Currant Creek Valley

chapter ELEVEN



FOR THE FIRST TIME she could remember, her snug little house didn’t surround her with a calming peace when she arrived home Thursday night.

Usually any tension of her day started to seep away just from pulling into the driveway and seeing the warm welcome of those burnished logs.

If she had known how much she would love owning her own place, she would have purchased one years ago. Somehow it had always seemed so much trouble, with the yard work and home repairs and property taxes. She had managed to convince herself she enjoyed the freedom and flexibility of apartment living and didn’t need anything else.

Since buying this house, she had come to appreciate so many little things. The smell of fresh-mowed grass, the thwack against the door of the newspaper she rarely had time to read but still faithfully subscribed to, the satisfaction she found in fixing something inside the house herself instead of calling someone else to do it for her.

This time, as she turned off her engine and opened the door, that sense of welcoming peace remained hauntingly out of reach. The logs still glowed honey-gold in the porch light, and the night air smelled of the sweet lilac hedge just beginning to bloom and the tart pines rising into the night, but her mind was too tangled up to properly appreciate it.

In less than twenty-four hours, Brazen would open its doors for business. She was alternately consumed with excitement that this moment had finally arrived—everything she had dreamed of for so long within reach—and paralyzed by fear that she would fall on her face in front of her family and friends and everyone she held most dear.

Every single muscle in her body ached with exhaustion and she was physically as tired as she could ever remember. She had been working every waking moment all week long to make sure every detail was perfect. As tired as she was, she wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to settle down enough to sleep.

When she opened the door to her house, Leonidas raced to greet her and ran around her as if she had been gone for months. Guilt pinched at her. Poor neglected stray.

She hadn’t left him here alone all day. That morning, he had set out with her and spent part of the day in the little yard beside the restaurant. When she returned home at dinnertime to pick up some paperwork, she had brought him back to the house and left him here, but that had been five hours earlier and the poor thing had been alone ever since.

“This is why I can’t have a dog,” she informed him as she dropped her armload—bags, keys, phone—onto a console table in her entryway so she could love him up. “It’s a time thing. I’m sure you understand. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Leo cocked his head to one side and gazed at her out of those wise hazel eyes.

She sighed, still feeling guilty at neglecting a creature who depended on her. What was she going to do with him? She had decided by default to put off making a decision until after the restaurant opened but with another turn of the earth, that day would be here. She was going to have to give him away. One of her new servers had mentioned his kids wanted a dog. Or maybe she could find someone old and alone who could dote on him.

She wasn’t going to figure this out tonight. Right now she needed something to work these kinks out of her body. The sweetly scented spring air called to her. Combine that with a dog who needed attention and exercise and she knew instantly what she should do.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said. “What do you say, hmm? Want to burn off some of that energy?”

Leo gave one of his low, happy barks and padded to the front door to wait for her. Smart thing.

“We won’t go far, only a little way up the Currant Creek trail, how does that sound? It’s eleven o’clock and I really do need to try to sleep if I can. People are counting on me to be awesome tomorrow.”

Leo tried to nudge open the door she had left ajar. She closed it firmly with a laugh. “Hold on. Give me a second. It’s not going to help my stress level if you take off without me tonight, trust me on that.”

She quickly grabbed a warm jacket out of the closet and her flashlight, as well as the can of bear spray she had taken to carrying since a few black bears had been seen recently on trails around town.

A few moments later, she hooked the leash on Leo and the two of them walked toward the bridge that would take her over Currant Creek to the trail that ran on the opposite side from the houses.

The night was beautiful, warmer than usual for May. If the weather held, the Brazen outdoor seating that had just arrived would be the perfect place to spend a pleasant May evening, especially with that lovely view down Main Street. She did have kerosene warmers ready but she would really prefer not to use them if she didn’t have to.

As they made their way up the trail accompanied by the burbling creek, just a silver ribbon in the moonlight, the tension in her shoulders began to ease, along with the steady throb of a headache.

Leo loved the excursion, sniffing at every rock and clump of growth.

No other creatures disturbed their walk except an owl hooting in the trees, and some kind of water inhabitant—a muskrat or beaver, maybe?—that splashed upstream.

They didn’t go far, only about a mile to the fence that marked the edge of the Forest Service land. Sometimes a walk amid the steady mountain beauty that surrounded her soothed her even more than yoga. By the time she turned around and headed back toward her house, her muscles were loose and relaxed.

She was so relaxed, she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings. If she had been, she might have noticed she wasn’t the only one awake in her neighborhood.

“You’re out late.”

The low words came completely out of nowhere and she shrieked and jumped about a half foot in the air.

What was the point in having a big dog if he didn’t warn her of that kind of stuff? She jerked her head around in the direction of the voice and saw a dark shape on Sam’s front porch.

“Not cool! You scared the life out of me!”

He gave a rueful-sounding laugh. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot you couldn’t see me up here in the dark.”

The smart thing would be to just say good-night and keep on walking but she couldn’t seem to make herself do that. She was only being neighborly, she told herself. It seemed rude to just walk on by and she certainly couldn’t stand out here on the sidewalk and yell back and forth with him, not at this late hour. She would wake up Mr. Phillips, especially, on Sam’s other side, who liked to sleep with his bedroom window cracked even in the coldest weather.

She moved up his walk, assuring herself she would only stay a moment.

“Leo has been cooped up all day,” she explained. “We both needed to stretch our legs a little before bed.”

“Next time, grab me. I’ll go with you.”

As if she would have found that at all restful. “I was fine.”

“Maybe so, but it’s pretty foolish to go walking by yourself after dark. Anything could have happened to you. One slip and you could have fallen into the creek. And who knows what scary wild animals might be lurking out there?”

She was more concerned about the scary male lurking right here. “I was fine,” she repeated. “I had Leo with me and I’m sure he could be pretty fierce if the need arose. Besides that, I always carry bear spray.”

“Which wouldn’t have been particularly useful if you had fallen into the creek, unless a bear fell in at the same time.”

Okay, there was some truth to that, but she refused to live her life in fear. About exploring the Currant Creek backcountry, anyway.

“Nothing happened. Here I am, safe and sound.”

She always felt very protected in the mountains around Hope’s Crossing, though she knew that feeling was likely illusory. A woman on her own could never be completely complacent of her safety. Her brother could probably tell her stories that would raise the hair on the back of her neck.

“That’s good. But seriously, call me next time. Or at least send me a text letting me know where you’re going so we have a starting point for a search if you don’t come back.”

With all the stress in her life, this was one more thing she didn’t want to worry about right now so she quickly changed the subject. “I like your swing.”

He gave her a long look, obviously aware of her transparent conversational ploy. Apparently, he decided to let it stand.

“I’ve always wanted one,” he answered. “A porch swing just seems to represent home to me. Somehow in base housing the opportunity never arose to put one in, and then we moved into a condo near the hospital for Kelli’s treatments and didn’t have a good spot. This is the first time I’ve ever had a front porch. I saw this swing while I was shopping for new bathroom light fixtures today and I couldn’t resist.”

She knew she shouldn’t find that so blasted endearing but she couldn’t seem to help it. The man continually surprised her. She was also more than a little touched, given their history, that he would open up and share something so personal with her.

“Want to give it a trial run with me?” he asked.

“Now, that sounds like a line.”

His low laugh sizzled down her spine. “No. This is a line. I’ve always dreamed of sitting on a porch swing on a lovely May evening with an even lovelier woman.”

“Nice. A little cheesy, but surprisingly effective.”

She saw the gleam of his teeth in the night as he smiled. “Is it?”

Her dog flopped onto the top step of the porch. Again, that warning voice told her to just say good-night and go home, where she was safe.

This didn’t seem a night for making wise choices. Before she could talk herself out of it, she took the final steps to the swing and sat down.

The chains rattled softly as he set the swing in motion and they moved gently there in the darkness, Leo’s panting and the night creatures peeping and humming and the rustling of the leaves against the porch for company.

“In case you’re wondering,” he said after a moment, “I’m not going to ask the obvious. If you’re nervous about tomorrow night, I mean.”

She made a face, though she knew he couldn’t see it. “Thank you. I appreciate your forbearance.”

He laughed softly and the swing moved forward, backward, forward. He was right; this was the perfect spot for a swing, looking out at the mountains.

“In answer to your unasked question, yes. I believe I’ve moved past nervous to scared as hell, venturing into what-was-I-thinking territory. In fact, at this point I’m beginning to think jumping into Currant Creek teeming with bears—and me with no bear spray—would be less intimidating.”

“You’ll be great,” he answered. “I’ve tasted your food, remember. You’ve got the stuff, Alexandra.”

Warmth burst through like a bright sunbeam. “I appreciate the vote of confidence. It helps take me just south of panic.”

“I’m still planning to be there at the opening. I’m looking forward to it.”

“No Ethan tomorrow?”

“No. Nick and Cheri are bringing him up Saturday morning and I’ll drive him back Sunday night. Only two more weeks of school and then he can come permanently.”

“He seems to be excited for the move.”

“He complains about the separations during the week but I think he’s going to miss his cousins when Nicky and his family move to Europe.”

“What about you? Are you going to miss your brother and his family?”

“They’ve been incredibly supportive since Kelli died. I don’t know what I would have done without them these last few years. So, yeah. I’ll miss them but I guess it was time for all of us to make a change.”

“Why Hope’s Crossing? I’m not sure you’ve ever given me a straight answer on that. Colorado is a big state. A guy with your particular skill set probably could have landed anywhere.”

He was silent. “You’re going to think this sounds ridiculous.”

“Try me.”

“When Brodie first talked to me about taking over and finishing the work at Brazen, Ethan and I came out from Denver to see what needed to be done on the site. I remember, it was a Saturday afternoon in March, sunny and cool. After walking through the restaurant, we stopped for lunch at the pizza place in town.”

“They make a good pie. Certainly not worth uprooting your whole life for, though.”

“The food was good, yeah. But while we were eating, at least three different people stopped to say hello and ask if I needed directions anywhere.”

She smiled at the stunned note in his voice. “Yeah, we can all go a little crazy trying to help out lost tourists. It can be annoying.”

“I didn’t think it was annoying. I thought it was wonderful. I still do. I’ve never experienced that sense of community. I want Ethan to have what Nick and I didn’t, you know? Roots. Traditions. A place to belong.”

He was a loving father who would do anything for his child. “What about you?” she asked, mainly to avoid thinking about how sexy she found that. “What do you see in the stars for your future?”

“Same thing, I guess,” he said after a moment. “It will be nice to have my feet planted in one spot for a while.”

He was quiet while the swing continued its hypnotic movement. “I basically went from the chaos of our childhood straight into taking care of Nick and then into the military, and spent the next decade and a half going where I was sent. When Kelli was diagnosed, we were living in Germany. We both decided being near her family during her treatment was our best option. Not one of our smartest decisions, by the way.”

“They weren’t supportive?”

He sighed. “You don’t need to hear this ugly story tonight. Tomorrow’s a big day for you.”

“Distract me.”

“I could come up with far more interesting ways to distract you than talking about the mess I’m leaving in Denver.”

His words vibrated through the night and her insides quivered. She firmly ignored her instantaneous response.

“How about we stick with you telling me what happened with your wife’s family? Why are you leaving a mess?”

“Her father owns a big construction company. Tanner and Sons. A major player in the area. Despite the name, neither of his sons has much interest in construction. One is a teacher and one is an artist and neither stuck around Colorado. I think J.T., Kelli’s father, had some vague idea of eventually handing over the reins to me. He had been after me for a long time to quit the army and go into business with him.”

That would have meant the world to Sam, she thought. Coming from the hardscrabble beginnings he had shared with her, she could only imagine how he must have wanted acceptance from his wife’s family.

“Once I started working for him, I quickly realized our, uh, ethical baselines didn’t quite mesh.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s not unusual in huge construction contracts to underbid the competition and then cut corners so you can still make a profit. J.T. took that to extremes. I guess I was too distracted while Kelli was dying to really pay much attention to anything else. A few months after her death, I sort of woke up one day and realized I couldn’t do some of the things he was asking of me.”

Sam had a strong core of honor. It was one of the things she most admired about him. How had he developed such a thing through the turmoil of his childhood, with a father who had abandoned him and a drug addict for a mother?

“So you quit.”

His rough laugh held little amusement. “I took things a little further than that. I actually ended up turning him in for gross building code violations for an elementary school he was building. Six months ago, I testified against him and the building inspector he was paying off to look the other way. He was convicted of fraud and bribery, among a host of other things, and is headed to prison pending his appeal.”

“I think I read about that case,” she exclaimed. “It must have been ugly.”

“You could say that. I guess it’s also safe to say J.T. and Margeaux won’t be inviting me over to any family barbecues in the near future.”

She didn’t miss the pain in his voice. How hard it must have been for a man who had grown up in chaos and probably craved a family to make choices he knew would cost him dearly.

Despite knowing it probably wasn’t the wisest thing she’d ever done, she reached a hand out and placed it over his fist curled on his thigh, compelled to offer comfort.

“Losing them must have been hard for you.”

He seemed to freeze at her touch and she could hear the quick inhalation of his breath. He held himself stiffly for just a moment and then seemed to relax on a sigh. He even turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers.

The sweetness of the moment nearly took her breath away, sitting here in the darkness with him while the breeze ruffled the new leaves of the big elm beside his house and the dog snuffled softly at their feet.

“It was harder on Ethan,” he said. “He loves his grandparents and doesn’t quite understand another loss.”

“Kids are resilient. They learn to bounce back.”

Ethan would always have a hole somewhere in his heart for his mother and the grandparents, just as she did for her father. People learned to patch up those holes and throw on a little drywall mud and tape until it was almost as good as new.

“I hope so. Being a parent is just about the toughest thing I’ve ever done, especially without Kelli.”

She thought of a tiny baby she had loved inside her for a few short months, that magical time when the world had seemed full of joy and possibilities...until all the pain and hurt came later. Sometimes all the patch jobs in the world couldn’t cover some holes.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. For so many things. For his wife’s death and her parents’ betrayal, for a boy who had grown up without a home he could call his own but had been determined to give first his little brother and then his son something more, for her own mistakes and the chances she had lost because of foolish choices.

The swing continued its endless rhythm, like life, and a soft, tender intimacy swirled around them.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, his voice low.

It seemed the most inevitable thing in the world—natural and sweet and perfect—when he shifted that big, rangy body to face her, cupped her cheek and lowered his mouth to hers.

She sighed, so very drawn to his strength, to his heat, to this hunger that blasted away every thought in her head but more. He kissed her softly, his mouth firm but easy as he delivered slow, tender, barely there kisses that left her achy and trembling.

He pulled her against him, until she was half lying across him on the swing, her legs tucked up beside them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him sweep away all her fears about the next day, every doubt, every qualm, every fretful thought.

He held her close while the swing swayed, while her dog snored, while the night seethed with quiet life around him, and she never wanted the moment to end.

In his arms, she felt this strange sense of safety, peace, comfort.

This wasn’t merely physical desire. Yes, she wanted him in a hundred different ways, but this was something more, something so wild and bright and terrifying she was almost afraid to examine it.

She had to, though. She couldn’t run away from it, couldn’t hide under her bed and pull the covers over her head and pretend this wasn’t happening.

She was falling in love with him.