Sage Creek Page 8

  “She’s a Tanner. We usually do.”

  Sophie felt the pull of that slow, engaging grin. Was Rafe Tanner flirting with her?

  No, that was crazy. It was all in her imagination.

  Get a grip. After everything that’s happened, the last thing you need is to think about a man. Any man.

  But especially this man.

  Not that she was thinking about Rafe. She was so over him. Still, no sane woman could help feeling a little lightheaded when he was standing this close in all his handsome cowboy hotness.

  Go find Mia, she told herself, and forced herself to look away.

  To her relief, she spotted Mia Quinn hurrying straight toward them. Rafe noticed her the same time Sophie did.

  So that’s who she came here to meet. The other part of the triumvirate. Lissie, Mia, and Sophie.

  Mia hadn’t hung around the house as much as Sophie had, at least not while Rafe lived at home. She probably had been over sometimes when she dated Travis while they were both in high school, but Rafe had been away at college by then. Mia had never teamed up with Lissie and Sophie as they tormented him, dogging him whenever he wanted to sneak in some private time with a girlfriend. That was strictly Lissie and Sophie’s game.

  “I was in that fourth booth back there, Sophie, watching for you. I saw everything that happened,” Mia exclaimed, giving her a hug. “Rafe, you were awesome. Want to join us? We’re planning Lissie’s baby shower.”

  “Baby shower?” His eyebrows shot up. “Uh, no, Mia, don’t think so.” He chuckled. “As fascinating as it would be to discuss . . . whatever women discuss when they’re planning baby showers . . . I’ll have to pass. Decker’s waiting for me. He’s down in the dumps with Leigh out of town, and someone has to keep him out of trouble.”

  “You’re sure now?” Mia teased. “You’re missing out. This shower is going to be the talk of Lonesome Way.”

  “Not only that,” Sophie heard herself saying. “You could help us decide between playing Baby Bingo or Baby Bottle Guess.”

  Rafe’s gaze locked on hers. “You’re evil, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Just being polite,” she told him sweetly.

  He couldn’t seem to stop staring into those intoxicating green eyes. Especially now that they’d turned teasing. She’d been a cute kid, but oh, man. All grown up, Sophie McPhee was one luscious woman.

  Keep your distance, he told himself. For a whole slew of reasons.

  “I really hate to miss out on all the fun, ladies, but something tells me you’re going to do my little niece-to-be justice just fine without any help from me.”

  “Chicken,” Mia called after him as he strolled off across the dance floor.

  “What was that all about?” Decker asked a moment later as Rafe joined him in the booth near the dart board. “Were you hitting on Sophie McPhee? You get anywhere? Man, she looks like one of those chicks on the cover of Sports Illustrated. What were you two talking about?”

  “You don’t want to know.” Rafe leaned back in the booth as a spiky-haired brunette waitress rushed up to their table.

  They ordered beer and nachos.

  “Yeah, I do want to know.” The moment the waitress rushed off, Decker picked up right where they’d left off. “I’m a happily married man—I can only live vicariously. You need to get out there again, start seeing someone on a regular basis. You know, a relationship. She’s perfect.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “You take a vow of celibacy or something?” Decker joked and Rafe laughed. He spent time with his share of women—not running around like he had in the old days, before he married Lynelle, of course, but he did find time to date, just not seriously. And just so long as the women he spent time with knew the score. No relationship, no romance, nothing serious. Just good times and sex. Light and easy. No strings on either side.

  Sophie McPhee wasn’t the no-strings type. For one thing, she was his sister’s best friend, and though he hadn’t paid much attention, he did remember Lissie telling him that Sophie had been devastated recently by the end of her marriage. He didn’t know the details, but he knew her husband had cheated on her. That alone made her way too vulnerable for his brand of dating.

  All might be fair in love and war, but devastated women were off-limits.

  Besides, if he ever went out even once with Sophie, Lissie would find out. And she’d get all kinds of crazy ideas, probably start expecting them to get married.

  And if he stopped going out with Sophie, there might be hurt feelings. And Lissie could end up caught in the middle between her brother and her best friend.

  Last—but definitely not least—there was Ivy.

  Rafe had no intention of bringing any new woman into her life—into their lives. Not after what Ivy had already been through with her mother. Which was primarily the reason he didn’t date anyone long term. He didn’t want Ivy growing close to someone he was seeing, and then being disappointed when things didn’t work out. Having a string of women in and out of her life was not something he’d do to his daughter, not after what Lynelle had pulled.

  He couldn’t put Ivy through that, not after everything she’d already gone through. Hell, she still missed her mother. He knew she did, though she rarely even mentioned her name. But he’d seen the longing in her face when she was with her friends and watched them joking, hanging out, even arguing with their moms.

  He could always tell when she was thinking about Lynelle.

  There was that sadness in her eyes, similar to the hollow expression he sometimes noticed when she fed or groomed or exercised Misty Mae, Lynelle’s mare.

  Before Lynelle deserted them, she and Ivy had often ridden together—Ivy on sweet old Duchess, and Lynelle on Misty Mae, the spirited thoroughbred filly Rafe had bought her in the first year of their marriage.

  Rafe had recently been considering the idea of selling Misty Mae. Enough time had passed that he thought it might be easier now for Ivy to part ways with such a tangible reminder of her mother. But when he’d casually mentioned selling Misty Mae one Sunday morning after breakfast, his daughter’s eyes had filled with tears so quickly, his heart had clenched.

  He’d known in that instant, that no matter what she said to anyone—to the therapist he’d taken her to see after Lynelle left, to Lissie, to him—a part of Ivy still believed Lynelle would return, ride Misty Mae again, be her mother again.

  It was like a shotgun blast to his heart every time he thought about it.

  He hoped Ivy didn’t feel responsible, that she didn’t think Lynelle had run away from her. He’d talked to her about it over and over, but how could a kid so young understand that her mother had run out on them because of her own problems, not because of him or Ivy?

  Lynelle had run because Lynelle was Lynelle. Immature, irresponsible, and as restless as a tumbleweed.

  These past few years, he’d worked his ass off trying to give Ivy back the sense of stability Lynelle had nuked the day she left town. Now the two of them had a great life together—everything rolled along on a pretty even keel, smooth and familiar.

  So Rafe wasn’t about to introduce any new, potentially rocky complications.

  “You should date Sophie,” Decker said in between bites of nachos and guacamole.

  “You should brush up on your pool.” Rafe saluted his cousin with his beer bottle. “Before I kick your ass again.”

  But that night as he drove home from the Double Cross, Rafe couldn’t help remembering the sizzling summer afternoon Sophie McPhee had kissed him in his truck a stone’s throw from the Good Luck ranch. She’d been only a kid then, fifteen—much too young for him—and he’d hightailed it out of there, hurting her feelings, no doubt, but she’d scared the hell out of him.

  It had been a damned good kiss, he thought with a smile. Somehow it had packed quite a wallop, seeing as he still remembered it.

  And he wasn’t sure why. Probably just because she’d taken him by surprise.

  Turning
into the ranch, he couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to gather the woman Sophie McPhee had become into his arms, carry her up to his bed, and try that kiss—and a few other things he could think of—again.

  Not going to happen, he told himself, staring at the single lonely light ablaze in the living room window, hearing Starbucks give a welcoming woof from within the big, empty house.

  He shut off the engine, got out of his truck.

  Not. Going. To. Happen.

  “Rafe likes you,” Mia said thoughtfully as Sophie took a sip of her wine in the booth near the back of the Double Cross.

  “You’re crazy. He doesn’t even know me.”

  “Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

  “I’m not in the business of noticing men these days.” Sophie took a full-out gulp of wine this time and hoped she didn’t choke on the lie. How could she not notice Rafe? She might be a mess, but she wasn’t blind and she wasn’t dead. Rafe Tanner was a god of all things sexy and dangerous. And those muscles . . .

  “I’m trying to forget men exist on this planet, not pick one up in a bar. Besides, Rafe and I have known each other forever.”

  “And you’ve had a crush on him forever. At least you used to have a crush on him,” Mia amended, grinning as Sophie glared at her.

  “I used to be married too, and I’m not anymore.”

  “Let’s drink to that.” Mia lifted her glass, and with a grim smile touching her lips, Sophie raised hers.

  Just as they clinked, a waitress rushed up to their table. Sophie recognized the woman with the pale, faded hair who’d been feeding her toddler grilled cheese in Roy’s this afternoon. Tonight she was wearing makeup, but she still looked tired.

  No wonder, if she’s waitressing in this place nights and taking care of a child during the day, Sophie thought with a stab of sympathy.

  “Angela’s gone on break,” the waitress explained quickly, brushing one stray wisp of hair from her eyes. “I’m taking over her tables. What can I bring you ladies?”

  They ordered the stuffed mushroom appetizer to share. After the waitress rushed off, Sophie asked the question that had been on her mind since she left the Good Luck ranch.

  “Did you know that my mother is dating Mr. Hartigan?”

  Mia looked like she’d been struck by lightning. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I wish.” If Mia didn’t know, no one knew. Except—until tonight—Gran.

  How on earth had her mother and Doug Hartigan managed to keep it a secret?

  Of course now that Martha and Dorothy both knew, the news would ripple all through Lonesome Way by morning.

  “Are you sure about this, Sophie? I mean . . . Why?”

  “Obviously my mother has taken leave of her senses.”

  “Brainwashed.” Mia took a sip of wine. “Hartigan was always good at that—making kids feel like they were stupid for not grasping that geometry was the end-all and be-all of life.”

  As music blared through the Double Cross and couples swayed on the dance floor, Sophie struggled to come up with an explanation for her mother secretly dating the teacher from hell.

  “She’s probably lonely.” Mia set down her wineglass. “That has to be it.”

  “He claims they’re in love.” Her teeth hurt just saying the words.

  “Barf. What does your mom say?”

  “I haven’t talked to her about it yet.” She explained what had happened on the porch tonight.

  Sophie knew they needed to get down to the business of planning Lissie’s shower, but how could she concentrate now?

  She needed to talk to her mother. And she needed to forget she’d seen Rafe Tanner and that he was more dreamy than ever.

  Turning her head a fraction, she could still see the booth where Rafe and Decker had been drinking beer only a dozen feet away. Only Rafe’s profile had been visible, but her heart had jumped just the same. He’d always had this effect on her. It was depressing. Why hadn’t she gotten past it by now?

  As Mia pulled a printout of baby shower games and favors from her purse, Sophie forced her attention back onto the shower plans.

  But she knew one thing now she hadn’t known when she’d awakened this morning in her old familiar bedroom.

  Coming home wasn’t nearly as easy as it was cracked up to be.

  Chapter Nine

  Ten days later, Sophie parked the Blazer across the street from Roy’s Diner and studied the activity under way inside the old place.

  A tiny flutter of excitement surged through her.

  Roy and Lil had packed up and left for Laramie only four days ago, but her father’s old friend Sam McDonald and his shy forty-five-year-old son, Denny, had made tremendous strides since then. They’d been working on her renovations nearly around the clock.

  Sam McDonald owned a small construction company and did construction and handyman work year-round. She’d handed him a key to the place the same day she signed the lease and applied for her local bakery and food-handling licenses.

  He and Denny had been hammering and sanding and painting for ten—sometimes twelve—hours a day, transforming Roy’s inch by inch into Sophie’s vision of Lonesome Way’s first bakery-cafe.

  Watching them painting through the plate glass window, pleasure washed over her. The worn old booths had been torn out, and the old wood floor refinished, sanded, and stained to a dazzling gleam. Today, the father and son were painting the ceiling a pale lavender and the walls a rich sage green with almond trim. Tomorrow they’d hang the new light fixtures and install new deep purple leather booths.

  Denny would hang the ceiling fan as soon as the paint was dry. Her beautiful glass display shelves were being shipped. And she’d find just the right spot for the portable gas fireplace she’d ordered online to warm and brighten the bakery when winter arrived.

  Sophie had decided to keep the antique cash register, but she’d bought two additional stone-fired baking ovens, rolling racks, and a huge modern stainless steel refrigerator from a contact of hers who dealt in restaurant equipment. Everything was scheduled to be delivered the following week, well before the grand opening.

  But now she had to make the biggest decision of all. Beside her on the seat of the Blazer, Tidbit gave a little whine, as if to say, Are we going to sit here all day?

  “Shhh,” she murmured, stroking the soft fur behind his ears. “I’m thinking.”

  No one had claimed the dog, or even inquired about him. He’d had no chip, and according to Doc Weatherby, looked to be four or five years old and in good health, despite what he’d been through.

  “My guess is he hasn’t had a home in a long time, not a real one. If he ever did,” the vet had added.

  “He has one now.” She’d scooped Tidbit from the examining table and made a silent pledge into those soft, trusting eyes.

  As he yawned on the seat beside her and lay down again, his head resting between his paws, Sophie continued to sit with the window rolled down, contemplating the bakery as Denny McDonald methodically rolled paint across the ceiling.

  People hurried up and down Main Street. Next door to the bakery, Martha was finishing up a perm in the Cuttin’ Loose. Several young girls—around Ivy Tanner’s age—burst out of Benson’s corner drugstore, laughing and talking excitedly as they swiped on lip gloss. At the corner of First and Main, two ranch hands hustled sacks of feed out to their truck.

  Then Georgia Timmons sashayed right past the Blazer, headed toward Top to Toe, her shoulder-length dark hair and frosted pink mouth shimmering in the sunlight. Sophie jerked upright and held her breath, relieved Georgia hadn’t noticed her. She’d already had one annoying phone call from the woman, informing her about a mandatory meeting for the library fund-raiser.

  “You heard that I’m in charge, didn’t you, Sophie? All volunteers in every department need to be at the library next Monday night at seven o’clock sharp. If you want to participate, you must attend.”

/>   It had been difficult, but Sophie had resisted the almost overpowering urge to un-volunteer herself on the spot. She only refrained because her mother had already committed her to the cause—and because she’d seen for herself that Lonesome Way’s library really was in dire need of refurbishing.

  She’d stopped by the other day to browse the fiction shelves and was shocked at how small and shabby the place looked. There was only a single computer for patrons’ use, just two small shelves of rental DVDs, and the women’s restroom had broken locks on the stall doors and cracked sinks. Even worse, the children’s section was marred by badly stained and frayed carpeting, as well as a dearth of new picture books.

  So even Georgia hadn’t been able to deter her from helping. But the former head cheerleader and chief hall monitor hadn’t been satisfied to merely tell her about the meeting. She’d weighed in on the bakery too.

  “Well, you know, that place will always be Roy’s for a lot of us here in Lonesome Way.” Georgia’s voice had flowed through the phone like thickly honeyed whiskey. “You should know for your own good, Sophie, people are wondering why you were so quick to take over and change everything. There’s some who’re miffed about that. They even think you were . . . oh, what’s the word—predatory in moving so fast.”

  “Predatory, Georgia? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Oh, not everyone, mind you, but there’s been some talk. I only hope you know what you’re doing. Not that I want to put a damper on your big plans. But I don’t have to tell you how people can be. There are some in town who swear they won’t set foot in some fancy bakery. They’re saying how much they’re going to miss all the good wholesome food at Roy’s.”

  “Then I guess they’ll have to track Lil and Roy down in Laramie and invite themselves to supper, won’t they?”

  Sophie smiled with satisfaction as she remembered that for all of ten seconds, Georgia had been speechless.

  Sophie had pounced on the opportunity to say a quick good-bye and end the call.

  Now as she watched Georgia disappear inside Top to Toe, she glanced back at the bakery and made her decision.