At Wild Rose Cottage (14 page)

CHAPTER TEN

E
MILY
BOUNCED
OFF
her bed on Thursday morning, determined to make it better than Wednesday had been. Trent had gone stiff and uncommunicative the previous day, similar to when he'd first begun the renovations. After their work together at the farmhouse, she'd hoped he'd warm up from frigid to merely cool.

Of course, maybe he didn't want to be friendly.

He could have decided he'd come too close to making a mistake that night in the truck and was trying to keep his distance so she wouldn't get the wrong idea. That was fine.

Curiously, 7:00 a.m. came and went without Trent knocking on her door, then the phone rang shortly before 8:00. Caller ID showed it was Big Sky Construction.

“Trent?” she answered.

“Sorry, Em, it's Alaina. Trent came down with that flu as well, so I'm afraid no one will be there today. Mike is back and I could send him—”

“You'd better not,” Emily cut in swiftly. “He might try to...well, you know.” Mike kept trying to get a second date and she was still trying to head him off.

Alaina was silent for a moment. “You're a good friend. Trent wants Mike to fill in holes on other crews this week unless you can't live with the debris in your yard any longer.”

“Nope, it's fine. Did you hear about me buying a horse?”

“Lord, yes. Jackson wants to drive over and get her himself. His personal riding stallion is an Appaloosa—he loves the breed. So if you want to sell the mare to him, I'm sure he'll be delighted to have her.”

Emily wondered if Trent had suggested the possibility to his sister. It would probably be for the best, but she remembered the way Stella Luna had pushed into her shoulder, as if seeking a safe place. Harold Burrows had entrusted his mare to her and she couldn't see surrendering her without giving the whole thing a fair chance.

“I'll think about it. It must be pretty hard taking care of a horse.”

“You get used to it,” Alaina said casually. “Of course, I was just three when Mom and Dad brought us out to their ranch to live, so I grew up with horses. Why don't we meet for lunch at the Roundup Café?”

“Sure.”

Emily spent a couple of hours tossing shingles from her front yard into the Dumpster, then showered and headed for the Emporium to touch base with her manager. Business was brisk, though it would undoubtedly slow down once the tourist season ended.

The Emporium
had
been in trouble when she'd bought it, but mostly it had needed a facelift and a better selection of merchandise. So she'd changed the inventory, advertised in key tourist publications, painted, and the place had become surprisingly profitable in a short period of time...but she wasn't really needed now, except to pick out stock.

Maybe she should buy another business.

Or maybe not.

She didn't want to be one of those people who flitted from place to place and project to project. Besides, she had lots to do in Schuyler...including getting to know a horse.

Feeling better, Emily left to meet Alaina. The restaurant food in Schuyler was good, but didn't have the international variety she'd enjoyed in Los Angeles. Perhaps cooking new cuisines was a hobby she could explore in her new kitchen.

Alaina was waiting for her and they chose a table near the window.

“I'm glad you suggested getting together,” Emily said after they'd given the server their order. “The quiet at the house felt weird.”

“Wish I could say the same about the office. I'm juggling crews to get the priority jobs done. You can't leave a ninety-year-old woman without plumbing.”

“That's for sure.”

Emily wondered if the ninety-year-old woman was one of Big Sky's “special” jobs. She'd overheard comments the crew had made and figured out that Trent sometimes worked free for certain people. It was an interesting insight into his character.

When she'd asked Eduardo about it, he'd been embarrassed and asked her not to say anything.

The boss wants to keep that kind of thing under the radar,
Eduardo had told her.
We shouldn't have been talking about it.

No worries,
she'd assured him. Emily knew how to keep secrets. And it was Trent's concern if he wanted to keep a softer side of his personality private. But
why
keep it private? Despite his reputation for honesty, most folks thought he was as tough as old rawhide, which wasn't a reputation she'd cultivate.

“You look pale,” Emily commented. “Is everything all right?”

Alaina yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I've been having nightmares lately. I think it's the same one I used to have as a kid, with lots of yelling. I remember feeling scared, but no real details.”

“That's too bad. A friend of mine says dreams can tell us what's going on in our lives and how we feel about stuff.”

Alaina snorted. “I know exactly how frustrated I am with Mike. I don't need a dream to tell me that.”

Emily knew how she felt. She was frustrated with Trent, though for entirely different reasons. Or maybe she was just annoyed with herself for thinking about him so much. He wasn't her business and he never would be. Nor was she interested; he was too cynical. Even friendship with someone like that would be a challenge.

* * *

A
LAINA
SIPPED
HER
iced tea and relaxed for the first time since the worst of the flu epidemic had begun.

For days she'd been bursting with the news that she'd convinced Mike to be in the auction. Well...had badgered him into it. Part of her felt guilty, but she also knew she'd told him the plain truth. Yet however much she wanted to tell Emily, the committee kept the list private until they were ready to advertise.

When Trent had come home from his trip to Helena she'd even felt bold enough to see if he'd reconsider volunteering, as well. The committee hadn't dared put him on the list of potentials. But she'd decided it couldn't hurt to ask.

He'd stared as if she was from another planet.
Don't be ridiculous. I told you it wasn't going to happen. I'll make my usual donation and that's it.

Alaina hadn't pressed the point. Trent did plenty of hush-hush stuff to help people, so she couldn't argue that he needed to support Schuyler with more than his money, the way she had with Mike.
You're still going to the barbecue, aren't you?

Yes.

As with family gatherings, he generally attended community affairs, though she knew he didn't enjoy them. Trent simply felt he
should
go, so that's what he did.

Alaina had never understood her brother. He was protective and had faithfully shown up for her special days, including flying to California for her college graduation. He listened if she had a problem. But that strange distance between them remained.

“I'm afraid I had an ulterior motive in asking you to lunch,” Alaina admitted while they ate the Roundup's special of the day—bacon burgers with a heap of fresh coleslaw.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I'm on the Firefighters Auxiliary. We raise money to support our volunteer firefighters.”

Emily wiped a drip of barbecue sauce from her chin. “I think all firefighters are terrific, but it's even more incredible when someone is doing it without being paid. How can I help?”

“Every summer we have a bachelor and bachelorette auction—the winner gets taken out to dinner by the person they bid on. This year we're combining our annual barbecue with the auction. You're on my list to recruit as a bachelorette.”

From Emily's panicked expression, Alaina realized she'd hit a nerve.

Before she could say anything, Emily let out a forced laugh. “Sorry, it wouldn't work. I'm not the right type to pull it off.”

“I wouldn't dream of pushing, but I can't help wondering why?” Then Alaina remembered Emily's engagement had ended only earlier that year. “Ohmigosh, I should have remembered your stupid fiancé and realized you wouldn't be interested.”

Emily made a face. “It's more than that. Dennis and I were engaged for five years. His sister was the one who finally told me what was happening. I felt like an idiot. I mean, unless there's a special reason, who waits that long to get married or at least move in together? But there was always an excuse and I just accepted it.”

“Um...it sounds as if he was never faithful.”

“Dennis doesn't know the meaning of the word. He even thought I should be grateful he wanted to marry me, no matter how many times he'd cheated.”

A flash of anger went through Alaina on behalf of her friend. “You've mentioned that he's hung up on glamour, but most guys get past that stage. It's childish for them to expect to marry someone like Cindy Crawford or Gisele Bündchen. Besides, I bet some supermodels aren't that glamorous when they don't have a makeup artist in their skinny-jeans back pocket.”

Emily's nose wrinkled. “Actually, Dennis doesn't want to marry a glamour princess—she might expect too much from him. He enjoys the idea of being married and having someone to keep everything running smoothly in his life, but he gets bored easily and thinks fidelity is for other people. Basically, he wants a bread-and-butter wife who won't object if he samples jam from lots of pretty jars.”

Alaina frowned. “I understand how having a supermodel sister must have been hard on the ego, but why are you still letting anyone else influence how you see yourself?”

“You didn't grow up being compared to someone like Nicole. There's nothing wrong with how I look, but there's nothing particularly special about me, either. I'm used to it.”

“I may not be a guy, but I think you're special. And just so you know, the committee was thrilled to put you on the list of potential recruits.”

“That's nice, but I'd hate getting up on a platform and waiting for guys to bid on me. All my insecurities would attack.”

“I understand.” Alaina winced, remembering how she'd goaded Mike into volunteering. But surely it wasn't the same with him. He'd always been supremely confident, practically to the point of arrogance, and now was acting like a bad-tempered hermit. She felt bad about his accident, but he'd played in the majors for a decade, which was a whole lot more than most people got. She ought to point that out the next time he was being an ass.

“I'd be glad to do something else,” Emily said. “Have you thought of having a silent auction for donated items? It would be fun, particularly for people who aren't bidding on a date.”

“We've talked about it, but nobody has time to solicit donations.”

Brightening, Emily leaned forward. “I'll do it if you don't mind that I'm not on the committee.”

“You're just as busy as everyone else and now you've got a horse.”

Emily laughed. “Stella Luna won't be at Jackson's ranch until next week. I'll make some calls and twist arms if that's what you want.”

“Just a minute.” Grabbing her cell, Alaina phoned the chair of the steering committee, who was delighted with the turn of events. Punching the off button, she beamed across the table. “Congratulations, you're now an honorary member and can start twisting arms.”

“Great. Just this morning I was thinking I needed a new project.”

Alaina gave her friend a droll look. “Right, as if a skittish horse, two businesses, major house renovations and dealing with my cantankerous brother weren't enough of a challenge.”

For some reason Emily's face suddenly looked strained, but Alaina decided not to question it.

* * *

I
NSTEAD
OF
GOING
straight home, Emily began visiting local businesses. Within three hours she'd gotten donation pledges for everything from a cowboy hat to a free haircut. Then she dropped into several restaurants who donated gift certificates for meals. In particular, the unmarried business owners and managers seemed so relieved she wasn't trying to recruit them for the auction, they were eager to be generous.

It was a good beginning and she finally headed back to Wild Rose Cottage. Yet her adrenaline ebbed when she walked through the front door.

After the conversation with Alaina, she'd tried not to think about what Dennis had done and how it was tied up with how Trent made her feel. Now it returned.

Emily was sick of her ex-fiancé's memory hanging around like a ghost. He didn't deserve it.

She eyed the left side of the living room. At some point a flimsy wall had been erected to make an extra bedroom, or maybe an office. But it was awkward because it blocked the windows on that side and simply didn't fit. Removing it was in the contract, but it wasn't a weight-bearing wall, so maybe she could knock the thing out herself.

Of course, she ought to be contacting more of the folks she'd gotten to know through the Chamber of Commerce. The donation pledges she'd already received were nice, but they were only a start.

Nonetheless, the temptation to hit something with a sledgehammer was too much to resist.

Mindful of Trent's insistence about safety, Emily put on a hard hat and safety glasses from the cache of tools the guys left at the end of each workday. The sledgehammer weighed a ton, but she hefted it over her shoulder and started whacking.

With each blow she shoved out some of her lingering rage at Dennis and how he'd treated her. His tone had been so patronizing when he'd said that of course he cared for her, but it was unreasonable to expect him to resist genuine beauty.

Pieces of wood and plaster flew.

After a couple of hours, the wall lay in pieces.

Sticking her chin up, she smiled. Okay, so she wasn't a raving beauty, but she deserved better. A lot better.

Trent was probably going to throw a fit about the wall, but he'd have to lump it.