The One And Only

“You’ve created a wonderful B and B,” Shelby said sincerely. “You make all your guests feel welcome.”

“It’s because I’m happy. I learned home is truly where the heart is, and this is mine.”

For a minute Shelby wanted desperately to bare her soul to Amelia and to tell her of her own past mistakes and her present quest. She hesitated, the phone rang and the moment was lost.

That was probably better anyway. She didn’t want the information about her search leaking. If her birth mother still lived here, she didn’t want to expose her to the embarrassment of her neighbors knowing about the child she’d given up twenty-nine years ago.

After having her own child and losing it, albeit to death, she didn’t want to cause pain to anyone else. Setting the finished tray in the fridge, Shelby waved to the other woman and went to her room.

She considered the old records in the attic at Beau’s office. They might tell her everything she needed to know without her having to search for a living person.

Tomorrow she would start work for Beau Dalton. She would ask him about going through the records for the Historical Society and volunteer to dispose of them. She considered this plan from all angles and decided it had no problems that she could see.

A picture of intense blue eyes flashed into her mind, eyes that seemed to see right inside her at times. She would have to compose her request beforehand so that she didn’t stumble over the words and arouse his suspicions.

She wondered if he believed her story of finding out about the position here over the Internet.

It was true…as far as it went.

But, of course, it wasn’t the whole story. She’d known exactly where she was going to look for a job.

The town was the only thing she knew about her birth mother. A copper bracelet had been forgotten and left at the birthing clinic. It had been made by a Nez Perce family and sold through a gift shop here in Lost Valley. The nurse had put it with her belongings when her adoptive parents had come to pick her up.

Shelby removed the bracelet from her small jewelry carrier, a velvet roll-up bag with several pockets her aunt, one of her father’s sisters, had given her at graduation years ago. The copper gleamed brightly in the afternoon light from the window. Its polished stones were engraved with intricate symbols, similar to Egyptian scarabs but using birds and plants for models.

She didn’t think her parents had been Native American, but that was a possibility. After considering wearing the bracelet, she reluctantly put it away. She had no idea whether anyone might recognize it, but she wasn’t ready to take that chance. Not yet.

With a rueful smile, she admitted she’d learned caution in her old age. Her birth mother must have learned it, too.

The lines from a poem studied long ago came to her.

I was young, as was my heart;

And I followed where it led—

Followed my heart and not my head,

Those days

When I was young, as was my heart.

Some wistful part of her longed to be that young, confident girl again, excited about life and all that it could hold.

A more cynical part of her scoffed at the idea.

She knew which part to believe.

Chapter Three

S helby didn’t like the way her insides got all in a knot when she parked at the far end of the paved area beside the Lost Valley Medical Clinic. The first day on a new job was always nerve-racking, but she’d worked with many doctors in many situations at the hospital in her hometown. Today was no different from any other.

Except that she would be working with Beau Dalton and her reasons weren’t purely medical.

Well, she couldn’t sit in the car all day. Still, she hesitated for another few seconds. Scolding herself for being a coward, she climbed out of her subcompact station wagon and went inside.

“Hi,” Beau greeted from the door to his office. “I was wondering if you were going to come inside or if you’d changed your mind already.”

The receptionist wasn’t in sight, so Shelby assumed they were alone. Perhaps this was an opportunity to mention the old files. She took a calming breath, then started. “I haven’t changed my mind. In fact, I’ve been sent on a mission here.”

He gestured toward his office. “We have a few minutes. Come in and tell me about it.”

She glanced over his bookcases and briefly studied the diplomas and plaques that doctors acquired during their years of training. He’d taken courses in both diagnostics and surgery procedures, making him well qualified for a general practice in a small town.

“Do you approve?” he asked in some amusement.

“Very much. Are you planning on doing surgery here?”

“Only for emergencies. I have arrangements with a surgeon in Boise to perform scheduled operations. You were going to tell me about your mission?”

“Oh, yes.” She explained about the Historical Society and its needs.

“The old records,” he murmured, his eyes on her. “The attic is full of ’em. You know, that’s a good idea. I’ll help you go through them so we don’t miss any of the founding fathers and mothers, then we’ll shred the files.”

She was sure he didn’t realize he was staring at her while he considered, but she was very aware of that deep blue gaze burning holes in her skin. Electricity zinged along every nerve, so much so that she hardly registered his decision to help her. Then it hit her.

“Oh,” she said. “Uh, you don’t have to help. I mean, all that dust to be stirred up. And it’ll probably take a lot of time.”

He merely nodded. “It’ll be interesting, checking the old records. I’m familiar with most of the original families, so that should speed things along.”

She realized to protest further would arouse suspicion. He was too quick on the uptake to deceive. Not that she was doing anything wrong. At least she didn’t think she was. So why did she feel sneaky and underhanded?

Answer—the clear blue gaze that stared right into her soul. She looked away with an effort.

He reached over and stroked gently along her cheek. She whipped around, startled.

“I just had to see if your skin was as soft as it looked. It is,” he told her.

His smile wasn’t bold or teasing or sardonic. Instead he seemed pensive and lost in his own thoughts as questions flickered through his eyes. Some part of her also questioned the awareness between them and what it meant.

“I think,” he said in a husky tone, “that together we may be flint and steel.”

He touched the hair at her temple, then, without losing contact, moved his hand until he curled a finger under her chin and lifted her face so he could study her more closely.

Alarm whipped through her. “No,” she whispered.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, as if amused by the odd play between them. “No?”

Their eyes met and held. A door opened and footsteps sounded in the hall. The moment shattered like dropped crystal. “Hello?” a feminine voice called.

“In here,” he called. “It’s Ruth Stein. Have you met her?” he asked Shelby.

During the next few minutes Shelby met Ruth, the nurse-midwife, a woman in her late forties who was married to one of the two brothers who owned the hardware store. The receptionist was Alberta Stein, married to the other brother and also in her mid to late forties.

That’s where the similarity ended, Shelby noted. Ruth was close to six feet tall and pleasingly plump. Bertie, as the other was called, topped the chart at maybe five-two and a hundred pounds. Shelby, in the middle at five-five and average weight, was amused to see they formed a perfect set of stair steps as they shook hands and exchanged greetings.

“Why do I suddenly feel outnumbered?” Beau demanded, managing to appear worried about his safety.

“Because you are,” Ruth assured him. “You’d better behave yourself in this office.”

“I promise to curb my wilder tendencies.” He cut a glance at Shelby. “Although I make no such claims for when we’re outside office hours.”

A sizzle of undefined emotion rushed along her nerves as the two older women followed his gaze, then smiled at her with speculation as well as kindness in their eyes.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Beau said conversationally.

“Very much so,” Bertie agreed.

“Watch him,” Ruth advised. “If he gives you any trouble, let us know.”

“I will,” Shelby promised as the other three laughed with the easy camaraderie of those long known to each other. “You know, I think I’m going to like it here.” She couldn’t resist giving her boss a challenging sideways glance.

“You women,” he scoffed, then ducked into his office as the phone rang. “I’ll get it.”

“Time to start work,” Bertie said cheerfully, going to her desk at the front of the office.

Shelby realized it was exactly eight o’clock. The day had truly begun. She wondered when she could get at the files in the attic.

At five that afternoon Shelby hung up the phone on her last call. She’d completed all the follow-up calls to the parents of those students who needed additional care per Beau’s instructions, so all was in order for school to start in two weeks. Since she didn’t have classes, she technically had no other duties until that time.

Returning to the B and B, she changed to shorts, tank top and jogging shoes, then headed for the path on the other side of town. There, she noticed all the new building going on around the lake formed by the reservoir dam as she jogged along the trail.

Most of the houses were impressive, and she wondered how so many people had the money to build such large homes. She gazed wistfully at the cottage that was for sale next to a large building that looked as if it would be a resort. Her heart dipped when she saw a Sold sign on the tiny house.

“Hey, hello!”

She stopped in surprise when Beau Dalton yelled and waved her over. Going to where he and a couple of other men worked on the foundation of the resort, she couldn’t help but gasp when the trio smiled at her.

She couldn’t recall ever being in the presence of three more dynamic men, all of them similar in their blue-eyed, dark-haired good looks, two of them as alike as the proverbial peas. They all wore old cargo shorts or cutoffs with sneakers and no shirts.

Bronzed, broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, they exuded masculine power and confidence. She found herself wary, on guard against the overwhelming aura of force they unconsciously represented.

Beau gestured to the other two. “My cousins, Travis and Trevor. And yes, they’re twins.”

“Glad to meet you,” one of the twins said.

“Ditto,” the other said with decidedly more enthusiasm, unbridled interest leaping into his eyes.

Shelby felt a bit flustered.

“Down, boy,” Beau said to his cousin. “Trev is a nuisance, but harmless,” he then assured her.

“Pay no attention,” Trevor advised. “He’s just jealous of my charm and wit.”

“Ha,” Beau scoffed. “I once heard a teacher tell him that each time he opened his mouth, general knowledge decreased proportionally.”

Smiling and nodding, she listened to their easy teasing and wished she’d had cousins like these. Trevor took her arm and urged her toward the structure they worked on.

“Lies, all lies,” he said. “Would you like a tour of the lodge?”

“Well, uh, yes. I think,” she amended with exaggerated uncertainty.

Beau swept her away from his cousin. “I need to discuss business with her,” he said loftily.

Trevor sighed in disgust, grinned at her, then returned to work with his twin, setting a foundation sill in place.

Beau, still holding her wrist, led her toward the cottage. “Zack said you were interested in the cottage.”

“I was hoping I could rent it. But it’s sold.”

Dropping her arm, he stepped onto the small brick porch with its charming white columns and rails and unlocked the door. “Enter,” he invited with a grand sweep of his hand.

She did so. “Oh,” she murmured in delight. “It’s as lovely as I thought it would be.”

A half wall divided the living room from the kitchen. White wainscoting in beadboard lined the bottom third of the rooms. Stenciled vines on pale golden walls framed windows and doors. White curtains, looking as freshly washed and starched as her grandmother’s, wafted in the breeze from the mountains. The furniture was mismatched, well-used and simply wonderful.

“You like?” he asked.

“Yes. It reminds me of home. My mother and I stayed with my grandmother a couple of weeks each summer. Her house was like this.”

Her throat closed and she had to stop. Her grandmother had died last summer and the house had been sold.

“You miss them,” he said, his voice deep, rich with understanding that added to her sudden emotion.

She managed a smile. “Yes.”

“Going off on an adventure seems exciting, but then you realize how far you are from home. I went to medical school back east. It was hell.”

Nodding, she continued the tour, needing to escape his kindness and the yearning that bloomed in her like a weed in an orderly garden. She wasn’t here for this.

The kitchen was pale green with white woodwork and yellow accents in a wall clock and the cushions on ladder-back chairs. It was the windows she liked best. Covering most of the back wall, they showed off the view to perfection—lake and mountains and blue, blue sky. A bit of heaven tucked into this high valley.

The bedroom was the only other room. It and a rather large bathroom occupied the other side of the house. The bed, rocking chair, table and armoire were oak. A dustcover protected the queen-size bed that was so high it needed two oak steps to get to it.

The ceiling was vaulted and covered with whitewashed beadboard. A fan was mounted high in the center of it. The walls were creamy beige, again with attractive stencils, but of climbing roses in yellow and pink shades this time.

“Lovely,” she murmured. Her voice was a husky whisper, sounding loud in the silent house. She swallowed, suddenly nervous about being here with this alluring man.

“Yes.”

His voice was unexpectedly close. She glanced over her shoulder and found him only inches away. Slowly she turned.

Her eyes were on a level with his chest. The curly hair there was coal-black, scattered sparsely over his bronzed skin. The defined pectoral muscles flexed once, then went still as she stared at this monument to human male perfection. She lifted a hand, then stopped.

He caught her hand and pressed it flat against him.

The air became heavy, expectant. She had to open her mouth to get it into her lungs. She raised her eyes from the well-developed pecs to his throat, then upward, until she gazed at his mouth. Longing, sharp and poignant, filled her.

“Do it,” he said in a low, strained tone.

“What?” She hardly knew what she said.

“What your eyes are saying you want.”

“I don’t…want…” She didn’t continue because she didn’t know what she wanted…no, because she knew what she shouldn’t want, but did.

“I do,” he murmured. “I want to touch you.”

His lips touched hers, soft, dry, a fleeting brush of mouth over mouth. She licked her lips. His eyes, when she looked up, were dark and mysterious deep blue pools to drown in. She yearned to dive in, to never leave.

No. It was a mistake to give in to desire and let passion lead her into temptation. Once she’d mistaken a romantic dream for a lasting love. She wasn’t so foolish now. She reminded herself of all she’d learned from the past. Hearts were fragile things. They could break again, and again, and yet again.

He moved his hand, slowly caressing her face with fingers that trembled ever so slightly. The passion dazzled, beckoned from his dark, heated gaze.

Fear stirred through her, warning her of the danger. “Dr. Dalton,” she said, the beginning of a protest.

“Beau,” he corrected, and removed the band from her hair. He pushed it into his pocket, then spiked his fingers into the freed tresses, cupping his broad, gentle hands around her skull and holding her still when she would have turned away from those eyes, that mouth.

“Beau,” she said, and wondered why she did and how it could feel so right on her tongue. “Beau.”

So old-fashioned, Beau, with an innocent ring of days long ago. When she’d been young, she would have believed in that innocence.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”

The kiss wasn’t a simple brushing of lips over lips this time. It was man to woman, all heat and demand and whimsical yearning.

The impact went all the way down to her toes, something she couldn’t recall ever experiencing before, not with this intensity, these flashes of fire that burned and ached within until she wanted to cry out.

With a gasp she opened to him, letting the kiss go deeper, until she was filled with it. Wonder washed through her and took all traces of fear with it. Breathing became difficult, then unnecessary.

When he at last released her mouth, he laid a trail of flame along her cheek. “You have the smoothest skin. I’ve wanted to touch you since that first meeting, to see if the fire in your hair was in your blood.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Heaven help me, yes,” he said.

But she knew who needed help here. Sanity returned through the foggy haze of hunger. She laid her hands flat against his chest, then lingered to caress the hair-roughened skin. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not?”

She forced herself to search for a reason even as she continued to touch him. “You’re my boss.”

“We’re colleagues.”

“We work in the same—”

“Shh,” he ordered, but softly, his voice a caress, too.

“I know this isn’t wise.” She wished she didn’t sound so desperate.

“I agree.”

Running his hand under her tank top, he rubbed across her back, trailing his fingers into the indentation of her spine and sliding them up and down. He explored farther.

“Where’s the catch?” he asked.

“It’s a sports bra. There isn’t one.”

“Oh.”

He explored the cotton material with his sure, skillful touch that sent cascades of sensation down, down, down into her. Excitement grew as she experienced the enticing movement of his hard body against hers.

The rainbow hues of mutual need slowly overtook her as they kissed again, then again, each time more deeply, more intimately. He skimmed her breasts, then cupped them in his palms and rubbed his thumbs along the hard points that formed under his touch.

The sounds of a hammer next door disappeared. The lazy drone of a fly against the window became but an odd counter-beat to the drumming in her heart.

“Never thought I’d feel this,” he said, pushing her top up and staring at the outline of her nipples against the gray cotton of her sports bra. He looked into her eyes. “I never knew hunger could be this strong.”

She couldn’t look away from the blazing need. “It’s too strong,” she protested softly. “Too much, too soon.”

“But it’s there.”

His gaze dared her to deny it. She couldn’t. “I don’t want to feel this.”

“Then stop it,” he said, mocking her. He nibbled at her breasts through the cloth. “I can’t.” He pressed his face into the valley between her breasts and inhaled deeply. “But then, I don’t want to.”

Before she quite realized what was happening, he took a step, then another. She stepped back with him, following as if they engaged in some strange dance, accompanied by the mad music in her blood, that took them wherever it would.

When she felt the bed behind her knees, she realized, with a stricken jolt, exactly where they were going.

“Beau…” she said raggedly, pushing against him.

Her voice sounded reedy and uncertain. She shook her head when he bent to her mouth once more. He clasped her hands, moved them behind her, pulling her close, and took her mouth in a kiss that demanded total participation.

Panic eddied through her blood even as electricity arced between them. This had to stop. She had to…to breathe, but she couldn’t…she couldn’t think…

Her thoughts were like a flock of wild birds, whirling and swirling through her mind too swiftly and too frightened to come to the perch of reason. She struggled to free her hand, got one loose and, twisting, raked down his chest with her fingernails—an instinctive act of self-preservation.

His head jerked up. They stared at one another.

Slowly he released her and backed up a step. The breath rushed into her lungs, making her dizzy.

Glancing down, he observed the four red lines standing in ridges on his skin. He turned his gaze from them to her. “No woman has ever marked me before,” he said, not in anger or accusation, but as if in deep thought, as if wondering about the marks—how they’d happened and why.

Pressing her shaky hands against her breast, she confessed, “I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t know why I did. It…it was like I couldn’t breathe. Everything was going dark.” She stopped because she didn’t know how to explain the unexplainable.

He smiled and it was full of gentle irony. The ache inside her returned. “I don’t think I’ve ever frightened a woman before, certainly not like this.” He touched her cheek with exquisite tenderness. “It’s strong, isn’t it?”

She clasped her arms over her middle and nodded.

“This hunger,” he continued as if thinking out loud. “It’s different, more than I’ve ever experienced, so much so that I didn’t get your signals at first.”

“Signals?”

“The panic,” he reminded her softly, and rubbed across her lips with one finger, then dropped his hand and stepped back another foot, giving her room. “I was too lost…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “That’s never happened to me before—to get so lost in passion that everything else disappeared. It’ll be different next time,” he promised.

She moved sideways until she was on a line for the door. She hurried toward it. She managed to laugh and pretend it was all a joke. “I don’t think we should attempt a next time.”

“I do.”

The words were barely audible as she rushed across the charming living room and out the front door. The hammering at the resort stopped. She stared distractedly at the twin brothers, who stared back with frank interest.

The door closed behind her.

“Do you want the place?” Beau asked. “I’ll keep the rent reasonable.”

“You?” she questioned, turning from the stares next door.

“I bought the cottage. It seemed a good idea since it was next to the lodge. The new homeowners might have given us trouble over parking or noisy guests.”

She tried to think clearly. “Perhaps it would be best if—” She faltered on the brink of refusing the offer. She glanced at the cottage and knew she still wanted it.

“Good. Do you need help moving in?”

“No.”

“Okay. I have to get back to work. See you in the morning. I’ll give you a key then.”

She blinked and realized he thought she had accepted. But why shouldn’t she rent it? It was charming. It fit her needs. She would have it to herself. She followed him down the flagstone path to the road. “Wait, the rent,” she reminded him. “How much?”

“Two hundred a month.”

She stopped. “That’s a steal.”

He grinned over his shoulder. “So maybe you’ll feel guilty enough to invite me over for a home-cooked meal once in a while.”

With that, he strode across the grass and got back to work. His cousins looked at her, then him. Feeling that they knew every intimate touch that had occurred between her and Beau, she swung toward town and jogged back to the B and B as calmly as possible.

“Will you look at that?” Trevor said in awe.

Beau gave him a warning glare. He looked around, spotted his T-shirt and put it on.

“What happened while you were showing a prospective renter the house?” Trev demanded.

“Nothing,” Beau muttered, tightening a bolt against the mud sill.