McFarlane's Perfect Bride (5 page)

Inside, they found Butch Doolin sitting at the cluttered kitchen table in a T-shirt and a ragged pair of sweatpants. His bloodshot eyes were puffy from too much alcohol the day before and he sported a couple of days' worth of dark beard.

But he had a cup of coffee in front of him—no liquor in sight. He looked hungover, but sober.

And more than a little surprised to see Jerilyn, her teacher and some man he'd never met before standing
in the doorway to his living room. “Jerilyn? What's going on?”

Tori's dad stepped right up. “I'm Sherwood Jones, Mr. Doolin. We're here to see if we can help.”

Butch frowned. “Help?” And then he slowly shook his head. He turned to Jerilyn and spoke with weary resignation. “Sweet girl, what have you been up to?”

Jerilyn put her hand over her mouth, swallowed hard, and then let her hand drop. “Daddy. I saw that warning letter. You're going to lose your job. I had to do something. You can't keep on like this.”

Tori had never seen a man so shamed as Butch Doolin was right then. He hung his head. “Sweet girl, I'm so sorry. So damn sorry. I don't know what to do, how to keep going. Without your mother, it all seems so pointless…” His big shoulders shook.

Jerilyn would have gone to him. But Tori's dad stopped her. He tipped his head back the way they had come. “You two go ahead,” he said low. “Let me talk to him for a while.” He tossed Tori the keys to the rental car. “I'll call you…”

Tori took Jerilyn's hand and led her back out through the small, dim living room. They returned to Tori's house to wait. Time crawled by. Tori offered dinner, but Jerilyn only shook her head.

Finally, at a little after seven, Tori's dad called for them to come and get him. Sherwood Jones was waiting for them out in front when they got to Jerilyn's again.

Jerilyn jumped out. “My dad? Is he…?”

Tori got out, too, and came around to join them on the cracked sidewalk.

“Your dad is okay. And I think he's going to be a lot better, Jerilyn,” Tori's dad said. “I think he's ready to
get help. We talked for a long time. He poured out all the booze in the house and he'll be going to regular AA meetings. Plus I've given him the names of a few good counselors he can choose from, as well as a local grief recovery group. And he has my number. I'm always available to him if he needs me.” He gave Jerilyn a card. “And I'm available for you, as well. You can call me here, directly, if there's anything you want to ask me. And especially if you find yourself worried about him again.”

“You really think he's going to get better?”

“I do. Sincerely. It's not going to be easy, but I think you'll see a definite improvement now.”

Jerilyn let out a low cry and grabbed Tori's father in a hug. “Thank you, oh, thank you.”

He hugged her back. “Call me if you need help. I mean that.”

Then Tori offered Jerilyn that dinner she hadn't accepted before, but she was eager to go in, to talk to her dad. She grabbed Tori close, quickly let her go and turned for the house.

Tori remembered the picnic tomorrow. “Wait. I almost forgot. You're invited to a picnic at the Hopping H tomorrow.”

“Will CJ be there?” The sad dark eyes were suddenly brighter.

“Yeah. But I'm sure he'll understand, if you'd rather—”

Jerilyn put up a hand. “Please. I want to go. My bike's at your house. Can you pick me up?”

Tori named a time and Jerilyn said she would be ready.

As Tori and her dad got back in the rental, she offered, “Hungry?”

Her dad shook his head. “Butch gave me a sandwich. And I need to get to Bozeman. There's a flight to Denver at ten to nine.”

They drove back to Tori's house.

“That's one shiny SUV,” her dad said when he pulled to a stop behind the expensive vehicle. “And there's a man on your porch.”

Tori glanced over and saw Connor sitting on her top step, wearing pricey jeans, expensive boots and a dark-colored knit shirt. The sight of him caused her heart to do a happy somersault inside her chest. Which was ridiculous.
And
physically impossible. “It's Connor. He's…a friend,” she said, sounding absurdly breathless. Connor rose and came down the steps. She added, “I'll introduce you to him, Dad.”

Connor was already at her side door. She rolled her window down. He was smiling. But his eyes were cool. Maybe he wasn't all that happy about watching her drive up with a strange man.

“Hey,” he said. “I got worried about you.”

“Connor, this is my father, Dr. Sherwood Jones.”

Suddenly, his dark eyes had warmth in them again. “Dr. Jones. Hello.”

Her dad stuck his arm across the seat. “Good to meet you, Connor.” Connor put out his hand, too. Tori leaned out of the way so they could shake.

Then Sherwood gunned the engine. “I hate to run off. But I have to get a move on or I'll miss that last flight. And while your stepmother is a very understanding woman, she insists I save Sundays for her and the boys.”

Tori leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime.”

“Kiss Lucille and hug my brothers for me.”

“Will do.”

Connor opened her door for her and she got out. With a final wave, Tori's dad drove off.

She felt Connor's hand settle at her waist. A little thrill went through her at the contact. She chided him, “I said I would call.”

“I should be more patient, I know.”

“Yes, you should. Especially considering that we've only had one date.”

“Two, if you count tomorrow.”

She laughed. “It's not tomorrow yet.” And then she confessed, “I'm glad you're here.”

“Me, too.” He pulled her closer to his side. “What was that all about?”

She looked up into those beautiful eyes of his and wanted to trust him—even if he
was
a shark. “I'm starving.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?”

“Probably. But right now, I want to eat.”

“You want to go out?”

“You know, you're sneaking in a third date on me and we haven't even gotten through the second one yet.”

“It's true. That's exactly what I'm doing. We could go to—”

She didn't let him finish. “No. I've got some stuffed shells in the fridge. And I'll make a salad. You want pasta?”

“I ate with CJ. But if you twisted my arm, I'd have a little something.”

“Jerilyn will be coming with us tomorrow.”

“Terrific. I wasn't looking forward to telling CJ otherwise.”

They went up the walk together, circling Jerilyn's bike when they got to it. Tori made a mental note to take it up to the porch before she went to bed.

Inside, Connor pushed the front door shut behind them and caught her hand when she would have headed straight for the kitchen.

“Wait a minute…” His warm, strong arms came around her.

“Oh, Connor…”

“Shh.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

It was a beautiful kiss. Slow, lazy, gradually deepening. His arms felt so good around her and her body seemed to hum in response to him, as if she were somehow tuned to him—to his touch, to his strong body pressed so close to hers, to his lips that were doing magical things to hers. Even to the scent of him, which was clean and so manly. He tasted of mint. And of heat. She never wanted to pull away.

But she did. “Dinner. I mean it.”

In the kitchen, she warmed up the giant herb-and-cheese stuffed pasta shells and put a salad together. He ate two shells and two pieces of garlic bread. She sat across from him at her breakfast nook table and couldn't believe how comfortable it felt having him there.

Comfortable. And kind of thrilling. Both at the same time.

Was that good?

Or just plain dangerous? The last thing she needed was to fall for Connor McFarlane, who would wreak havoc up at the resort, cause people to lose
their livelihoods—and then go back east before the first snow.

“Does Melanie know you're planning to take over the resort?”

He set down his fork. “The shells were really good. And who says I'm planning to take over the resort?”

“Well, if you were—and she didn't know—that might not be such a great thing for your relationship with her, that you might be doing something that affects her community and you haven't even bothered to tell her. I mean, if you're not going tell me, you at least should tell
her
what you're up to, don't you think?”

He had picked up his water glass. But he set it down without taking a drink. “Yes,” he said blandly. “I suppose, if I were planning a buyout of the resort, that maybe I ought to tell my sister what I have in mind.”

“Will you, then? Will you tell her?”

He only gazed at her, his face a mask, unreadable.

Suddenly, she was furious with him. But why?

Self-preservation, maybe. She could still feel the warm, exciting pressure of his lips on hers, still remember the thrill of his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Really, she was much too attracted for her own peace of mind.

She said, too softly, “You want me to tell you what happened this afternoon, to trust you with something that's private to someone I care about, but you won't even tell me honestly whether you're thinking of buying out the resort or not.”

He took his napkin from his lap, wiped his mouth, and slid it in beside his plate. “All right, Tori.”

“All right, what?”

“I can see this is an ultimatum.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to. It's all over your face, clear in your voice.”

“Look. The word is out that you're sniffing around the resort. People aren't blind around here. And if I'm going to be spending more time with you, I want to know the truth. I can live with this thing between us ending when the fall comes. But I can't live with you lying to me.”

“I haven't lied to you.”

“By omission, yes. You have. I want to know for certain. I
need
to know—at least, I do if we're going to keep dating.”

“Why do you need to know? What possible good will the information do?”

She considered his question. And she answered truthfully. “It's about honesty, Connor. It's about basic trust. Are you hoping to buy out the resort, yes or no?”

A silence. A long one. And then, finally, “I would need to know ahead of time that you would keep what I tell you to yourself.”

“Uh-uh. No way. Is there some reason it has to be a secret—especially considering that everybody already knows anyway? I mean, come on. You talk about how you want to change things in your life, with your son. With your sister. Maybe being straight in your business dealings wouldn't be such a bad idea, either. I'm not saying you have to tell me all the diabolical details of your takeover plan. I'm just saying why deny what you're after when everyone knows your denial is a big, fat lie anyway?”

He arched a brow. “Diabolical?”

She waved a hand. “Sorry. That was a little over the top. But still, you know what I mean.”

He refused to give in. “As a rule, it's not a good idea to show your hand, even if the player across from you already knows you have aces.”

“We're talking about people's lives, Connor, not a card game.”

He pushed back his chair and stood. “This conversation is going nowhere.”

She knew he was right. They were arguing in circles. She said gently, “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Good night.” His voice was soft, his eyes troubled.

“Good night, Connor.”

He went out through the great room. She heard the front door open and close. And a minute or two after that, she heard the SUV start up and drive away.

She sat there at the table for a long time after he left her, feeling sad and weepy—but refusing to cry. Connor McFarlane was not the man for her. She had to accept that. It was better that he had left, that his thing between them went no further. Getting into it with him would only lead to hurt and heartbreak.

Alone at the table, she nodded to herself and swallowed down the lump of tears that clogged her throat. Yes. Really. It was better that he was gone.

C
onnor was halfway back to his rented house, feeling like crap, trying to come to grips with the fact that his enjoyable summer with Tori Jones was over before it had even begun, when he realized that he'd left her without canceling their plans for tomorrow.

At the house, after spending a few minutes in CJ's room, watching him play his endless video game, he went to his own room. He took a shower and sat in front of the television, channel-surfing with the sound down, paying very little attention to the images that flashed in front of his eyes.

He kept reliving what it felt like to hold her in his arms. He'd been really looking forward to doing that again, and frequently. And he'd done some serious fantasizing over what it was going to be like the first time
they made love. It would probably be really good, if the chemistry between them was any indication.

Maybe she would call and tell him formally that she wouldn't be coming to the picnic tomorrow. Maybe he ought to call her.

But the phone didn't ring. And he decided it would be easier just to go ahead and proceed as planned tomorrow. At worst, she would call it off when he and CJ came to pick her and Jerilyn up. He could live with that.

And if she decided to go through with it, well, he could stand that, too. It would be awkward, yes, but at least CJ would be happy to have some time with the girl he liked.

In the morning, Connor had breakfast with CJ and then went to his study to look over some paperwork from the main office. The phone rang at eleven. He jumped at the sound.

But it was only his father, making the usual demands, that he come back to Philly immediately, to stay. That, if he insisted on doing the resort deal, he get on it and get it over with.

Connor made noncommittal noises and told his dad to give his mother his love.

An hour later, he and CJ left the house.

“You okay, Dad?” CJ asked him as they drove the quiet Sunday streets on the way to Tori's house.

Connor almost ran a red light. It was the first time in the past year or so that his son had expressed the slightest interest in him or anything he might be doing or thinking.

It was a clear sign that he was actually making progress with the boy. He should have been ecstatic.

And he was. But the thrill was muted by the
knowledge that whatever progress he was making with CJ was mostly due to the excellent advice of a certain strawberry-blonde schoolteacher. And then there was also the possibility that whatever gains he'd made would be lost if Jerilyn was not at Tori's house when they got there, if Tori had decided to call the afternoon off.

Really, he should have discussed the picnic with her before he walked out on her last night. Or called her later.

But he hadn't. And now he was stuck with having no clue what would happen when they got to her house.

Bright move, McFarlane.

He pushed his dark thoughts away and sent his son a warm glance. “Thanks, I'm okay.”

“You're really quiet.”

“Just…thoughtful, I guess.”

At Tori's house, the bicycle that had been on the front walk the evening before was propped up on the porch. But other than that, everything looked just as it had last night. He still had no clue whether Tori and Jerilyn were coming with them, or not.

CJ jumped out of the car and was halfway up the walk before Connor got out and followed him. It was CJ who rang the doorbell. Connor was just climbing the steps when the door opened.

Tori, in jeans, boots and a cute, snug Western shirt, grinned at CJ. “Right on time.”

Relief, sweet as cool water on a hot day, poured through Connor. They were going. He'd never been so pleased about anything in his life.

Jerilyn, also in jeans, peered over Tori's shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hey,” CJ replied, his voice cracking on the
single syllable. He cleared his throat and said it again. “Hey.”

Tori's gaze shifted to meet Connor's. She gave him a careful smile and a nod. He did the same.

“I packed a basket,” she said. “Some cheese and fruit, some whole-wheat crackers. Some juice…”

Jerilyn pulled a face. “All totally healthy,” she added. And she and CJ groaned in unison.

“Ready to go?” Connor asked.

“Yes, we are,” Tori replied, her gaze sliding away from his. “I'll get the basket and we can be on our way.”

His relief that she wasn't backing out on him faded. He could see the day stretching endlessly out ahead of them. A day of careful smiles and sliding glances, of unacknowledged tension.

But there was nothing else to do but gut it up and get through it. The muscles in his shoulders knotting, he turned and went back down the steps toward the waiting SUV.

 

It was a good day, the sky clear and blue, with only a few fluffy white clouds gliding slowly toward the west.

Russ had horses picked out and tacked up for each of them. Connor, who had learned to ride six years before when he opened McFarlane House Louisville at a former horse ranch, got a big palomino mare. Tori got a handsome bay gelding. CJ's gray seemed calm and steady-natured, as did Jerilyn's blue roan. Russ, Melanie and Ryan all rode the horses they favored for everyday riding at the Hopping H and at Russ's original ranch, the Flying J, which abutted the H.

Melanie had pack saddles full of food and drinks. She tucked the stuff Tori had brought in with the rest, and they rode out.

In a wide, rolling pasture dotted with wildflowers, they spread a couple of blankets. Melanie and Tori put out the food. They ate as the hobbled horses cropped the grass nearby.

The kids were finished with lunch in no time. They wandered off to explore, CJ and Jerilyn side by side, Ryan happily trailing along behind.

The grown-ups chatted about casual stuff. Melanie said she and Russ were turning a nice profit with the guest ranch. Russ talked about buying more land. Connor dared to kid him that if he didn't watch out, he'd become a land baron. Russ laughed and said maybe he would. His easy response pleased Connor. He was making progress healing the early breach with his cowboy brother-in-law.

Tori mentioned some Outward Bound–type program, ROOTS, that a local woman, Haley Anderson, was trying to start up in a storefront in town. Melanie said she was so happy for Haley, to have found the right place for ROOTS at last.

And then Melanie wanted to know if Tori had met Erin Castro, who was new in town and apparently going around asking questions about the Cateses, the Cliftons and the Traubs.

Tori frowned. “No. I haven't met her.”

Russ said, “Grant told me that woman started in on him at the Hitching Post. She had a thousand and one questions.”

Connor remembered the blonde woman he'd spoken to at the bar at DJ's. “I met her at the summer kickoff
barbecue. She introduced herself.” He described their brief conversation.

Russ grunted. “She's up to something…”

“But what?” Melanie wondered aloud.

Russ added, “Grant said she has this tattered yellowed newspaper clipping, a picture of some old-time gathering of—”

“Let me guess.” Connor predicted, “The Cateses, the Cliftons and the Traubs.”

“You got it.”

“Maybe she's writing a tell-all,” Tori suggested lightly. “The secrets of Thunder Canyon, Montana, revealed.”

“She better watch herself,” Russ muttered darkly. “Folks around here don't like strangers poking in their private business.”

And the conversation moved on.

Connor didn't say much to Tori. She returned the favor. He didn't think his sister or her husband even noticed that they kept their distance from each other and avoided eye contact.

He couldn't help glancing Tori's way, though, when he thought no one was looking. She was so pretty, strawberry-blond hair shining in the sun, her skin like cream. There was something about her, even beyond her fresh good looks, something that drew him. He couldn't explain it, and he certainly didn't understand it. It just
was,
like the blue sky above, the wide, rolling pasture below.

And it's going nowhere, so get over it,
the voice of wisdom within advised.

The kids wandered in and out of their view, sometimes disappearing into a small stand of pines on a ridge to the northeast, sometimes coming near, but then
turning to head off in a different direction before they got too close to the adults. Their laughter and chatter rang out across the rolling field.

Once, when they were all three in sight, near a weathered fence that separated the pasture from the next one over, Melanie got up. “Time to talk a little business.” She set off toward the three by the fence.

“Business?” Tori glanced at Connor—and then apparently caught herself actually looking at him. Her gaze slid away.

Russ, stretched out on his back, with his hat over his eyes, said lazily, “Connor's decided it's not a bad idea if CJ does a little honest work this summer.”

Tori sent Connor another swift glance. What? She was surprised that he'd taken her advice.

He gave a curt nod and looked away.

Russ, still with his hat over his eyes, continued, “He and Red agreed that she should make the offer.” According to Melanie, Russ had always called her Red. Even back when she didn't like it in the least. Now, though, it was his pet name for her.

Melanie had reached the three teenagers. Connor—and Tori, too, he noticed out of the corner of his eye—watched as the scene played out. Melanie spoke.

CJ instantly started shaking his head, backing away. It looked like a no-go.

But then Jerilyn said something. Melanie nodded and offered her hand. The girl took it.

And then CJ spoke up again. Melanie turned to him and said something. He nodded. And Melanie shook
his
hand.

Ryan shot a fist in the air and they heard him exclaim, “Yes!”

Russ lifted his hat enough to glance toward the scene by the old fence. “Mission accomplished, if you ask me.”

“Looks that way,” Connor agreed. “Your wife is amazing.”

“She certainly is.” Russ spoke with deep satisfaction. Then he put his hat back over his eyes and let his head drop to the blanket again.

Melanie returned to them. Connor thought she looked sort of bemused. “CJ starts tomorrow,” she told him. “Nine to one, Monday through Thursday. I guess we'll have to take turns driving him out here—Jerilyn, too.”

“Either Gerda or I will do it, no problem.” Connor would slip his housekeeper a little extra for the inconvenience. “So you've got two new employees, then?”

“Oh, yes, I do. CJ turned me down flat. But then Jerilyn spoke up and said how she'd love to work at the Hopping H. So I offered her the job.”

Connor could guess the rest. “And then CJ suddenly changed his mind.”

“And it's great. I can put them both to work, and Ryan will love having them around.” She added, sounding bemused again, “I really do like that girl.”

Connor almost turned to share a glance with Tori, to give her a nod of acknowledgment, since what had just happened was all at her urging. But then he remembered that he and Tori were finished sharing glances.

They were finished, period.

 

As the day went by, Tori became only more certain that there really was no hope for her and Connor. The
picnic at the ranch was just one of those final obligations they both felt duty-bound to fulfill.

By Sunday evening, when Connor pulled the SUV to a stop in front of her house, she was beyond positive. It was done between them, finished. All without ever really getting started.

She tried to remind herself yet again that it was for the best. But somehow it didn't feel that way in the least.

CJ and Jerilyn jumped out first, but only to load Jerilyn's bike in the back. They would take it to her house when they dropped her off.

That left Tori and Connor momentarily alone.

She said, each word falsely bright, “Well, thank you. It was a beautiful day.”

“Yeah,” he replied without looking at her. “Great weather.”

“I'll be seeing you, then.” She leaned on the door.

He turned as the door swung wide and he looked at her. A look that burned her right down to the core. She had the impossible, overwhelming urge to leap across the console and kiss him so hard…

Uh-uh. No way. Not going to happen.

She tore her gaze free of his and got the heck out of there, somehow managing to wave goodbye to Jerilyn and CJ as they put the bike in the back of the SUV.

In the house, feeling totally bereft and hating that she felt that way, she called Allaire. But no one was home. They were probably off at some Traub family Sunday dinner. Tori hung up without leaving a message.

About then, she realized that she'd left her picnic basket in the back of Connor's SUV. It wasn't a big deal. She could get it later. Much, much later.

Or maybe he would have CJ drop it by.

It was all just too sad and depressing. She'd finally found a guy who made her heart turn somersaults, and he was a ruthless corporate shark unwilling to be straight with her.

She took a long bath and turned in early.

And at midnight she was still lying there, wide awake, telling herself that she hardly knew Connor. They'd only spent a total of maybe fifteen hours together—if you counted the picnic just that day, when they'd each been doing their level best to pretend the other didn't exist.

Really, she needed to get over this and move on. She needed to shut her eyes and get some sleep.

But sleep was not in the offing. She kept seeing his face at that last moment before she got out of the SUV, seeing the hunger there, the stark longing for what was never going to happen between them. She kept thinking that maybe she had been too uncompromising.

After all, she knew darn well he was trying to buy out the resort. His confessing the fact in so many words wouldn't make much difference in the end.