Mountain Charm (3 page)

It was dusk by the time Angelina drove out of town and up the winding mountain road that would lead her home. The sky was a pinkish-orange as the sunset lingered just above the trees. Rain was still falling, but it was nothing more than a light shower as it gently tapped against the windshield.

Angelina couldn’t wait to get home. She wanted to curl up on the couch, eat a slice of birthday cake, and forget all about the curse.

By the time she reached the house, the rain had all but diminished. The fog was still dense, but it wasn’t so thick that she couldn’t see the black SUV parked in her mother’s driveway.

Or the man sitting on her front porch.

There are moments in a person’s life that absolutely shake them to their core. Moments that make them re-evaluate their every thought, their every decision.

This was Angelina’s moment.

And she couldn’t muster the courage to step out of the car.

Instead, she flexed her trembling fingers around the steering wheel and tried to comprehend the scene right before her disbelieving eyes.

There was a man on her porch.

Even through the fog, she could tell he was a handsome man.

And she couldn’t be sure, but he appeared to be around her age.

A man born in her decade.

A dazed Angelina glanced ahead, and through the mist, she took a long look at the black vehicle parked in her spot.

With Davidson County plates.

Nashville.

In an instant, the moment was shattered. Her short-lived astonishment gave way to something far more familiar—something bitter and suspicious and just downright
pissed
.

Feeling ridiculous, Angelina furiously slammed her car door and stalked toward the porch. This wasn’t her true love. Not at all. This was that snooping reporter from Nashville, and he was at her house, on her porch.

And petting
her
dog.

The man’s eyes widened as she approached, and by the time she reached the steps, he was already on his feet. Cash, traitor that he was, gave an unenthusiastic bark and rushed to Angelina’s side.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

The man looked a little stunned.

“I’m Dylan Thomas.” His eyes were a deep brown and his voice was kind. Thanks to her rage, both features were fairly easy for Angelina to ignore. “You must be Celia’s daughter. Wow, I heard you were beautiful, but—”

“Dylan Thomas?” Angelina muttered coldly, interrupting his compliment. “What kind of person names their kid after some drunken Welsh poet?”

 “I don’t know. Maybe the same kind of person who names their dog after their favorite country music singer.”

Angelina’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, Angelina, you’re home!” Celia’s voice cut through the tension as she carried a tray out onto the porch. “I was just getting Mr. Thomas a slice of your cake.”

“Mrs. Clark, please. I’ve asked you to call me Dylan.” He smiled at the woman before sitting back down in the rocking chair with his plate.

Cash seemed torn, looking between the stranger and his owner, before finally releasing a resigned whine and plopping down at Angelina’s feet.

The man has charmed both my mother
and
my dog
.

“Dylan has driven all the way from Nashville to meet us,” Celia said.

“
Dylan
is here to write a story about our family. Did he tell you that? Did he tell you he’s been all over town, asking questions about us?”

“He mentioned it, yes.” Celia smiled at the man before turning her attention back to her daughter. “You know, it’s getting a bit chilly. I think I’ll go find a good book and crawl into my warm bed. Give you two the chance to get acquainted.”

“Mom . . .”

Celia’s eyes danced with happiness, and it tugged at Angelina’s heart. There was no mistaking the hope there.

Stupid spell.

“Happy birthday, Angelina.”

Dylan leapt to his feet, thanking Celia again for the cake and holding the screen door open as they said good night. Angelina had to admit the man was good. Those intrinsic good manners were going to charm the pants off many of the women he would encounter throughout his life.

But not her.

“It’s your birthday?”

“Yes, and it was blissfully uneventful until you showed up.”

“Beautiful
and
infuriating,” Dylan muttered. “Look, Angelina, I was just given this assignment yesterday. I don’t have a clue about Appalachian magic tricks or devil worshipping or whatever it is you do up in these mountains, but I have a story to write. Just let me interview you and your mom, and I’ll be back on the interstate before you can say
abracadabra
.”

Instead of pointing out just how ignorant he sounded, Angelina decided what he truly needed was a strong dose of fear.

“Actually, I do have something you need to see. A family heirloom. Wait here?”

Excited for any useful information, Dylan’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. Once again, those good manners kicked in, and Dylan opened the door for her.

Angelina raced inside the house. She hadn’t touched it in years, but she still remembered where her father kept the key to the case. She grabbed what she needed and quickly made her way back out to the porch, letting the screen door slam behind her.

Dylan jumped out of his chair. “What the hell?”

Angelina lifted the rifle and pointed it straight at him. He didn’t need to know the safety was on—or that the chamber was empty.

“This is a Remington, passed down from my father and his father, also known as an Appalachian magic wand. Just watch. It’s going to make you disappear.”

Angelina thought it was almost comical, hearing him curse and watching him leap off the porch. All the commotion caused her dog to chase after him, which only made Dylan sprint faster until he reached the sanctuary of his vehicle.

“Are you insane?” Dylan yelled.

“I tend to get a little crazy when someone trespasses on my property. Leave my family alone and don’t come back!”

He slammed the door and had to do some fancy maneuvering to get around her car, but within seconds, the only sounds Angelina could hear were Dylan’s squealing tires, Cash’s noisy bark, and her mother’s hearty laughter.

Dylan Thomas couldn’t believe his luck.

He should have been white-water rafting down the Mississippi.
That
had been his assignment until yesterday, when his editor handed him driving directions to Maple Ridge, Tennessee, to do a feature on Appalachian witchcraft.

He was being punished. He was sure of it.

It wasn’t as if the mountains weren’t pretty. With his trusty camera strapped around his neck, Dylan had taken some beautiful shots today. He’d even snapped a few with his phone and sent them to his mom back in Nashville. The country was gorgeous, but to live there for any extended period of time would require plenty of alcohol and quite possibly, a lobotomy.

Throughout the day, he’d heard nothing but wonderful things about the Clarks. The mom was a sweetheart, no doubt, but the daughter . . .

Well, the daughter was batshit crazy.

And beautiful. Really beautiful, with gorgeous blue eyes that seemed to flash with fire. With her long black hair and fiery temper, his attraction had hit him like a cannonball. In that split second, he’d wondered what it would feel like to hold her. To kiss her.

But then the pretty was replaced with the crazy, and she’d chased him off the porch with a shotgun.

He wasn’t going to stand for it. He had an article to write. A job to do. And he’d be damned if some redneck witch was going to cost him this assignment.

Even if she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“You didn’t call me.”

As in most small towns, word spread fast in Maple Ridge, and the news that Angelina Clark had chased the snooping reporter off her porch with her daddy’s rifle had caused more than a few chuckles in town.

Maddie, however, wasn’t laughing.

“You promised, Angelina.”

“I know. I’ve apologized repeatedly. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

That was a lie. Angelina
knew
it would be a big deal to her best friend, which was precisely why she hadn’t called. Interestingly enough, Celia hadn’t said a word about Dylan over breakfast. But she was still laughing—louder than she’d laughed in years. In Angelina’s mind, dealing with the irritating man had been worth the aggravation for that reason alone.

She’d missed her mother’s laughter.

Maddie sighed. “You are exhausting! Was he cute?”

Angelina rolled her eyes and continued dusting the glass case that housed their collection of capos and picks. She mentally noted she’d need to order more before the end of the week.

“Ang, you have to give me
something
.”

“Fine! I suppose, if forced, I’d call him handsome.”

Maddie arched an eyebrow. “You suppose?”

Angelina nodded.

“Don’t get too excited there.”

“It’s a little hard to get excited when the man is an ignorant ass.”

Maddie’s grin was mischievous. “That’s why he’s coming to you. He needs to be educated.”

“Well, I’m not a teacher. He’s going to have to get educated elsewhere.” Her dusting complete, Angelina grabbed her cup of tea from the register and headed toward the office. “Now, if you’re done with the interrogation, I need to make an order.”

“If only you took your love life as seriously as you take this store!” Maddie yelled, but Angelina ignored her friend and kicked the office door shut behind her.

To Angelina’s great relief, her partner left her alone, giving her the chance to spend a couple of hours getting caught up on paperwork. She finished the weekly order, worked on some monthly billing statements, and before she knew it, two hours had passed and it was time for lunch. On cue, Angelina’s cell phone vibrated on her desk. Certain it was Maddie asking for her lunch order, she glanced down at the screen. It
was
from her best friend, but the text message had nothing to do with food.

You are such a liar. He is gorgeous.

Dark hair, beautiful brown eyes, and looks so good standing at the register.

Angelina had never considered carrying a weapon on a daily basis, but right at this moment, she really missed her dad’s rifle.

With an irritated groan, she rose from her desk and flung open the office door. Hurrying to the front of the store, she stopped abruptly when she noticed two men standing at the register.

One was Dylan Thomas, and the other was the county sheriff.

Angelina glanced at Maddie, who was standing behind the counter with an enormous smile on her face.

Maddie had always loved drama.

After a quick glimpse around the store to make sure they were alone, Angelina squared her shoulders and looked Dylan Thomas straight in the eye.

“Get the hell out of my shop.”

Dylan spun toward the sheriff.

“See? She’s rude,
and
she pulled a gun on me last night. Surely that’s a punishable offense.”