Just Say Maybe: A Thistle Bend Novel (15 page)

“I’m so sorry about how the townspeople treated you after you made the decision to approve the loan for the lodge,” Bryce said to him. “As a businessman, I understand that sometimes you have to make the best decisions you can in no-win situations—and you made yours in good faith. After that, Adam Evanston was responsible for all the bad things that happened with the lodge, not you. The people that blamed you just didn’t think things all the way through.” He swiped his fingers across his forehead and dragged his hand down his face. “It’s awful what that did to you and your family.” Bryce reached over and squeezed her grandpa’s shoulder. “Especially to your wife.”

Heavyhearted, Holly reached for her grandpa’s hand.

“I’m so sorry you lost her,” Bryce said, glancing at Holly then back at her grandpa. “I hated to hear it when Holly told me. Then Holly showed me her bracelet that says ‘Always love.’ She said your wife loved gardening, and she told me about the amazing greenhouse you built in memory of her. About the baskets of fruits and vegetables you leave on people’s porches.” He shook his head, looking a little bewildered. “I’m sincerely blown away by the loving ways you two keep her spirit alive.”

Holly swallowed back tears. Her grandpa nodded, his eyes glistening.

“I hate that I didn’t have a chance to meet her. Maybe I can get to know her through the two of you.” Bryce furrowed his brow. “But I don’t even know her name.” He set his gaze on her grandpa.

“Camellia,” her grandpa said, his bottom lip quivering. “But most of the time I called her Cammie.”

Bryce nodded. “I like that. It fits perfectly with how I imagined her.” He squeezed her grandpa’s shoulder again, then brought his hand to the table and began tapping his fingers on top of it, something Holly had noticed he did when his emotions were running high.

“It did fit her,” her grandpa said with a wisp of a rueful smile.

They sat quietly for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, the breeze rustling the leaves of the aspens beyond the barn.

“After I heard your story,” Bryce said to Holly’s grandpa, “I completely understood why you’d be against the lodge coming back into your life—why you’d be against me. And I could have ducked you, gone about my business, and left Holly alone to explain why she’s representing me. But both of you deserve better than that, and that’s why I showed up here today, to let you see for yourself what I am about. To get it all out in the open.” He leaned back in his chair, still lightly tapping his fingers on the table.

Holly thought her heart might burst. He’d taken the talk she’d dreaded having with her grandpa and turned it into something bittersweet and positive. She felt a little guilty about wishing he hadn’t come when he’d shown up earlier. He had to have been nineteen kinds of nervous standing there at the corner of the house, clutching a big brown bag full of lunch. She set her gaze on him, smiled softly, and reached for his hand, twining her fingers between his. Without words, she hoped to convey to him and her grandpa that Bryce was more than just a client.

He’s the man I left room for in my heart.

Fresh from a shower, Bryce stood in front of the closet in the bedroom of his cabin, putting on a clean pair of jeans. He’d returned there following his amazing afternoon with Holly and Fred, planting vegetables in the garden.

Fred…

He’d had no idea he’d leave Birdsong Farm familiar and friendly enough with Holly’s grandpa to call him Fred.

Hearing Holly’s story this morning, and resolving things with Fred this afternoon, had Bryce feeling mellow and satisfied. Digging in the dirt had been cathartic, and contributing to the garden had given him a small yet meaningful opportunity to pay homage to Holly’s grandma.

Despite the positive outcome of his visit, his conscience nagged at him for not being completely up front with Holly and Fred. Bryce hadn’t expected things to go as smoothly as they had when he’d shown up at the farm. In the end, he’d chosen not to risk losing the ground he’d gained by revealing that Adam Evanston was his father. As Holly had claimed about her story, there’d be a better way to tell them…a better time.

Wouldn’t there?

After getting an everything-is-fine update from the manager he’d left in charge at Los Halcón, Bryce had taken a long shower, relaxing under the steady stream of steaming water, mostly pleased with how the day had gone. A smile had tugged at his lips as he remembered how knotted his nerves had been when he’d arrived at Birdsong Farm, knowing that his plan could backfire big-time. He’d had no idea what he was going to say, or if he’d get to say it, but somehow his words had come out right.

He pulled a fresh T-shirt over his head just as his phone pinged with a text. Hoping it was Holly, he walked over to the bureau and checked, the wood-plank floor cool beneath his bare feet.

Milly and Merri can’t wait to meet the new man in town. Bloody Marys at the Princess tomorrow after the farmers market. See you then!

Sweet. Lindsey had come through.

He texted her back:

Bloody Marys? Bottoms up!

It was a long shot to think that two old ladies whose grandfather was in a picture he’d found in a sealed suite at the lodge were going to have any answers for him. But now that he’d run into a dead end with the calendars, he’d take a chance and see if he got lucky. At least he’d have the opportunity to meet the sisters who seemed to have Lindsey so enchanted.

The thought of the calendars had him eager to check the dates of the notations against those of the newspapers articles. He headed into the living room, pulled the calendars out of his backpack, and sat on the couch, in front of the coffee table where all the newspapers were stacked. Starting with the first calendar, he compared the notations to the earliest newspapers. Just as he had suspected, nearly every notation turned out to be a prediction, and most of what was predicted had occurred days, weeks, or even months later. Immersed in the mystery, he compared the second and third calendars with the newspapers and found that the same held true. With a mess of newspapers everywhere, he picked up the fourth calendar just as someone knocked on the door.

Curious to see who’d come out here, Bryce walked over to the door and opened it, his heart soaring at the sight of Holly.

“I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d stop by,” she said with a flirty tone. A tinge of her perfume wafted in on the breeze—the now familiar combination of cedar, citrus, and fresh spice that aroused all his senses. Her hair was loose and shiny, catching the early evening sun. She wore an outfit similar to the one she had on when they’d met up on the Wild Rose Ridge Trail—gray hiking pants and a long-sleeved bright blue top, with a sea-foam green fleece pullover tied around her waist. He liked all the outfits he’d seen her in, but this outdoorsy look was one of his favorites.

“Wanna come in?” he asked.

Holly stepped inside, yet stopped when she got toe to toe with him. She reached up and smoothed her hands down his scruffy cheeks, tipped up her chin, pulled him toward her, and kissed him.

Intensely.

Deeply.

Longingly.

She combed her fingers through his damp hair and clutched the length of it. Cupping his head with one hand, she trailed the other down along his neck and pressed her palm over his heart.

Bryce’s breath hitched at the fervor of her kiss, heat prickling his skin. He wrapped her in his arms, willingly captivated, eager to feel her against him again.

After she kissed him nearly dizzy, she pulled away just far enough to speak. “What you did for my grandpa and me today…” She brushed her lips lightly against his. “There are no words,” she whispered.

“It meant just as much to me.” His voice rumbled in his throat, low and husky. He pulled her closer, her body tempting his. He longed to feel her skin next to his, to please her like she deserved to be pleased.

Holly pressed her fingers between his pecs and slowly traced them down as far as she could before their touching bodies stopped her. It might be the first time he wished there was more space between them. “You busy?” she asked.

He gave her a crooked grin. “Right now I’d say I’m completely engaged.”

She smiled demurely. “But I want to take you to my secret place.”

Bryce loosened his grip on her, giving her a full view of the quizzical, playful look on his face. “Is that a come-on? Because I’m way past ready to go to your secret place.”

She laughed, a sweet, musical sound that resonated in his heart. “I think we have different secret places in mind.”

“Man,” he said forlornly, and pressed his forehead to hers. “You sure know how to slay a guy.”

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

He sighed and set his gaze on hers. “I’ll keep an open mind,” he teased.

“Go put on your hiking boots,” she said. “I’ve got everything else.”

Yes, you do.

Bryce reluctantly released her and she scanned the living space, ultimately setting her sights on the dining area with its large picture window overlooking the river.

“This is a really nice place,” she said.

He followed the path of her gaze, catching a glimpse of the picture of his father and the mystery woman that he had left on the nearby coffee table. His heart skidded to a stop, then ticked forward in overdrive. The calendars were spread out among the newspapers, too.

Everything I’ve been hiding from her, right out in the open for her to see.

“You definitely need to get a closer look at that view.” Guilt gripped him as he gestured toward the dining area window—at the opposite side of the cabin from all the evidence that would bust him. “Check out the wildflowers along the riverbank,” he said as she walked in one direction and he headed in the other. Hiding the picture was his first priority. He casually swept it from the end table and slid it beneath one of the thick couch cushions.

“Wow, they’re gorgeous, and there seem to be more of them this year. I could sit here all day,” she said as he collected the calendars, quickly counting them to make sure he hadn’t missed one in the mess, and shoving them under another couch cushion. “What are you doing?” she asked before he had time to stand upright.

Bryce’s stomach seesawed. “It looks like a tornado blew through the place over here.” He grabbed a handful of newspapers from the couch and put them on top of the stacks on the coffee table, hoping like hell she was buying his bluff. “I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression.” Satisfied that his secrets were somewhat well hidden, he gazed at her sheepishly. “In other words, I’m not a slob, I promise.” He gave her a please-believe-me grin, which wrecked him inside. He hated that he had to hide things from her.

Holly walked over to the living area and took in his “tornado.” She picked up one of the newspapers he’d just set on top of the stacks and studied it. “Thanks for reading all the articles. For that, I can forgive a little mess.”

Bryce’s chest tightened. He hardly deserved her forgiveness.

She looked up from the newspaper and grinned. “You gonna waste daylight playing Molly Maid, or are you going to put on your hiking boots?”

Stay and guard your secrets, or put on your boots so you can leave?

He had to give up one to do the other. Unless…

“Want to see the rest of the place?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Bryce led her down the hallway. “Guest bathroom here.” He pointed to the first open door. At the next one he said, “Guest bedroom here.”

Holly peeked into both rooms. “Nice.”

The hall ended at the doorway to the master suite and they stepped inside. Of all the times he’d imagined her in this room with him, the scenario had never involved his putting on hiking boots.

“There’s another view of the river and the flowers,” she said excitedly as she headed over to the bank of windows that took up most of the back wall.

Bryce grabbed his boots from the closet, put them on, and tugged a fleece pullover from a hanger. Once the sun started going down, the bottom would fall out of the temperature.

“I bet it’s pretty sweet waking up to this,” Holly said.

Being in such close proximity to Holly and a king-sized bed had Bryce even more eager to put the two of them together. “You’re welcome anytime you want to check it out.”

“Only if breakfast is included.” She winked. “Bryce’s B and B.” She walked over to the door, dashing his hopes that she might be tempted to stay.

“I’ve only got eggs for you,” he joked.

She scrunched her face, but still managed to smile. “You did not just say that.”

“I did,” he said proudly. “And I’m owning it.” He clasped her hand and led her back into the living area. “Sunny-side up. Over easy. Scrambled with cheese. Any way you want ’em.”

She gave him a flirty grin. “Keep the fridge stocked.”

Bryce bunched his lips and nodded. “At least there’s hope.”

They left the cabin and got in Holly’s SUV, and she drove them outside of town along dirt roads he’d yet to travel. Country music played on the radio, and Holly sang along sometimes, her voice a pretty alto. A fan of country rock himself, he sang along too when a familiar tune came on—only he made up his own words, which had Holly busting out laughing.

“Do you know the real words?” she asked.

“Yes—I just sang them. I saw the lyrics on a YouTube video, so they have to be right.”

She shook her head as if there was no hope for him.

After several miles heading to higher elevation, Holly pulled the SUV to the side of the road and parked.

Bryce scanned the desolate landscape—rocky terrain, a craggy mountain rise, scrubby foliage, an occasional spruce tree. He lowered his eyebrows, feigning disappointment. “I hate to say it, but I had higher hopes for your secret place.”

“Keep your boots on, mister,” she teased. “We’re not there yet.” She grabbed her backpack from the floorboard behind Bryce’s seat. “Follow me.”

They got out of the SUV and Holly lifted the pack, preparing to put it on. Bryce reached out and clutched the strap. “How about I carry it? I make an awesome Sherpa.” It was the least he could do since he hadn’t brought his pack along.

She released it to him. “If I’d known there were Sherpas like you, I would’ve hired one a long time ago.”

Bryce straightened his spine, pleased by her compliment. He put the pack on his back and she led him to the side of the street where the mountain rose up a rugged slope. Even though he had a good eye for trails, he couldn’t spot one.

About twenty yards up the road, just past a crop of purple wildflowers, she cut across the ditch and started climbing the rocks that had naturally formed awkward and uneven stairs, several requiring all-fours climbing to get up. Bryce’s knee was throbbing by the time they reached the top of them. The terrain became more manageable through the spruce forest, where the incline was more gradual thanks to several switchbacks Holly took on a whim, because he still didn’t see a trail. Her secret place must truly be a secret.

Bryce liked that they could hike together in comfortable silence, enjoying the calm of the early evening, the sunlight seeping through the tree canopy, the soft pad of their footsteps on the forest floor.

After another round of rocky steps, they came upon a flat area with waist-high bushes and wildflowers backed by a bank of red rock just below the mountain’s peak. As if Holly had an inner GPS, she cut through the bushes, heading for the rock. Just before they reached the base of it, the bushes gave way to a large patch of long, deep green, silky grass, swept to the side by the wind. It looked as if it had been groomed that way, begging for someone to lie down in it. Behind it were several flat boulders, and the sheer rise of rock up to the peak.

Holly stopped and faced him, an expectant look on her pretty, pink-cheeked face.

He took it all in, gazing up at the sky beyond the craggy summit, its blue fading with the oncoming sunset. “It’s like a cozy outdoor cathedral—if that makes any sense.”

Holly smiled as if he’d said exactly what she had hoped for. “It is cozy.” She pulled the pack off his back and guided it onto the grass. Clutching his hand, she turned him around. “Until you see what’s behind you.”

Awestruck, Bryce didn’t know where to look first. At the stunning panorama of mountains and valleys beneath the color-shifting sky. At the town of Thistle Bend sprawling on a grid below. Or at Holly, because his reaction was clearly important to her.

He chose Holly. Reaching out, he pulled her to him and kissed her lightly. “I love your secret place. I have no idea how you found it, because there was absolutely no trail there.”

“But did you see it?”

He furrowed his brow.

She faced forward and pointed to the right. “Look below the purplish-gray peak over there.”

Fortunately the mountains were distinct enough in color that he knew which one she meant. Just below the peak she’d indicated, glass gleamed beneath the gables of a gorgeous structure. Farther down the mountain, a lake sparkled like a blue topaz in the setting sun.

Bryce’s heart tumbled. “The lodge. It looks so amazing from here—kind of the way I see it in my mind.”

Holly beamed. “Wait till the colors in the glass change with the sunset. It’s beautiful in every hue—just like you’re going to make it.”