Should've Said No (11 page)

“You’ll never please them all, so don’t kill yourself trying. Just do your best work and the right people will be happy.”

If only that were true. And who were the right people? The Crenshaws or the Karlssons?

Lindsey clicked to a new page of her proposal. “General categories for exhibits will be Movers and Shakers—these are the people who’ve shaped the town—Coal Mining in Thistle Bend, From Mining to Mountain Bikes and Skis, Home and School, and Memories and Milestones. We’ll also have an interactive children’s exhibit. The Thistle Bend Model Town and Railroad will be at the center of it all.”

“The Crenshaws donated their model town?” Holly asked.

Lindsey nodded, heat rising in her face despite her best efforts to remain somewhat cool. “It’s such an incredible work of art, even though it’s not traditionally what people think of as art. The craftsmanship of each miniature house and business, of each little person, the detail down to a clothesline or a baseball. It’s really remarkable.”

Holly raised her eyebrows. “You talk about it as if you’ve seen it. Last I heard it was in Carden’s workshop.”

Lindsey slapped her fingers against her forehead. “I forgot to tell you. I met your sweet grandfather. Can’t believe I didn’t mention it first thing—my mind is a scrambled mess. Your grandpa Fred and his buddy Dean were at Carden’s when I was there to see the model town.” That wasn’t exactly how the story went, but it was close enough to true. Even Holly had to be kept in the dark about the time Lindsey and Carden had spent alone together. About the sparks between them. Lindsey had no choice but to paint a totally platonic picture of her relationship with him regardless of how much she’d like to confide in her new friend.

“I’ll bet he just loved you,” Holly said about her grandpa. “Dean, too.”

“The two of them were so cute. They came to pay Carden for the work he did on Dean’s cabin.” Lindsey tried to control the speed of her words since talking too fast might make Holly guess she was hiding something. Suddenly she remembered she was talking to a lawyer, and her stomach clenched. She took a swig of limeade and swallowed hard.

“So Carden came over the other night and fixed everything?” Holly’s tone implied that there must be a juicy story, and she couldn’t wait to hear it.

“Good as new.” Lindsey shrugged. “That toilet flushes like a dream.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “And?”

“The lights work and the windows aren’t stuck anymore. He’s one heck of a handyman. If you ever need any work done, he’s the guy to call.”

Holly narrowed her eyes, nodding slowly. “I’m thinking there’s more to that story, so spill it.”

Lindsey’s heart leapt into her throat. “I—”

Darlene stepped in from the front room and headed toward Lindsey and Holly. Lindsey’s new middle-aged assistant was medium in many ways—medium height, medium build, even her medium-length hair was medium brown. But Darlene had a large personality—clever, warm, and inviting—plus she was well known and liked by the townspeople. She’d already proven herself to be organized and enthusiastic. If Lindsey had the cash, she’d give the woman an on-the-spot bonus for perfect timing.

“This was dropped off for you.” Darlene handed Lindsey a beautiful royal purple envelope with filigree edges, her name written on it in scrolling silver script. The back flap was closed by a wax seal stamped with a heart. “I took a quick lunch break and it was on my desk when I got back.”

“Wow, this is beautiful.” Lindsey’s pulse pounded as she raced to figure out who would’ve sent her something sealed with a heart—to the museum? Tansy and Oscar knew better, and they didn’t seem the hearts-and-filigree type. Surely Carden wouldn’t, right? Just when she thought she’d been saved from Holly’s cross-examination about what had happened at the cabin the other night, something arrived from him? It seemed too coincidental to consider.

“I wonder who it’s from,” Holly said as if she had a good guess. Thankfully she didn’t blurt it out loud.

Stalling for time, Lindsey turned the envelope over in her hands as Holly and Darlene looked on curiously.

“Open it already.” Holly gave her an expectant grin.

“I hate to mess it up.”

Darlene smiled. “You’re not going to find out what’s in it any other way.”

“Right.” Lindsey slid a shaky finger beneath the fold and tore it away from the wax. A glimmering piece of silver stationery peeked from inside. She sucked in a breath, tugged out the single sheet, and unfolded it. On it a note had been written in royal purple in the same swirly script as Lindsey’s name on the front of the envelope. Now that such a production had been made about the note, surely Holly and Darlene would expect her to share it.

“I’ll give them points for presentation,” Holly said.

Lindsey held her breath and skimmed the single paragraph.

Dear Miss Simms,

Welcome to Thistle Bend. We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Please join us for tea tomorrow at two o’clock at 388 Knobby Creek, not far from Narrowleaf Pass. We have some very special items to donate to the museum, and we want to present them to you personally. Looking forward to meeting you.

With warmest regards,

Millicent and Merribelle Montgomery

Lindsey exhaled, embarrassed at herself. Had she really imagined Carden had sent her something fancy like that, sealed with a heart? “It’s from Millicent and Merribelle Montgomery.” She handed the note to Holly, who read it then passed it to Darlene.

“Oh boy,” Darlene said lightly. “More donations.”

Lindsey tugged her thick inventory binder from beneath several papers on her desk. “We can’t possibly display all that we have already.”

“As if you’d want to,” Holly quipped. “I must’ve gone through twenty boxes of donations and cataloged every single item. It’d take a genius to make interesting exhibits out of most of most of that stuff.”

“But there’s no telling what useful treasures Milly and Merri could add to our collection,” Darlene said with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Right, Holly?”

“No telling.” Holly bunched her lips. “Have you ever been up to their place?” she asked Darlene.

“Never been invited. Have you?”

“Nope.” Holly took a sip of her limeade. “But I’m dying to hear what it’s like.”

Holly and Carden had hinted that Lindsey might get the most interesting stories in Thistle Bend from the old Montgomery sisters. Would the same be true for their donations? Lindsey had a mile-long spreadsheet listing donations, and a binder made thick with the printout. But, as Holly said, it took unique items with stories of their own to create compelling exhibits. Lindsey agreed that much of what they’d received didn’t meet that standard and would go straight to the archives despite its role in Thistle Bend’s heritage. Two old women described as “
Charmed
meets
The Golden Girls
with a little
Bewitched
thrown in for fun” were bound to have something curious to contribute.

“Should we put the tea on your calendar?” Darlene asked.

Lindsey ran her fingers along the filigreed edges of the envelope, and over the smooth, heart-embossed wax. “I think we should. Sounds like it’s an invitation I can’t refuse.”

Chapter 13

Aspen was gorgeous in the summer, but Carden hadn’t been interested in hanging around town after the tedious business meeting he’d endured—not counting the two-and-a-half-hour drive to get there. He’d hardly been able to concentrate during the meeting for thinking about Lindsey. Not the best state of mind to be in while he’d been choosing which parcels of Crenshaw land to designate as wildlife refuges. For all he knew, his ranch property might’ve made the list while he’d sat daydreaming about her sitting on his workbench in the moonlight, the strap of her dress off her shoulder, his hips clenched between her thighs. Thinking about it again now during the drive back to Thistle Bend had him shifting in the seat of his pickup, determined not to get a hard-on. Damn being so distracted.

Lindsey had him losing his mind.

And my control. And my common sense.

Carden knew all too well where situations like the one with Lindsey last night would lead him, and he couldn’t allow himself to go there again. He got his fair share of action—with women outside of Thistle Bend. That made it easier to walk away from casual encounters that left him physically satisfied, but emotionally empty. Thistle Bend was too small to give him the distance he always craved afterward, so he’d steered clear of women there. But now there was Lindsey—definitely not a hit-it-and-forget-it kind of girl, and she was smack dab in the middle of Thistle Bend. All the danger signs were there but he was drawn to her despite them. He changed when he was with her—taking in her brightness and reflecting it back, on fire with the heat of the sun.

She was different than the rest.

Like Amanda…

His insides knotted as he envisioned her—long dark hair, whiskey brown eyes, a voluptuous body that had brought him pleasures he’d never known. How naïve of him not to have wondered where she’d learned all her moves. How naïve of him to put his heart out there for her to shatter when she’d left him. How could that pain be so fresh after all these years?

Carden couldn’t risk that again. He had to get Lindsey out of his head. He had to avoid seeing her. If he’d had his wits about him last night, he wouldn’t have volunteered to paint Dean’s cabin. He had wanted to help out Dean, and the painting project would put him right there at Lindsey’s house for a number of days. The idea had appealed to him at the time, when her kisses were fresh on his lips. Hell, it appealed to him now. But being around her would only tempt him more, and he’d proven that he couldn’t resist her. He had plenty of his own work that needed to get done anyway. Maybe he’d pay one of the ranch hands to paint the cabin. But the thought of giving another guy that job—and the opportunity of seeing her every day—sent an unfamiliar pang of possessiveness shooting through him. He clenched his jaw and struck the steering wheel with his palm.

As for tonight, he’d go straight home. Watch a Rockies game. Drink a beer. That would keep him occupied for a few hours. He’d miss the first inning or so but—

His cellphone rang. He shook the pain out of his hand, pressed the button on the steering wheel and answered.

“Carden Crenshaw.”

“So far so good.” The familiar sound of Gran’s voice filled the cab of the pickup and made him smile.

“You’ve lost me already, Gran.”

“Lindsey delivered her proposal to the museum’s board of directors this afternoon.”

Lindsey…
Carden resisted the urge to pinch his eyes closed. He couldn’t get away from the girl.

“I’ve just finished reviewing it,’ Gran said. “Looks as if you two have been busy.”

Carden’s heart ricocheted against his ribs. “What do you mean?”

“She’s proposed the model town and railroad as the centerpiece of the museum. Even has a designated space for it in the floor plan.”

“Good.” Carden liked to hear her so excited. “I’m happy everyone will be able to see Pops’s handiwork.”

“Yours, too,” she said. Papers shuffled on the other end of the line. “I’ve got a list of exhibit categories here, too. There are several areas where I’d expect the family to be represented—most all of them, really.”

Carden was beginning to wonder if building a Crenshaw family museum might satisfy her more.

“So you’re happy with the way things are turning out?” Hopefully he was done being the Crenshaws’ ambassador and she could take over from here.

“I’m pleased with the proposal. We’ve gotten off to a strong start, but I heard that Lindsey had dinner at The Canary with Tansy and Oscar last night.”

She’d heard from someone other than Carden. “I’m sure the Karlssons are going to be represented in the museum, too,” he said. “Just not as prominently as we will.”

“I already knew that.” She’d lowered her tone. “Believe it or not, I don’t care how prominently we’re represented. I just want Lindsey to get one important thing right. The Crenshaws did not steal that land deal. Period.”

Carden slowed the pickup as he rounded a sharp mountain bend. “I wouldn’t think she’d consider portraying it that way now that she’s accepted the model from us and proposed it as the museum’s centerpiece.”

“We can’t be certain of that. Maybe she figures the Crenshaws are being given top billing with the model front and center, so she’ll favor Tansy and Oscar when it comes to the land deal.”

“I don’t—”

“We
can’t
let that happen. I had hoped we’d unearth the evidence that proves what we already know. Even after all my volunteer hours going through donations, I never found it. Neither did Tansy, or she’d be lording it over us for sure. Old bat would probably build Thistle Bend’s first billboard to advertise the news. Unless…”

“What?”

“Unless she found something that proves the Crenshaws aren’t the thieves the Karlssons have made us out to be all these years—and she’s hiding it.”

Carden had heard that conspiracy theory his entire life, and he’d hear it a hundred more times before the land deal was officially documented in the museum. He’d always figured that if the deal was dirty back when it was done, someone would’ve darn well proven it by now. Maybe Gran was right. The Karlssons might already know that the deal went down fair and square, but they still insisted on playing the victims.

Bunch of whiners.

He’d never met one of them he liked.

“Lindsey submitted an excellent top-line proposal,” Gran said “Exactly what we asked for. But it doesn’t go deep enough to tell me what she’s planning to present about the land deal.”