Jackson Hole Valentine

The attorney punched the doorbell and chuckled. “Welcome to Jackson Hole.”

A brisk breeze slapped Meg in the face. She shivered. “Are you sure Cole is home?”

“I called him on my way here. His knee has really been hurting him.” A frown furrowed Ryan’s brow. “I hope he didn’t fall.”

Remembering Cole’s unsteady gait and his determination to push his limits back in Ryan’s office made losing his balance a definite possibility. Meg’s heart picked up speed. “Since he knew we were coming, perhaps he left the door unlocked.”

She grasped the ornate door handle with her gloved hand and pushed. It opened easily. A flood of escaping warmth washed over them. She hurried inside with Ryan on her heels.

“Cole, are you okay?” Ryan called out, slipping off his cap and stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.

“Just moving a little slow this morning.” Cole hobbled into view on his crutches, the brace on his right knee. He’d ditched the suit he’d been wearing the last time she’d seen him for running pants and a blue long-sleeved cotton shirt.

Meg let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She told herself her racing heart didn’t have a thing to do with him. It was simply that as a rehabilitation professional she saw the signs of a man in considerable pain and facing a long road to recovery.

Slipping off her parka, she placed it in Ryan’s outstretched hand before refocusing on Cole. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Exercises?” Ryan scoffed. “The guy can barely get around.”

“It’s important that he starts strengthening his quads right away.” Although Margaret now spent her time working primarily with stroke patients, her first job had been at a sports-medicine clinic.

Cole’s chin lifted in a defiant tilt. “It’s been a busy week.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Margaret’s experienced gaze took in everything from the way Cole was standing to the lines of strain around his eyes. “Do you have a CPM machine?”

“What’s that?” Ryan asked Margaret, closing the closet door and picking up the briefcase he’d set on the marble floor.

“Hey, I’m right here,” Cole said a bit gruffly. “If you have anything to ask about my rehabilitation, ask me. Why ask her?”

“Because she’s the professional,” Ryan said.

When Margaret saw the blank look on Cole’s face she realized that he had no clue what she did to earn a living, any more than she knew how he could afford a place as expensive as this one.

“I’m a physical therapist,” she said. “I’ve worked with my share of sports injuries. I’m guessing you had an ACL reconstruction. The surgery was somewhere between five and seven days ago—”

“Five.” Cole exhaled a breath. “Right before I left to come here.”

“And the doctor let you fly?” Margaret didn’t even try to keep the surprise from her voice. Most patients were told not to get on a plane for the first two weeks.

“I didn’t see another option,” Cole said. “I heard the news about Joy and Ty right after I’d gotten out of surgery. I wanted to be here for the funeral. Pay my respects.”

His eyes met hers and something unexpected passed between them. She saw her own pain reflected in his and for the first time she realized they shared a common sorrow. In that horrific crash on Route 22, both had lost dear friends.

“I understand,” Margaret said softly. Recent surgery wouldn’t have kept her away, either. “But I’m sure the doctor emphasized that the first week is the most difficult and a critical time for—”

“He said a lot of things.” Cole maneuvered himself into a nearby chair and gestured for them to take a seat. “But we’re here today to talk about Charlie and his needs, not mine.”

Margaret stepped into the large family room, instantly taking note of the hardwood floor and the number of rugs scattered throughout the room.

Safety hazards. She frowned. If he was her patient, the rugs would all come up until he was steadier on his feet. But he wasn’t her patient, so she kept her mouth shut. She contented herself with admiring the rest of the house before taking a seat on a burgundy leather sofa.

From what she could see, the kitchen off to her right held granite countertops and pewter-colored appliances. Over to her left was a study with French doors, and straight ahead a large stone fireplace with shelves of books on both sides.

Despite being a large home, the place had a surprisingly homey feel. It was easy for Margaret to see Charlie playing with his plastic dinosaurs in front of a roaring fire or running up and down the staircase. Or God forbid, sliding down the banister.

But for Cole and his limitations, this home had to be a nightmare.

“How are you managing the stairs?” The question popped out of Meg’s mouth before she could stop it.

“I’m not.” Cole repositioned his leg on the ottoman by picking it up and moving it with both hands. “Thankfully everything Charlie and I will need is on this level.”

“You’re not driving yet.” It was a comment, not a question.

“I’ve found a good car service,” Cole said. “Very responsive.”

She wondered if he planned to use the car service to transport Charlie to school. Had he even begun to consider any of the dozens of things that had to be done to keep a household running? Duties and tasks which required two fully functioning legs? “I can’t imagine how you’ll manage—”

“How’s the apartment hunting coming?” he asked, cutting her off.

“It’s coming.” Margaret straightened in her seat and smoothed her plaid skirt with the palm of one hand. “I expect to find a place any day now.”

He smiled and it was as if the sun had broken through the clouds. “If anyone will try to make this work it will be you.”

A compliment? From Cole? Startled, Margaret wasn’t sure how to respond.

Thankfully Ryan stepped into the conversational void.

“We can get into those specifics in a bit.” The attorney lifted his briefcase onto the log-and-glass coffee table. “I’d first like to know what your respective attorneys had to say about the enforceability of the joint-custody stipulation in the will.”

“Way to jump right in there, Ry.” Cole shifted his gaze from Margaret to the attorney. “Before we get started, would either of you like a cup of coffee? Of course, you’ll have to get it yourself.”

Margaret started to say no but then the deep, rich aroma hit her nostrils. “It smells delicious.”

“It’s one of our signature blends,” Cole said. “Umakkamecrazy.”

Margaret’s brows slammed together. “I do what?”

Ryan laughed heartily. “How appropriate.”

She cocked her head, feeling as if she’d come late to a party and everyone knew the joke except her. “I don’t understand.”

“Cole owns Hill of Beans,” Ryan explained.

Margaret was familiar with the chain of coffeehouses. There was even one in Omaha, not far from her apartment. She shifted her gaze to Cole. “Is that what you do? Have a franchise in Austin?”

“Something like that,” Cole said.

“Actually, he owns the whole company,” Ryan said. “Tell her your success story. Local boy makes good and all that.”

Cole shot Ryan a warning gaze. “I’m not a trick pony that will perform on command.”

“Duly noted,” Ryan said, appearing not at all repentant. “Tell her anyway. It’ll be a good way to update her on what’s been going on with you since high school.”

Cole knew his friend too well. Ryan was like a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t move on until he got his way. Cole shifted his gaze to Meg.

“I earned a degree in entrepreneurship from the University of Texas then opened my first coffee shop shortly after graduation,” he said matter-of-factly. “We now have forty franchises in seven states.”

“But not one in Wyoming,” Ryan interjected.

A smile played at the corners of Cole’s lips. “Not yet.”

Meg’s heart dropped. Instead of finding the rags-to-riches story inspiring, all she felt was depressed. And scared. No wonder Cole had attorneys at his disposal and could afford to rent a house like this without batting an eye.

“I think I will take you up on your offer,” Ryan said to Cole. “I’d love some coffee.”

When the attorney made no move to get up, Meg rose to her feet. “I’ll get it.”

Cole leaned back in his overstuffed chair like a sovereign on his throne. A rich king who could have anything he wanted… including a little boy who needed a mother.

A little boy who needs me.

The fact that after all these years it took only one look from Cole’s baby blues to make her heart skip a beat made Meg even angrier. At herself. At the situation. At him.

“Thank you,” he called out when she reached the doorway to the kitchen.

“No thanks necessary.” She turned and shot him an imperious gaze. “I don’t want to see you fall and have to pick up the pieces.”

Pick up the pieces. Like he was some loser who couldn’t pull his own weight.

Cole fumed as Meg disappeared into the kitchen, her boots clicking on the hardwood.

He resisted the urge to call her back, to tell her to keep her hands off his coffee. But that would be childish, so Cole kept his mouth shut and spent the next few minutes listening to Ryan discuss current ski conditions. Not that Cole would be out on the slopes anytime soon.

Still, it beat worrying about how he was going to care for Charlie and wondering what he’d done to make Meg so bitter.

She returned moments later with a tray holding a carafe of coffee and three mugs. It didn’t surprise him that she’d remembered to bring the cream and sugar. She’d excelled at anything she’d set her mind to do. Unlike him, who’d struggled through life for years.

When she bent to place the tray on the coffee table, he reluctantly admitted that the plaid skirt and green sweater suited her coloring. He even liked the way she’d pulled her hair to one side with a large tortoiseshell barrette.

Cole glanced down at his shirt and running pants. Ryan had told him the meeting today would be casual. Either Meg hadn’t received the message or she’d decided to dress up anyway.

Ignoring his gaze, she filled a cup with the steaming brew then handed it to him, her fingers accidentally brushing against his.

A spark of electricity traveled up Cole’s arm. His gaze shot to hers to see if she’d felt it, too. But she’d already turned away to fill Ryan’s cup.

By the time she sat down, Cole’s leg had begun to throb and all he wanted was to get through the discussion and ice his knee.

“My attorneys say the will is well crafted and completely enforceable.” Cole shifted his gaze to Meg. “I assume that’s what you discovered, as well.”

“Unfortunately yes.” Meg’s lips pressed together for several heartbeats. “I still can’t understand what Joy and Ty were thinking, but it is what it is.”

“Which means we’ll have to come to a consensus on how to split custody,” Cole said. “For now at least.”

“For now?” Meg asked.

Cole took a sip of coffee. “Until I discover a way to obtain sole custody.”

“I don’t understand.” Meg placed her cup down with a clatter. “Even your attorneys said the terms of the document are completely enforceable.”

“I crafted it carefully,” Ryan said in a defensive tone. “There is no way around the stipulations.”

“Perhaps.” Cole raised the mug to his lips. “But I learned long ago that everything is not always as it appears. Given time I will find a way to obtain sole custody. I feel it’s in Charlie’s best interest to have a single stable home… and I can assure you that home will be with me.”

Chapter Four

By the look of shock on Ryan’s face, Meg knew the attorney was as stunned as she was by Cole’s bold assertion.

“I have to tell you, buddy. I have real concerns about your ability to care for a kid right now.” Ryan spoke before she had a chance to respond.

Her spirits rose at the look of shock on Cole’s face. Apparently he’d finally remembered the stipulation that gave the attorney the ability to declare either of them unfit.

“If I discover that I need help,” Cole said, “I’ll hire a live-in nanny to help me until I’m able to care for him by myself.”

“You’d bring another new person into Charlie’s life?” Ryan’s tone made it clear what he thought of the idea.

Meg sipped her coffee, waiting to see where the conversation would lead.

“You have a better suggestion? One that doesn’t involve—”Cole’s gaze shifted briefly to Meg “—giving her sole custody?”

Her. As if she didn’t have a name. But Meg was too interested in how Ryan would respond to interrupt.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The attorney leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face.

“Are you planning to share that suggestion with us?” Cole spoke in a slightly mocking tone.

“Meg moves in with you,” Ryan said. “In exchange for free room and board she helps you care for Charlie and does therapy on your knee.”

Had Ryan really suggested she and Cole live together? Meg bolted upright in her seat. “No way.”

“Absolutely not,” Cole echoed.

She exchanged a glance with Cole. She’d never thought this day would come. They finally agreed on something.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you back in high school—”

“Let it go, Ry—” Cole growled.

“—and frankly I don’t care.” A tiny muscle in Ryan’s jaw jumped. “That little boy survived a crash that killed both of his parents. Creating the best possible environment for him to get through this difficult time should take priority over your personal feelings toward each other.”

“The house is big enough,” Cole murmured as if he was actually considering having her move in with him.

Meg’s heart pounded in her ears. She couldn’t imagine spending one night in the same house as Cole, much less days or, gulp, weeks.

“I have a place to stay.” She spoke quickly, the words tumbling out one after the other as her panic grew. “Charlie can stay with me until—” Meg gestured with one hand toward Cole “—he recovers.”

“No.” Cole shook his head and his jaw jutted out. “Not happening.”

Their momentary truce had taken a sharp detour south.

“Meg.” This time it was her turn to be on the receiving end of the attorney’s unyielding gaze. “You said you hadn’t found an apartment yet. I got the distinct impression money was a major factor.”

“Travis and Mary Karen told me I could move in with them.” She forced some enthusiasm into her voice. It wasn’t easy.

Meg knew if she moved into her brother and sister-in-law’s home, Charlie would have an unending supply of playmates. But would he be swallowed up in the chaos? Would she be able to get to know him? To help him heal? Still, to move in with Cole…

She shivered.

“I know Travis and Mary Karen,” Ryan said slowly, appearing to choose his words carefully. “They’re great people and wonderful parents. But they have five children under the age of seven. Do you really think that’s the best environment for Charlie right now?”

Meg had been prepared to argue until he asked the very question that had been troubling her. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say no. She settled for a shrug.

“I’m not suggesting that the two of you live together permanently,” Ryan began.

“Thank God,” Cole said.

“Just give it a couple months.” The attorney fixed his gaze on Cole. “By then you’ll each be in a position to care for Charlie on your own or—”

Ryan paused to take a sip of coffee.

“Or?” Meg prompted.

“Or you’ll have killed each other.”

The bistro on Scott Lane was crowded with playhouse patrons enjoying post-performance chocolate and espresso while listening to live jazz.

Thankfully, Jackson Hole embraced casual, so Meg didn’t feel out of place in her jeans and sweater.

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do?” Travis’s eyes were dark with concern.

When her brother had asked her to run into town with him to have some dessert and coffee as a thank-you for the fabulous meal she’d prepared for his family, Meg had immediately agreed.

Since she’d arrived in Jackson last week, she and Travis hadn’t had much alone time. His wife must have sensed this, because she’d insisted she wanted to stay home and encouraged Travis to take his sister out.

Meg had been excited, thinking how good it would be to have some one-on-one time with her brother. She’d never considered he might want to revisit her decision to move in with Cole.

“Mary Karen and I would love to have you and Charlie stay with us.” Travis’s hazel eyes—so like her own—shone with sincerity. “We don’t want you to live with Cole because you feel you don’t have other options. Because you do. Have other options, I mean.”

Meg let her gaze linger on his handsome face. Though his sandy-colored hair was much lighter than hers and he’d inherited a tendency to freckle that she’d somehow managed to escape, their features proclaimed them as brother and sister. It wasn’t until Meg had returned to Jackson Hole that she’d realized just how much she missed him.

He was only a year older than her, and when their parents had passed away, it had been the two of them—working as a team—who’d kept the family together.

“Margaret,” he said when she didn’t answer, pushing his chipotle chocolate pudding to the side and covering her hand with his. “I don’t know what happened between you and Cole back in high school but I do know that he hurt you.”

“That was a long time ago.” Meg took a dainty bite of the French macaroon, preferring to focus on the delicious morsel rather than on the past.

Travis’s eyes burned with a protective fire. “Are you saying you’ve settled things with him?”

Meg didn’t want to lie to her brother, but if she said no, she already knew what would happen. He’d insist she stay with him.

Not that she didn’t love Travis and adore his wife and children, but after spending the past few days in his household, she’d concluded Ryan was right. With one set of six-year-old twin boys, a four-year-old boy and a set of one-year-old twins, her brother’s household was very busy. Okay, to a woman used to living alone, it was chaotic. Which meant it was way too crazy for an only child grieving the death of his parents.

“It was high school, Trav.” Margaret forced a laugh and waved a dismissive hand. “It’d be pretty sad if I was still holding on to something that happened fifteen years ago. We were just kids.”

Travis’s eyes searched hers. “If you’re sure…”

“Have you ever known me to hold a grudge?” Meg kept her tone light, hoping to dispel the clouds of doubt lingering in her brother’s eyes.

The words nearly got caught in her throat but it was worth the effort it took to spit them out when the lines of tension around his eyes eased.

“If he’s anything like he used to be, Cole is a good man.” As if he’d suddenly rediscovered his appetite, Travis dipped his spoon back into the chocolate pudding he’d been ignoring. “I played ball with him back in high school. He was one of the guys who went out of his way to be nice to Chip.”

“Chip” was Christopher Stone, a mentally challenged classmate. He’d been the student assistant for the football and basketball teams during their high school years.

It didn’t surprise Meg that Cole had been nice to Chip. He’d always had a soft spot for the underdog. Was that admiration she was feeling? She pushed the feeling aside.

“Whatever happened to Chip?” Meg hadn’t thought of her former classmate in years.

“He’s a sacker at Hinky Dinky. Appears to enjoy the work.” Travis returned the greeting of a very pregnant young woman and her cowboy husband before returning his attention to Meg. “I want to help you move tomorrow. I have surgery in the morning but I can reschedule my afternoon appointments.”

“I appreciate the offer, Trav, but all I have is a couple of suitcases.” It was true. Even if it wasn’t, Travis had done so much for her already. Not only had he opened his home to her, he’d hooked her up with Lexi’s attorney husband, Nick, who’d given her free legal advice.

Travis took a bite of pudding then set his spoon down. “What about the rest of your things back in Omaha?”

“Even as we speak, friends are boxing up my clothes and personal items to ship to me.” Meg swallowed a sigh. Though it felt good to be “home,” there was much about her life in Omaha that she was going to miss.

“It’s going to be rough on you for a while since you don’t have a paycheck—”

“I also won’t have any rent, utility or food costs,” she reminded him. She didn’t want Travis, or anyone else, feeling sorry for her.

“You’ll need spending money.” Travis reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “Mary Karen and I want you to have this.”

Reluctantly, Meg took the plain white envelope from his outstretched hand. She opened it to find a wad of bills stuffed inside. Even as her heart warmed at her brother’s generosity, Meg pushed the envelope across the table. “I can’t accept this. It’s way too generous. You have your own family—”

“You’re my family, too.” He shoved the envelope back. “I can’t tell you how much it means to have you back in Jackson Hole.”

“Still—”

“Still nothing.” Travis’s jaw set in the determined tilt Meg remembered all too well. “Trust me, Mary Karen and I won’t even miss it. Consider it an early birthday gift.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “We don’t exchange gifts.”

“We’re starting a new tradition,” he said with a straight face.

She had to laugh. She knew her big brother and recognized that this was a fight she wasn’t going to win. “Okay, I’ll take your money. But I’m paying you back.”

“Convince even one of our siblings to come home to Jackson Hole and you’ll have paid me back a thousandfold.”

Meg started to chuckle but stopped when she saw his face.

“I haven’t seen Zac in five years,” Travis said, his voice heavy.

“Me, either.” Meg shook her head. Of all their siblings, Zac had been the most creative. The most headstrong. And next to Travis, the one she missed the most.

While she couldn’t guarantee she’d be able to get one of her brothers and sisters back to Jackson Hole, she’d do her best. Not only for the sake of the man sitting across the table from her, but for her own, as well.

Cole tightened the straps on his knee brace and decided he must have gone crazy. It was the only explanation that made any sense. Why else would he have agreed to let Meg move in?

He slid to the side of the bed and held on to the headboard while pulling himself upright. Catching sight of his reflection in the full-length mirror, he frowned.

While the running pants were comfortable, he felt like he should be going for a jog, rather than entertaining guests.

Not guests, he reminded himself, Meg and Charlie. While Meg might be considered a guest, Charlie was definitely family.

“My son,” Cole whispered the words aloud for the first time, the taste sweet against his tongue.

For the past five years, ever since he’d heard Joy had given birth less than nine months after their fling in Austin, he’d wondered if Charlie was his son.

By the time he’d heard the news, Joy was married to Ty. Still, Cole had contacted her. She’d insisted the baby was her husband’s child, but her words—and the timing—didn’t ring true. When he’d suggested they do a DNA test “just to be sure,” Joy had started to cry.

At that point Cole had let the matter drop. After all, he didn’t know for sure. And, in the eyes of the law, Charlie was considered Ty’s son. Not only that, Ty was a good father and he and Joy were happy together. In the ensuing years, Cole had become a friend to Ty as well as to Joy and a favorite “uncle” to Charlie.

But now everything had changed.

Grabbing his crutches, Cole made his way slowly to the living room to await Charlie and Meg’s arrival. He stifled a groan as he eased into the overstuffed leather chair. The time for making excuses was over. Once Charlie was settled in, he’d start hitting the therapy hard. And he wouldn’t need Meg’s help. No sirree.