just about to protest that he was not drunk, but then he remembered kissing a woman he didn’t know a thing about. “Sounds good.”

Emily perched on a chair closest to the door. “Thank you. I’ll wait.”

Tony served him some fajitas with the coffee, and although Nate offered her some, she didn’t leave the safety of her chair, making him feel even more like a monster. After a half hour, he quietly said, “Guess it’s time to leave, Tony.”

Tony smiled and glanced at Emily. “I might have to call you tomorrow.”

“There’ll be nothing to report.” He stood up and slid on his jacket.

Emily waited by the door, wincing as she peered out at the rain.

He opened it and gestured. “After you.”

He ran toward the pickup as rain dripped off the edges of his hat. He followed her to open the door, but she veered toward her own car first and tried to lug a suitcase out of the trunk. He grabbed it out of her hand, opened the truck door, and slid it onto the rear bench. She was short enough that she had trouble getting up inside, and he almost boosted her up by the ass but figured she wouldn’t appreciate it. He ran to his side and hopped in, and the slam of both doors echoed in the rain-drumming silence. He started the pickup and quickly rolled up the partially opened window, swearing again at the rain that streaked the inside of his door.

At the soft “woof” from the backseat, Emily gave a little cry. Scout stuck his black-and-white nose over the seat and sniffed at her. Nate held back a smile as she sagged against the door with a shudder.

“Afraid of dogs?” he asked.

“No, but he startled me.” She eyed Scout. “Does he like strangers?”

“Yep.”

She put out her hand, palm up, and within a second, Scout turned traitor and happily licked her before settling down again next to her suitcase on the bench seat.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Scout.”

With a sigh, Emily buckled herself in, then sat facing forward, hands in her lap. When Nate didn’t put the truck in gear, she glanced at him with a frown. He could sense the tension as if it were a force field around her.

“So where are you going?” he asked.

“Sorry. Two Oh Four Main Street.”

Damn, he knew that building. His luck had definitely run out tonight.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t appear grateful for the ride,” she began, speaking quickly. “It’s just that—”

“You don’t know me. I get that.”

She didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything more. He didn’t blame her. And she was about to find out some bad news.

Two Oh Four Main Street was less than six blocks away, so the drive didn’t take long. In the rain-soaked darkness, he could see nothing but the blurry image of lights along the street, and the flat-fronted buildings nestled side by side along each block of Main Street. There wasn’t even a traffic light to slow them down. He pulled into the alley behind the two hundred block. Of the four commercial buildings, three had lights shining above the door to help—but naturally, hers was out. He knew this building, knew it had recently been a small restaurant that had closed down just a few months before.

“Is this it?” she asked, obviously trying not to sound disappointed.

“You really haven’t been here since you were a kid?”

She shook her head. “This used to be my grandmother’s store. I was eight when she died. My mother never brought me back after that.”

“Did you have the electricity turned on?”

She sighed. “No. I had planned to arrive during the day.”

“There’s a motel back—”

“No, I need to go in.” She unbuckled herself.

With a sigh, Nate brought a flashlight from beneath the seat. She gave him a quick, grateful smile, then jumped down into the rain. Nate glanced over his shoulder at Scout, who panted and watched her curiously.

“I know what you mean, buddy,” Nate said. “I’ll be back.”

When he joined her, she was already shivering, trying to enter a code in a numeric box next to the door. The flashlight helped, and soon she’d removed the keys from the box and was able to unlock the door. He followed her into a little hallway with two doors. He assumed one led upstairs to an apartment, like most of the buildings on Main Street. She used another key on the door directly in front of her and stepped inside. The place smelled musty and unused, but before he could even shine the flashlight around, he heard the squish of his foot stepping in water. Uh-oh.

Emily felt the last hope she’d cherished dissolve inside her. As Nate slowly moved the flashlight around the room, she saw that they were in the kitchen of the restaurant. The stainless steel gleamed dully from counters and appliances, and she winced as she saw a splash of paint spattered down the door to the walk-in refrigerator. Holes gaped in the walls, and the sink, with a slow stream of water coming from the tap, had overflowed, leaving the floor wet, although a drain at her feet took the worst of it. Garbage was strewn everywhere, and shelves had toppled.

“Let me check in front,” Nate said. “Wait here.”

Offended by his peremptory attitude, she reached to take the flashlight, but he didn’t see her as he walked away. She gritted her teeth, put her hands on her hips, and waited in the dark until he returned a minute later.

“No sign of a break-in. The restaurant owners were your tenants?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Guess they were mad at you.”

“I had to raise the rent after my mother died.” She didn’t owe him any explanations, especially not since he seemed angry with her over their mistake earlier in the evening.

“They weren’t from here,” he said.

Maybe he was thinking Outsiders, and that she was one, too.

“What did you plan to do here?” he continued. “Open another business?”

“God, no. I need to sell it, but I certainly won’t get a good offer like this. I won’t be leaving as quickly as I’d hoped.”

He remained silent, probably disappointed.

“You can go, Mr.—Nate.”

“Thalberg. Nate Thalberg.”

“Emily Murphy,” she said, knowing their formal introduction was a bit too late.

He hesitated, then said, “I can’t leave you like this.”

At last she turned to him. His face was in shadows, since the flashlight beam was aimed away from him, but she could see the gleam of his eyes.

“Of course you can leave.” She spoke more sharply than she’d intended.

“You’re going to stay here?” he demanded.

“It’s mine.” The last thing I own, she thought. But it was hers. “There’s an apartment upstairs.”

“And you think it will look any better?”

“Guess I’ll go see. Can I use the flashlight?”

He handed it over, then crossed his arms over his chest, obviously planning to wait.

“If I could borrow this until morning . . .” she began.

“The apartment won’t look better, Emily, but go ahead and check. I’ll wait here.”

She went back to the hallway off the alley, used another key while holding the flashlight under her arm, and went upstairs. The smell alone already convinced her, and the debris was just as bad, if not worse. Piles of furniture and boxes were toppled around her, and she couldn’t even get a sense of the apartment. It felt like a horror-movie set, where she didn’t know what she’d find when the lights were eventually turned on. What am I supposed to do now?

Without answers, she trudged back down and found Nate in the hall, waiting for her. She couldn’t see his face, with that cowboy hat hiding everything.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly.

She frowned and opened her mouth to protest.

He took the flashlight back. “I shut off the water. There’s nothing else for you here tonight. You can come back tomorrow and see the rest of the damage.”

She felt exposed, vulnerable, and suddenly so weary. He’d seen the mess in the restaurant, just as if he’d seen the mess in her life. She couldn’t waste the last of her money when she was going to need every dime to fix this place.

“Listen, cowboy,” she said firmly, “I know this looks bad, but it isn’t up to you to make my decisions for me.”

“Is that right?” He tipped up his hat to look her in the eyes.

She suddenly noticed that his drawl had disappeared, and he spoke in crisp, cool tones.

“Well, it’s a shame you didn’t tell me what you were doing here from the beginning because I could have saved us all this hassle. I do have a say in your decisions”—he briefly looked past her—“or at least my father does, because you don’t own this property outright. My dad lent your mother money, and he has a lien on the place. She’d been paying him back over time.”

Emily gaped at him, still standing a step up so he couldn’t crowd her in the tiny hallway. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was. I’ll tell my father about your arrival and word of your mother’s death.”

“She died last year!”

“We’ve been receiving regular payment through a lawyer. If you don’t believe me, I’ll bring the papers to show you.” He sighed. “He would never stand in the way of you selling the building—to an appropriate business, of course.”

She felt her face heat. “Excuse me?”

“With how land is selling in Valentine Valley,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “you’ll have no problem getting a decent price, and you’ll be able to keep most of it.”

Swallowing, she knew it was best to keep her temper until she saw those papers. She’d thought she was on her own, independent at last, and now to find out someone else controlled her, after everything that had happened in her marriage . . . To her mortification, she felt her eyes sting. Thank goodness for the darkness.

Nate was still watching her. She stiffened and met his gaze with what she hoped was a look of cool defiance and a tilt of her chin.

“I’m glad you’re being calm and reasonable about this,” he said. “That means you’ll also understand that you can’t stay here tonight. It may be spring, but the nights are cold in the mountains. I have a place you can stay.” When she drew in a furious breath, he held up both hands. “Not with me. My grandmother has a boardinghouse for her and all her friends, and I do occasional work for her. There’s an empty room right now, and you can stay there until you figure things out.”

For a crazy moment, Emily wanted to refuse, to kick him out, to hunker down in the only place that was hers. But common sense intervened at last, and she let out a frustrated breath. “I guess I don’t have a choice. I’m sorry you’re forced to help me once again.”

He didn’t answer, just stood looking at her. She was suddenly very conscious of the quiet, of the lateness of the hour, of how very alone they were. Without thinking about where she was, she took an instinctive step back—and hit her heel on the next step and started to fall backward.

He caught both her arms and briefly steadied her. Even that little touch brought back those hot moments when he’d stood between her thighs and kissed her.

“Let’s go,” he said gruffly, and walked out of the building into the rain.

Emily took a few minutes to lock both interior doors, then the outside one, before running back to the pickup. She received a sniff to the back of the neck from Scout, but she’d been prepared this time.

Without a word, Nate drove slowly down the alley and out onto a street. Within a few minutes, they left behind the twinkling lights of Valentine Valley, and she got the impression of immense darkness rising on one side of the pickup. They were driving closer to the Elk Mountains, if she remembered her map correctly, and they must blot out the stars. After crossing a bridge, they turned and followed the creek for several hundred yards before pulling up in front of a huge old three-story Victorian home. Lights illuminated the wraparound porch, and she could see decorative gingerbread trim. A huge, cheerfully lettered sign read, WIDOWS’ BOARDINGHOUSE.

Emily glanced at Nate, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t name it,” he said impassively. “They think it’s funny.”

Except for the porch lights, there was no illumination in the house. With a glance at the dashboard clock, she realized it was past one in the morning.

“Nate . . .” she began.

“Most of them wear hearing aids, and your room is on the first floor in the back.”

“But—”

He got out of the pickup, and this time Scout followed him to do his business at the base of the sign before bounding up on the front porch to watch them alertly. Emily at last got a good look at the dog, all black-and-white irregular patterns in his furry coat, a cute pointed nose that almost looked delicate, and eyes that watched Nate with adoration and readiness.

Like every woman he met, she thought with sarcasm. Herself included.

“Stay, Scout,” Nate said, pulling her suitcase out of the pickup and closing the door.

“I can carry my own—”

He strode past her. With a sigh, she followed him onto the porch and all the way around to the rear of the house. After letting himself in with a key, he led her through a neat kitchen, lit only with a dim light above the sink. She thought she could smell the lingering scent of pumpkin pie, and it gave her a stab of homesickness for the world she’d left behind. She didn’t have time to examine the kitchen, her favorite room in any house, but had to follow him through a door and down a small hall to another door. He opened it and turned the light on, leading the way into a small sitting room.

He pointed to a key ring on a table next to the door. “A set of keys for this room and the outside doors. You don’t have a private kitchen—this is more of an ‘assisted living facility,’ or so I’ve heard people call it. The widows share the kitchen. A woman comes in to do their laundry and the general cleaning. There’s a bedroom through that door, and a bathroom beyond. The linen closet will have sheets and towels.”

He set down the suitcase and turned to leave.

“Nate!” She caught his arm, and he stopped, looking down at her. Her mouth seemed to dry up every time those green eyes captured her, and such weakness made her furious. She’d conquer it if it were the last thing she did. “Thank you, but your grandmother—”

“I’ll leave her a note. She’ll be tickled pink.”

She almost smiled. “ ‘Tickled pink’?”

“Her words, not mine. We’re only about a mile from Main Street, so you’ll be able to come and go until your car is fixed.”

When he turned away, she called to him once again. “Nate, please!”

He stopped, but only glanced over his shoulder.

“You don’t know me,” she said tensely. “Why are you doing this?”

“For the sex, of course.”

Her mouth fell open.

He sighed and shook his head, looking amused for the first time in several hours. “You’re gullible. Hard to believe you’re the one from the big city.”

“Be serious,” she said harshly.

His smile faded. “If my sister found herself in this predicament, I’d want someone to help her. Now go to sleep. You look exhausted.”

And, like a stupid teenager, she put a hand to her hair in distress, but he was already gone.

After preparing for bed, she lay a long time staring into the darkness. She didn’t want to remember the evening, but every time her eyes drifted closed, she saw the intensity in Nate’s face, the hungry way he’d looked at her, like she was the only one who would satisfy him. She could still remember his hand cupping her breast and the pleasurable ache he’d roused in her.

Even though she was ashamed by her drunken behavior, part of her was relieved. At least her ability to feel passion hadn’t died with her marriage.