A Weaver Proposal

But then, when Maggie clasped her hand and she noticed that everyone around the table was doing the same, she realized what “grace” meant to these people.

She reluctantly set her palm into the upturned one that Derek had rested on the table between their two plates and it took all of her willpower not to jerk it back when his long fingers closed over hers, capturing it but good.

He, she noted, didn’t close his eyes or bow his head even a fraction, as his father gave a brief blessing for the meal.

And when the amen was said and everyone turned their attention to the meal, and pizza boxes were thrown open and passed hither and yon, Sydney spread her napkin on her lap and eyed him. “Not showing a lot of reverence there, were you?” She kept her voice low, even though she doubted her words would be carried beyond his ears, since everyone’s mouths—if they weren’t already occupied with eating—were running a mile a minute. She couldn’t even begin to unravel the half-dozen conversations that seemed to be running concurrently.

“Neither were you,” he countered. A few lines radiated from the corners of the green eyes that he’d clearly inherited from his mother. “Or you wouldn’t have noticed what I was doing.”

The fact that he was right didn’t comfort her any. She managed not to snatch the pizza box he was holding aloft for her as she passed it smoothly to Maggie on her other side.

“Pizza too common-folk for you?” He jerked his chin at her empty plate.

“Not at all,” she returned truthfully. She loved the stuff. But the smell of the pepperoni was luring the threatening tide inside her as surely as the moon lured the ocean. Instead, she reached for the enormous salad bowl that was sitting almost directly in front of her, and put some on her plate.

Even that, though, wasn’t exactly nirvana for her senses, because there was a plentiful amount of chopped black olives among the lettuce and tomatoes.

She’d always liked black olives.

But right now, they looked as appetizing as an infestation of little black bugs.

Her fork dropped on the plate with a clatter as she hurriedly grabbed her filled water glass and, with an appalling lack of dignity, chugged half of its contents before she set it down.

Derek was watching her, the corners of his lips turned down. “What do you do? Maintain a rabbit’s diet just so you can fit into look-at-me dresses like that?” His gaze dropped from her face to the dress in question and she was certain it was only irritation that made her skin beneath the garment feel hot.

“Stop teasing,” Jaimie said from down the table. She was pinching off pieces of her pizza crust and setting them in front of the fat-cheeked baby occupying a high chair next to her. “As I was starting to say before, Sydney’s hardly seen a fraction of the Double-C. Derek, you ought to show her around after dinner.”

“Tramping through snow and cow piles with those boots of hers?” Derek shook his head as he reached out a long arm and grabbed a slice of plain cheese pizza from another box. “Probably not a good idea.” He plopped the slice on Sydney’s plate and pointedly moved the box as if he feared she’d be rude enough to put the slice back.

“Don’t be silly.” Jaimie’s face was wreathed in a smile. If she recognized her son’s obvious reluctance, she was ignoring it. “You can borrow something more suitable,” she told Sydney. “It’s worth the trouble,” she promised. “Even covered in snow, the Double-C is impressive.”

Sydney knew that Jake had been impressed, which was no mean feat. “I’m sure it is,” she said. “But I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“Face it, Mom,” Derek said with just enough dry humor not to sound as odious as Sydney knew he really was. “She was raised at Forrest’s Crossing. She might not be that interested in our little cow operation here considering she grew up around prize-winning Thoroughbreds.”

Her jaw was tightening again. She was well aware that there was nothing “little” about the Double-C. It was the largest cattle operation in the state. She also could feel the look that Matthew was sending their way and knew, without question, that he at least was picking up on something between them.

Jake would never forgive her if she managed to alienate a single one of his beloved J.D.’s family.

She forced a smile toward Derek. “But I am interested,” she assured him brightly. “I just don’t want to be an imposition.”

She hoped to heaven she was the only one who heard the faint snort he gave.

“Don’t be silly,” Jaimie said again. “You’re family now, darling. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Cousins, remember?” Derek was smiling, too, though it looked a little thin around the edges as far as Sydney could tell.

“Right.” She didn’t even realize she’d picked up the slice of pizza until it was in her fingers and the aroma—thankfully tantalizing this time—reached her. She bit off the narrow point of the slice and nearly closed her eyes with glee as the chewy, cheesy mess practically melted on her tongue.

She heard Derek make a strangled sound and looked his way. “Are you all right?”

“Peachy.” He dumped a load of salad on his own plate, jabbed his fork viciously into a tomato slice and shoved it into his mouth.

She glanced down the table toward Tabby. The girl was laughing and looking particularly animated as she talked with the good-looking young guy sitting next to her. “You have competition,” she murmured to Derek. “Is that what’s making you crankier than usual?”

He gave her a strange look. “What the hell are you going on about?”

She nodded toward Tabby. “Not that it’s any business of mine, but he seems more suited to her. Age-wise, that is.”

“You think Tabby and I are—”

“Aren’t you?”

The corner of his lips jerked a little, then settled into a curl. “I’ve known her since she was in diapers.”

Sydney gave him a derisive look. “Is that supposed to excuse robbing the cradle?”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Tab is Evan’s little sister. Evan’s married to my cousin, Leandra. They’re not here today.” He jabbed his fork in the direction of his mother and the high chair–corralled baby beside her. “But that’s their youngest kid, Katie. And Justin—” his fork air-jabbed the young man next to Tabby “—and Tabby have been friends since their sandbox days.”

Then he lowered his fork and ran his gaze over her in a way that had her nerve endings heating up all over again. “Trust me, cupcake.” His voice dropped a notch. “I like my women all grown-up.”

The pizza she’d swallowed seemed suddenly stuck like a lump in her throat. It took every inch of effort she possessed to smile casually. “I guess I misunderstood.”

His eyebrow peaked, making him look devilish. “You think?”

She grabbed her water glass and downed the remainder of its contents. “I’m not going to apologize again,” she said under her breath. “You deliberately misled me yesterday. And you’ve been needling me since.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re carrying around a pincushion of needles of your own, though God knows where you have the room in that dress you’re wearing.” He looked over at his mother when she called his name and asked him to bring in the rest of the pizza.

Startled, Sydney looked over the long tabletop. “There’s more?”

Maggie laughed outright. “There’s always more, Sydney. One thing this family has learned how to do right together is eat.” Then she asked, “Tara, do you still need me to help out at the shop tomorrow?”

Sydney tried not to pay too much notice as Derek left the table, but it was hard considering his arm brushed against hers as he did so. She was positive he’d done it deliberately.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Tara was saying. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to hire more help whether I want to or not.”

“You have that much business?” The second the question left her lips, Sydney realized how it might sound.

But Tara was just smiling ruefully. “Surprising, I know. But Weaver draws more people than you would think just from driving down our little old Main Street. I’m open seven days a week now, and—”

“And it’s too damn many hours,” her husband, Axel, said flatly. He was holding a squirming little boy who was clearly anxious to get down from his daddy’s lap.

“So speaks the King.” Tara held out her hands. “Give me Aidan.” Her husband immediately handed over the tot.

“Well, darling,” Jaimie inserted, “you are pregnant again. And getting more so by the day.”

Derek had returned and dumped three more enormous pizza boxes on top of the empties. Sydney watched with some amazement as eager hands reached out and threw them open, passing the food all over again.

“Thought you already ran an advertisement for some help,” Jaimie said.

Tara shrugged. “I did a few months ago. No takers, though.”

“Hire Sydney,” Derek said, sitting down once more beside her. “She was just telling Mom she needed something to fill her time.”

Sydney’s jaw loosened a little.

He gave a little frown that she didn’t buy for a second. “But then working in a local shop might be too tame for you, with your love of racehorses and ahhht.”

Chapter Three

He was watching her with those goading, green eyes.

“Not at all. I’d love to help.” The words came out of Sydney’s mouth before she could even form the thoughts.

She loved the surprised look on his face.

But when she looked beyond him, she could also see the shocked looks on the faces around her.

She had to admit that her encounter with Derek might have given him some reason to think she was a snob, but she didn’t think she’d given anyone else reason to think it. And if they weren’t thinking she was a snob, then they were thinking she was incapable.

She didn’t think she was a snob. She knew she’d been afforded luxuries and opportunities that many weren’t. She couldn’t change the wealthy parents she’d been born to, no matter how many times she’d wished otherwise.

But incapable?

That was a thornier issue altogether.

She focused on Tara, who was watching her with a puzzled expression. “I do have oodles of time on my hands.” For now, anyway. “And though I’m sure I’m not the most qualified—” she ignored Derek’s sudden cough beside her “—I’m willing to help out until you can find a person you’d prefer more.”

“Prefer!” Tara nearly sputtered the word. “Are you kidding me? You would be perfect!”

Now it was time for Sydney to return the shocked stare.

“J.D. has told me dozens of times how impeccable your style is,” Tara was going on. “I can’t wait to pick your brain.”

Sydney wasn’t sure what was more bemusing: J.D. thinking her style was impeccable, or that Tara was actually enthusiastic about having Sydney’s help. Feeling woefully self-conscious, she laughed a little. “I’m not sure what you’ll find, but you’re welcome to pick away. You could do that even without me volunteering to help at the shop.”

Tara waved her hand. “No volunteering. I’ll hire you if you want the job. Four days a week, to start, and the money’ll—”

Sydney absolutely didn’t want to talk money in front of all these people. Derek, most of all. “We can work that out later,” she said hurriedly.

“Great. Can you start tomorrow?”

Tara’s enthusiasm was hard to resist. “Sure.” Then Sydney quickly looked toward Maggie. “Unless I’m stepping on your toes.”

“Good grief, no,” Maggie assured her. “I’ll be able to drive down and see Early and Sofia for a few hours after all. My grandchildren,” she added. “Our other daughter, Angeline, and her husband, Brody, live in Sheridan.”

“And so does Maggie half the time,” Daniel drawled beside her.

She gave him a light swat. “I don’t hear you complaining about it,” she returned, laughing. “You’re worse than I am when it comes to spending time with the grandchildren. I figured getting down there a few times a month was doing good, but you want to go at least once a week.”

“All of Squire’s sons take after him,” Jaimie told Sydney. “But I think he’s still the worst when it comes to spoiling his great-grandchildren.”

“And meddling in the rest of our lives,” Matthew added, looking wry. “Damned old coot.”

Just listening to them made Sydney feel a little breathless. It was so plain how easily they spread their affection among each other.

There’d been family dinners among the Forrests.

But never one like this.

Her gaze ran over the jumble of informal pizza boxes and paper napkins accompanied by fine china and Waterford glassware. But it wasn’t even that eclectic mix of formal and incredibly informal that was so appealing to her. It was the easy acceptance of everyone who sat around that table. From squirming toddlers to squabbling teenagers to parents and grandparents. Everyone seemed to have a say and nobody was disregarded.

“Something wrong?” Derek was holding his longneck, his thumb picking at the label. “You’ve got a strange look on your face.”

She sat up a little straighter in her chair and folded her napkin over her empty plate. Funny. She didn’t even remember eating her salad. “I can’t imagine why. I was just thinking I’d never enjoyed a meal more.”

His thick lashes narrowed around those brilliant eyes as he studied her. If he was looking for some hidden meaning in her words, he wasn’t going to find them. “Tara’s going to be counting on you now.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Your point being?”

“She doesn’t deserve to be let down.”

Even though she’d expected them, his words still disappointed her. And she honestly couldn’t figure out why they should. Aside from his family connection to her brother, what Derek Clay thought about her or didn’t think about her shouldn’t matter one iota.

After all, she couldn’t be a bigger disappointment to anyone than she already was to herself. But she was determined to change that; moving to Weaver had been the first step.

“You’re the one who brought up the idea,” she reminded him.

His lips thinned. “Believe me, cupcake. I’m well aware of my own mistakes.”

She had to wait out the unwanted sting of that. And it didn’t matter what his responsibility in the situation was. She’d been the one to offer her assistance to Tara and she planned to honor her words. “I don’t intend to let her down.”

He leaned a few inches closer. “You heard her. She needs permanent help. Not just someone who’ll play at it for a week or two before getting bored.”

She didn’t back away. “I don’t suppose it even occurs to you that I might need this, too?”

“Need?” His lips twisted. “What could working in a small-town shop get you that you couldn’t buy a hundred times over?”

Her throat tightened and she wished that she’d just let his underwhelming opinion of her pass. “Obviously nothing that you’d ever understand.” To him, she was just a useless “cupcake.”

His eyes narrowed even more, but fortunately he was given no opportunity to respond since his mother announced that they’d all adjourn to the family room while the kids cleared the table. The kids in question, Eli and his sister, Megan, groaned about the task, but as Sydney left the table and was joined by Tara—who tucked her arm through hers as if they were lifelong friends—she noticed that their grumbling didn’t keep them from their assignment.

“So,” Tara was saying, “do you have any kind of retail experience?”

Sydney was glad that Derek had been waylaid by his father in the dining room and wasn’t close enough to hear. “Afraid not. If you want to change your mind, I certainly won’t blame you.”

Tara squeezed her arm. “Please. I didn’t have any retail experience when I started out.” She laughed a little. “If I had, I would have known that a shop like Classic Charms would have an abysmal chance of succeeding in Weaver. Sometimes blissful ignorance is a blessing. What I didn’t know didn’t hurt me.” She looked up at Sydney. “You know, J.D. never mentioned how much you look like Jake. The resemblance is really quite remarkable.”

Even from the emptied dining room, Derek could hear Sydney’s sudden laughter.

The sound of it seemed to slide down his spine, making heat collect at the base.

“What’s going on between you and Jake’s little sister?”

“I’m thirty-two, Dad.” Derek gave his father a mild look. “Wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

“I’ll worry when she’s a guest in our home,” Matthew returned just as mildly.

Thirty-two or not, Derek was still Matthew’s son; it was clear from his father’s tone that he meant business. “We might have gotten off to the wrong start,” he reluctantly allowed. “But we got it straight.”

His father lifted a disbelieving brow. “Did you, now.”

Derek grimaced. “Okay. So we’re working on getting it straight.”

Matthew just continued looking at him.

Derek exhaled, irritated. Megan and Eli were carrying the last of the dishes out to the kitchen. “She gets under my skin,” he muttered.

“Is that so?”

Derek didn’t like the sudden glint of amusement in his father’s eyes. “She doesn’t belong here in Weaver.”

“Better be careful, son,” he warned. “I once thought that about your mother.”

Derek snorted. “There’s a big difference between Mom and Sydney.”

“Well,” Matthew considered, “your mother is a beautiful redhead. Still. And Sydney is a beautiful brunette.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“You don’t think Sydney’s beautiful? Had your eyes tested lately?”

“Hell.” Derek tossed his hands up. “Of course she’s beautiful.” She was a gut-wrenching sexy version of grown-up Snow White from the blue-black hair that hugged her ivory face to that leather number that hugged her long-legged, deadly curves. “I know Jake wants his sister to stay in Weaver. But she’s not going to.”

“She tell you that herself?”

“She doesn’t have to. Look at her.”

Matthew smiled outright. “I did, but your mom noticed and then I had the pleasure of her kicking me under the table.”

Derek groaned. “Jesus, Dad.”

“I’m married, not blind.” He closed his hand over Derek’s shoulder and his smile died. “She’s Jake’s sister and that makes her family by extension. Blaming her for getting under your skin is about as useful as blaming a compass for pointing north. And blaming her for something she hasn’t done—and might never do—just because that’s what Renée did, is just as pointless.”

Derek’s shoulders stiffened. “This isn’t about Renée.” He hadn’t mentioned his ex-fiancée’s name in a long while, and didn’t want to now, either.

He still couldn’t think about her and what she’d done without wanting to break something.

His father just looked at him. “Isn’t it?”

“Come on, Sydney! You can do it!”

Sydney stared at the snowbank in front of her.

After dessert, it had been young Megan and Eli who’d volunteered to show her around the Double-C. Sydney had been so relieved that it wasn’t going to be Derek who’d be saddled with the chore, that she’d happily agreed to exchange her boots and dress for some borrowed clothes and snow boots. It was only after she’d done so that she’d realized that Derek was still coming along.

By then, it was too late to back out. Particularly when she suspected that’s exactly what he wanted her to do.

Despite her misgivings, though, Derek had fallen easily enough into the role of tour guide as they’d tromped around. He’d even refrained from any remotely personal comments, sticking to the topic of the cattle ranch that had been in his family for generations.

As for Sydney, she had little breath left over for comments of her own. Not when they were busy keeping up with the boundless energy Derek’s niece and nephew possessed. By the time they’d walked through all of the outbuildings and then all the way out to the nearly frozen swimming hole that had to have been a couple miles away, her chest hurt and the muscles in her thighs were stinging. Despite the hours she spent with her personal trainer, trudging through a few feet of snow for a few hours was a heck of a lot worse than anything that Janine had ever put her through.

But now, if she could ascend the solid-looking snowbank that rose twice as high as her head, it would cut at least a half mile from their trek back.

“You’ll never know if you can make it unless you try. But if you’re afraid, I’ll go back and bring a truck,” Derek said beside her.

She gave him a thin glare. He was the other reason she felt determined to get up that snowbank. “And here I thought you were going to manage not to say something insulting. I am not afraid.”

He lifted his hands innocently, but the devilish curl on his lips was anything but. “It was just an offer.”

“An offer implying I can’t climb up that snowbank,” she muttered.

“You want me to come down and give you a push from behind?” Eli seemed enthusiastic about the prospect as he looked down at her. He and Megan were already standing at the top.

Megan snorted. “I ought to give you a push,” she warned.

Sydney managed not to laugh. Over the past few hours, it had become increasingly obvious to her that Eli found her attractive.

“I think I can manage,” she told him. Derek’s muffled laugh beside her wasn’t so easy to ignore. “You’re not giving me a push, either,” she told him under her breath.

“Didn’t offer, cupcake. But if you want my hands on your butt, say the word. We don’t have to like each other to want each other.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped, but had to stare hard at the sloping snowbank to battle her own imagination. Contemplating the mountain of white was much more comfortable than entertaining any sort of notion involving Derek’s hands.

She pulled in another deep breath, then planted the toe of one borrowed boot into the steep bank. Once she got started, the task was less daunting than she’d feared, but she still had snow clinging to her legs and coat by the time she managed to scramble to the top. Eli and Megan lent their aid, grabbing her beneath the arms to help her up the last foot. Even then, Derek still managed to get to the top before she did.

But her annoyance over that fell away when she straightened and dusted off the sticking snow. She couldn’t help but catch her breath all over again at the postcard-perfect sight.

Megan clearly understood. “It’s pretty, huh?”

“Yes.” White-capped mountains loomed in the distance. Spiky winter-bare trees lined a narrow creek bravely winding free of the pristine snow that glistened like diamonds in the dwindling light. In the distance, she could see downward to the back side of the big house where smoke curled from one of the chimneys and golden light spilled from the windows.

She’d traveled the world but had always thought that Forrest’s Crossing—despite her love-hate relationship with the place—was one of the most beautiful spots on earth.

But this was just as beautiful in an entirely different way.

Forrest’s Crossing was all genteel, Southern charm from its steepled horse barns and white-fenced paddocks to its perfectly manicured grounds.

This looked like nothing but nearly untouched nature.

Nearly, because there were several tall very modern-looking windmills on the crest of the sharp hill where they stood. They weren’t the only modern touch she’d noticed around the ranch, either. Several of the barns and outbuildings they’d toured had obviously been outfitted with solar panels.

“Not exactly the Swiss Alps or wherever you like to while away your winters.”

Sydney eyed Derek. He was standing several yards away, but she’d heard him easily, as if even sound traveled more quickly in this pristine land. “No, it isn’t. But if you can’t see the beauty around you right here, then I feel sorry for you.”

His frown was quick and surprised, but fortunately, whatever he would have said went unspoken when Eli piped up. “It’s nothin’ like where I came from in California, that’s for sure,” the boy said. Instead of standing there to admire the view, though, he started off in the direction of the house.