Currant Creek Valley

“A walk could be...interesting.”

“Great. Let’s go.” She ignored the flurry of nerves in her stomach as they hung up the cues and settled their tab with Pat at the bar.

He helped her into her jacket and then pulled on his own—a soft, thin leather jacket that made her think of motorcycles and bad boys—and then they walked out into the sweetly scented spring night.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NIGHT WAS RELATIVELY WARM for mid-April with a southerly breeze that smelled moist and earthy. She wouldn’t be surprised if Hope’s Crossing saw rain before daybreak, the kind of sweet and cleansing storm that blew through quickly and left everything fresh and clean, saturated with color.

She loved walking on these kinds of nights, when the rest of the world seemed huddled in for the dark hours but she was alone with the rustling music of the breeze in new leaves.

Except this time she wasn’t alone. She was accompanied by a big, tough-looking man who had secrets she hadn’t begun to guess.

“Let’s walk up to the fire station and I’ll give you the high points of Main Street along the way.”

“You’re the tour guide.” He flashed a lopsided smile, looking sexy and almost rakish, and she had to remind her hormones to settle down.

She adopted a deliberately casual tone, her best officious voice. Maybe if the restaurant thing didn’t work out, she could get a job at the tourist welcome center. “You probably already know this but Hope’s Crossing was once a wild and woolly mining town, with more brothels and saloons than houses.”

“I’d heard that, yes. Tell me this. Don’t you think it’s odd that even with that sort of start, the town was still named a sweet, flowery name like Hope’s Crossing instead of, oh, I don’t know. Something like Hell’s Armpit.”

She laughed. “While both names are equally appealing, of course, I’m guessing Hope’s Crossing might be a bit more of a tourist draw than anything with the word armpit in it. But what do I know?”

His smile gleamed in the night and she fought down another shiver of awareness.

“My friend Claire is a lot better at recounting history, but from what I understand, the miners originally called the town Silver Strike after the first mine to produce anything worthwhile up in the canyon. One of the mine owners, Silas Van Duran, happened to fall in love with the only schoolteacher in town, a woman named Hope Goodwin. When it came time to officially name the town, he insisted on Hope’s Crossing. Since he had the money, I guess, he also had the power to push through what he wanted.”

“A little on the cheesy side, don’t you think? Most women I know would prefer a share in the silver mine instead of the rather dubious privilege of having a town named for them.”

“Aren’t you cynical? You’re not a romantic, then. Good to know.”

“Hey, I can be romantic when the mood strikes.”

“You do know there’s a difference between romantic and horny, right?”

He laughed and warmth sizzled through her. He had a really sexy laugh, low and full-throated, with just a hint of surprise to it, as if he didn’t do it that often. She wanted him to do it again.

“I’ve heard that, yes,” he said. “Thanks for the reminder. Though in my experience, they’re not mutually exclusive emotions.”

She was really going to have to settle down here. She drew in a breath and forced herself to return to tour-guide mood as they walked past her favorite boutique.

When they passed String Fever, she paused in front of the lighted display, a combination of ready-made items and a brilliant scatter of loose beads.

“Ooh, looks like Claire is carrying a new line of hand-painted beads. She didn’t tell me. The woman is evil. I spend half my paycheck inside String Fever.”

He gazed at the necklace that had caught her attention and then back at her. “Somehow I wouldn’t have pegged you for a crafter.”

“Beading is an art form and I’ve got serious skills. I made this.” She pulled out the hammered-silver necklace. He had obviously once been someone’s husband because he was smart enough to dutifully admire it.

“Nice.”

“I know,” she said smugly. “And it’s not even my best work. Claire, the owner, has been my BFF since we were in first grade. She’s actually married to my brother now. They’re having a baby in a few months.”

Why was she compelled to add that last part? She wasn’t quite sure. Her own emotions about Riley and Claire combining DNA to bring a new life into the world were as tangled as her jewelry drawer.

She had mostly come to terms with the fact that her best friend and the person she still considered her pesky little brother were head-over-heels crazy about each other. She would never tell either of them this, but she even thought it was kind of sweet the way they couldn’t seem to keep their gazes off each other in a crowd, the way they touched whenever they were close, the happiness that just seemed to surround the two of them like a big, puffy cloud.

Even so, it still sometimes freaked her out.

Then there was the issue of the upcoming birth, something that left her both thrilled for them and aching for...something.

Throw in her mother’s relationship with Harry Lange and she was probably due for some serious therapy anytime now.

She didn’t want to talk about any of it. What she really wanted to do was kiss this big, sexy construction foreman. Too bad things were so complicated.

“This is the Center of Hope Café, a fabulous place for breakfast and lunch. Basically anything on the menu is good. You can’t go wrong. I don’t know what magic Dermot Caine possesses but he also makes these turkey wraps that always hit the spot.”

“Seems like a bad policy, to endorse the competition.”

She sniffed. “We’re not in competition. Apples to oranges. You want gourmet cuisine, come to my restaurant. You want good, honest comfort food, Dermot’s your man.”

“Is that right?”

“The French toast alone will make you weep tears of gratitude.”

He laughed, assuming she was speaking in hyperbole. Foolish man. After he tried it, he would know she spoke only truth.

“Around the corner there is Dermot’s daughter Charlotte’s candy store. Sugar Rush. Best place in town for flavored fudge. Blackberry, almond, cashew. She does it all. And she’s one of my good friends, too.”

“Is everyone in town your friend?”

She shrugged. “Basically. What can I say? It’s a friendly town. Why don’t we cross the street here?”

He eyed the crosswalk, thirty feet farther up the street. “A rule breaker. I like that in a woman.”

“It’s nearly midnight,” she pointed out. “The streets are pretty deserted right now. I think we’ll be safe unless we get rogue moose coming through town. Hope’s Crossing doesn’t have much of a nightlife this time of year, I’m afraid.”

“Not a problem for me. I’m not coming to town to party.”

Despite the dearth of traffic, he grabbed her elbow when they crossed the street. She found it incredibly sweet and wanted to lean into the strength of his firm hand touching her, even through the layers of her coat and shirt.

They were only taking fifteen steps across pavement, not fording Currant Creek during runoff, but she still enjoyed that little touch of courtesy.

“This is my sister’s shop,” she said, when they reached the other side. “Dog-Eared Books & Brew is absolutely the best place in town to get good coffee.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

On the other side of the street, she pointed out several of the old buildings in town and the efforts that had been made to keep the town’s historic flavor.

Hope’s Crossing was always so peaceful late at night when most of the residents slept. Instead of going all the way up to the restaurant, the one place in town she knew he had been, she turned them down Glacier Lily Drive, intending to make a loop back to The Speckled Lizard. They had only walked about ten feet when something large and dark came toward them out of the alley behind the fabric store.

Alex jumped and gave a little scream at the same moment, her mind on that moose she had joked about earlier. Moose scared her to death ever since just about being charged by one when she had caught it unawares while out mountain biking one day a few years ago.

She felt extremely foolish when she realized the menacing shape was only an off-leash dog who had apparently wandered away from home.

“Sorry. Sorry. That startled me.”

He didn’t laugh, which was more than most men she knew would have done.

“It startled me, too. We former Army Rangers try to be a little more manly and do our girly screaming on the inside.”

“We should probably find where he belongs. Come here, boy.”

In the small circle of light from the reproduction streetlamp, the dog looked to be a chocolate Lab. He had a frayed collar but no tags. “Oh, dear. Where did you come from?”

The dog licked her, tongue lolling and tail wagging. He smelled like wet dog, sharply pungent.

“I’m not exactly a dog expert but he looks like a purebred,” Sam said.

She had to agree. He had very elegant lines and beautiful hazel eyes that glowed in his dark face in the starlight. “I can’t imagine he’s a stray, even though that collar looks pretty mangy.”

“How do you expect to find his home tonight?”

“Good question, especially without tags. I’m trying to think if I know anybody with a chocolate Lab. Nobody comes to mind. He doesn’t look familiar.”

“You can’t know every dog in town.”

“Not every dog, no,” she admitted. “But I’m sure I would remember a good-looking guy like this one.”

The dog licked at her hand again and she rubbed his ears. She loved dogs. Claire and Riley’s morosely adorable basset hound, Chester, was one of her favorite creatures on earth. If her life weren’t so chaotic, she would definitely have one of her own.

“Any suggestions?” Sam asked. “Is there an animal shelter in town where we can take him for now?”

“There is, but they’re usually pretty packed.”

She considered her options and came up with only one viable possibility. “Looks like I’m going to have company for the night.”

“You’re really going to take him home with you? What if he’s rabid?”

“He’s not. Look at how sweet he is. I can’t just leave him to run wild on the streets. He could be hit by a car or even attacked by a mountain lion. I can call the shelter in the morning and see if they’ve had any missing pooch reports that match his description.”

“What if they haven’t?”

“I’m pretty connected,” she said modestly. “I can get the word out through the police department and even put a few posters up at the bookstore and Claire’s place. The owner will probably hear through the grapevine that I found a chocolate Lab. I should only have him for a day or two. It will be fun to have company, won’t it, bud?”

The dog woofed at her and licked her hand a third time, almost as if he understood.

“Take off your belt,” she ordered.

Sam angled a sidelong look at her. “I do believe that’s the first time I’ve been propositioned on a public sidewalk.”

She snorted. “That you’ve heard out loud, anyway. I’m sure plenty of women have wanted to proposition you, public sidewalk or not. Seriously, I need a leash and I’m not wearing a belt. I need yours. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back.”

He shook his head. “This is the most interesting evening I’ve had in a very long time.”

“Don’t get out much, then, do you?”

She tried not to ogle as he unfastened his belt and slipped it out of the loops. As he handed it over, his finger brushed hers with a shock of warmth against the chilling night temperature. With one hand, she pulled the belt through the dog’s collar and drew the end through the metal loop.

“There. Now I just need to hope it doesn’t slip through my fingers, but you’re not going anywhere, are you, bud?”

The dog wagged his tail, his haunches firmly planted on the sidewalk.

“Clever.” Sam looked amused.

“I can be. Your pants aren’t going to fall down now, are they?”

“I believe I can manage to avoid that horrifying eventuality for the few minutes it will take me to walk you to your car.”

Oh, she liked Sam. It was really a cruel twist of fate that the planets were so far out of alignment for them.

They walked through the quiet streets of town in a companionable silence, broken only by the dog’s snuffling as he investigated each crack in the sidewalk, the spring flowers blooming in baskets outside the storefronts, each streetlamp, signpost and fire hydrant.

“What’s your name? Hmm?”

The dog gave her a goofy grin in response.

“I think I’ll just call you Dude for tonight.”

“Oh, please,” Sam protested. “Leave the poor guy a little dignity.”

“Okay, okay.”

She considered ideas as they crossed the street again and headed back to The Speckled Lizard. The perfect name came to her when they were almost to the bar. “I’ve got it. I think I’ll call him Leo. He’s exactly the color of my favorite Leonidas Belgian chocolates.”

“Sure. That was going to be my choice, too.”

She couldn’t see Sam roll his eyes in the dark but his dry tone conveyed the same sentiment.

She laughed and squeezed his arm. What a wonderful night. Walking the quiet streets of Hope’s Crossing on a lovely April evening that smelled like spring with a gorgeous man at her side—and now a very adorable dog. What woman wouldn’t have this little bird of happiness fluttering through her?

Soon enough, though, they reached her little SUV and she opened the back door.

“Come on, Leo. Let’s get you inside.”

The dog didn’t hesitate, just jumped right into the backseat as if they had been practicing this routine for years. Her seats were probably going to stink for weeks. First order of business for Leo was a bath, even though it was nearly midnight. Both of them would sleep better for it.

She reached inside and pulled the belt end through the buckle and handed it back to Sam. “Thanks for loaning your belt. And for the evening. I had a really great time.”

She had said those words often on dates but had never meant them as much as she did in that moment.

“I did, too.” His voice held a slight note of surprise, as if he hadn’t been expecting to enjoy himself. “I would like to do it again. Soon.”

Okay, here was the awkward part of the evening. She couldn’t encourage him, not with all the complications, but she liked him far too much to turn him down flat. “Sure,” she finally said. “I’m pretty busy right now, between preparing for the new restaurant and wrapping things up at my current job, but sure. It was fun.”

“You’re an intriguing woman, Alexandra McKnight. I don’t meet very many of those.”

She tried to come up with something flippant in response, but before she could make her brain work, he stepped forward, leaned down and kissed her.

It started as just a brush of his mouth against hers, a simple “thanks for a fun night” sort of kiss. She should have let it stand there but he smelled so delicious, like sunshine and warm male, and he kissed with just the right amount of pressure, not too soft, not too hard, and she hadn’t been kissed in forever.

She moved her mouth slightly under his, just a taste, and was vaguely aware of her hands moving to his hard, slim waist. He made a sound low in his throat that seemed to shiver down her nerve endings, one hand tangled in her hair, the other resting on the small of her back, and deepened the kiss.

One minute the kiss was sweet and easy, almost innocent, the next was heat and fire and the hard churn of her heartbeat.

He could build things, he was kind to stray dogs and he was a fantastic kisser, too. Um. Yes. She wanted to grab hold of those big, gorgeous shoulders, shove him into her car and take him home with her....

Something cold pressed against her back—the metal side of her car, she realized, vaguely aware that he had her caged in by all those muscles against her SUV and was kissing her as if his next mission depended on it.

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath and felt as if she’d just leaped off the highest point of the mountain and was soaring, soaring out into space.

Reality intruded in the form of a stray dog, who poked his head out the driver’s side door where they stood, with a curious sniff. At the feel of that nose nudging at her, Alex realized she was wrapped around a man she had only met a few hours ago while heat coursed through her like the propane torch she used to caramelize sugar for crème brȗlée.

“Wow. Okay. Um. Wow.” She drew in a ragged breath and then another one. So much for casual, flirty fun. She couldn’t remember ever igniting so instantaneously, not even back with...

Out of habit, she jerked her mind away from even thinking about the past, from that long-ago girl she had been who had given her heart so freely and so foolishly.

“Yeah. Wow. Funny, that’s just what I was thinking.”

She leaned a hip against the door of her SUV, fighting the urge to step back into his arms and stand here kissing him for a few more hours.

Hadn’t she spent all evening reminding herself of all the reasons why she couldn’t afford this complication with him, no matter how tempting?

She was apparently a weak-willed woman.

“I should go. It’s late and I probably need to get Leo settled in for the night.”

“And I’ve got to be at the work site bright and early in the morning. You never did give me a direct answer. When do you think we can do this again?”

How about now? And then five minutes from now? And then ten minutes after that?

“I didn’t, did I?”

Despising herself for the cowardice, she gave him a quick smile and slid into the driver’s seat of her vehicle then quickly closed the door. Before he could protest or she could do something completely stupid like make another date with him, she yanked the gear shift into Drive and took off, leaving him standing on the sidewalk, looking just as dazed as she felt.

* * *

WITH DESIRE STILL PULSING through him, Sam watched her drive off in a sporty little SUV that probably came in handy during the cold high-mountain winters.

He hadn’t intended anything more than a fast, polite kiss but then she had moved her mouth against his and heat had rushed in on a relentless tide, blasting away any chance he had of hanging on to his sanity or control.

Alexandra McKnight, with her blond curls and those incredible green eyes and that smart, delectable mouth, was a dangerous woman. He couldn’t remember when he had smiled so much in an evening or known this effervescent sense of anticipation and sheer fun.

He shook his head. This was not why he had come to Hope’s Crossing. A relationship was the last thing on his mind as he considered uprooting his son and setting up shop in a new town, away from his entire support system.

The timing couldn’t be worse. He had more than enough on his plate right now, trying to build a new life here.

The two of them stirred up enough sparks to burn down the whole town. Chemistry wasn’t everything, he reminded himself. The trouble was, he genuinely liked her, too. She was funny but not at the expense of other people. She had to be a kind, compassionate woman to pick up a stray dog and take him home with her.

With a sigh, he headed for his pickup truck. He had to tread carefully here. She was obviously well-known in town. The short tour she had taken him on had illustrated clearly that every store in town had some link to her. Sisters, best friends, neighbors. Everyone here was interconnected.

If he started something with the very appealing Alexandra McKnight and it went south, he had a strong suspicion he would automatically be blamed, by default. He was an outsider and in small towns like Hope’s Crossing, people tended to be quick to circle the wagons around one of their own.

He wanted to build a life here, to start a business. How could he hope to do that if he managed to piss off half the town before he even had a chance to settle in?

He would be smarter to take things slow, he decided. Back off, use his head. He would focus on keeping Alexandra happy with the work he did for her and avoid any more intimate evenings that reminded him just how very long he had been alone.

CHAPTER FIVE

“YOU CAN COME with me, but only if you behave,” Alex said sternly to Leo early the next afternoon.

The dog gave her what looked uncannily like a grin and planted his haunches by the front door, waiting for her to hook up the extra leash she kept around the house for the times she doggie-sat Chester.

She clipped it on him then juggled the leash while she picked up a heavy cooler and headed out.

“I mean it,” she went on as she carried the cooler down the steps of her garage to the open hatch of her SUV. “Caroline loves her flowers. It breaks her heart right in half that she can’t tend them as she likes anymore. I won’t have you digging up any of her few perennials she has left, understood?”

The dog gave one well-mannered bark, smart as a whip, and she smiled. He was good company, this unexpected guest. He had been docile and easygoing when she had bathed him the night before and hadn’t even soaked her much.

Last night, he had politely eaten Chester’s leftover dog food and then had trotted out in the yard for his business before coming back and waiting with surprising patience by the door to be let back inside.

She had settled him for the night on some old blankets in a corner of her laundry room and he hadn’t made a sound all night long, until she had checked on him after she awoke. She could only wish all her houseguests were so trouble free.

Leo settled in the backseat of her SUV and lolled his tongue, overcome with joy when she rolled the window down.

As they pulled away from her house, she could see it in the rear windshield, the hewn logs gleaming in the afternoon sun. With two gables and a wide front porch that looked out on the mountains, the house looked warm and lovely, though she still tended to see all the work she needed to do.

After years of neglect, first as a vacation house with mostly absentee owners and then in foreclosure when the owners had walked away from the mortgage, the house was a work in progress. The window boxes in the upper window and along the porch railing that ran the length of the house were still empty and the garden was a wild tangle.

She was working on it slowly, determined that by summer’s end, the house and yard would glow once more.

The house was a labor of love, just like the restaurant. She loved this place, had since she was a girl. She could remember riding her bike on this road to visit a friend who grew up on the next development over.

All the houses in this area were lovely, mostly log, stone and cedar that had been constructed to meld with the mountain setting and separated from each other by tall stands of pine, fir and aspen.

She had always loved the serenity she found here as she passed fields of wildflowers and that musically rippling creek bordered by wild red- and black-currant bushes that had given the neighborhood its name. This specific little cottage, though, had always called to her.

Maybe it was the decorative shutters or the scrollwork gingerbread trim on the gables that always made the house seem charmed to her, like something out of a fairy tale.

She remembered telling Claire from the time they were young that someday she would live here. Of course, back then she had dreamed of a husband and a house full of children, just like the big family she had known growing up.

Funny how a person’s life journey could sometimes meander off in completely unexpected directions. Here she was, without the husband and without the passel of kids, but in the house she had wanted forever.

The dog in the backseat barked as she pulled away from the house and now she glanced in the rearview mirror at him.