His Valentine Bride
Cindy Kirk
MS RIGHT… WAS RIGHT UNDER HIS NOSE!Betsy McGregor has harboured a secret crush on Ryan Harcourt since forever. When Betsy lands a new job, she finds herself not only working for the handsome lawyer, but also playing matchmaker for him. And vice versa!The more time Ryan spends trying to find Betsy a match, the more he realises he wants her for himself. Could true love be right in front of him? If only Ryan can get Betsy to admit her true feelings, they could find themselves saying, “I do”…
“Betsy, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her dusty blue eyes met his. For a second all he could think of was how pretty she looked.
“This is something personal.”
“Really?”
Ryan decided to plunge through the slight opening he’d been given. “I’ve never had any trouble talking to women. But when the woman is special to you and she doesn’t know she is, finding the right words can be hard.”
Betsy simply stared.
“Do you know what it’s like to want someone but not be sure if they want you?”
Her eyes never left his face. She nodded slowly.
“To wonder if they only think of you as a friend or if their feelings run as deep as yours but they’re afraid to say anything for fear of looking foolish?”
“I—” Betsy cleared her throat before continuing. “I can relate.”
“Can you?” Ryan reached forward and took her hands. “It’s difficult having such intense feelings but having to keep them hidden.”
Dear Reader,
I’ll let you in on a little secret … I loved writing this book. Yes, it’s true. I’ve liked Ryan since I first introduced him several books ago, and it was time he got his happy ending. I’m also a huge animal lover, and Betsy’s Pomeranian, Puffy, quickly captured my heart. An interesting tidbit is that while I was writing the book I asked readers on my Facebook page to come up with appropriate names for a female Pomeranian. It was a difficult decision (lots of good suggestions), but Puffy seemed a perfect fit. By the way, if you’re not currently my Facebook friend, please consider sending me a friend request.
I also liked the fact that I learned something really interesting in the process of writing this book. I didn’t know much about love tokens before I introduced one into this story. I didn’t realize they were extremely popular in America in the 1800s and that sometimes they were given in lieu of an engagement ring. Some, like the one in this book, were engraved with a sweet verse. Others had initials or names or objects on their surface.
One thing I especially love about the characters in my Rx FOR LOVE series is the friendship and camaraderie they share. Betsy and Ryan are blessed. Not only because they have each other, but because they have this circle of friends who love and support them.
I wish you love and friendship and much happiness!
Warmest regards,
Cindy Kirk
About the Author
CINDY KIRK has loved to read for as long as she can remember. In first grade she received an award for reading one hundred books. As she grew up, summers were her favorite time of year. Nothing beat going to the library, then coming home and curling up in front of the window air conditioner with a good book. Often the novels she read would spur ideas, and she’d make up her own story (always with a happy ending). When she’d go to bed at night, instead of counting sheep, she’d make up more stories in her head. Since selling her first story in 1999, Cindy has been forced to juggle her love of reading with her passion for creating stories of her own … but she doesn’t mind. Writing for the Mills & Boon
Cherish™ series is a dream come true. She only hopes you have as much fun reading her books as she has writing them!
Cindy invites you to visit her website, www.cindykirk.com.
His Valentine
Bride
Cindy Kirk
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Mills & Boon editor—and fellow dog lover—
Shana Smith, whom I’ve had the pleasure
of working with on this book. Thanks for all your help
in making this story the best it could be!
Chapter One
Elizabeth “Betsy” McGregor had been out of work for six weeks, three days and twelve hours. With Thanksgiving closing in, Betsy knew if she didn’t get a job before the holiday season began, she might as well forget about finding one until after the first of the year. Her desperate straits had smacked her in the face last weekend when she’d put pen to paper and determined she only had enough money for one more rent payment. That was the only reason she’d agreed to interview for a position with Ryan Harcourt’s law firm.
Okay, perhaps the medallion she’d dropped into the pocket of her suit jacket this morning had something to do with her decision. She’d been trying to decide if she should keep the interview or cancel when she found the octagon-shaped copper coin while cleaning out her great-aunt’s home. After reading the accompanying note her recently deceased aunt had addressed to her, Betsy had been seized with a certainty that her luck was about to change.
No matter that the percentage of unemployed in Jackson Hole was on the rise or that the holidays were just around the corner. According to Aunt Agatha, the medallion would bring her not only good luck, but also love.
She snorted. It would take a lot for a tarnished metal coin engraved with ivy, a few hearts and some funny French words to send love her way. Luck, she could believe. But love?
Betsy had never been one to lie to herself. Not only was she rapidly approaching thirty, but she was also the epitome of the word average. Average height. Average weight. Average looks. Even her hair was average. Instead of being a rich chestnut-brown like that of her best friend, Adrianna Lee, the strands hanging down her back were a mousy shade of tan. It figured that her eyes couldn’t be a vivid emerald green—like Adrianna’s—but instead were a dusty blue. Not light enough to be interesting nor dark enough to be striking.
Her features were arranged nicely enough, although if she could wave a magic wand, the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose would be banished forever. The only good thing Betsy could say about her appearance was that she was so ordinary she could blend in anywhere.
She pulled the key from the ignition, accepting the truth but irritated by it nonetheless. She didn’t want to be ordinary. Or to blend in. Just once she’d like to be the type of woman who turned heads when she walked down the street. The type of woman a man would see and immediately want by his side. The type of woman a man like Ryan Harcourt could love.
Heat flooded her face at the realization that she was still as foolish as she’d been at age ten when she’d secretly vowed to marry the slender dark-haired boy with the slate-gray eyes.
It hadn’t mattered that he was five years older or that all the middle school girls drooled over him. Unlike most of her brother’s friends, Ryan had always been nice to her. She vividly remembered the day he’d come across some boys taunting her, saying horrible things and making her cry. Ryan had not only run them off, but he’d also walked her home. That was the day she’d fallen in love with him.
That’s why working for him made absolutely no sense. Seeing him every day would be a dream come true and her worst nightmare. He’d be nice to her. She didn’t doubt that in the least. But to have someone see you as only an employee when you yearned for him to see you as a desirable woman, well, it was bound to be difficult.
Still, she’d had a lot of experience handling challenging situations. Hadn’t she survived a childhood with an alcoholic mother and an absent father? The bottom line was she needed a job. She had to have money to pay her bills and to replace the red-tagged furnace at the house she’d inherited from her aunt.
While she hoped the medallion in her pocket would bring good fortune, she wasn’t counting on it. That would be foolhardy. Betsy had always been a firm believer that God helped those who helped themselves. And that’s just what she was doing by interviewing for this job—tossing a Hail Mary and hoping for a touchdown.
Squaring her shoulders, Betsy stepped from her parked car, then paused at the curb to straighten the cuffs of her best camel-colored suit. Because the temperature was a balmy forty-two degrees, she’d slipped on a tan all-weather coat instead of her thick fur-lined parka, the one her brother said made her look like an Eskimo.
The snow from the small storm two days ago had already begun to melt, turning the streets into a slushy mess. Yet the sky was a vivid blue and Betsy reveled in the feel of the sun on her face.
She let her coat hang open and started down the sidewalk toward Ryan’s office. Even though she tried to walk slowly, all too soon the frontage for his office came into view. She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Arriving ten minutes prior to an interview was appropriate. Twenty minutes early smacked of desperation.
While she might indeed be desperate, Betsy certainly didn’t want to give that impression. Perhaps it’d be best if she relaxed in her car a little while longer.
She abruptly turned back in the direction of her vehicle, her mind consumed with the upcoming interview until her heel caught in a crack, plunging her forward.
A tiny cry sprang from her throat as the sidewalk rushed up to greet her. At the last second, a man reached out and grabbed her.
His hands were strong, pulling her to him, steadying her. The chest he held her against was broad. She lifted her head, the words of sincere thanks already formed on her lips. Then she saw his face. Suddenly Betsy found it difficult to think, much less speak. Finally she found her voice. “Ryan?”
He smiled. That boyish, slightly crooked grin was guaranteed to make a woman’s heart skip a beat. It was hard to imagine she’d been in Jackson Hole all these months without their paths crossing. Actually that wasn’t quite true. She’d seen him at a local sports bar a week or so ago, but he’d been too busy flirting with a couple of ski-bunny types to notice her.
Even from a distance, it had been apparent the years had been good to him. Despite being a regular on the rodeo circuit during his college days, Ryan was one of those guys who only got better with age. He was slender, just as she remembered, but now with a man’s broad shoulders and lean hips. His dark hair brushed his collar and tiny laugh lines edged his eyes.
She let her gaze linger a second longer on the crush of her youth packaged in gray dress pants, a charcoal-colored shirt and dark topcoat. After a moment all she could see were those beautiful silver eyes that a girl, er, woman, could get lost in….
“Betsy?” Her name sounded like a husky caress on his lips.
She shivered but not from the cold. In fact, she felt positively warm. Okay, hot. His arms remained around her. Betsy couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close to him. It felt … nice.
“Are you okay?” His beautiful eyes were filled with concern.
She managed a nod and the lines of worry between his brows eased.
“I was on my way to the office,” he said. “I saw your name on the interview list and didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
Even though prior to running into him she’d barely walked ten feet, her breath now came in short puffs. Every inch of her body sizzled.
“Until I received your application I didn’t know you’d moved back.” As if realizing he still held her in his arms, he stepped back and let them drop to his side.
Betsy resisted the urge to pull him close again. Instead she forced a smile. “I’ve been here almost three months. I was working at Dunlop and Sons, but they cut back on employees.”
She saw no reason to mention that Chad Dunlop had wanted to fire her. Only some quick thinking and determination on her part had kept her work reputation intact.
Ryan tilted his head, confusion furrowing his brow. “Hearing that firm is downsizing surprises me. I thought they’d be adding personnel, not cutting back.”
“It was a surprise to me, too.” Betsy lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug.
He took her arm and they continued down the street in the direction of his office.
Despite the layers of clothing between them, Betsy’s arm tingled beneath his touch. She found herself slowing her steps, wishing his office wasn’t so close. She’d like to prolong this time for a few more minutes. But it seemed as if they’d barely started walking when they reached the glass storefront of his law practice.
To her surprise, Ryan kept walking.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “Wasn’t that your office?”
“I thought I’d do the interview at Hill of Beans.” He opened the wooden door, stepping aside and waving her ahead of him. “After your altercation with the sidewalk, I’m sure you need a hot chocolate or a latte to steady your nerves.”
Betsy fought back a rush of pleasure. Going to Jackson’s newest coffee shop with Ryan made this feel more like a date than an interview.
For a Tuesday, the coffee shop—known for its fabulous selection of beverages and bakery items—was surprisingly busy. Although Betsy insisted she wasn’t hungry, Ryan got a large piece of coffee cake for them to share as well as two cups of hot cocoa.
Once they were settled in a booth by the window, Betsy expected him to start rattling off questions. She’d been through so many interviews in the past couple of months that she doubted there was anything he could ask that would catch her off guard.
“I was sorry to hear about your mom.”
Okay, he’d surprised her. Betsy couldn’t remember the last time anyone had mentioned her mother. When she was small, everyone was always commenting on the resemblance. Back then, Betsy had been proud to be compared to her beautiful mother.
It wasn’t until she got a little older that she realized her mother wasn’t pretty. Not on the inside anyway.
“She was drunk when she hit the telephone pole,” Betsy said in the unemotional tone she’d cultivated over the years. “The police said she was going seventy. She barely missed a kid on a bike.”
“She was your mother,” he said softly. “Her death had to hurt.”
Betsy didn’t say anything.
“Is that why you moved back to Jackson?” His large hands encircled the tan coffee mug. “To settle her estate?”
“What estate?” Betsy gave a little laugh. “All she left was a bunch of bills.”
She wondered what Ryan would think if she told him the reason she’d stayed in Kansas City until now was because she’d refused to move back to Jackson Hole as long as her mother was here. He should understand. After all, as a friend of her brother, Keenan, he’d witnessed Gloria’s out-of-control drunken rages.
“I’d wanted to move back for some time,” Betsy said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And Adrianna Lee has been encouraging me to ‘return to my roots’ for years.”
Ryan’s eyes took on a gleam she couldn’t quite decipher. “That’s right. I’d forgotten you and Adrianna were good friends.”
“Since kindergarten.” A smile lifted Betsy’s lips, the way it always did when she thought of her oldest and dearest friend.
“It surprises me that some guy hasn’t snatched her up by now.”
“I guess she just hasn’t found Mr. Right.” Betsy kept her tone light. While Adrianna was beautiful and bright with a great job as an ob-gyn nurse-midwife, her friend had her own demons that made it difficult to trust men.
“I’ve seen her at Wally’s Place,” he said, referring to the popular sports bar that was at the top of everyone’s list. “Rarely with the same guy twice.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Of course she knew, but Betsy was beginning to get a little irritated. She had the feeling Ryan was more interested in talking about everything but his open position.
A sudden thought struck her. Could this be a pity interview? She sat down her cup of cocoa, finding it difficult to breathe. She needed this job. And she’d thought she had a real shot at it. But—
“Enough about her.” Ryan waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s talk about you. How did you like Kansas City?”
His gaze settled on Betsy, as if she was the only woman in the world. Or, at least, the only one who mattered. Even though it was a heady feeling to be the object of such focus, she knew this was simply Ryan’s way. The guy was a natural-born charmer, and she’d do well to keep that fact front and center in her head.
“I liked Kansas,” she said. “But Wyoming has always been home.”
“Your résumé said you graduated from KU with a degree in Political Science.” He smiled and a teasing glint filled his eyes. “Looks like you were planning to go to law school. Am I right?”
“I considered it,” Betsy admitted. “But I really love being a paralegal.”
Betsy went on to tell Ryan that after high school, she’d moved to Lawrence to live with a cousin. She’d worked for a year as a waitress, then decided to give higher education a shot. “After graduating from KU I moved to Kansas City and completed a paralegal program in Overland Park.”
“I bet you’re a dynamite legal assistant,” he said with such sincerity that tears stung the back of her eyes.
“My past employers all seemed to think so.” With the exception of Chad Dunlop, of course.
“Now you’re back in Jackson Hole to stay.”
Betsy nodded. “Shortly after my mother died, my great-aunt passed away and left me her house. Once the furnace is repaired and the city says it’s safe for me to occupy, I’ll move in.”
“The place sounds like a real gem.”
Another woman might have taken offense, but Betsy simply laughed. “It’s definitely a fixer-upper, that’s for sure.”
Having a place to stay rent free—at least once she could move in—was a big plus. But to survive in Jackson Hole, Betsy needed a job. Lately she’d considered practicing saying “Do you want fries with that?” but she enjoyed being a legal assistant and was darn good at her job. Before she gave up on the hope of getting a position in her field, she had to know she’d left no stone unturned.
“You got a great recommendation from the Kansas firm.” Ryan offered an encouraging smile. “Tell me about your duties there.”
“They were a large, diverse practice. Initially I worked for one of the older partners who primarily practiced family law. He had a stroke and was out of the office for an extended period. During that time I helped several of the other partners, which gave me a wide range of experiences.”
Betsy described her duties in greater depths. There were so many interesting stories that she was halfway through the third example when she realized he was smiling at her.
She stopped and raised a hand to her face, praying she didn’t have a hot cocoa mustache or something equally horrifying. “Do I have something on my face? In my teeth?”
“No. Why?”
“You were looking at me so strangely.”
He cocked his head. “Was I?”
“You know you were.” If this was a regular interview, she’d never have challenged him. But this was Ryan.
“I’m just impressed by the breadth of your experience.”
Was that honest-to-goodness admiration she saw reflected in those gorgeous eyes? Before she could respond, a gruff voice filled the air.
“Who let you in the front door?”
Betsy looked up into the grinning face of Cole Lassiter. The owner of the Hill of Beans coffee empire and another of Ryan’s many friends from high school had a devilish gleam in his eyes.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the timing, Lassiter,” Ryan shot back. “You wait until I pay and then you show up.”
Cole chuckled, grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat down at the edge of the booth. He gave Betsy a curious glance. Since moving back, she’d seen Cole, his wife, Margaret, and son, Charlie, in church, but only from a distance.
He was a handsome man with thick dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He and Ryan looked a lot alike—so much so that back in high school, those who didn’t know them well would often mistake one for the other.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Cole’s gaze lingered on Betsy.
“Are you blind?” The look on Ryan’s face would have been laughable at any other time. “It’s Betsy McGregor, Keenan’s little sister.”
Cole shook his head and gave a low whistle. “You were a girl the last time I saw you. Now look at you, all grown up and beautiful.”
Was that a scowl on Ryan’s face? Betsy simply laughed. All her brother’s friends had been blessed with an abundance of charm.
“Congratulations on marrying Margaret Fisher,” Betsy said. “I knew her younger sister better than I did her, but Margaret was always nice to me when I stopped over.”
“I’m a lucky man.” The look on Cole’s face told her he meant every word.
“She might not remember me, but be sure and tell her I said hello.”
“Oh, she’ll remember,” Cole said gallantly. His gaze shifted from Ryan to her, then back to Ryan again. “Are you … dating?”
“Goodness, no.” Betsy spoke quickly before Ryan had a chance to respond. Or heaven forbid, laugh. “I’m interviewing to be his legal assistant.”
Cole shifted his gaze to Ryan. “What happened to Caroline?”
“Her husband got a promotion. They’re leaving for Texas tomorrow.”
“Good for them,” Cole said pointedly. “Bad for you.”
“I was bummed.” Ryan shifted his gaze to her and smiled. “Until I received Betsy’s application.”
Was he saying … Betsy’s fingers stole to the medallion in her pocket.
Ryan saw the look of bald hope on her face. “The position is yours. If you want it.”
“Just like that?” Betsy’s voice shook with emotion. And were those tears in her eyes? “Aren’t you even going to check my references?”
She was a funny sort, all wide-eyed and serious. Ryan had never realized what pretty eyes she had, large and a curious shade of blue with specks of gold. Until she’d stumbled earlier and he’d pulled her close, he’d never realized she had such delectable curves either.
Of course, to him she’d always be Keenan’s little sister. The one who’d toddled after them and messed up their toy soldiers. The one who’d bravely stood up to those bullies who’d taunted her, asking if she was a whore and a drunk like her mother.
He leaned forward resting his arms on the table. “Just tell me you don’t have any deep dark secrets and we’re good.”
“Nope.” She shot him a blinding smile. “What you see is what you get.”
Beside him, Cole started to chuckle. Ryan kicked him before Betsy noticed.
What you see is what you get?
Ryan knew Cole’s mind had gone totally in the wrong direction. Betsy was his new legal assistant, not a potential lover. And perhaps, a friend. A guy couldn’t have too many friends.
He smiled and nodded. Yep, from what he’d seen so far, Betsy was the type of woman who’d make a great buddy.
Chapter Two
When Friday night rolled around, Ryan already had his evening planned. Meet some friends at Wally’s Place, toss back a few cold ones and play a game or two of darts. Then he overheard Betsy talking on the phone to Adrianna and learned there was a party at Michelle Kerns’s house that evening.
Ryan knew the young ob-gyn but not well enough to merit an invitation to her home. When he heard Adrianna was going to be there, his plans for the evening did a one-eighty. Somehow, someway, he would attend that party.
He made a few calls and within a matter of minutes, Mitzi Sanchez reluctantly agreed he could go with her. Mitzi was an orthopedic surgeon he’d dated a few times. As much as he enjoyed the feisty Latina’s company, the chemistry wasn’t there. Now they were simply good friends. Okay, that might be stretching it a bit.
Still, they were good-enough friends that he could tag along with her. Mitzi had made it clear that once they got to the party, he was on his own.
“Would you quit primping?” Mitzi said in a disgusted tone as they made their way up the walk to Michelle’s townhome. “I swear you’re worse than any girl.”
He finished adjusting the cuffs of his sweater. “I love you, too.”
She made a retching noise and rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, thanks for making me your plus-one tonight.” He glanced down at his black jeans and cowboy boots. While the sweater under his jacket dressed up his party attire, he hoped he hadn’t gone too casual. Adrianna was a hard woman to impress, and he’d already blown several opportunities.
“You’re not my plus-one,” she said. “You’re some guy I’m dragging along because I didn’t have the sense to say no.”
That’s what Ryan liked about Mitzi. She told it as she saw it. It was a shame there was no chemistry between them, because not only was she a beautiful woman, she could also sing karaoke like a pro.
“I don’t know you,” he said as they reached the stoop. “Once you get me through the front door, that is.”
“You’ll owe me, Harcourt.” She brushed back a strand of brown hair that looked as if it had been streaked with peanut butter. Although part Argentinean and part Mexican, with her light hair and blue eyes Mitzi looked more Irish than Latina.
“The first time you get slapped with a malpractice suit, I’m your man.”
“What a pleasant thought.” She reached out to press the doorbell, but he gently pushed her arm down.
“Allow me.”
“Such a gentleman,” came the sarcastic reply.
“I aim to please,” he said just as the door opened.
Before she could object, Ryan placed an arm loosely around her shoulders. He half expected Mitzi to shrug it off or punch him in the side. Instead she gave a long-suffering sigh. “Michelle, I believe you know Ryan Harcourt.”
“Of course.” The hostess clasped his hand firmly in greeting. She was tall, with honey-colored hair and big blue eyes. “Welcome. We have wine and beer and snacks. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
Ryan wondered if that meant he could help himself to Adrianna.
He felt Mitzi’s eyes on him as he placed his coat in Michelle’s outstretched hand. For an uncanny moment he had the feeling he could read her mind.
“The answer is no,” Mitzi said as the hostess stepped away, leaving them alone.
“You don’t even know the question,” he protested.
“I have my suspicions.”
“Ryan,” a familiar voice behind him gasped. “Why didn’t you mention you were coming tonight?”
He turned to see Betsy standing in the hallway near what was obviously the kitchen, holding a glass of white wine. Like the hostess and most of the other women in the room, she wore jeans and a sweater suitable for the ski slopes.
She’d done something different with her hair. He narrowed his gaze. “You look nice.”
“You like it?” Pleasure ran through her words. She raised a hand to her hair that had been long and sleek during the day and now stopped at her shoulders and had a bunch of layers. “I got it cut after work.”
The new style emphasized her large eyes and made her cheekbones more pronounced. He realized suddenly that his friend’s sister—and his new employee—was a very attractive woman. “I do like it.”
Even if he hadn’t, the blinding smile she shot him would have been worth any lie. But it was the truth and he was glad he’d said it. Even after only three days in the office, he’d discovered Betsy responded best to positive reinforcement.
“Are you and Mitzi dating?” she asked, twisting the toe of her shoe into the hardwood.
Ryan glanced across the room where his “date” stood chatting with Benedict Campbell, one of the physicians in her practice. Even though Mitzi claimed to hate the man, she’d protested so much that Ryan suspected there were some red-hot sparks beneath that animosity.
“Nah,” he said. “She just didn’t want to come to the party alone, so I agreed to come with her.”
He glanced around the room. Smooth jazz was playing low in the background and the wine was being served in crystal glasses. Although everyone was dressed casually—practically a given in Jackson Hole—Ryan instantly knew that this wasn’t his kind of party. Although he’d gone back East for law school and had attended many elegant events, he was a country boy at heart. Give him a can of beer, a bowl of chips and football on the flat screen and he was happy.
“Who did you come with?” he asked Betsy politely. Not because he was particularly interested in who she was dating, but rather to pass the time while he searched the room for the woman he’d come to see.
“Oh, look, there’s Adrianna,” Betsy said.
Like a hunting dog that had just gotten a whiff of a delectable scent, Ryan stiffened. He forced a casual smile to his lips. “I haven’t seen Adrianna in months. I bet I wouldn’t even recognize her.”
Even as he said the words, Ryan had to stifle a smile. As if he’d ever forget even the minutest detail about anything to do with Adrianna.
“Oh, I’m sure you would,” Betsy said with great earnestness. “She looks the same. The stylist tried to get her to do something different, but you know Adrianna. She dug in those heels and refused to let him touch her hair.”
“Her hair is beautiful,” Ryan said without thinking. “It would have been a shame to cut it.”
“Ryan agrees with you,” Betsy said and he shifted his gaze to see Adrianna standing there.
“Really.” Adrianna’s cool green eyes settled on him. “About what?”
“About cutting your hair,” Betsy said, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. “He said why fool with perfection?”
Ryan didn’t remember saying those exact words, but it was a true sentiment nonetheless.
Adrianna didn’t appear impressed. In fact she was looking at him as if he was the lowest form of worm. Surely she wasn’t holding that one little prank all those years ago against him?
“Ryan is the best boss, Anna,” Betsy said, the words laden with sincerity. “I’m so glad I returned to Jackson Hole.”
“I’m certainly happy you’re back, Bets.” A warmth filled Adrianna’s voice and when she glanced at Ryan, some of the coolness in her eyes thawed. Apparently the nurse-midwife appreciated him more because he’d been good to her friend.
Ryan wondered if telling Adrianna that he’d given Betsy the afternoon off would give him extra points or make him look like a suck-up. He decided not to chance it. “I couldn’t believe it when Betsy showed up to interview, but I’m sure glad she did.”
From the continued thawing in Adrianna’s eyes, he was onto something here.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, smiling at her. He would have included Betsy, but she already had a drink in her hand.
“I’m good.” Instead of meeting his gaze and letting him drown in those emerald-green depths, she glanced around the room. “There’s Travis and Mary Karen Fisher. I need to pop over and say hello.”
Ryan’s heart dropped as she started to walk away, her high-heeled boots clicking on the hardwood, her cute little derriere swaying in those tight-fitting jeans. But at the last minute, she glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a brilliant smile.
“You take care of Betsy,” she said in a low husky voice that conjured up images of rumpled sheets and entwined limbs. “See that she has a good time.”
“Anna,” Betsy moaned, but Ryan scarcely noticed.
How long had it been since Adrianna had smiled at him with such warmth? Years, he thought to himself, too many to count. She was clearly softening to him, which meant if he played his cards right, it wouldn’t be long until she was his.
Betsy stared at her friend’s retreating back and felt heat rise up her neck. The next time she got Adrianna alone, she was going to read her the riot act. Why, she’d practically thrown her at Ryan.
Not that he’d protested, she thought, looking for the silver lining. In fact he seemed in a remarkably good mood.
“Do you want to scope out the appetizers?” she asked. “Not that you have to go with me. Adrianna was just kidding. I don’t need anyone taking care of me.”
She was on the verge of saying more when she snapped her mouth shut. Men hated women who babbled, and right now she was poised to babble with the best of them.
“I’d like to check out the food.” Her heart skipped a beat when he held out his arm. “If I remember correctly the only thing you need to avoid is anything with shrimp.”
Betsy groaned. Honest to goodness groaned. “Of all the things to remember, you had to recall that?”
“It’s not every day I get to see a person covered in hives,” he said with a little too much enthusiasm for her liking. “You even had them on your—”
“Scalp,” she said. “Yes, I remember.”
“Keenan put that pink stuff all over your skin,” he said, warming to the memory. “It looked like Pepto-Bismol.”
“Don’t remind me.” She remembered that night well. Her mother had been out running around God knew where and Betsy had been hungry. She’d eaten some old shrimp rollups they’d had in the freezer. That’s when the hives had broken out. She’d been terrified, then relieved when Keenan had come home early.
But when she saw whom he was with, her terror had turned to horror. The last person she’d wanted to see her with those big red welts covering her skin was Ryan. But he hadn’t laughed or made fun of her. Instead he’d called his parents to find out what they should do.
While Keenan had helped smear the Caladryl lotion on her hard-to-reach places, Ryan had run to the corner store and gotten an antihistamine for her to take. By the time her mother finally dragged herself through the front door at 3:00 a.m., the hives had already started to fade.
“Hey.” He leaned closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “How many men can say they’ve seen you at your worst?”
“Ha, ha.” Betsy was thankful her voice came out all casual and offhand, which was a real feat considering her knees had gone boneless and she was having difficulty thinking with him so near.
He sat back and his gaze zeroed in on a large buffet table at the back of the great room. A pristine white linen cloth with scalloped edges covered the oak top, but it appeared to be the food which had captured Ryan’s attention.
“Is that—” he turned to her, his eyes wide and guileless “—shrimp cocktail? I could get you one. Maybe you’re not allergic anymore.”
Betsy jabbed him in the ribs, forgetting he was the man she’d loved—and lusted after—for years. “Settle down, or I’m going to tell everyone the story of when Keenan locked you out of the locker room in your boxers—”
“You’re right. Stay clear of the shrimp.”
She couldn’t help it. Betsy laughed with sheer joy. This was the Ryan she wanted. Not the perfectly behaved gentleman lawyer who hadn’t cracked one joke all week. But the Ryan who made her laugh and with whom she shared a common history.
If only she could figure out a way to capture this moment. And better yet, find a way to translate friendship into love.
In the past ninety minutes Adrianna had talked to everyone but him. Yet Ryan wasn’t discouraged. He’d already accomplished a lot for one evening. When the hostess suggested a rousing game of charades, he knew it was time to leave on a high note.
Ryan glanced at the woman by his side, delicately picking a piece of chicken meat from the bone. Her brows were pulled together and she was studying the tiny piece of meat as if it were a complex legal case she was researching. He got the feeling Betsy was bored, too.
Actually, he realized, she was what had saved this party from being a total washout. They’d roamed the room like a couple of old friends, laughing and talking to others they knew and some they’d just met. The buffet table had drawn their attention several times and they’d picked and chosen from its sumptuous bounty.
Betsy was fun, with a quick wit and a sly sense of humor in sync with his own. They talked about the old days and he’d just finished reliving his high school prom debacle when Betsy had decided she desperately needed more wings.
“It’s no wonder you had to lasso a few more,” he said to her. “There isn’t enough meat on one to feed an ant.”
A becoming shade of pink rose up her neck, but she lifted her chin. “I didn’t eat supper. So I’m not quite the porker I appear to be.”
“Porker?” He dropped his gaze and slowly surveyed her lean but curvy body. “Not hardly.”
The pink on her cheeks deepened to red. “You don’t need to make nice,” she said with a dismissive wave. “I love to eat. In fact several times during my childhood I was sorely tempted to cut the candy heart out of my Raggedy Ann.”
“You played with dolls?”
“I did when I was a little girl.”
“You just never seemed the doll-playing type to me,” he said. “I don’t recall seeing any lying around your house.”
“That’s because I hardly had any.” Betsy dropped the chicken wing to her plate, then wiped her fingers on a linen napkin. “Keenan bought Raggedy Ann for me with his paper-route money. She was my first and only doll. He was ten and I was five.”
“Keenan bought a doll with his paper-route money.” Ryan could barely fathom that the rough-and-tumble friend from his youth would do something like that, even if it was for his little sister.
The realization that perhaps he hadn’t known Keenan as well as he thought he did hadn’t even had time to settle in when Betsy grabbed the front of his sweater in her hand and pulled him close. “Don’t you say one word to him about it either.” Her eyes grew piercing. “Understand?”
Ryan considered teasing her a bit more, but something in her eyes made him simply nod. Growing up in the McGregor household hadn’t been easy for either Keenan or Betsy. If his friend had found a way to make it easier on his little sister, well, Ryan would give him a break on the doll thing.
Betsy’s gaze drifted to the groups already forming for the game. She wrinkled her nose. “I hate charades.”
“That makes two of us,” Ryan said. “Want to sneak out?”
A look he couldn’t quite decipher skittered across Betsy’s face. Then she sighed. “You came with Mitzi, remember?”
Mitzi? Heck, he hadn’t seen the brunette since he’d walked through the door behind her. And that was just the way they both wanted it. “We drove separately.”
Ryan thought for a minute. He hadn’t seen Betsy with anyone all night, with the exception of him, of course. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t come with someone. “What about you?”
“I’m on my own.” The words came out on a little sigh.
“Good.”
She cocked her head. “Why good?”
He smiled. “Because you and I are going to do some serious partying and now there’s nothing standing in our way.”
Chapter Three
Betsy glanced at the glass of wine in her hand. Could someone have slipped something in her drink? That was the only explanation. She had to be hallucinating. There was no way on God’s green earth that Ryan Harcourt would ask her to party with him.
She glanced up and into those eyes that reminded her of liquid silver. “Pardon?”
“Good. I knew you’d be up for it.” He disappeared into a bedroom and returned with two coats—her Eskimo-inspired parka and his stylish but rugged L.L.Bean coat.
“How did you know this one was mine?” she asked, slipping her arm into one sleeve.
“You’ve worn it to the office every day this week.”
Yes, but it had also been safely tucked into the coat closet by the time he arrived. While it was warm, Betsy was well aware it wasn’t the most fashionable of outerwear. Obviously all her stealth had been for nothing.
The man was observant. Too observant. Alarm bells began ringing in her head. He’d noticed her coat. What would be next? Would he one day look in her eyes and see what she tried so hard to hide?
He can’t know I love him. I won’t allow that to happen.
“Nothing gets past you,” she said with a halfhearted chuckle.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he said, sounding pleased.
Before Betsy knew what was happening, he’d hauled her off to the hostess, and they’d said their goodbyes to everyone, including Adrianna, who seemed oddly pleased to see her best friend leaving the party early.
Because Betsy and Ryan both lived not far from downtown Jackson, she dropped her car at her home and they took his truck from there. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea. What if she wanted to leave the bar before Ryan was ready to go? But he assured her that he would leave whenever she said the word.
It made sense, she supposed, to ride together. After all, parking was at a premium in downtown Jackson, especially on a weekend night. Luckily a big Ram 4x4 was just pulling out of a spot on the street when they drew close.
Ryan shot a smile at her and stopped to wait. “Looks like this is our lucky day.”
Our lucky day. Not his lucky day. Not her lucky day. But ours.
Even though Betsy liked the sound of that—liked it a lot—it didn’t mean she’d lost all power of rational thought. She knew she’d simply been in the right place at the right time. Ryan had wanted to ditch the party and it looked better to be leaving with her than to leave alone. Still, “our lucky day” did have a nice ring.
“I’m going to leave my coat in the car,” Betsy said as he pulled into the vacated parking spot. She unfastened her seat belt, then reached for the zipper to her parka.
“Let me help you with that.” Ryan leaned over and assisted her with slipping the jacket from her shoulders.
She looked up and their eyes met. Electricity filled the air. Betsy held her breath.
But when he stepped from the truck without saying another word, she decided it must have been only her own overactive imagination conjuring up something that wasn’t there.
“I’m glad we found a close spot,” Betsy said over her shoulder. She’d started hurrying along the sidewalk the second her boots hit the pavement. Although she knew it would be toasty warm inside the crowded bar, outside the wind held a bone-chilling bite.
Despite her rush, Ryan still reached the door to the bar first. Like a proper gentleman, he pulled it open, then stepped aside, motioning her inside.
Betsy slipped past him, taking one deep breath of his spicy cologne before the pleasing scent was lost in the smell of sawdust, French fried potatoes and peanuts.
Ryan leaned close, shouting in her ear, “It’s packed tonight.”
She nodded, unable to keep the smile from her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Okay, it had been Tuesday when Ryan had told her the job was hers. And again that day, when she’d learned that the salary was considerably higher than what she’d been making at her previous position.
But this, well, this was different. This was a fantasy come to life. A night out with Ryan. She felt as if she was at a craps table in Vegas rolling sevens.
“Ryan, ohmigod, someone said you weren’t coming tonight.”
The sexy, breathless voice belonged to one of the blondes Betsy had seen him with last week. Her hair was tousled around her pretty face, but it wasn’t her bright smile that seemed to capture Ryan’s attention. It was her chambray shirt with pearl buttons hanging open, showing an amazing amount of cleavage. Even Betsy was impressed.
Snake eyes, she could almost hear the craps dealer call out. Her luck had come to an end.
“Who’s she?” The young blonde’s brows furrowed as she finally noticed the former bull rider wasn’t alone.
“This is Betsy,” Ryan crooked a companionable arm around her shoulders. “She’s an old friend.”
Old friend. Hmm. Better than saying she was his employee.
The blonde looked her up and down, clearly not liking where Ryan’s arm was positioned. “I bet you don’t play darts.”
Before Betsy could answer, the woman jerked a thumb toward Ryan. “Me and him are a winning combination.”
“Actually I’ve tossed quite a few in my time.” Quite a few may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but Keenan had taught her how to hold and toss a dart. At one time she’d been pretty good at it, too, but that had been years ago.
“I don’t think so.” The girl sniffed.
Betsy felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She narrowed her gaze. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Ladies, ladies.” Ryan may have spoken to both of them, but it was Betsy who found herself on the end of his conciliatory smile. “There’s no shame in not playing.”
He thought she was lying, too. Betsy pressed her lips together and counted to ten. When she finally found her voice, she pinned the young blonde with her gaze. “Let’s play a game. Then you can offer me an apology.”
A momentary indecision filled the girl’s gaze. She shot a glance in Ryan’s direction.
Someone handed him a beer and he smiled benignly at the two women. “Sounds like a good solution to me,” he said, taking a sip.
Suspicion filled the blonde’s eyes. She glanced from Ryan to Betsy. “Is this some kind of setup?”
“A setup?” Betsy asked, puzzled.
Ryan simply grinned and took another drink.
“It is.” The blonde tossed her head, sending her hair cascading down her back. “Well, you can forget it. I’m not playing along.”
She turned abruptly and sashayed her way across the bar, her head held high.
“What’s up with her?” Betsy asked.
“Heidi doesn’t—”
“Her name is Heidi?” Betsy bit back a giggle, the name conjuring up an image of a mountain girl frolicking with goats.
Ryan began to nod, then paused. “At least I think that’s her name.”
“She looks more like a Bambi to me.” The second the words left her mouth, Betsy wished she could pull them back. Even though the girl’s attitude rubbed her wrong, there was no need to stoop to her level.
“Maybe that is her name,” Ryan said, her comment appearing to have gone straight over his head. “I don’t remember.”
The fact that he wasn’t really on a first-name basis with the curvaceous blonde buoyed Betsy’s spirits. She couldn’t keep a smile from her lips.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.
“Club soda with a twist of lime, please.”
“Ah, so you’ve decided to be a little wild and crazy tonight,” he said teasingly. “I like it.”
He’d barely left for the bar when Betsy saw her former employer, Chad Dunlop, making his way through the crowd. Dressed in jeans and a navy long-sleeved cotton shirt, he looked different than he did in the office. There he always wore a hand-tailored suit and shiny Italian shoes with names she couldn’t begin to pronounce.
She supposed she could have moved or looked away, but she didn’t. When she’d walked out of his family’s law offices all those weeks ago, Betsy had vowed that she wouldn’t let anyone make her feel like a victim. If anyone should feel awkward about their paths crossing again, it should be him.
He saw her and changed course, making his trajectory one that would intersect with her. It figured that he wasn’t smart enough to leave well enough alone.
Betsy wasn’t sure of his motives, but there was one thing of which she was certain. She wasn’t going to run or back down. If Chad was foolish enough to cause a scene, the only loser tonight was going to be him.
While Ryan waited at the bar for Betsy’s club soda—with a hint of lime—he flirted with a few of the waitstaff. Out of the corner of one eye, he kept watch on Betsy. Although he’d expected her to snag a table, she stood in the same spot he’d left her.
The only difference was her back was now ramrod straight. As he watched, she lifted her chin.
“Hurry up, Wally,” he said to the bartender without moving his gaze from Betsy. “The lady is really thirsty.”
Of course it wasn’t true, but Betsy was Keenan’s little sister and nothing was going to happen to her on Ryan’s watch. For some reason, he had a feeling she needed him.
“Here you go.” The plump, bald-headed owner of the establishment set the drink on the bar. “Can I get you a draw?”
“Not now.” Without shifting his gaze from Betsy, Ryan curved his fingers around her glass of soda.
He started through the crowd, smiling when someone called out a greeting or slapped him on the shoulder but not slowing his steps. Ryan was almost to Betsy when he saw him.
Chad Dunlop had been a senior at Jackson Hole High School when Ryan was a sophomore. They’d been on the football team at the same time. Ryan had no use for the man. As a boy, he’d had a mean streak. As a man, there was something about him Ryan didn’t trust.
From the defiant way she was standing, Betsy didn’t like the guy any more than he did. Even though Chad had given her a glowing letter of recommendation, Ryan wondered if there was more to the story of her departure than a simple downsizing.
No time like the present to find out. He reached his friend’s little sister at the same time as the attorney.
“Chad,” Ryan said in a hearty tone. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Ryan turned to Betsy and handed her the club soda. “Sorry it took so long.”
Chad’s gaze turned sharp and assessing. “You’re together?”
“Betsy and I are old friends,” Ryan said. “I understand she worked for you for a while.”
For a second, the man’s smooth facade slipped and the bully Ryan remembered from all those years ago stood before him.
“Yeah, what of it? We had to downsize.” Chad’s pale blue eyes settled on Betsy. “Whatever else she told you is a lie.”
Anger rolled off Betsy in waves. If looks could kill, Chad would be six feet under.
“She didn’t tell me anything.” Ryan kept his gaze fixed on the tall blond man. “But sounds as if there’s something to tell.”
Chad shot Betsy a warning glance, then turned to Ryan. “Lynnette is waiting for me at home. We’re taking the kids over to the grandparents’ tonight.”
If Chad was trying to convince Ryan he was a committed family man, he might as well have saved his breath. Ryan had seen the way the guy flirted with the waitstaff.
“Jerk,” Betsy muttered as Chad spun on his heel and walked away.
“You got that right,” Ryan said.
Betsy looked surprised. “You know about him?”
“I know he’s got a wife and kids, but he’s no family man.” Ryan met her gaze. “I don’t know what he did to you.”
Betsy averted her gaze and took a sip of her club soda. Her hand shook slightly. “Who said he did anything?”
“You did.” Ryan put a hand on her arm and steered her to a table that a couple had just vacated. It was away from the karaoke stage and far from the three-piece band playing country classics. A quiet spot. Or at least as quiet as it got in Wally’s Place.
“I did not.”
“You said, and I quote, ‘You know about him?’”
“That didn’t mean anything.”
“It did, but you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” Even though Ryan wanted to know what Chad had done to put the anger in her eyes, he was determined not to press. Until he saw tears forming.
She blinked rapidly and immediately lowered her gaze to her drink, as if hoping he hadn’t noticed.
But he’d noticed all right. He placed a hand on her arm. “You can trust me.”
She looked up and met his gaze. Something in the liquid blue depths told Ryan he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
“This has to stay here,” she said finally. “Just between us.”
Ryan nodded. “Understood.”
“Chad attacked me in the boardroom.”
“He what?” Ryan shouted. He rose from his seat, but Betsy grabbed his hand and pulled him down.
“Keep your voice down,” Betsy ordered. “This is between us, not everyone else in the bar.”
“Tell me,” Ryan demanded. “And don’t leave anything out.”
Although he’d been in his share of fights, Ryan wasn’t a violent man. But this was his friend’s sister and Keenan was, well, he wasn’t here. Betsy had no one to protect her. No one but him.
“We were working late on a case.” Betsy’s voice shook slightly.
Ryan tightened his fingers around the edge of the table. Let her talk, he told himself, don’t interrupt.
Betsy glanced down at her club soda and took a deep breath. She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “He made remarks about my—” she paused and chewed on her lower lip, then glanced down at her chest “—breasts. Apparently he likes women who have, uh, who are generously endowed.”
Ryan wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Everyone in town knew that in looks she’d taken after her Las Vegas showgirl mother. He hadn’t really paid attention to her curvaceous figure—she was Keenan’s sister, for crying out loud—but had no doubt other men had noticed.
“I told him that kind of talk wasn’t appropriate. That he was my employer.” A bleakness filled her eyes for a second, then disappeared. “He laughed and said if it bothered me, I’d have said something long before then.”
Ryan chose his words carefully. “Had he made other overtures?”
Betsy gave a jerky nod. “The first day I started, he made some comment about how my dress flattered my figure. It wasn’t so much what he said as how he said it. I didn’t like the way his gaze lingered on my chest, but I told myself I was simply being overly sensitive.”
“Then what happened?” Ryan forced a conversational tone at odds with the anger sluicing through his veins.
“The comments continued, becoming more blatant, more…crude.” Betsy’s eyes took on a distant look. “I started searching for another job, but there was nothing. And he was very careful to be perfectly respectful when we were around other people.”
“How did you end up alone with him?”
Thankfully she didn’t appear to take offense at the question. “One of the other attorneys was with us, but she got a call that her child was sick and had to suddenly leave. We were almost through, so I thought it would be okay.”
“What happened?” Ryan asked through gritted teeth.
“He started talking about how I wanted it, how I wanted him. I tried to laugh it off, but he was, well, he was acting crazy. He lunged at me, tore my silk blouse. I’m not sure how far he would have taken it. I used one of the self-defense moves Keenan had taught me and I got away.”
“You should have called the police, charged him with attempted rape.”
“It would have been my word against his…and we both know that his family’s reputation in the community is so much better than mine.”
“Still—”
She placed a hand on his arm. “He wanted to fire me, but I told him he would give me a good reference and say I was downsized. If he didn’t, I’d go to the police.”
“The authorities need to know what he did.” His lips were stiff and the words sounded as if they were coming from far away.
“Ryan.” Her tone took on an urgency. “Listen to me. You don’t know what it’s like coming from a family like mine. I want to put all that behind me. I don’t want to go to court and feel like a victim and then have people look at me and whisper and wonder what I did to encourage him.”
Ryan clenched his hands into fists. “I hate the thought of his getting away with this.”
“As do I,” she said in a sad little voice. “But that’s how it has to be.”
“I suppose …” Ryan fought to keep a lid on the anger rising inside him. The thought of Chad talking to Betsy in that manner, of touching her, made him want to go over to his house and punch him in the nose.
“You promised me,” she reminded him.
“I won’t do anything.”
“Or say anything.”
“Or say anything,” Ryan reluctantly agreed, not liking this arrangement at all and already trying to think of a way around it. Must be the lawyer in him.
“Thank you.” Her hand reached over and covered his, giving it a squeeze. Then, as if realizing what she’d done, she pulled it back. “You know, I vowed to never tell anyone about the incident.”
“Why?”
“I felt stupid, almost as if I was the guilty one.”
“That’s how predators like Chad want you to feel.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh.
“You didn’t tell anyone?” A thought struck him. “Not even Adrianna?”
Betsy shook her head.
“Yet you told me.”
“Maybe because you were available.” She gave a little laugh. “Maybe it was time to get it off my chest.”
He winced at the pun and she chuckled.
“Seriously, I feel better.”
“I’m glad you do. But I’m mad as hell.” If Chad had been standing in front of him now, Ryan would have decked the guy.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I’m glad you did,” he said, realizing it was true. He’d known Betsy as long as he’d known Keenan. He’d watched her struggle to grow up in that difficult home life. She had every reason to be proud of her success in breaking free of her mother’s world. “That’s what friends are for.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
“Absolutely.” Ryan looked into her soft blue eyes and made a vow. While Keenan was away, he would be Betsy’s champion, her protector and her friend.
As long as he was around, no man was going to even look at her wrong. If they did, they’d answer to him.
Chapter Four
“That pond-sucking scum.” Adrianna’s green eyes flashed and she placed the dress back on the rack with extra force.
Betsy had just finished telling her friend the same story she’d told Ryan last night. The way she figured, she couldn’t tell him about Chad and keep her best friend in the dark.
When Adrianna had called Saturday morning and mentioned doing some shopping, Betsy had been seriously tempted to beg off. After recounting the tale of that night in the boardroom with Chad, she’d had difficulty sleeping.
But she’d decided nothing would be accomplished by moping in her apartment. And she wasn’t in the mood to go over to Aunt Agatha’s home—with no heat—and clean.
“Let’s not talk about Chad anymore,” Betsy said. “He’s so not worth the time.”
Adrianna met her gaze. “You should file charges.”
“That’s what Ryan said,” Betsy said with a sigh.
“You told Ryan Harcourt the story?” Adrianna’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Before you told me?”
Betsy briefly explained about running into Chad at Wally’s Place. “I have to admit I felt better getting it off my chest.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?” Hurt underscored Adrianna’s words. “You had to know I’d be there for you.”
“I was embarrassed,” Betsy began, then paused when the clerk, who’d been hovering just out of earshot, moved closer.
“Is there anything I can help you ladies find?” the woman asked.
Adrianna flashed her trademark smile at the plump grandmotherly type. “Thank you, but we’re just looking.”
After making them promise to let her know if they needed anything, the woman bustled off to help a customer at the cash register.
“Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Betsy said. “Delivered any babies lately?”
It was a question guaranteed to change the subject. Her friend loved her job as a nurse-midwife and could talk about it anytime, anywhere.
Adrianna laughed. “All I’m saying is that nine months ago must have been an extremely busy time. It’s been crazy lately.”
“Maybe one of these days it’ll be you or me having a little one.” The second the words left her lips, Betsy wished she could pull them back. With Adrianna being so commitment-phobic and her being so, well, it wasn’t as if men were beating down her door, the odds that either one of them would end up with a home and family of her own were decreasing every day.
“Perhaps.” Adrianna gave a little shrug, her eyes giving nothing away. “By the way, did I mention that I got a text from Tripp Randall the other day?”
Betsy thought for a moment. “Tall, sandy-haired guy? His dad had cattle?”
“That’s the one.”
“Does he still live in Jackson Hole?” She hadn’t heard the name since she moved back.
“His parents do, but he’s been living back East since he got out of college.”
Betsy wasn’t surprised. A lot of the people who grew up in Jackson Hole and left for college didn’t come back. But one thing did surprise her. “Why did he text you?”
“His wife, Gayle Doyle, and I were friends.” Adrianna put down the gold sweater she’d picked up only moments before. Her hands fluttered to her hair, nervously pushing a long strand of chestnut hair back from her face. “We played on the volleyball team together. She was a wing spiker. You could always count on Gayle to make the big play.”
If it were anyone else, Betsy would have labeled the talk nervous chatter. But Adrianna never chattered.
“You remember Gayle, Bets.” Adrianna’s eyes were a little too bright. “She was a senior when we were freshmen.”
Betsy thought harder and an image of a vivacious brunette came into focus. Betsy never realized she and Anna were friends.
Acquaintances, yes. But friends? Gayle had been so much older. Not to mention popular.
“So Gayle and Tripp married and now he’s texting you.” Betsy picked up a tan cardigan. Adrianna shook her head ever so slightly and Betsy dropped the sweater back on the stack. “My question is, what does Gayle think of his contacting you?”
Sudden sadness filled Adrianna’s eyes. “Gayle died during childbirth several years ago.”
Betsy gasped. “I didn’t think that kind of thing happened anymore.”
“It doesn’t. Not often anyway.” Adrianna expelled a heavy sigh. “It’s always so sad when it does.”
“What went wrong?”
“The placenta separated from the uterine wall. There was massive bleeding. Both she and the baby died.”
Betsy thought of Gayle with her laughing dark eyes and big smile. She’d always seemed so full of life. Now she was dead. “Did they have other children?”
Adrianna shook her head. “That baby was their first.”
“You still didn’t say why he contacted you.”
“I think he’s lonely. He texts me every now and again.”
Okay, so the guy was lonely. Betsy noticed her friend hadn’t really answered her question. “Sounds to me like he might be on the hunt for a new wife.”
Adrianna took extra time inspecting what looked to be a snag in a pair of silk pants. She spoke without lifting her gaze. “Tripp lived down the road from me growing up. He was like a big brother. Sort of like you and Ryan. Same kind of relationship.”
Betsy inhaled sharply. She’d often thought that Adrianna suspected she liked Ryan a whole lot more than she let on. Now she was unsure whether the comment meant that Adrianna liked Tripp, as in really liked him, or if they were simply friends. She put a hand to her head. This was getting so confusing.
Adrianna placed the pants back on the rack. “Tripp wanted to tell me he was—”
A shrill, pulsating sound filled the air, drowning out the rest of Adrianna’s words.
“I’m sorry, ladies.” The clerk reappeared, but this time her friendly smile seemed forced and there were lines of strain around her eyes. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the building.”
“Is there a fire?” Betsy sniffed the air. She didn’t smell smoke or see any flames.
“A fire hasn’t been identified.” The woman herded them in the direction of the front door as she spoke. “We’ve had some electrical problems the past few days. I’m sure this is part of that issue. Still, we can’t take any chances.”
“Of course not,” Adrianna murmured.
Once they were out on the sidewalk, Betsy turned toward her friend, eager to hear more. “Tell me—”
Adrianna raised a hand and slipped her cell phone out of her pocket. With the sirens of fire trucks filling the air, Betsy hadn’t even heard it ring.
Her friend listened for several seconds, asked a few questions, then told the person she was speaking with that she’d be right there.
“What’s up?” Betsy asked.
“Baby on the way.” Adrianna reached into her bag for her car keys. “Sorry to cut short our shopping trip.”
Betsy glanced at the firemen hustling into the boutique. It didn’t look as though she and Adrianna would have been returning to that store anytime soon. “No worries.”
“I’ll call you later and we’ll set up another time,” Adrianna said.
“Then you can tell me all about Tripp,” Betsy said pointedly.
“Nothing to tell,” Adrianna said over her shoulder as she started down the sidewalk. “Old friend. No big deal.”
Betsy opened her bag and took out her keys, pondering the words. Old friends. She thought about Ryan. Thought about Adrianna’s blasé attitude. Thankfully Tripp lived far away. If he lived close, Betsy might have to warn Adrianna that a girl needed to watch out for old friends. They could be dangerous, very dangerous, to a woman’s heart.
The next couple of weeks passed quickly. Betsy and Adrianna talked on the phone but never did find another time to get together. At work, Betsy settled into a comfortable relationship with Ryan.
He treated her like a good friend.
She fell more deeply in love.
Even though she tried to hide her feelings, she wondered if he was starting to see through her. Several times in the past few days she’d caught him eyeing her curiously when he didn’t think she was looking.
Today she’d made a concerted effort to keep her distance.
“In the mood for a cappuccino?” he asked unexpectedly as the end of the day loomed.
Betsy would die for a shot of espresso, but it wouldn’t be wise to encourage such closeness. Just say no, she told herself.
“Absolutely,” she said instead. “Do you want me to finish up these documents first?”
“They’ll still be here tomorrow.” He grabbed her parka from the closet and handed it to her. “You’ll need this. The temperature has dropped at least twenty degrees since this morning.”
“I haven’t been outside,” Betsy admitted, then swallowed a groan. Ryan had made it clear when she started working for him that she needed to take a lunch break.
But he didn’t appear to make the connection. Instead, his eyes took on a distant, faraway look.
“I met Cole for lunch,” Ryan murmured, his mind drifting back to their conversation. Talking with his friend about old football plays had gotten Ryan thinking that an offense-driven approach would be more productive than waiting around.
It was then that he’d begun to formulate his game plan. He wasn’t sure how Betsy would react to his declaration, but he certainly wasn’t making any progress with his current strategy. He could have said something to her in the office, but because it was a personal issue, he wanted to do it in a nonwork setting.
Because it was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and midafternoon, Hill of Beans should be fairly deserted. After helping Betsy on with her coat—obviously made to withstand a subarctic blast—he shrugged on his own jacket, then opened the door and waited for her to pass.
As she slipped out the door, he caught a whiff of vanilla and smiled. After almost two weeks he’d finally made the connection: Betsy smelled like his mother’s kitchen on baking day.
A pleasant scent for a pleasant coworker. Having Betsy in the office had worked out better than he ever imagined. She was prompt, efficient and managed to somehow anticipate his every need. They were like a well-oiled machine. He hoped today’s conversation wouldn’t affect that happy balance.
The wind was brisk, but thankfully the coffee shop sat just around the corner. Before long, they were inside the warm shop with cups of frothy cappuccino before them.
“Got big plans for the Thanksgiving weekend?” he asked.
“Adrianna is having a few people over on Thursday.” Betsy took a sip of her drink. “I’m helping.”
“I bet you’re an excellent cook.”
Red crept up her neck, although his comment seemed to please her. “I could be awful.”
“You’re too competent at everything you do to be awful.”
She frowned slightly and took a sip of her drink.
Even though he’d meant it as a compliment, for some reason that’s not how she’d appeared to have taken it. Since when wasn’t “competent” a good thing?
“You’re right,” she said, finally. “I’m very good in the kitchen. In fact, my pumpkin strudel pie is to die for.”
“I’d like to try it sometime.”
Betsy merely smiled and took another sip of her cappuccino. “What are you doing for the holiday?”
“My plans are up in the air.” In fact he’d deliberately turned down Cole and Meg’s invitation as well as a Thanksgiving invite from Travis and Mary Karen Fisher. All because he wanted to be available should this conversation go the way he’d hoped. “Betsy, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her dusty blue eyes met his. For a second, all he could think of was how pretty she looked in her pink fluffy sweater. And how her lips looked like plump ripe strawberries. Ryan shook his head to clear the thoughts.
“You’re scaring me.” Two lines of worry furrowed her brow. “Is it something with my work? If I’m doing anything wrong, just tell me and I’ll correct it.”
“It’s nothing work-related.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “You’re doing an awesome job. In fact, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She expelled a breath. “Good.”
“This is something personal.”
Her fingers stilled on the large cup sitting in front of her. “Really?”
While Betsy hadn’t given him permission to stray into the personal realm, she hadn’t shut the door either. Ryan decided to plunge through the slight opening he’d been given. “I’ve never had any trouble getting dates. Or talking to women. But when the woman is special to you and she doesn’t know she is, finding the right words can be hard.”
Betsy simply stared.
“Do you know what it’s like to want someone but not be sure if they want you?”
Her eyes never left his face. She nodded slowly.
“To wonder if they only think of you as a friend or if their feelings run as deep as yours but they’re afraid to say anything for fear of looking foolish?”
“I—” Betsy cleared her throat before continuing “—I can relate.”
“Can you?” Ryan reached forward and took her hands. “It’s difficult having such intense feelings but having to keep them hidden.”
“A person shouldn’t keep feelings like that under wraps.” Her voice shook with emotion. “You should always say what you feel.”
“Even if I’m not sure the other person feels the same way?”
“How do you know unless you ask?” Two bright spots of pink dotted her cheeks.
Ryan wondered if she’d guessed his secret. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m going to just blurt it out.”
He realized with a start that he was still clutching Betsy’s hands as if he were a drowning sailor and they were a life raft. But when he started to pull away, she tightened her hold.
“Tell me, Ryan,” she urged. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m in love with Adrianna Lee, but I’m not sure how she feels about me.”
A shutter fell across Betsy’s eyes. Even when she blinked the shutters remained firmly closed, hiding her thoughts, her reaction from his view. She released his hands and sat back, which he took to be a very bad sign.
“You and Adrianna?” Betsy stumbled over the name. “I thought that you, that we—”
She clamped her mouth shut.
Ryan tilted his head. “Did you think I was talking about you and me?”
Was that pity in his eyes?
Betsy’s heart fluttered like a thousand tiny hummingbirds in her chest. Dear God, this was her worst nightmare come to life. Somehow she had to find a way to salvage this situation. And while she was doing that, save her pride.
“You and me?” She somehow managed a respectable-sounding laugh. “Pssh. We’re just friends.”
By the look in his eyes, Betsy knew she hadn’t quite allayed his suspicions. How uncomfortable would it be for them to work in the same office day after day if he thought she was pining over him? She had to make him think there was someone else. But who? They knew most of the same people.
“Actually, as long as we’re sharing confessions, I have my own secret crush. That’s why I could so easily relate to what you were saying.”
The muscles in his shoulders relaxed and the suspicion that had colored his gaze all but disappeared. “Who is he?”
If she refused to tell him, he’d think she was lying. But she couldn’t pick anyone currently living in Jackson Hole. That would be way too uncomfortable. And she wouldn’t put it past Ryan to spill the beans.
Think, she told herself, think of a name.
“Tripp Randall.”
“The Tripp Randall who used to live here?”
“He lives back East now.” Betsy relaxed against the chair, feeling comfortable enough to take a sip of her now-lukewarm drink. “He was married, but—”
“His wife died.”
At first Betsy was surprised. How did he know that Tripp’s wife had passed away? Then she reminded herself that this was Jackson Hole. It was hard to keep any kind of secret in this town.
“Even though he’s now single, I don’t think there’s any chance of our getting together,” Betsy said. “I mean, he’s in Connecticut and I’m here.”
“Not for much longer.”
“What do you mean? I don’t have any plans to move.”
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“I just got a call from him this morning,” Ryan said. “Tripp is moving back to Jackson Hole.”
Chapter Five
Betsy dressed for work the next morning, still thinking about her conversation with Ryan in the coffee shop.
She hadn’t known what to say when he announced he was in love with Adrianna. It made perfect sense. Heck, if she was a guy she’d pick Adrianna, too. The woman was smart and beautiful. And she had a kind heart.
His announcement had shaken Betsy to the core. Even though she’d never admit this to anyone, there had been a few wonderful seconds where she’d been convinced he was going to declare his love for her. When he said her friend’s name instead, she’d wanted to cry. But she hadn’t. She’d kept her pride.
So what if he now thought she was interested in a man she could barely remember? There were worse things, such as his knowing her true feelings.
No, it hadn’t been a good day. But if she hadn’t thought quickly, it could have been so much worse.
By the time she arrived at work she had her emotions firmly under control. Only eight hours to get through and then she’d have four days away from Ryan. Four days to lick her wounds. Four days to figure out how she was going to deal with working for a man she loved who had the hots for her best friend.
Ryan was in court all morning. Adrianna had asked Betsy to meet her for lunch. Although she didn’t like lying to her friend, her emotions were too raw and she made up an excuse about having too much work to do.
Actually it wasn’t far from the truth. She was hoping to be able to get her tasks done so she could leave early and minimize the time spent with Ryan.
The clock had just chimed one when Ryan appeared. Betsy smiled and said hello as he walked through the back door, knowing it would have looked odd to do anything else. Then she immediately returned her attention to the papers on her desk, hoping he’d go straight into his adjoining office and shut the door.
Instead he crossed the room and stood by her desk giving her no choice but to look up. “Is there something you need?”
He shifted from one foot to the other. “About our conversation yesterday—”
“All forgotten.” She spoke quickly before he could continue.
Ryan dropped into the chair next to her desk. The spicy scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. “I did a lot of thinking last night.”
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