There was a very different vibe here than in her childhood home. Everyone always gathered in the kitchen and chatted with Mrs. H as she bustled around, never idle. At her home, they rarely went into the kitchen. Meals were brought out and they’d eat in the formal dining room. She and her sister Meredith were instructed to dine without speaking. Their mother would listen to their father drone on. Most times, she and her sister ate alone while their parents attended some “important” function. When she started boarding school and became close friends with Cori, her friend would invite her to stay for the weekend at the ranch and she’d jump at the chance. Despite her lack of outdoor skills, her time here had always put her at peace.
She missed the bowl and dropped a spoonful of the medley of greens onto the counter as Cole passed behind her to retrieve the salt and pepper mill from the cupboard. The fresh scent of soap mixed with leather and the outdoors teased her nose. Gage sidled up next to her and plucked one of the pieces of lettuce and he dropped it into his mouth. Melanie held up a spoon in a threatening motion, laughing. He smiled down at her.
“Darling, you can swat me with that anytime,” he said, leaning against the counter.
Mrs. H snapped her brows together into one gray line. “You sit down and mind your manners, Gage Mackenzie.”
He gave her a brisk nod, followed by a wink, and took the salad bowl. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Sit,” Mrs. H said to her as she placed a massive platter of roast, potatoes, and carrots on the table. Melanie nodded, taking a moment to decide where to sit. Cole was seated at the head of table, the scowl on his face making her not want to sit near him. The wide grin on Gage’s face was much more welcoming so she settled beside him, as Mrs. Harris sat opposite them.
She had dined with them so many times that she knew she was to wait for Mrs. H to serve everyone. The rustic farmhouse table was dark, and chunky green candles in glass jars were flickering on either end. Yellow quilted place mats adorned each setting and dark pottery dishware was presently being filled with the most divine comfort food. Mrs. Harris was known for feeding everyone’s soul, and every time Melanie had eaten dinner here when she and Cori had been at school, she’d wished this was how her home had been.
Within minutes they were digging into their food, the conversation lively between the three of them. Every now and then she’d glance over at Cole who, for the most, part ate in silence. His dark head was bent over his plate, and it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. She glanced over at Cole while Mrs. Harris served Gage an extra helping of potatoes and a side of serious reprimanding on his choice of women lately.
“Have you heard anything from Cori yet?” Melanie asked Cole when there was a lull in conversation.
He shook his head, glancing up at her. “Not much. I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll have more.”
“That poor dear. If only I were there with her,” Mrs. H said, buttering the already rich biscuit and taking a hefty bite.
“At least Adam went,” Gage said.
Cole made a noise under his breath and scowled into his plate.
Melanie frowned slightly. It was an odd reaction to Adam. Didn’t he like his future brother-in-law? Cori had never mentioned there was any tension between them.
Gage stabbed his beef with his knife. “He’d better make sure Cori’s surgery goes well.”
“Damn straight.”
Melanie rolled her eyes. She understood now. Cole was a notoriously overprotective older brother, and Gage was the surrogate overprotective brother. Melanie leaned forward. “Is Adam performing the surgery?”
Mrs. Harris let out a booming laugh. “Ah, it’s nice to have female company in the house.”
Melanie smiled at her, but was distracted by the rattling of wind against the massive windows. The light snowflakes had now turned into large, heavy flakes that whirled around the glass pane ominously.
Mrs. Harris followed her gaze. “You know, I think you should spend the night here,” she said, patting her mouth with a yellow napkin.
Cole’s coffee cup paused midway to his mouth, his eyes on Mrs. Harris.
“Yup, I think so too, or I can drive you home in my truck. And if the snow picks up, I can be your houseguest,” Gage said with a wink.
Melanie choked on her coffee.
“No, Melanie can stay here.” Cole leaned back in his chair, eyes on Gage. Melanie’s stomach fluttered at the unfamiliar hint of…something she detected in his deep voice. No, she obviously was reading into things. He was looking out for his kid sister’s friend. That was all.
Mrs. Harris stood from the table, picking up the empty salad bowl. Her head was downturned, but Melanie caught the faint smile on her face before she turned away. Melanie glanced back and forth between Cole and Gage. “I really don’t want to be a bother. This is just light snowfall. I’m used to driving in this—”
“The roads aren’t lit out here and it’d take you almost an hour to get back into Passion Creek,” Cole said, standing. “It’s no bother.” He grabbed his plate and brought it over to the island. His back was to her, and Melanie let her gaze wander over the length of him. How many times had she admired Cole from a distance? Not that there could ever be anything between them. He saw her as his little sister’s friend, and she knew he’d never truly gotten over Sarah. She’d attended Cole’s wedding to Sarah eight years ago, a guest of Cori’s. And then she’d attended Sarah’s funeral five years later. The image of Cole, in his black suit, stoic and proud, would sometimes still haunt her. His lean, chiseled features had been tight, almost gaunt. The toll of having spent every waking moment with his wife the last month of her life was unmistakable in his face. There had been new lines around his eyes, beside the firm mouth. But the raw pain in his brown eyes had been devastating to witness. When tears had silently strewn down the plains of his cheeks as Sarah’s casket was lowered into the ground, Melanie had turned away, unable to witness the anguish.
Her friend’s older brother had always been the type she had to admire from afar. Whenever Mel spent any time at the ranch, Cole was dismissive and standoffish. She was sure that he assumed she was the typical rich, private-school kid. Cori told her Cole hadn’t been pleased with their parent’s idea of putting Cori into private school, despite it being ranked the country’s top school. Being eight years older than Cori, he sometimes took on the role of the third parent. Cole prided himself on being a hard-working rancher and never forgetting their family’s unpretentious roots. For Melanie and her sister, coming to school in Passion Creek meant boarding there, hours away from their parents.
Mrs. Harris glanced over at her as she placed pots in the sink. “It’s settled then. I’ll get the spare room all set up for you, my dear.”
Melanie stood. “I can do that.”
“Nonsense. It will be my pleasure. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a guest here overnight. I’m looking forward to some conversation with a woman. Cori’s been away for a few weeks, and I’m going crazy with these men.”
“Thanks,” Cole said with a short laugh.
“Mrs. H, you love us. Besides, who else would eat all this food?” Gage peered into the oven and then shut the door with a frown. “No dessert? Chocolate cake?”
Mrs. Harris stood with her hands perched on her wide hips. “It’s on the cake stand. I’ll slice you a piece and then it’s out of here. I need to get a room set up for Melanie and then clean up the kitchen.”
Gage eyed the chocolate cake under the glass dome. “I can slice it myself.”
“You’ll eat half the cake if I leave you alone,” she grumbled. Mrs. Harris loved doting on the men, and despite the fact that the both of them were probably two of the most masculine, hardened men she’d met, they were very comfortable letting Mrs. Harris fuss over them.
“Well, why don’t I clear the table while you slice that cake?” Melanie called out over her shoulder, already stacking the dishes from the table.
“Thank you, m’dear,” she said, slicing into the deep, dark chocolate dessert. Melanie placed the dishes into the white farmhouse sink, glancing over to see Mrs. Harris place two heaping mounds of cake onto waiting plates.
“Want some milk with that?” Cole drawled as Gage snatched up the first plate.
Gage paused a forkful of cake halfway to his lips, his eyes darting to hers. “Coffee. Black. I don’t drink milk.”
“Enough nonsense. I have a kitchen to clean and a guest to care for. Now, off you go,” Mrs. Harris said, swatting Gage on the arm with a dish towel. Melanie was smiling as she cleared the remaining items from the table.
“Nice seeing you, Mel,” Gage said, before shoveling a large bite of the cake into his mouth.
Melanie smiled at him. “You, too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast,” he said with a wave as he left the room.
Cole stood in the doorway for a moment, holding his plate of uneaten cake in his hands. His brown eyes were, as usual, beautiful but unreadable. “‘Night, Mel.”
Melanie raised her hand in her second awkward wave of the evening. “Good night.”
She turned to find Mrs. Harris staring at her pensively, before quickly turning away and placing the glass dome back on the cake tray.
“Come, my dear, follow me and I’ll get you all settled upstairs. You must be tired,” she said as Melanie followed her out the kitchen. Tired? She never went to bed this early. But she couldn’t exactly hang around the great room with Gage and Cole. And it was too late to ask them to take her up to the chapel, especially with the current weather. She supposed she could go into the dining room and take measurements, but again she didn’t want to bother Mrs. H.
Melanie followed Mrs. H up the stairs. She knew the house very well, almost all the creaks in the wide plank dark wood floors exactly where she remembered them. She ran her hand along the smooth, polished banister as they made their way to the second floor. The six-bedroom home was spacious but inviting. The buttery yellow walls and dark wood accent furniture accentuated the richly colored wool carpets sitting on the hardwood floors.
“Normally I would put you in the guest room with the en suite, but that washroom has been making some funny noises. I just don’t trust it. So I’ll put you in this room instead, but you’ll have to use that hallway washroom,” Mrs. Harris said, as she opened the door to one of the rooms. The room had a white iron-framed double bed, with a brightly colored patchwork quilt, and a large window overlooking the back of the property.
“Oh don’t worry at all. Like I said, I don’t want to be a bother. Besides, this room is absolutely gorgeous,” Melanie said, placing her bag on a wicker chair in the corner of the room. She had never been in here; usually she’d sleep in Cori’s room when she was over.
“I’ll run and get some pajamas for you from Cori’s room.”
“Thank you, but really don’t fuss.”
“Don’t you worry,” Mrs. H said bustling out of the room.
Melanie walked over to her purse, pulling out her phone and then walked to the window. She needed to check for messages at work. She chewed her bottom lip as she listened to the first message from one of her more difficult clients. Her wedding-planning business, while doing very well, was still in the early phases. She needed every single one of her clients, no matter how difficult they were.
She glanced over her shoulder when Mrs. Harris crept into the room, and quickly placed some clothes on the edge of the bed.
“Good night, dear,” she whispered and then scurried out of the room.
Melanie barely glanced at the clothes as she listened to the last message. The voice that was on the other end of the line echoed through the receiver and bombarded her senses, an avalanche of memories cascading over her, through her, and weighing her down until she sank to the bed. It was her sister. “Melly, it’s me, Meredith. I…I know it’s been a long time, but I’m coming to Passion Creek next week. Father is coming in for some deal between Anderson Food and—” Melanie sucked in her breath as her sister stopped speaking, the low, muffled timbre of a man’s voice in the background. Her sister must have placed her hand over the receiver and she heard them arguing. Who was it? Their father? Her heart ached in a slow, pounding beat as she waited to hear her sister’s voice again. But she didn’t hear it. All she heard was the ominous
click
of the receiver, and her own ragged breath that she finally freed from her mouth.
Meredith hadn’t contacted her in years. No one in their family had.
Melanie stared at the display on her phone again, slowly rising. She walked over to the window, her eyes focusing on the darkening skyline. And then she hit the replay button. This time, she could listen without having her knees give out. This time, she could make out the anxiety in each syllable.
She listened to the message three more times until she finally gave up, and despite her efforts could not make out the man’s identity. But she did know her sister was coming to Passion Creek. And so was their father. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Not to see you, Mel. It’s for his precious company, Anderson Food Group.
Melanie turned around and rolled her shoulders. She needed a nice, long, hot shower. She needed to push aside the thoughts of Meredith, their father, their past. She would rather think of the handsome, emotionally unavailable rancher downstairs.
She frowned as she glanced down at the tiny pile of clothes on the edge of the bed. The pile was tiny because the clothes were fairly nonexistent. It was lingerie. She had pictured herself crawling into some nice warm and fuzzy flannels. Not something made out of a slip of silk and lace.
This
was what Mrs. Harris found for her to wear?
Chapter Two
Cole grumbled to himself as he made his way to the upstairs linen closet. He’d been ready to take a shower when he noticed there were no towels in his washroom. Not that he’d ever complain to Mrs. H. He was bone tired and all he wanted was to take a hot shower before going to bed.
He was also out of sorts today, too. First, he was still waiting on news from his little sister’s fiancée. He knew it was routine surgery, but still. He wanted to know she was fine and on the mend. He’d have a few choice words with his soon to be brother-in-law when he finally got around to calling him.