Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (7 page)

“You are an angel in disguise, helping out this poor young widow and her children.” Rosemary turned to Hannah and touched her shoulder. “That will be a real support to you, and that way your mother doesn't have to worry herself about not being able to help you out. I'm sure that will be a huge load off her shoulders. I know my Wes feels so much better knowing that I'm keeping the store going while he recuperates from his surgery. This is a fantastic idea.” Then she trundled off, looking as satisfied as if she had personally volunteered to help Hannah out.

Brody felt his heart sink. Bad enough he was on the Time Capsule Committee with Hannah, he didn't know how he was going to handle seeing her every day at his own home. Being reminded every day of how improbable it was for him to be a part of her life.

“I'm sorry I can't stay,” her father was saying. “I've got to go back to help your mother. I won't be able to help you with the twins during the service, but I'm so thankful that Mrs. Harcourt can.” He gave Brody's mother a tight nod, then turned back to Hannah. “Your mother will be so relieved to know that.”

Hannah bit her lip and Brody could see she was torn.

“And we'll lend a hand this morning,” his mother said.

“I'm not sure how it will go.” Hannah held Chrissy close. “I haven't been able to attend an entire service since the twins were born.”

Her comment tore at Brody's soul. He knew how much he needed church. He also knew that she didn't attend much. He had mistakenly assumed it was because she didn't want to. That she couldn't hadn't crossed his mind.

“I think between you, me and my parents, we can figure something out,” Brody said.

She looked over at him and he could see the tension in her shoulders ease. “That would be nice” was all she said.

And as they all walked into church together, Brody felt as if his life was shifting into a different place.

Did he dare go there?

Chapter Five

“S
o, it must have been nice to be in church again yesterday,” Julie said, following Hannah to one of the picnic tables set up by the concession booth of the fairgrounds.

“It was really nice,” Hannah replied as she unrolled her main plan for the fairgrounds, anchoring it with her purse on one side, her cell phone on the other. “And now Mrs. Harcourt is taking care of the kids.”

Hannah shot a quick glance at her phone, wondering if she should text Brody's mother and see how the kids were doing. Mrs. Harcourt had sent her a couple of texts and pictures this morning to let her know the kids were fine.

But the last one had come more than a couple of hours ago and Hannah wondered how Brody's mom was coping.

“And sitting with the Harcourts in church? How did that happen?”

“They offered their help,” Hannah said, Julie's teasing tone pulling her attention away from the phone. “Dad had to go home to take care of Mom, so I accepted. Simple as that.”

However, it wasn't simple as that once she sat down in the pew beside Brody. Too easily she recalled how she'd felt sitting beside him in church. How he had held the songbook open for her as she held Chrissy. David would do that for her, and as she followed along, standing beside Brody, holding David's child, Hannah had felt a mixture of sorrow and guilt. She knew she was becoming attracted to Brody, but she wasn't sure what to make of her changing feelings.

“So. How do you think we lay this out?” Hannah asked, changing the topic. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked from the plans laid in front of her to the fairgrounds, which suddenly seemed too small for everything they needed to put there.

This morning, Mayor Shaw had asked her to pace out the layout of the booths and make sure there was enough space at the fairgrounds. Hannah had sent out a desperate appeal to her friend Julie for her help. Thankfully, Julie managed to rope in her fiancé, Ryan, who, with Julie's brother Cord, was now measuring out the potential layout of the booths and the midway.

“According to the midway people, they'll need at least half of the available space,” Hannah continued, looking from the plans to grounds edged by the river on one side and, on the other, a grove of cottonwoods with a number of old buildings left over from one of the earlier settlers who had sold out to the town years ago.

“I sure wish those old Shoemaker barns were gone. That would give us space,” Julie said.

“Trust me, if we try to do something about them, Lilibeth might complain about it being a historical site. That was her grandparents' old place, after all, and she's still fussing about not being chosen Miss Jasper Gulch. So we'll have to work with the space we've got.”

“So start turning people down for booths. No sense in making yourself crazy and cramming everyone in. I know I want people to be able to walk around my booth and see all my wool and knitted goods. If you put too many side by side it will be too cramped.”

Julie had been one of the first people to book a booth for her wool business. Hannah and her children had been the happy recipients of many colorful hand-knit sweaters made from wool Julie had sheared from her own sheep.

“I'll have to. Besides, we're getting down to the wire.”

Julie tapped her pencil against her chin as she scanned Hannah's master plan. “We could cut some down. How about the firefighters? Since when do they need two booths?”

“Brody asked for two so they could have room to park their truck behind it for the kids. I thought it was a great idea. Besides, they're volunteers who put their lives on the line. I don't want to deny them what they asked for.”

“Of course. Sure.” Julie gave her a baffled look, which made Hannah realize how defensive she sounded. “I just thought if we need more room, that was a place to start.”

Hannah didn't reply, realizing that her reaction to Julie's suggestion was a mixture of the confusion she felt around Brody and the tension she'd been feeling all morning. When Mrs. Harcourt had come this morning to pick up the children, Brody had come, as well. Seeing him holding Chrissy, looking so at ease with the twins, had created a blend of melancholy and a curious sense of appeal that had only been kindled by sitting beside him in church yesterday.

Melancholy for the fact that David hadn't even known about his children and would never see them.

Appeal for the man that had, of late, been slowly taking up more and more of her mental space. And she wasn't sure how to feel about the mixture of emotions she felt each time she saw him.

She shot another look at her phone. In half an hour she had to leave to pick up the kids.

And see Brody again.

“That's the fourth time you've done that in the past half hour,” Julie said, nudging her friend with an elbow and faking a look of hurt. “I'm starting to think you don't want to be here. You in a hurry to get home?”

“I'm feeling a bit stressed about the kids. I know they're fine. It's just, it feels like they're so far away. I'm used to knowing I can just pop across the street if I needed to.”

“Harcourt ranch isn't that far out of town. But, hey, if it will make you feel better to see them, just go. I can cover for you here.”

“But your dad wanted to see the layout this afternoon.”

No sooner had she spoken than a truck pulled into the parking lot and Jackson Shaw got out. He was frowning as he strode toward Hannah and Julie.

“How are things coming?” he asked as he came up beside them, glancing from where Ryan and his son Cord were working to Julie and Hannah. “Is this going to come together? Will you have enough room?”

“Everything is fine, Dad,” Julie said, giving him a quick smile. “Ryan is being a real help.”

“Did you and Harcourt have a chance to talk to Lilibeth yet?” Jackson asked Hannah. “About the time capsule?”

“We were supposed to meet her, but she didn't show.”

“That sounds suspicious,” Mayor Shaw said. “Maybe I should go have a talk with her.”

Julie laid her hand on her father's arm. “You're busy enough, Dad. Let the committee take care of it.”

“We need to get this resolved.”

“Of course we do,” Hannah assured him. “I'll talk to Brody next time I see him about meeting with Lilibeth again.” Hannah fought down a beat of panic as she thought of all the things that needed to be done before the fair began. And now her mother was sick and somehow she had to find the time to see her, as well.

Just then Cord and Ryan joined them, holding out a piece of paper with a number of figures written down. “As long as nothing changes and you don't get more booths, you'll have enough space,” Cord said.

Hannah was about to take it from him, when Julie intercepted. “Me and the guys will lay this all out.”

“But you need to make sure—”

“We've got it,” Julie said, waving her off. “Now go and get your kids.”

Hannah glanced at Mayor Shaw, who was technically her boss, but he was talking to Cord and Ryan, all three of them now bent over the master plan Hannah had drawn up.

“Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow,” she said, then turned and hurried to her car.

The tension of the day seemed to pile on her as she headed up Shaw Boulevard and then out toward the Harcourt ranch. All the way there she tried not to speed. Tried not to let the worry that had hung at the back of her mind make her rush. In spite of the texts and the constant assurance that the kids were fine, Hannah had felt a curious vulnerability over the children and being so far from them.

Hannah slowed as she approached the entrance to the ranch, then drove up the driveway.

The first thing she saw was a grouping of buildings made up of a large barn, hay sheds and, situated against a line of trees, a log house with a veranda that overlooked the valley sweeping away from the ranch toward the mountains beyond.

A truck was parked in front of the house. Mrs. Harcourt had come with an SUV, but Hannah couldn't see it.

Don't panic,
she told herself as she slowed, still following the driveway that went past the house and over a hill.

She crested the hill and then saw what she suspected was the main house, Gina's SUV parked in the driveway in front of it. The house was finished with stucco and brick, creating a look of warmth and elegance at the same time. As she drove closer, she noticed the flower beds tucked up against the house and along the edge of a brick path leading to a large wooden door framed by sidelights and an arched window above the door. The door had bay windows on each side. Beyond the house the land seemed to drop away into a valley guarded by the mountains.

She parked her car and slowly got out, suddenly feeling somewhat intimidated by the beautiful home, trying to imagine her children riding roughshod through a home even more elegant than her in-laws'.

She unzipped her purse and was about to pull out a tube of lipstick to freshen up, when a brown-and-white dog came gamboling around the back of the house, plumed tail wagging, tongue hanging out, pointy ears perked up as it barked a welcome. It danced around her and she laughed. “You look like Cowboy Dan,” she said, thinking of her friend Julie's Australian shepherd dog. She reached down and petted it, then straightened, finger combed her hair and walked up the brick path to the house.

She knocked on the door once.

Inside she heard squealing and laughter, which made her even more apprehensive. It sounded as if the kids were back in fine form. Then the squealing came closer and the door opened revealing Brody, hair mussed, laughing, Chrissy on his hip and Corey clinging to his leg, tugging on the tails of a shirt that had come free of Brody's blue jeans.

“Hey, there,” he said, still grinning as he stepped aside to let Hannah in. “I was just helping Mom out.”

“By making the kids crazy wild,” Mrs. Harcourt said, joining them in the entrance of the home.

Hannah tried to keep her attention on the twins, but was having a hard time not being distracted by the beautiful house and how it was finished. The floor of the foyer was tiled with cream-colored marble. Ahead of her was an expanse of walnut doors that, she suspected, covered closets for hanging up coats. She glanced through the etched-glass partition and caught a glimpse of walnut cabinetry, brown-speckled granite countertops and slate flooring.

Very beautiful. Very chic. Not a typical rancher home at all. What had she done, letting Mrs. Harcourt take care of her rowdy and messy kids?

But then the older woman came into the foyer. She was barefoot, wearing faded old jeans and no makeup, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, and looking as casual as she had when she first picked the children up. Hannah relaxed.

“Mama,” Chrissy said, leaning toward her, her lips stained red and a smear of what looked like yogurt on her cheeks.

“Just wait, honey,” Brody's mom said, pulling a cloth out of her pocket and giving Chrissy's cheeks a quick swipe. “Sorry about that,” she said to Hannah as Chrissy fought Mrs. Harcourt, then reached for Hannah again. “I was feeding them a snack when Brody came in and started roughhousing.”

“Sure. Blame it on me,” Brody said, bending over to pick up Corey, who was still clinging to his leg. “Dad was the one who was making them goofy.”

Mr. Harcourt made an appearance behind his wife, resting his hands on her shoulders, smiling at Hannah. Winston Harcourt had brown eyes and silver hair the same shade as his beard and mustache, giving him a kindly, friendly look. He wore blue jeans and a denim shirt that had the worn and faded look of a favorite item of clothing. “Welcome to our humble home,” he said. “And in my defense, I was just trying to get Corey to eat his yogurt.”

“Corey never eats yogurt,” Hannah said in surprise.

“Apparently he does if you make horse noises,” Mrs. Harcourt said, laughing.

“Not something I'm very good at, I'm afraid,” Hannah returned.

“It's my specialty,” Mr. Harcourt said, pretending to snap nonexistent suspenders. “I was going to take my act on the road, but there wasn't much money in it.”

Hannah chuckled at that and then heard a timer go off in the kitchen. Her cue to go.

“Thank you so much for taking care of the children. Let me know how much I owe you,” she said.

She heard a dramatic gasp from Brody and looked over in time to see him holding one hand on his chest as he dragged in a noisy breath, his other hand stretched out as if seeking support.

“Are you okay?” she asked, feeling a beat of concern.

He relaxed his pose and shot a grin at his mother, who was just shaking her head. “You just crossed a serious line,” he said.

“What? How?” Hannah's concern grew full-fledged.

“You never, ever offer to pay my mother for anything,” Brody said in mock horror. “She gets all squirrelly and flustered and then she gets angry. And you don't want to unleash the beast.”

Mrs. Harcourt released a long-suffering sigh. “Just ignore him,” she said. “There's no beast unleashing going on here. But I don't want you to pay me. I offered to take care of your children because I wanted to help you out.” She gave Corey, who was now sitting on the floor tugging at his shoes, an affectionate look. “It was entirely my pleasure.”

“In fact, Gina probably thinks she should pay you for taking care of your children,” Winston said.

“Yeah. Like rent,” Brody put in.

Hannah laughed at that, surprised how at ease she felt with people she barely knew. Surprised at how relaxed Brody was. Their house might be like a show home but they seemed like down-to-earth folk.

Mrs. Harcourt looked back at her husband. “Can you take the casserole out of the oven?”

“That's not my specialty,” he said.

“I have faith in you,” she said, giving him a gentle push. Then she turned back to Hannah. “So of course you are staying for supper?”