The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3) (17 page)

Heather shook her head. “He can’t bear to think about me. I broke up with Austin before I was with Colt, but we both still felt like we were doing something wrong. And then their father died all of a sudden. It was so awful. Colt felt like it was his fault—like if he hadn’t been with me, it wouldn’t have happened. It makes no sense but it’s all tangled up together, our sneaking around and his father’s death. When they left Chance Creek and I found out I was pregnant, I never told anyone who the father was. Colt doesn’t even know.”

“Why haven’t you told him?”

“His unit is on some kind of a mission and he can’t communicate with anyone. We don’t know when he’ll be in touch again. When he is back online, I’m going to try something a little devious.”

They had reached the town, and Storm broke in to tell her she was going to Mandy’s. “What are you going to try?”

“You know about the wife wanted ad, of course—the one Mason put up for all of them?”

“Yes.” Zane had told her about that, although the one Kenna had answered was apparently a different one he’d written himself.

“I’m going to answer his with a fake name. I’m going to try to make him fall in love with me again.”

Misgivings filled Storm. “Is that a good idea?”

“I don’t know.” Heather pulled into a parking space in front of the store. “It’s the only idea I’ve got.”

“You could tell him the truth.”

“I don’t think so. Not if I want to stand a chance.”

“Well, good luck then. I really hope it goes the way you want it to.”

“I hope so, too.” She peered out the truck’s windshield at the store. “This is yours now?”

“For the time being, at least. I hope to have it up and running soon.”

“Let me know if you need any help.”

“I will.” Storm climbed out and shut the door behind her, still thinking about Heather’s situation. As she fumbled with her purse, looking for her key, Belinda came around the corner. “Hi, Belinda,” Storm called, finally locating her key ring. She pulled it out and unlocked the door. “Are you coming in?”

Belinda came closer. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

“Why not?”

“Because of the way Darren behaved last night. I wasn’t there,” she went on, “but I heard all about it. How he got Steel to hit on you.”

“He got Steel to do that?” Storm was bewildered by all the undercurrents in the relationships around her. She thought back to the night before. Realized she couldn’t remember exactly how the fight had started. “I just thought Steel was drunk.”

“I’m sure he was. Those Coopers are a handful at the best of times. I wish they’d never moved back to town.”

“Well, I don’t hold you accountable for anything Steel or Darren did.” She led the way inside. “What does Darren think about you working here?” The mustiness of the store washed over her as always and she wrinkled her nose. “Let’s keep the door open for now and see if there are any windows we can open too. It’ll be cool, but it’s a nice day and at least it will smell better.”

“Should we go back to sorting clothes?”

Storm nodded.

“Darren doesn’t know I’m working here.” Belinda made a face. “You must think my husband is awful. Even his own wife lies to him.”

“I don’t know Darren. I’m sure you have a good reason for not telling him.” Storm hoped that was diplomatic enough. From everything she’d heard and seen she couldn’t imagine why Belinda put up with the man.

“Darren was always wild. I was too,” Belinda confessed. “We both got pegged as troublemakers when we were young and now we can’t seem to get past it. I love our kids, I really do, but with five of them we’re always scraping by. For years I couldn’t work outside the house because we couldn’t afford daycare. Now that they’re in school, I have no skills.”

“It’ll get better, I’m sure.” The words sounded trite to her own ears. Her phone chimed, but when she pulled it out, she saw it was Mia Matheson and she let it go to voice mail.

“I don’t know. Darren’s in construction and that’s not such a great line of work these days. And with his reputation it’s hard to get jobs. He’ll show up somewhere and the foreman will say, ‘I remember that time you ran your truck right into a ditch.’” She held up her hands. “That happened when Darren was sixteen. He’s never been in another accident.”

“That’s rough.” Storm had lived all her life in Santa Cruz, a medium-sized town on its own, but it was surrounded with other towns and larger cities, so there was always a stream of new people moving through. Funny how she’d had the same experience, though, getting stuck living at home to keep her mother happy, and having her self-esteem undercut daily by the way Kenna treated her. It occurred to her now that she could have chosen to surround herself with other people—new people who might have supported her own goals. People who didn’t know about her past and so held no expectations for her future.

Like the people here.

She turned that thought over in her mind. It was true; they’d heard she was a mountain climber, but they hadn’t formed a strong opinion of who she was or what she was capable of. She could be anything she wanted to be. She looked around the store. She could transform this place into anything she wanted it to be, too. She touched a rack of clothing, letting the cool metal rod assure her this was all real.

“You can change. So can Darren,” she said aloud. “It’s harder when you’re surrounded by people who’ve always known you, but you can do it.”

“You think so?” Belinda sounded interested.

“I’m sure of it.”

‡

W
hen his phone
chimed, Zane leaned his pitchfork against Jasper’s stall wall and fished it out of his pocket. Heloise. Just what he needed.

He knew his aunt wasn’t to be ignored, though, so he accepted the call and held the phone to his ear. “How’s my favorite aunt?”

“Cut the baloney,” she snapped. “You’ve got a problem.”

“What problem?”

Mason, passing through, stopped to listen. “What’s wrong?”

Zane waved him off, then rolled his eyes when Austin appeared, too. The only thing worse than dealing with an angry Heloise was dealing with her with an audience.

“Just how well do you know that fiancée of yours?”

Zane’s stomach sunk. Could Heloise have discovered their trick? Which wasn’t a trick anymore as far as he was concerned. “Well enough. Why?”

“I doubt you know her as well as you think you do. Either that or you’re pulling a fast one on me. Which is it?”

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you think
you
know, Heloise. I don’t have time for games. I’ve got shit to scoop.”

“Don’t get crude with me, young man.”

“Spill it, Heloise.”

“Fine. I’ll spill it. Kenna North is currently in Nepal climbing some mountain called Lhotse.” She spelled it out. “So who is that woman living with you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Where are you getting this stuff?”

She huffed. “There’s this new-fangled thing called the Internet. Maybe you should check it out. I don’t appreciate being made a fool of. If you’ve tried to pull a fast one, this deal is off. Darren was telling me just the other day he would love to inherit Crescent Hall.” She cut the call, leaving Zane to stare at his phone in bewilderment.

“What was that all about?” Mason said.

“She said… it makes no sense.”

“What did she say?”

“Kenna—Storm—is in Nepal on a climbing expedition. She saw it on the Internet.”

Both his brothers stared at him.

“If Kenna’s in Nepal, then who are you engaged to?” Austin demanded.

“I don’t know. Kenna! Storm. Whoever she is. Heloise must have gotten it wrong.” But worry still twisted his gut. Could Storm be an imposter? Why would she pose as someone else? He remembered the photograph—the one that barely looked like her and a chill raced down his spine. Had she been lying to him this whole time?

“Her arms,” Mason broke in suddenly. “It’s always bothered me. It’s fall, so she usually wears long sleeves, but when she rolls them up she’s not muscular enough.”

“She’s way too small,” Austin agreed. “She couldn’t pull her weight on an expedition. Mason’s right. If she was a climber, she’d be muscle all over.”

Zane was staggered by the way they were echoing the doubts that plagued his own mind. He knew Storm’s body better than anyone. Why hadn’t he thought about her lack of muscle-tone? Was it because he wanted so badly to believe her story? “Then who is she?”

“You met her online, right?” Mason said.

He nodded.

“She could be anyone. It’s not like you checked her ID.”

Hope pierced through Zane. “Yes, I did.” At his brothers’ startled looks he went on. “Not me, exactly. But the man who married us did.” When Austin’s eyebrows shot up, he took a deep breath and spilled it all. “We were wed at the Chance Creek county courthouse right before I brought her to meet you.”

“Why?” Mason asked.

“Because…” He trailed off. The earth tilted a fraction beneath his feet as he remembered what Storm had said. She wasn’t sure she could carry off the deception that they were marrying for real.

“Hey,” Austin said. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” But he wasn’t sure that was true. He felt like his favorite horse had just kicked him in the ribs. Storm had wanted to be sure she could leave Chance Creek at any time. Was that because she was afraid of being found out?

His brothers were still watching him and he knew he had to come clean. What happened now affected all of them. “I couldn’t find a wife,” he began and told them everything.

Storm noticed that
today Belinda had made more of an effort with her appearance. She still wore jeans and boots, but her top was a trendy blouse and her hair was done up with a scarf tied around it to hide most of her roots. Her makeup was as impeccable as ever and she worked so efficiently Storm thought she had the makings of a terrific employee—and maybe owner someday, if things fell apart and Storm left on schedule after Thanksgiving.

She didn’t like thinking about that, so she got to work taking down the musty old curtains that framed the wide front window. She ran down to the grocery store, stocked up on cleaning supplies and scrubbed all the glass until it shone. Belinda kept working on sorting the clothes. She was doing a good job of it.

“That’s much better,” Belinda said an hour later, surveying Storm’s handiwork. “It was like being in a tomb before.”

“The curtains held in the smell, too. I bet this carpet isn’t much better.” The color—a dingy brown—was certainly horrendous. She moved to a corner and pried up a bit. “Oh my gosh—there’s hardwood underneath it.”

“I’m not surprised.” Belinda didn’t even come to see. “All the older shops in this part of town had wooden floors back in the day.”

Storm had a flash of how the store could look with gleaming floors, a fresh coat of paint on the walls and light streaming in all over. She could do this—she could provide Chance Creek with a terrific women’s clothing store.

She caught sight of Belinda watching her. “What?”

“You just lit up like a Christmas tree.”

Storm grinned. “That’s because this place is going to be fantastic.”

Belinda rolled her eyes. “I could have told you that.”

Storm pulled the carpet back some more. It came away from the floor with a satisfying rip.

“Are you going to take that up right now?”

“I want to.” She looked around the room and took in all the racks of clothing sitting on top of the carpet. “I guess I can’t though. Not until our sale.”

“When are we going to start the sale?”

“As soon as possible,” Storm decided. “Maybe next week.”

Belinda took a deep breath. “Okay.” She didn’t sound pleased, though. Storm realized Darren was the problem. As soon as they opened, people would see her and gossip would get back to him.

“Do you want me to put it off a few days?”

“No.” Belinda waved that off. “I have to tell him sometime, I guess.” She obviously wasn’t looking forward to it. Storm wondered if she’d still have a helper after Belinda did. Would Darren prevent his wife from working here?

They got back to work and by noontime they’d made a lot of progress. Belinda would need to leave in a minute, but she had just taken an armful of clothes they meant to keep into the back room when the front door swung open and Zane walked in, looking like thunder.

Storm stopped, arms deep in a pile of unfashionable jeans she was moving to a nearby rack. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.” He scanned the store. “What are you doing with all of this stuff?”

“I’m going to have a tag sale next week,” she said, frowning at his tone. “I want to clear everything out and start over with up-to-date merchandise.”

He spotted the corner where she’d torn away the carpet. Crossed to it. “What happened here?”

“That’s hardwood underneath. I’m planning to rip up the carpet and refinish it.”

“Oh, yeah?” He glanced around again. “What else are you going to do?”

Why did he sound so angry? A tendril of fear wound its way through her. “I’ll paint the walls, of course,” she said slowly. “Something lighter. Brighten up the place. These sales racks need to be moved, too.”