Rocky Mountain Legacy

He’d compared them, but Cade now realized Sara Woodward was nothing like his sister. Karen was a product of her environment, strong and tough like the land abutting the Rockies. Sara, with her dainty figure, exotic scarf and that mass of bouncing golden curls, was more like one of Karen’s delicate porcelain wedding dolls, the ones that belonged in a glass box on a high shelf where the hard knocks of life could not reach.

And yet, in the depths of Sara’s eyes he caught a glimpse of a woman with inner fire and determination. But she was not comfortable with her world.

Cade couldn’t make the pieces fit. Sara had family here, guaranteed job security in the family business. She had at least one sister and one brother that he knew of, and a grandmother who could be called upon if needed. Everything he longed for.

So why did she seem so desperate to run away from them?

“Families are precious. They should be treasured,” he said, and wished he hadn’t when she tossed a glare toward the window and her brother.

“I do treasure my family. Very much.” Her jaw thrust out an inch farther. “But sometimes I have to escape them.”

“Why?”

“Let’s get back to your wedding.” Sara ignored the question, tapped her notepad. “Are we settled on a church for the ceremony?”

Cade kept his focus on her, wishing she’d explain.

“Or you could wait till my grandmother is back.”

“I don’t want to wait.” It took about ten seconds to reach a decision. Cade sat up straight, pushed his shoulders back. “I’ll think about a location. In the meantime, what else do I need to decide to get this thing rolling?”

“Without a firm date it’s difficult to plan a lot, but you could begin to consider invitations, color schemes.” Sara raised one eyebrow. “I’m guessing you won’t choose the bride’s dress?”

“Given your current job, I guess that question is understandable.” He grinned, leaned back in his seat, senses enmeshed in the spicy fragrance of her perfume. “Think more ‘big picture,’ Sara.”

“What? Most brides think clothes are a very important part of wedding. Wedding gowns, tuxedos.” She chuckled at his huff of distaste and continued.

But the more she listed, the more Cade felt like a man drowning. Sara must have noticed because she finally paused.

“It’s a lot to handle,” she said, her voice softening. “Maybe you need to rethink this idea.”

Maybe he did. Nothing about organizing Karen’s wedding seemed as simple as it had back on the ranch. But that didn’t mean Cade was giving up.

“I need a little time to wrap my mind around the details, that’s all.”

“Take all the time you need. I better get back to work.”

While Sara dabbed her lips on a napkin, Cade tossed some money on the table, then led the way outside, holding her arm until she pulled it away.

He checked the sidewalk, expecting to see Reese.

“I guess your brother had to leave.”

“Yeah. Probably to give his report.”

“Report?” He didn’t understand that comment, or what had drained the sparkle from her eyes, but the Woodward family wasn’t his business. “Because Reese isn’t here, I’ll walk you back to the store.”

“Thanks, but I can manage without you or my brother to guide me. I’ve been finding my own way around L.A. for a while now.” Hostility leeched through the sour words.

“I don’t doubt you can.” Cade hadn’t sensed tension between sister and brother earlier, which made him even more curious about the Woodwards, especially about Sara. “I have to walk there anyway. My car’s parked across from the store.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She walked beside him in a mincing pace, almost falling flat on her face when her heel caught in a sidewalk crack. She recovered quickly, tossed him a smile. “I thought all cowboys drove trucks?”

“I don’t bring my truck into town unless I’m hauling something. Too many bad drivers ready to dent it. And, yes, all the stories about ranchers treating their trucks like babies are true. Hey!” Cade grabbed her just in time and held on until Sara had regained her balance again. “Are those things comfortable?”

“Not in the least,” Sara told him, fingers pressing into his arm as she righted herself. “But Katie insists they’re the only appropriate footwear for my work at Woodwards. I usually work in sneakers and jeans.”

“I imagine you look very nice in those, too.” A sense of loss suffused him when her arm slid out from his. “Oh, we’re here already.”

“Whenever you want to talk again, stop in.” Sara’s eyes lost their brooding, lightened to a rich cocoa. “We’ll do our best to help. But I think you should wait and talk to Karen. Then listen. She might have other reasons for wanting to elope.”

“Like what?” Cade resented the inference that he didn’t know exactly how Karen thought. His baby sister was an open book to him.

“Talk to her. She’ll tell you.”

“Will you be here if I come back?”

“I don’t know.” An internal struggle turned her eyes a shade of bittersweet. “Probably.”

The expressionless gaze she’d first assumed at the store, the “mask” look that hid her emotions, slid into place. He disliked it intensely.

“Well, thanks for coffee and the croissants.” Sara’s clear natural glow reminded Cade of the foothills of his ranch where mountain springs tumbled down in a rush of sparkling droplets chased by sunbeams. Her orange scarf was like a mountain lily.

Cade blinked. Loneliness was definitely affecting him.

“You’ve given me a lot of wedding details to think about. What if we meet tomorrow?”

Sara’s eyes widened with surprise.

“You mean, you still want me to work with you, even though I’m not staying?”

“You have an original perspective. Karen would like that.” His sister’s penchant for the uncommon had often been a source of contention between them.

“You must miss her a lot.”

Cade hadn’t realized how much until he met Sara.

“Karen hasn’t lived at home full-time for ages, but when she did, life was good. With my sister around there was always something going on. She enriched my life, made it fun. I miss that. I miss her.”

Sara went very still. Her face tilted upward as she studied him. Cade stood immobile under her scrutiny, waiting for the question he saw reflected in her eyes. But she didn’t ask.

So suddenly it made him catch his breath, her face altered, her voice emerged warm and generous.

“I’m just the substitute at Woodwards, so I don’t have any regular clients, which means I have a lot of free time. I could meet you whenever you like to brainstorm something wonderful for Karen’s wedding.”

Cade wasn’t about to waste his opportunity.

“I have to be in town tomorrow morning for some business. Could you meet me at Cartier’s Café at noon?”

“Cartier’s? Sure. But Woodwards has lots of—” Sara blinked, then waggled a finger at him, eyes twinkling. “You’re trying to avoid going back into the store, aren’t you?”

“If at all possible,” he admitted honestly. “How did you guess?”

“Your face. Lots of men find the environment a little—overpowering. The family has been trying to get Winnie to scale back, at least in reception.”

“But?”

Sara shrugged.

“Granny Winnie is an incurable romantic, that’s how she got started in this business. Yards of tulle, tons of hearts and flowers—it’s been a part of her world for so long I doubt she could envision Woodwards any other way now.”

“Why should she?” Cade tilted his head back to study the ivory stone facade of the building. “Her way obviously works. I was told Weddings by Woodwards assisted with more than four hundred weddings last year.”

“And each of them was absolutely perfect. That’s my family.” There it was again, that proud but irritated tone. “How did you choose Woodwards, Cade?”

“I talked to some friends of Karen who told me that if I wanted a spectacular wedding, Weddings by Woodwards was the only way.”

“I see.” Sara’s eyes narrowed. She made a notation on her pad, then lifted her head, brown eyes narrowed. “These friends—are they good friends? The kind of friends your sister would ask to be her attendants if she were planning her own wedding?”

Cade slowly nodded. Sara Woodward may have been out of the family business for a while, but she caught on to his line of thinking faster than the ranch foreman who’d been working for him for ten years.

“Exactly that kind of friend,” he told her.

She grinned, her eyes dancing.

“Now we’re cooking. Tonight I want you to write down everything you can think of about Karen. Bring your notes and her album tomorrow. That will give us a place to start.”

“Okay.”

Sara was easy to talk to. Cade surprised himself by prattling on and on about how much he wanted his sister to come home, how he worried about her safety, fussed about her future happiness.

When Sara’s attention slipped from him, Cade turned, saw a diminutive figure in black in the display window, writing in big brown letters.

Do you want your wedding to look like this?

“That’s Winnie!”

“But I thought—” Cade trailed behind Sara into the store, right up to the narrow door from which she’d first emerged. He halted, knowing how tight the fit was.

Sara slipped through.

“Winnie? What are you doing here?”

He heard a forced cough, then a familiar voice that didn’t sound the least bit ill.

“Hello, darling. I thought I’d stop by to check on things. I figured the twins must have rearranged the window, so I—”

“Never mind the twins,” Sara scolded. “You’re supposed to be at home. Resting. Come on, out you go.”

Cade stepped back as Sara emerged, leading her grandmother. He’d only seen photographs of Winifred Woodward, but she looked exactly like the elegant duchess in her publicity photos. Today she wore a black sheath dress with silver jewelry and high heels. She looked significantly younger than her rumored age. Her silver white curls were swept up into a regal style that enhanced merry brown eyes and rose-tinted cheekbones.

“You’re Cade Porter, I think.” She thrusted out a tiny blue-veined hand to grasp his. “Winifred Woodward. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep our appointment.”

“I’m sorry you’re not well.” Except she looked the picture of health.

“It’s just a cold. My family is overreacting.” Winnie patted Sara’s cheek. “I’m getting better every day.”

“You don’t sound better. Your voice is scratchy.” Sara frowned. “How did you get here, Grandmother?”

“A cab.” She brushed her fingers against Sara’s golden curls. “Don’t be angry, dear. I couldn’t sit around that house a moment longer. I’m used to being busy.”

“Katie said the doctors ordered rest. You’re to follow their advice, Granny. That’s why I came.” She grasped the old lady’s arm as Winifred tried to stem a bout of coughing. “Now you’ve tired yourself out. Home you go.”

“I never thought you’d try to tell me what to do.” Winifred’s perfectly made-up face wore a sly look. “You, of all people, Sara. Aren’t you the one who’s always championing your right to live your life your own way?”

“I’m not sick. And my doctor didn’t tell me to stay in bed.”

“I thought I heard—Grandmother?” Katie rushed into the room and, seizing the older woman’s arm, seated her in one of the fussy chairs that littered the foyer. “Look at you. Your face is as white as a calla lily. You’ll probably faint any moment.”

Cade thought Katie’s concern was exaggerated considering Winifred hadn’t exhibited any sign of fainting. But it was nice to see the old lady was cherished.

“I’m fine,” Winifred repeated. Her smile looked slightly forced now.

“You’re not. Your hand is too warm and you’re sniffling.”

“She’s going home, Katie. I’ll take her.” Sara shuffled papers on the desktop, obviously searching for something. “Do you know where my car keys are? I’m sure I left them beside the phone.”

“Oh, dear.”

Katie fluttered her eyelashes at him, then pressed her fingertips against her lips. In Cade’s opinion this was the sister who belonged in Hollywood, except Katie’s acting was too forced. And why was she looking at him like that?

“Is something wrong?”

“Well, you see, Reese’s car wouldn’t start,” Katie said. “He had to get to another appointment, so I gave him Sara’s car keys. I didn’t think she’d need them and he promised he wouldn’t be long.”

“Then I’ll take yours, Katie.” Sara held out her hand.

“No! You can’t have them.” Katie’s shrill voice broke on a nervous laugh at their stares of surprise. “I mean, that’s the problem. I put my car in the shop this morning for an oil change. If I’d known we’d need it—”

Something about Katie’s quick response bothered him, but Cade wasn’t going to speculate. He needed to get back to the ranch. But when Mrs. Woodward’s thin form shuddered and another cough rattled her tiny figure, he put his own plans aside.

“I’ll be happy to drive you home, ma’am. My car’s just across the street.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll call a cab.” She wheezed out the words, her handkerchief muffling something he didn’t quite catch.

“It’s not a problem. Please, allow me.” Cade held out his arm, surprised by the weakness of her grip when she rose. The old lady must be sicker than she looked. “I could bring the car around to the front door if it’s too difficult for you to walk.”

“I’m fine. Sara, where’s my coat? Oh, good. Now you come here on the other side where I can hold on to you. All of a sudden I’ve gone a bit wobbly.”

Sara obeyed immediately, casting him an apologetic look behind her grandmother’s back.

Cade told himself to mind his own business when it seemed Winifred fussed needlessly. To her credit, Sara kept softly reassuring her as they crossed the street to his car. Winifred insisted on sitting in the back. Alone.

“I can spread out then,” she husked, her voice significantly worse than it had been moments earlier. She closed her eyes. “I’ll rest a few moments. I’m a bit tired. I gave Vivian the day off, so I’ll need Sara to help me to bed. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind waiting to drive her back here, Cade. It would be so kind of you.”

“No.” Sara glanced at him. “It’s not necessary, Grandmother.”

“No worries.” Cade held open her door, waited until Sara was seated. As he closed the door, he noted Winifred’s sparkling eyes and the funny smile lifting her lips. When she saw him watching, she quickly shut her eyes.

He got in the driver’s seat, curiosity rampant.

“If you turn right at the next corner, we’ll go that way. Winnie lives in Cherry Creek.” Sara glanced over one shoulder as if she worried about disturbing her grandmother.

Cherry Creek was the “old money” side of town, filled with posh houses and beautiful landscapes. Cade drove toward it silently, content to watch the exchanges between the two.

Her affectionate care of her grandmother was admirable, but Cade didn’t think this was the real Sara. She was hiding her true feelings. Personally, he far preferred the honest, open woman with whom he’d shared croissants at the coffee shop to this dutiful person who slavishly agreed with every demand her grandmother made. But he kept silent as Sara handed the old woman out of the car and ushered her into the house.

“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’ll stay here,” she said five minutes later when she returned. They were alone and the real Sara was back.

“You want me to disobey her edict that I drive you back to the store?”

“Yes. I want to make sure Granny goes right to bed.”

“Okay. What time is good for tomorrow?” He saw she’d forgotten.

“Tomor—Oh, lunch.” Sara frowned. “When I agreed to help out in the store, I told Katie I’d take a noon lunch hour. Does that work for you?” She tried to step backward and lost her balance.

“Perfect.” Cade steadied her with a grin. “But in case you change shoes between now and then, I better make sure I know exactly who I’m meeting. How tall are you—without the stilts?” He enjoyed the flush of color dotting her cheekbones.

“Never mind,” was all she said, making it obvious she had height issues.

“Ah. What other secrets are you hiding? A glass eye? Wooden leg?”

Sara lifted one eyebrow. “I’ll never tell.”

“That’s an invitation I can’t resist.” Cade pulled open his car door. “Tomorrow, twelve noon at Cartier’s. Bring your ideas.”

“I should probably warn you, some of my ideas have been called a little, um, off the wall.” Sara tilted her head to one side, studying his reaction.

A wayward ringlet danced in the breeze, then settled against her cheek in a gentle caress. Cade swallowed.

“It’s the off-the-wall ideas that usually turn out best, Sara Woodward,” he said softly so the old woman leaning out the window above them wouldn’t hear. “Don’t you know that yet?”

“I know. I wasn’t sure you did.” She grinned. “Cade Porter, this might be fun.”

He got into the car, his knees as weak as if he just climbed off his horse after a four-day trail ride. “I believe it will be.”

He drove back to the ranch slowly, savoring the memory of Sara’s smile, a picture that stuck with him long after he should have been immersed in the mundane duties of his day.

But later that night, staring up at the stars, Cade knew daydreaming about a woman like Sara Woodward was pointless. He’d lost his chance for love and family the day Marnie died. That’s when he’d known that God’s will for him didn’t include his cherished dream of a wife and family of his own.

So Cade would ignore his emotional draw to Sara Woodward. He’d concentrate on throwing Karen the best wedding he could. He’d continue to hope and pray his sister would choose to live at the ranch or at least nearby. Most of all, he’d accept that his future was to be a solitary one. He had to. He’d learned his lesson too well.

When God made up His mind, He didn’t change it.

Chapter Three

“You’re spending a lot of time in front of the mirror this morning, sis. Any special reason?”

“If you had to cart those musty old wedding catalogs out of the storeroom, you’d be checking yourself for dust, too.” Sara avoided Katie’s quizzical gaze. “I’m not sure why you chose me for that crummy job, but I sure got filthy. I’m glad you forgot you’d left this suit from the cleaners here. I needed a change.”

“You look great in it.”

“Thanks. I worked up an appetite, too. I can hardly wait for lunch.”

“Hmm.” Katie turned away, checked the clock. “It’s early, but you might as well go now, while it’s quiet. Who knows what the afternoon will bring?”

“As long as it’s not more dust.” She paused, chose her words carefully. “I’m meeting someone for lunch, so I probably won’t be back early.”

Sara had expected her sister to start asking questions. Yet Katie seemed oddly uninterested in anything except the computer in front of her.

“Fine.”

“Okay, then, see you later.”

“Uh-huh.” Katie didn’t even glance at her. That was odd.

Sara stepped through the door and lifted her face, reveling in the sun’s warmth. Even L.A. weather couldn’t match the startling clarity of an October morning in Denver. Crisp leaves hung in shimmering burned umber against the cerulean sky. Tiny gusts of wind danced several fallen ones across the sidewalk in front of her. They crackled when she stepped on them.

God’s in His heaven, all’s right with the world.

Adam Woodward, Sara’s grandfather, had penned Robert Browning’s famous poem in his diary many times in the last months of his life. In her senior year of high school, when Sara had discovered the leather-bound volume, she’d read it. There she’d felt more kinship with a man she’d never met than she’d ever known with her family.

She’d begged Winnie to provide other journals and poured over them, too, identifying with her grandfather’s yearning to leave Europe and the family pottery business to make his own mark in America. The porcelain doll faces Winnie kept in a special glass case proved Grandpa Adam’s talent. They also whetted Sara’s creative itch.

Her grandfather’s faith was the one thing Sara couldn’t share. She’d never felt the close bond with God that her grandfather wrote about, never felt accepted or approved of by God. Never felt she fit into the image the minister described. Her family’s easy faith made Sara uncomfortable in church, as if she didn’t measure up. As if she didn’t have the right to be there, to pretend she belonged where she so clearly didn’t.

Years later not a lot had changed in her faith journey.

Sara quashed an inner voice that asked her why and instead concentrated on the beautiful day.

The nonlethal shoes Sara borrowed from Abby Franklin, Woodwards’ chief jeweler, made the two-block walk to Cartier’s fly past. Sara wouldn’t admit her light heart had a thing to do with the fact that she would see Cade Porter in a few minutes. Of course not. He was a client, a very nice one, but only a client. But she couldn’t dislodge a tiny tremor of anticipation quaking in her midsection.

Until reality hit.

“Mother?” Sara flopped against the entrance column in a rush of disbelief. Her parents were in Italy. That was why she’d had to come home to help out.

“Hello, darling!” Fiona Woodward enveloped Sara in a cloud of expensive perfume. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” After a moment she drew away. “Love that suit.”

“Thanks.” Sara knew from experience how easily her mother could evade questions. “What are you doing here, Mom? I thought you were—”

“In Italy. We were.” Fiona preened a little, flashing an anniversary ring Sara had never seen before. “Your father and I flew home this morning, a few days early so we could help with the big society wedding on Saturday. We decided to stop for lunch before going to the store. Are you home for a while?”

A quick scan of the restaurant showed Sara that Cade had not yet arrived. Given her mother’s insatiable curiosity about every detail of her life, Sara considered that a definite blessing.

“Honey?” Her mother twisted to survey the area. “Are you meeting someone?”

There was no point prevaricating. Her mother would find out. She always did. Then the questions would be nonstop.

“I am meeting a friend for lunch.” Sara opened her eyes wide and smiled innocently. “But I want to hear all about your trip.”

“Meaning you’ll be in town for a few days?” Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “How lovely. We’ll have time to talk. I must run now, though. Your father went to snag a cab.”

Grandma Winnie!

“Mom, there’s something you should—”

“No time now, darling. Later. After work.” With a quick buss cheek to cheek, Fiona rushed away, high heels tapping against the concrete.

Sara raised her hand to call her back, but her mother closed the door on a cab and it was too late to say anything to prepare them for Winnie’s illness. Well, maybe it was better if Katie did it. They’d listen to her.

Good thing Cade wasn’t here yet. No telling how long her mother would have stayed if she’d known about him. Why hadn’t she refused to help him? Getting involved in his sister’s wedding would only give the family more leverage. Now her parents were back, maybe she could return to L.A., although she’d go without having done any of the special-effects work she’d hoped to begin.

A hand brushed her arm.

“Hello.” Cade’s blue eyes sparkled in the sunshine. “Been waiting long?”

“Actually I just arrived.”

“Bad morning?” His hand rested against her waist as he escorted her to the maître d’s desk.

Sara pretended nonchalance while her heart leaped at the contact.

“My mother was here.”

“I’m sorry I missed her.”

I’m not.

“She and my father have been in Italy, celebrating their anniversary. I had no idea they were coming back today. I don’t think anyone else does, either.” In fact, judging by Katie’s plan to clear out storerooms, Sara was certain her parents were supposed to be gone for at least another week.