Starting Over (Nugget Romance 4) (26 page)

As he was halfway across the lawn, she called, “Congratulations on Gold Mountain. I mean . . . you know . . . way to go.”
And way to stand there like a freak show
, she chided herself.

“Thanks.” He gave her a mechanical wave goodbye and disappeared inside his house.

Sam locked up and made a beeline for her shower, wanting to wash her mouth out with soap for her stupid, stupid confession. But after twenty minutes under the hot spray, she felt worse than mortified, she felt heartbroken. Nate only liked her for fun, and she liked him for everything.

For all his skepticism about her abilities, no man had ever made her feel more confident or beautiful or clever than Nate had. He was the only man who had ever made her see her full potential. And the only man who didn’t care that she was a Dunsbury. In fact, she knew that he held it against her.

He was breathtakingly handsome and smart and funny . . . and cynical . . . and sarcastic . . . and imperfect . . . and perfect for her. Except he didn’t think she was perfect for him.

She went to sleep, refusing to cry. And when her alarm went off, she seriously considered staying under the covers and calling in sick.
Coward
. Pretty soon, Landon Lowery and his clan would be coming to town, and she had lots to do. So she dragged her butt out of bed, got ready for work, and drove in.

 

As soon as she got in the door of the inn, she smelled coffee and bacon and wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Brady said. “Grab a seat and I’ll feed you.”

“I’m not that hungry.” But she sat down anyway.

He gave her a commiserating glance and shoved a plate under her nose. “Go ahead, have some bacon. Everything’s better with pig.”

She’d never heard that one before and despite herself, smiled. And nibbled. Brady slid a steaming cup of coffee her way.

“The meeting with Miss Priss didn’t go so well, I take it?”

“With Fifi? It actually went better than expected.”

“Oh yeah.” He glanced at her again but didn’t say anything.

“I need to talk to you about it because I want you to be in charge of catering the event instead of asshole Richard. Where’s Nate?”

“He was in at the crack of dawn and said he had to go somewhere.” Brady went back to his prep work.

It probably had something to do with Gold Mountain. Or maybe he was trying to avoid her. She planned to act like her idiotic confession had never happened. “Would you be up for doing the event? We’d pay you extra, of course, and put you up at the Theodore, where you would use the kitchen and staff.”

“Sure. It would be a kick. But who’ll cook here?”

“The event isn’t until September, so maybe we can rope Emily into covering for you. It would only be a weekend and whatever advance prep time you’d need. But I’m not going to lie to you; Fifi’s a ballbuster.”

“I’ve worked with my share of ballbusters.” The corner of his mouth tugged up. “I can handle her.”

“That’s what I told Nate.” She finished her breakfast and locked herself inside her office.

Landon wanted an itinerary for the week of his family reunion. She finalized the plans and emailed them to him. Then Sam wrote a thank-you note to Fifi, dropped it in the mail, and returned a few calls. And at noon she strolled over to the Ponderosa to get lunch. Harlee and Darla sat in one of the back booths and waved her over.

“You guys don’t care if I join you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harlee said, and pushed a plate of fries toward Sam. “If I keep eating those, I won’t fit into my wedding gown.”

“You getting excited?” Sam asked, although the last thing she wanted to talk about was weddings and couples in love.

“I am.” Harlee hugged herself. “I can’t believe it’s happening so fast. Even Colin is getting into it. He’s already finished half of the little boxes. They’re the sweetest party favors you’ve ever seen. He’s buying a laser etching machine so he can put each guest’s name on their box.”

“So adorable, right?” Darla said. Today she had lime-green streaks in her hair and had done her nails to match.

“They sound wonderful.” Sam ordered a salad and iced tea from the server and tried to change the subject. “Any good gossip?”

“I’m hearing rumors that Nate and Maddy are in the process of buying Gold Mountain.” Harlee nudged Sam’s shoulder. “What do you know? I’m trying to get a story on the website today.”

“No comment, I’m afraid.”

“You’re no fun.”

Apparently that’s all Nate thought she was. Fun. “I would just like to keep my job, Harlee.”

“You know you just indirectly confirmed it, right?”

Sam pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key. “What else do you have?”

“Apparently some chick named Raylene Rosser is back in town,” Harlee said. “Darla knows her.”

“I don’t
know her
know her, I just know of her,” Darla said. “She’s from the Rock and River Ranch. Married some rich guy from Denver, who cheated on her with her best friend. All pretty unremarkable, except that there was some big scandal with her and Lucky Rodriguez when she was a senior in high school. Afterward, Lucky left town. Weird that they both came back at the same time, isn’t it?”

“What kind of scandal?” Sam suspected that Raylene was the blonde from the Ponderosa—the same woman Lucky had been scoping out at the wedding.

“I don’t know,” Darla said. “All I know is that Lucky’s mom was a housekeeper at the Rock and River and Lucky used to wrangle there on weekends. I don’t think Cecilia likes the Rossers much.”

From the little Sam had talked to Cecilia at Emily’s wedding, she thought the woman was lovely. Sam had never met the Rossers.

Sophie brought Sam’s salad and grabbed a seat at their table.

“Who’s taking care of Lilly today?” Darla asked.

“She’s upstairs with Mariah. We’re trying to get the apartment ready to rent.”

“You have any prospects?” Harlee asked. Sam had seen the apartment and it was not at all what she would’ve expected for a flat above a bowling alley. It had lots of open space, great views, gleaming hardwood floors, and oodles of old-world charm.

“I think Tater wants it,” Sophie said. “He’s been living in a rental cabin out in the boondocks and would like to be closer to town now that his parents are getting older.”

Tater had always been a mystery to Sam. With his grizzled face he could be thirty or sixty. It’s not like she could tell from his voice, because the man barely spoke. But Nate liked him. Sometimes she’d see him standing near the kitchen window conversing with the Ponderosa cook. That was the thing about Nate. As sophisticated and Harvard and big-time hotelier as he was, he fit in around here. He played basketball with the guys at the police station, got his hair cut at the barbershop, and hung out sometimes with Griffin at the Gas and Go.

“That would be perfect,” Harlee said. “Then he could just roll out of bed to get to work.”

“Exactly.” Sophie laughed and turned to Sam. “Have you seen Nate? I went over to the inn a little while ago, but he wasn’t there.”

“No. Brady said he had an errand to do.” Sam speared a tomato in her salad and popped it into her mouth, wondering if Nate would tell Sophie that they’d slept together. He and Sophie were best friends, after all.

“Speaking of Brady, how’s that going?” Darla asked. “I want to get my hands on his hair. The guy is so hot.”

Harlee nudged her best friend. “Hey, you have Wyatt.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t admire a good-looking man. Uh . . . it’s sort of my job as a stylist.”

Harlee rolled her eyes. “What’s his story? It’s like he materialized out of nowhere.”

Just like Sam. She’d only been here six months, but already felt like part of the town. She had wonderful friends, a great house, and an even better job. Here, no one cared that her family’s money was older than California. And here is where she met Nate. And lost him.

“He seems to be fitting in well,” Sam said. “I don’t know what brought him here, but he came at a perfect time.” Maybe, like Sam, he’d been running from his past, looking for his future.

Sam finished her lunch and went back to the inn, feeling even more melancholy than she had before. Talking about Harlee’s wedding hadn’t helped, not that Sam wanted to get married. Not after her last catastrophe.

“Hey.” Andy, who stood behind the front desk, wearing his usual morose attitude, nudged his chin at her. “You got a delivery.”

“What is it?”

“It’s inside your office.” He rubbed his fingers together. “Big bucks.”

Apparently he planned to keep her in suspense during the four steps to her office. Andy. She shook her head and went to see what it was. Dozens of red roses sat in a vase on her desk. At a glance, she’d say three or four dozen. They had to be from George. Her father must’ve finally figured out that you get more bees with roses than by selling off your daughter’s prized summerhouse.

She took the time to inhale the flowers’ sweet aroma, then picked up the phone and dialed.

“Thank you for the roses, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome,” George said. “But I didn’t send you roses. If you’ll come home, though, I’ll buy you an entire flower shop. How did your meeting go?”

The question surprised her, since he’d never taken her job seriously. For Sam, his interest was even better than flowers.

“It went great,” she said. “Thanks for asking. I think you would like this Fifi Reinhardt. She’s incredibly bullheaded.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said, but Sam could hear the smile in his voice. “The Reinhardts. Real estate, right?”

“Yes. You know them?”

“Nope, don’t believe we’ve ever met. So who sent you flowers?”

Good question, since Sam had thought it was George. “I don’t know. Come to think of it, maybe it was Fifi.” It was something someone like her would do.

“Hmm. You get any further along with that VP job?”

“No. Nate doesn’t think I have enough experience.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Come home.”

Maybe visiting Connecticut for a week was a good idea. She could hide from Nate until she got over her embarrassment and come back in time for Landon Lowery’s family reunion. “I don’t know, Daddy. I’ll have to see if I’ve accrued any vacation time.”

George let out a loud harrumph. “If you haven’t, quit.”

She shook her head. Her father might be making strides, but he still didn’t get it. “I’ll let you know.”

“You do that. And, Samantha?”

“Yes?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Daddy.” Suddenly she missed him so much her chest ached.

After hanging up the phone, Sam searched the bouquet for that ubiquitous white envelope, which she grabbed out of the holder, opened, and read the card.

She read it fifteen times and even cried a little bit.

S
am headed down the hall to Nate’s office as if she were walking on air. Happiness flooded every fiber of her body. And her heart did cartwheels at the possibilities of what their life could be together.

He loved her. And God, did she love him—the man who’d been her nemesis since moving to Nugget. She could hardly believe it. But didn’t they say that love came when you least expected it? And Sam could safely say that she’d never dreamt of finding Nate Breyer.

Not here. Not now.

The door to his office was shut. The poor man was hiding, clearly wanting to give her time to digest his message. And she supposed the flowers were his way of apologizing for running out on her after he’d made love to her on the kitchen counter, of all places.

She went to knock but heard him talking on the phone, so she cracked the door an inch. He sat with his back to her, looking out the window, caught up in his conversation.

“I’m glad you liked her, Fifi, and I’m glad we’ll be doing business together . . . Yeah, she definitely has good ideas . . . No, I don’t think she can get you Sting. We’re leaving that feat up to you. But Samantha definitely knows what she’s doing.”

Sam got a lump in her throat. That was high praise from Nate and it made her a little emotional. She’d obviously come a long way in his eyes.
And he loved her
.

“Well, she’s definitely got that going for her,” Nate continued. “Being a Dunsbury certainly has its privileges—and connections.” There was a long pause. “No question her name will add gravitas to your event. Are you kidding? Why do you think I put her on the job?” He laughed, and as if suddenly sensing he wasn’t alone, turned his chair, catching a glimpse of Sam in the doorway. “Hey, Fifi, I have to go.”

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he said to Sam by way of a greeting. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you get my note . . . the flowers?”

“Is that why you gave me Fifi’s event, because I’m a Dunsbury?” Sam said, stunned.

“It impressed her, so why not?”

“Why not?” She jerked her head back and blinked back tears. “Because you were using me . . . my name . . . my connections.” Just like Royce had. She heard his mocking voice in her head:
The dumb cow is nothing more than a for-show wife.

“You gave me the assignment because my social status impressed Fifi, not because of my abilities. I’m just a token,” she said, and spun on her heels, running out of the inn.

She needed to get out of there, to be alone where she could cry and no one would see her shame. So Sam got in her car and drove away, just like she’d done in New York. After Royce. This time, however, she only made it as far as the Nevada County line before turning back to Nugget. Back to her house in the woods, where she could spend the rest of the afternoon under the covers, like she should’ve done in the first place.

But when she got home, Nate was sitting on her front porch. She thought about pulling away, but was nearly out of gas and didn’t feel like running into anyone she knew at the Gas and Go. On her way out of the car, her heel caught on the hem of her pants and she had to grab for the door to keep from falling on her face. Graceful.

She marched up the stairs, where he’d made himself comfortable in her Colin rocker with his feet propped up on the railing.

Nate stood up. “Please tell me what I did wrong.”

“If you don’t know, we have nothing to talk about.” She pressed the code into her keypad and started to go inside when he held the door closed.

“I get it,” he said. “I tell you that I’m falling for you, so you drum up some ridiculous offense to give you an excuse to run. Just like you did with what’s-his-face.”

She pointedly glared at his hand, flicked it away, went inside her house, and slammed the door in his face.

He pounded on it. “Come on, Sam, talk to me.”

“Please go,” she called through the door. She watched through her window as he paced the porch, then finally got in his car and drove away.

The man had used her pedigree to get business for his hotel. He’d traded on her name. All along, she’d thought that Nate had assigned her the job because of her capabilities and competence. Because she had the grit to clean up Tracy’s mess. She thought he believed in her. But he’d dangled her in front of Fifi Reinhardt like a shiny party favor.

Here’s a Dunsbury
.
She’ll impress your rich friends and bring in big donors.

No wonder Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis had chosen publishing as her vocation. She’d got to lock herself in a room to read book proposals all day, instead of exposing herself to the vultures. How could Nate do this to her? How could he tell her that he loved her? It was like déjà vu.

Apparently she was nothing more than a for-show event planner, too.

 

“Sam in yet?” Nate asked when he arrived at work the next morning. He’d passed her office on his way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, but her door was closed. After a good night’s sleep, he figured he could talk some sense into her.

“She called in sick,” Brady said, and handed Nate a plate of coffee cake. Nate loved Brady’s coffee cake, but today he had no appetite.

“I think there’s something going around.” Brady gave him a pointed glance and passed the cream.

Yeah, she had the avian flu and was getting ready to fly right out of Nugget—and his life. Nate knew it. As soon as things had started getting hot and heavy between them, she’d concocted the ludicrous drama about him using her to get Fifi’s business. A: He wanted Fifi’s business, but he didn’t need it bad enough to put Sam in a bad position. B: He would never intentionally hurt Sam—he loved the woman, for God’s sake. C: It was bullshit. Fifi was impressed with the fact that Samantha was a Dunsbury. So what? Who better to help plan a fund-raiser for the opera than a big-time philanthropist for the arts? Someone who knew exactly what high-society guests would expect from a function like this. Even Randall, who’d been with him since the beginning, didn’t have her background for this kind of event.

But that’s not why he’d given her the project. He’d given it to her because the damn party was scheduled for September and she was the most competent person on his event staff to pull it off. After he saw what she’d done at Emily’s wedding, he was 100 percent sold. Hell, he’d been prepared to make her the vice president of event planning for Breyer Hotels in a few more months.

Clearly, however, she was pulling a Kayla and was just looking for an excuse to pull the plug. On him and the Lumber Baron. The sad part was that he’d known better but he’d still fallen for her, convincing himself that it would be different this time. That she was the real deal. Well, forget her. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need her.

“If anyone wants me, I’ll be across the street getting a haircut,” Nate told Brady, then stomped across the square to Owen’s barbershop.

It was Darla’s day off, but Owen agreed to give Nate a trim. “Heard some high-tech mogul’s coming into town to stay at your inn.”

“Yeah, where did you hear that?”

“I’ve got my sources. Who is it? That Apple fellow, Steve Jobs?” Owen snapped a cape around Nate’s neck.

“You’re kidding me, right? Steve Jobs died three years ago. His death made international news.”

“I must’ve missed it,” Owen said. “Well, whoever it is, it can’t beat Della James.”

The country music star had come to Nugget last summer for a photo shoot for her cookbook—the one Emily had ghostwritten for her. People here were still talking about her temper tantrums, which were legendry in the music industry.

“Not too short,” Nate told Owen, who could get a little overzealous with the scissors.

“You’re not going to spill the beans?”

“Nothing to spill,” Nate said. Even if he told Owen that their mystery guest was Landon Lowery, the barber wouldn’t know the famous game-maker from Adam.

“You want me to clean up your neck?” Owen didn’t bother to wait for an answer, just got out the clippers. “How about Clay and Emily’s wedding? Folks here will be talking about that one for a long time. Your girl Sam did one hell of a job.”

Used to be his girl. For about ten seconds. “It was a nice wedding.”

Owen let out a low whistle. “How much you think that bar tab was? I saw folks double-fisting drinks.”

“I have no idea. You almost done?”

“Now hold your horses, boy. You want this done right, don’t you?”

Nate didn’t really care. He’d only come because he wanted to get out of the Lumber Baron, away from Sam, who wasn’t even there. Home, sick, his ass. But maybe he should cruise by her house just to make sure. God, he was an idiot.

“Griffin got himself another tow truck,” Owen said. The man talked in non sequiturs. “Waste of money, if you ask me. He’d be better off investing in a snow plow. But I suppose if the roads are clear, there won’t be as many vehicles getting stuck, which would put his tow business under.”

“I’m sure it’s a huge conspiracy.” Nate didn’t know why he was taking out his foul mood on Owen. Most of the time he sort of enjoyed the guy.

“So I hear you and Lucky Rodriguez are in cahoots.” Owen made it sound like they were planning bank heists.

“We’re working together on a couple of joint packages.” No need to get into details. Now that Sam was leaving, who knew what would come of their barn-wedding plans.

“Interesting how he came home at the same time as Raylene, isn’t it?”

“Who’s Raylene?” Nate asked, only mildly interested.

“Little gal from the Rock and River Ranch. Used to be the toast of Nugget. Head cheerleader, homecoming queen, Plumas County Rodeo Queen. She married some rich fellow up in Denver. Word is that he cheated on her with her best friend and she drove his Escalade into the swimming pool.”

“Nice.”

“Years ago, there was a scandal at the Rock and River, something involving Lucky. Some people say he shot a ranch hand for molesting Raylene.” Nate suspected that was a crock, but folks here loved their drama. “Whatever it was,” Owen continued, “Lucky blew out of town the next day. Only came back to visit his mama. Until now, of course, when he comes moseying back to Nugget at the same time as Raylene.”

“He bought property here, Owen. He’s doing tons of work at the old Roland camp. It’s not exactly like he just
moseyed
into town. Escrow, construction, that kind of stuff requires planning.”

“An awful big coincidence if you ask me.”

Whatever. Nate didn’t know why he got caught up in town gossip. Half of it was wrong and the other half was nobody’s business. “He’s probably here to dig up the ranch hand’s corpse before Raylene goes to the authorities. You and the rest of the Nugget Mafia ought to stake out the place. There might be a reward.”

Owen muttered something about Nate being a smart aleck and used a fat brush to wipe the hairs from his neck. He took off the cape. “You’re done.”

On Nate’s way back to the Lumber Baron he bumped into Rhys in front of the police station. “How’s it going?” Nate said, and looked at his watch as if he was in a big hurry. He wasn’t in the mood for chewing the fat with his brother-in-law. He was actually hoping that Sam had gotten over whatever ailment she supposedly had and had come to work.

“All’s quiet on the Western front,” Rhys said.

“Good to hear,” Nate said, and started for the inn.

“Hey, come into my office for a few minutes.” Rhys held the door to the police station open, motioning for Nate to follow him in.

“Uh . . . I’ve got a thing back at the Lumber Baron,” Nate said.

“You can spare a few minutes for family.” When Rhys put it that way, there wasn’t much Nate could do but go inside.

“Hi, Connie,” Nate said to the police dispatcher whose desk sat right near the door.

She pointed at her headset to let him know that someone was talking to her and, without missing a beat, got up and poured him a cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” he whispered, to which she nodded her head.

He went into Rhys’s office and took a chair. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just thought we should have some quality time together.” Rhys flashed him a smart-ass smile.

Nate shook his head. “Why? You dying?”

Rhys sailed a dart across the room and hit a bull’s-eye on the board. “Other than buying real estate with my wife, we haven’t seen too much of you lately.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With a certain redhead?” Rhys cocked his brows.

“No. She’s no longer talking to me.”

“Why? You put gum in her hair? Why don’t you two just sleep with each other and get it over with?” Rhys nudged his head at Nate. “What’s this deal I hear about you and Lucky Rodriguez putting on barn weddings at his place?”

“Nothing set in stone,” Nate said, because he didn’t know where the deal stood without Sam. “Why? You’ve got a problem with it?”

“Not at all. I told you, I like the guy. It just seems like you’re taking on a lot, especially with Gold Mountain. Maddy says your chief event planner left.”

“Yeah. I may have to restructure things.”

“The chef working out okay?” Rhys kicked his boots up on the desk.

“Brady?” He was about the only employee working out right now. “So far, so good.”

Connie knocked and popped her head into Rhys’s office. “We’ve got a 2-11 on Freedom Ranch Road. A chicken coop.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. It’s Leonard stealing eggs again.”

“You want me to send Wyatt?” Connie asked.

“Nah, I’ll take it.” Rhys grabbed his keys off a hook behind his desk.

Nate smirked. “Glad we could have this talk.”

“I’ll catch you later.”

Nate followed his brother-in-law outside and watched him jog to a police SUV and peel off with his lights flashing. Apparently egg theft was a big emergency in Nugget. He walked back across the square to the inn and wandered down the hall to his office. Still no sign of Sam. But his flowers were still on her desk.