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Authors: Suzie O'Connell

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BOOK: Once Burned
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Not perfect
, Lindsay thought, hugging herself. No matter how hard she tried to erase them, faint reminders of her pregnancy remained, and more than one man had been put off by them. Abruptly, she said, “I need to call my parents and Noah.”

“There’s a phone beside the bed in the loft.”

Nodding in thanks, Lindsay hauled her suitcases upstairs. As her friend had said, the queen-sized bed was shielded from view by a pair of tri-fold screens. The bed itself was adorned with what appeared to be a handmade heirloom quilt of bold blue, green, red, brown, and tan in a pattern that invoked thoughts of a rustic mountain cabin. She settled her suitcases on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed and made her way around to the log nightstand where the phone sat beneath a wrought-iron lamp with a moose-print lampshade. After a moment’s hesitation, Lindsay picked up the phone and dialed her parents’ number.

“Hello?” her mother asked after the second ring.

“Hi, Mama,” Lindsay greeted. “I’m in Northstar, safe and sound. And I dozed a bit on the plane and slept the whole way from Butte to Northstar, so I might be of some use for the rehearsal this afternoon.”

“Honey, I wish you would have given yourself a full two weeks off.”

“I can’t afford it, Mama. I can’t really afford ten days.”

“Your father and I could’ve helped out.”

“I don’t want you to have to help me out.”

“I know that, sweetheart. I just wish…. Well, you know what I wish.”

That Max would put as much effort into taking care of his son as he did in making him
, Lindsay thought with a sneer. She had no need to say it out loud; this was a conversation she and her parents had on a regular basis. Her parents wanted Max to step up and willingly do his part for Noah, but Lindsay believed that she and Noah would be better off—emotionally, at least—if Max would just do what he obviously wanted and step out of their lives. The constant pull on Noah couldn’t be healthy, and the never-ending strain Lindsay felt was bound to make her old before her years.

“Anyhow… we’d like to take Noah school clothes shopping while you’re in Montana,” her mother continued.

“I can’t afford to buy him clothes right now, Mama.” Thankfully, Lindsay was able to restrain her growl of frustration, and it came out as a subdued sigh. She would have been able to take Noah shopping sooner if she hadn’t agreed to Evie’s request that she stay in Montana for the nine days until the newlyweds left on their honeymoon. It was difficult to swallow the guilt even though she knew she needed the time off—something she hadn’t taken in over two years.

“I said
we
would take him, Lindsay. And don’t you dare offer to pay us back. He’s our grandson, and you don’t let us spoil him nearly enough.”

“Max does a pretty damned fine job of spoiling him,” Lindsay muttered.

“Different kind of spoiling, dearest. This is the good kind. Anyhow, here’s your son.”

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Noah said sullenly, “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, baby.”

“Please don’t call me that. I haven’t been a baby for a long time.”

“I know that, but you’ll always be my baby just like I’ll always be your grandma’s baby.”

“Dad says that’s stupid girly talk.”

“I really don’t care what your father thinks, Noah, and you’d better put that attitude in check right now, young man.”

“But I wanted to go to Montana with you,” Noah whined.

“Back that up. I had your plane ticket
bought and paid for
, and you threw a fit about not wanting to come because you didn’t want to be stuck having to go to a wedding and do all the ‘stupid girly stuff.’ So I cancelled your ticket and lost fifty dollars on it. Remember that?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You made your choice to stay with Grandma and Grandpa, so you can’t blame anyone but yourself.” Lindsay sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I love you dearly, but every time you come back from your father’s, you become this… obstinate, rude little boy I don’t recognize.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do, but I’m not going to run up Evie’s phone bill arguing with you about it. Find a way to get back to being my sweet, polite young man again. Please.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Did you sleep all right last night?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Noah paused, then added more cordially, “It was nice not having to share a room with Spencer. How come we have to live with him and his mom, anyhow? He’s such a butthead.”

“You know why.”

“Yeah. We’re too broke to afford our own house. But we’re not too broke for you to go to Montana for a week and a half, are we?”

“Noah Steven Ulrich!” Lindsay barked. She heard her mother utter the exact same on the other end of the line.

“That was an incredibly rude thing to say to your mother!” Debbie Miller snapped. “Give me that phone and get your backside to your room
right
now!”

A moment later, Lindsay’s mother apologized for her grandson’s behavior.

“He’s right,” Lindsay replied, her voice catching on the lump in her throat. She swore under her breath and wiped furiously at her eyes to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

“No, he’s not. Your best friend is getting married tomorrow, and Evie deserves to have you at her wedding.”

“It won’t take nine days for me to see her married. That’s a lot of money I’m not at work to make.”

“Maybe so, but Evie asked you to stay that long because she doesn’t get to see you much now that she’s living in Montana. Besides, even if you worked every single one of those days, it wouldn’t be enough for you to move into a place where Noah could have his own room, so he’ll just have to get over it.”

Lindsay sniffed and tried to subdue the pounding guilt, but it was a difficult meal to swallow.

“Not to add any more to your plate, but Noah told me today that Peewee football is starting up soon, and he’d like to play again this year.”

“Crap, I’d forgotten. I need to ask Max to help with equipment because none of it from last year is going to fit.” This time, Lindsay let the growl out. Max had been less than thrilled that Noah wanted to play football last year and had gone so far as to blame Lindsay’s “obsession” with the sport for Noah’s desire to play it.

“Maybe you should call him right now. Otherwise you’ll find an excuse not to ask.”

Sighing, Lindsay admitted that her mother was right. “I’ll call him right now.”

“You do that, honey. Get it out of the way, and then maybe you’ll be able to enjoy your trip. I love you, baby.”

Lindsay could hear the wink in her mother’s playful tone and smiled despite the torrent of despair. “I love you, too, Mama. When Dad gets off work, tell him I love him, too.”

After she hung up the phone, she allowed herself a few moments to regain her composure before she dialed her ex’s number. Several deep breaths were evidently not enough to quell the anxiety, but she made the call anyway.
Just get it over with
, she told herself.

“Hello?”

She flinched at the sound of his voice with the familiar jolt of loathing and longing. “It’s Lindsay.”

“Where the hell are you calling from? Four-oh-six?”

“Montana. Evie is getting married tomorrow.”

“And she’s in Montana?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t say as I’m surprised the little pudgeball had to move all the way to Montana to find herself some blind cow’s ass to take pity on her.”

Lindsay’s hand twitched. If he had been standing in the same room instead of four hundred miles away, she would have punched him for that. “I see you’re still pissed that she called you an insufferable ass, but I guess the truth hurts.”

“I presume you didn’t call me to exchange pleasantries, so just put Noah on the phone already.”

“He’s not here.”

“What do you mean he’s not there?”

“He didn’t want to come, so he’s staying with my parents.”

Silence met her response, and Lindsay had plenty of time to ponder the accusations he’d surely make.

“Why wasn’t I consulted about this?”

“I didn’t
consult
you because I had to beg you to take him for a week not so long ago—perhaps you conveniently forgot that—and then you couldn’t send him back to me fast enough.”

“It was a bad time. I had all those city planning meetings—”

“Bullshit. It’s
always
a bad time, Max. You just don’t want to be troubled with the reminder that you, Mr. Perfect, screwed up once upon a time. Say what you want about me, but at least I’ve shouldered the responsibility of raising
our
son without bitching about every little
inconvenience
.” Lindsay drew a deep breath and plunged ahead without giving Max time to form a rebuttal. “And since we’re on the topic of responsibility, Noah needs new clothes and football equipment because he’s outgrowing everything. Do you think you can help out without turning it into a battle like you always do?”

“You know how I feel about him playing football, Lindsay.”

“He asked to play.”

“And I suppose you won’t talk him out of it, either.”

“No, I won’t. He enjoys playing, and he’s good at it, too.”

“What if I refuse to help pay for it?”

“Then I’ll find a way to pay for it myself.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? What if he gets hurt, Lindsay?”

“Oh, quit pretending like you actually give a shit about Noah,” Lindsay snarled. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding rehearsal to get to.”

She slammed the receiver down on the base and jumped to her feet, then paced the length of the bed for almost a minute as she fought to regain control of her emotions. Max had a singular talent for infuriating her, but right now, she had to put on her happy face—the one she had perfected waiting tables and could affect without giving anyone around her a clue to the turmoil beneath it.

Opening her suitcase, she pulled out a lavender sundress with a hem that was a perfect balance between flirty and innocent. She took out her makeup case and hairbrush and stepped over to the small mirror beside the window. After applying minimal eye makeup and lip gloss—forgoing the more elaborate makeup she used for work—she ran her brush through her long, deep red hair and decided to pull half of it back to keep it out of her face for the day’s activities. She changed out of her travel-wrinkled jeans and tank top into the soft dress and pronounced herself presentable for the informal rehearsal.

“All right, Evie,” she called as she descended the stairs. “I’m ready to see this gown of yours.”

Evie appeared through the door to the master suite still dressed in her jeans and T-shirt. “Come on in. I’ve laid it and your dress out on the bed.”

It wasn’t difficult to make the appropriate compliments about the bride’s dress; with its cascade of red silk roses, the gown was beautiful as were Lindsay’s and Skye’s bridesmaids dresses. The red, mercifully, was on the blue side and would compliment rather than clash with Lindsay’s auburn hair, but she teased Evie regardless, hoping the display of humor would effectively hide her agitation.

“You’ll have to wait until later to try yours on,” Evie said. “It’s almost time to head over to the main ranch house for the rehearsal.”

“Fine by me,” Lindsay replied. “I’m sure it’ll fit perfectly.”

Almost on cue, Skye strode into the room with her camera bag over her shoulder. “You ladies ready for this?”

“Yep. Let’s get this thing done so we don’t screw up the real deal tomorrow,” Lindsay replied.

If Evie noticed anything strange in her friend’s choice of words, she gave no sign. Skye, on the other hand, had always been the more intuitive and regarded Lindsay with a quizzical frown. At Lindsay’s subtle headshake, Skye nodded and kept any comments or questions to herself.

They piled in Evie’s SUV and headed over to the main ranch house, which was a sprawling, two-story affair laid out much like Evie’s place but at least twice the size. As Lindsay listened to the plans for tomorrow—how, where, and when everyone would be getting ready—she watched Skye practice her craft and chastised herself for the spark of jealousy that her best friend had been free to pursue her dreams while Lindsay had been forced to set hers aside.

“How is this going to work? You being the maid of honor
and
the photographer?” Lindsay asked to distract herself.

“Evie found me an assistant—a college kid. She promises me he’s good.” Skye shrugged.

They walked through the ceremony a few times, and all the while, Lindsay managed to keep her smile in place and make friendly small talk, but irritation continued to gnaw at her. She suspected it would come bursting out of her at some point and prayed she could contain it at least until she was alone tonight with Skye and Evie after the rehearsal dinner. Why did she still let Max do this to her? And why, oh why, after he’d spent years making it perfectly clear that he had long ago lost all interest in her, did her heart still jump when she heard his voice or saw him?

 

Chapter Two

 

HENRY WAS A COWARD. There was no other explanation for why he was pulling up in front of his house in Northstar when the sun slumped so close to the crests of the western ridges. If he had left when he’d planned to, he would have arrived home four hours ago, but he’d found one excuse after another to delay his departure.

He knew his parents and brothers loved him and would offer sympathy, but he’d always felt like he wasn’t quite understood, that his disinclination to stay in Northstar to help run the family ranch and his pursuit of a welding career in a big city made him a bit of an outsider. Looking back, his relationship with Melanie had intensified that feeling. His parents had treated Melanie kindly enough, but Henry sensed that there was something about her they didn’t approve of. Until recently, he hadn’t a clue what that might be, especially considering how deeply in love they’d fallen with Dylan from the moment of his birth. He had wondered, since they adored the mothers of their other two grandchildren, why they couldn’t seem to warm to Melanie.

“They didn’t trust her,” Henry observed as he stared out his windshield at the Northstar Mountains. “And I understand all too well why now.”

He climbed out of his truck and grabbed the first two of his bags off the passenger seat. With tired, defeated steps, he climbed the stairs to the covered front deck of his single-story house and unlocked the door before pushing it open with his foot. He dropped the bags just inside and returned to his truck for more. Without his furniture, which he’d left behind because his house here was fully furnished, all of his belongings fit easily in the bed of his pickup, and it took him less than twenty minutes to unload everything and stash it temporarily in the spare bedroom.

When everything was unloaded, Henry stood in the living room and glanced around his house. It had been his since he’d turned twenty-one—ten years now—but he hadn’t spent much time in it. It was the ranch foreman’s house in times when that position wasn’t filled by a member of the family—currently Henry’s older brother, Nick, held that title—and with two bedrooms and a single bathroom, it was on the small side. The living room, dining room, and kitchen formed an open L, and large, south-facing windows flanked the front door and let in plenty of light, which did a lot to make the place feel bigger. Surrounded by wide-open spaces, Henry had no need and no desire for a big house, which made this one a perfect fit. At any rate, it felt more like home than any place he’d lived besides the main ranch house.

“All right,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “Now what?”

First, he needed to call his parents to let them know he was home. His mother was probably getting worried by now, so he grabbed the cordless off the kitchen counter. After he called his folks, he needed to call his twin brother. It was his first night back in Northstar, so by tradition, he was supposed to have a drink with Aaron at the Bedspread, but he really wasn’t up to seeing his twin… or being social at all, for that matter. Aaron would be disappointed, but he’d just have to get over it.

He briefly debated whom to call first and punched in his parents’ number.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it,” his mother said.

“Sorry, Mom. I got a late start.”

“That’s all right, honey. I’m just glad you’re home.”

“Me, too.”

“When do I get to see you and that darling grandson of mine?”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, but Dylan and Melanie didn’t come.”

“Oh? Are you and Mel on the outs again?”

He winced. He should tell her right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Yeah, we are,” he said instead.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She offered no other comments and asked no questions, but the tone of her voice said plainly enough that she had noted something amiss in his voice.

“I love you, Mom,” Henry said, trying to assure her that he would be all right.

“I love you, too, Henry. I’ll see you tomorrow, and you can tell me about it then… or whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Next, he called Aaron.

“You ready to go get that beer?” his twin asked by way of greeting. “Jessie’s down at Mom and Dad’s, so I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to have to take a rain check. Sorry, bro,” Henry replied. “I’m wiped, so I’m just going to take a shower and hit the sack.”

“No problem, Hen. I’ll see you tomorrow morning? We’re supposed to help set up for Vince’s wedding.”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“All right. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Henry ended the call and set the cordless back in its cradle feeling more than a little guilty because a beer sounded very good right then. He was probably a terrible sibling for ditching his twin, but he took a quick shower and headed up to the Bedspread Inn.

* * *

By the time Lindsay sat down at a table beside the big windows in the restaurant of the Bedspread Inn, she wasn’t sure she was going to make it back to Evie’s house before she either broke something or started crying. Her smile had become too much to maintain, and she stared out the windows at the Northstar Mountains awash in golden evening sunlight, drumming her fingers on the table while she waited for her meal. The food arrived, and it looked and smelled delicious, but she was no longer hungry and pushed the ravioli around on her plate.

“Are you all right?” Skye whispered.

“I’m fine,” Lindsay replied—unconvincingly, she knew. She tried again, but only managed to say, “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been pretty tense since we left Evie’s. So, what’s going on?”

Lindsay debated telling Skye and decided it might be a good idea to vent a little. “Noah’s mad at me because I didn’t force him to come with me and because he has to share a room with Spencer, and then I called Max to ask for help with football gear. You can imagine how
that
went.”

She tried to stop the words but couldn’t. They tumbled out, and she ended up repeating the entire conversation to Skye. By the end of it, Evie was leaning in, listening intently.

“It’s not like I
wanted
to get pregnant in high school or go into labor a couple hours after we graduated, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be a single parent who is so broke she can’t afford her own place, who had to set aside every dream she ever had to raise her son as best she can—which is apparently
not
good enough.”

“And you certainly didn’t ask to be stuck with a self-centered asshole of an ex, either,” Skye said gently.

Lindsay drew a deep breath and glanced at the rest of their party, but no one else seemed to be aware of the conversation at the bride’s end of the table, so she exhaled slowly.

“No, I didn’t,” she said.

“Look at it this way, Linds,” Skye remarked. “At least you were smarter than me because you didn’t marry your asshole ex.”

“Given the chance, though, I
would have
. I might have begged him to marry me if I’d thought there was any chance…. But he didn’t want us.”

Skye shook her head. “No, you
never
would have begged. You have too much pride and self-respect for that.”

Evie sat up suddenly and asked, “When was the last time you went on a date?”

“You know when,” Lindsay replied.

“You’re telling me you haven’t been on a date since that last one with Logan?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Evie.”
It turned into such a disaster that I haven’t recovered the courage to try again
. Thinking about the only other man she’d been with long enough to earn the designation of “ex” wasn’t going to put her in any better mood than would dwelling on her ongoing issues with Max.

“I think we need to send you on a date while you’re here,” Evie said brightly, oblivious of her friend’s inner turmoil. “You don’t have Noah here to worry about and all the time in the world to yourself.”

Before Lindsay could respond, the bell on the dining room’s door jingled and in strolled one of those attractive Northstar men Evie had mentioned not less than a dozen times today. Clad in Wrangler jeans that hugged long legs and narrow hips, a fitted white T-shirt that accentuated strong arms, shoulders, and chest, and a pair of dusty work boots, he looked every bit the quintessential Montana cowboy even without the trademark hat. His mouth was set in a firm line, and his blue eyes were stern. Or were they agonized? When their gazes briefly met, Lindsay decided it was the latter, and her heart stumbled over itself, smitten and concerned all at once.

What’s wrong, cutie pie?
she wondered as the thought of a one night stand returned with sudden and breathtaking appeal.

As he strode past their table on his way to the bar at the back of the room, she turned in her chair to enjoy the view and thought of the photo of six cowboys sitting on the log rail of a corral Evie had emailed shortly after she met Vince.
Cowboy butts drive me nuts
, she had captioned it
.

Just before the stranger settled on a bar stool, he glanced back at Lindsay, and her pulse quickened.
The rest of him might drive me nuts, too,
she mused, absently poking at the ice in her glass of Coke with her straw.

“Well, what do you think?” Evie asked, apparently taking Lindsay’s lack of response to mean she was considering the matter of a date.

“Let’s get you married off before we start trying to fix me.”

Lindsay covertly studied the stranger, though he did not again glance her way—at least, not while she was looking. He sat hunched over his beer with his fingers knitted around the bottle and talked quietly to the tall man behind the bar whose expression spoke of a deep conversation rather than a light-hearted chat. She had the questionable urge to join the blond cowboy for a drink or three—one unhappy soul commiserating with another. Considering Evie’s recent comments, she didn’t think her friend would mind too much if she missed a bit of their girls’ night in, so when everyone in their party stood to leave, she excused herself from the group.

“Where are you going?” Evie asked. “I thought we were—”

“I want a drink,” Lindsay replied. “And I promise to be better company when I get home.”

“Do you want us to stay with you? I don’t drink, but I—”

“No. You don’t want to be around me right now, Evie, and I don’t want to be the thundercloud to rain on the eve of your wedding, so I’ll just stay here for a bit, have a drink or two, and clear my head a bit before I rejoin you, all right? Then I’ll be home, and you, Skye, and I can have a laughing good time like we always do.”

“All right…. If you’re sure.”

“Let’s leave her be for a bit, all right, Evie?” Skye said, gently guiding the bride toward the door. Before she followed their friend outside, she turned to Lindsay and added, “I know Evie’s house is just up the road from here and plenty close enough for you to walk, but call if you want a ride.”

“Thanks, Skye. Not just for that, but for—”

“I get it, Linds. I’ve had my share of moments recently when I just wanted to be alone.” She glanced toward the bar, then back at Lindsay. “Or not so alone.”

Without a word, Skye left, and Lindsay made her way toward the bar. She doubted she’d act on the flash-fire impulses the stranger had unknowingly triggered, but it was refreshing to consider the possibilities. Evie
was
right that she needed to treat herself to a date if only to remind herself that she was more than Noah’s mother, more than Max’s unwanted ex-girlfriend.

She hesitated, catching snippets of the quiet conversation between the cowboy and the bar tender. What she heard made her heart ache, so she slid onto the barstool beside the man centered so pervasively at the forefront of her attention and smiled warmly when he turned toward her. Maybe she could find a way to cheer them both up.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked. “Because I’d like to join you for a drink, if that’s all right.”

He hesitated a moment, adding further evidence that he was here for some serious drinking and not a quick beer after work, and she thought he might decline her proposition. Instead, he extended his hand. “I don’t mind at all if you join me, but I’m not likely to be the best company tonight.”

“So I gathered,” she replied, taking his hand and enjoying the firm heat of hit. “And that’s quite all right because I probably won’t be, either. Maybe we can salvage the evening together.”

“Interesting proposal… as long as some guy doesn’t stroll in here spoiling for a fight because I bought his woman a drink.”

“I haven’t been anyone’s woman for a long time.”

He eyed her disbelievingly for a moment. Then one corner of his mouth lifted in a devastatingly sexy, lopsided grin. “Well, all right then. What are you drinking?”

* * *

A large party occupied the front of the restaurant, and a moment after stepping through the glass doors, Henry realized it must be Vince and his fiancée’s wedding party sitting down to the rehearsal dinner. He recognized Vince and his wife-to-be, Vince’s parents and grandparents, and the two groomsmen—Vince’s college buddies—but he didn’t recognize the two younger women sitting beside the bride, the middle-aged couple, or the older woman beside them. They must be the bridesmaids and the bride’s parents and grandmother.

A cursory glance at the bridesmaids required a second look. Both were attractive, taller and slimmer than their friend, but the one with the mane of shimmering dark copper that ended in soft curls commanded his attention. Her expression was decidedly
not
one of enjoyment but of distress. Blue eyes that took on the lavender tint of her summer dress met his briefly, and his breath caught in his throat. With her graceful neck and shoulders, a face with delicate features, and full, feminine curves, it was all he could do to keep from staring. He managed, but he couldn’t help glancing back at her. When he caught her watching him, he turned quickly away so she didn’t see his lips quirk upward.

“Welcome home, Henry.”

“Thanks, Pat,” he replied to the man behind the bar.

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