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 His North Star

A White Pines Sweet Romance

 His North Star

A White Pines Sweet Romance

Amanda P. Jones

Pine Lake Publishing, LLC

Amanda P. Jones

Pine Lake Publishing, LLC

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by Pine Lake Publishing, LLC

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except for the use of brief quotations
in a book review.

Cover design by Danielle Gough

Edited by Megan Clements at Waypoint Authors and Jessica Barber at New Life Editing Solutions. Proofread by Emily White.

www.authoramandapjones.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by Pine Lake Publishing, LLC

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except for the use of brief quotations
in a book review.

Cover design by Danielle Gough

Edited by Megan Clements at Waypoint Authors and Jessica Barber at New Life Editing Solutions. Proofread by Emily White.

www.authoramandapjones.com
 Contents

Dedication

1. CHAPTER 1
2. CHAPTER 2
3. CHAPTER 3
4. CHAPTER 4
5. CHAPTER 5
6. CHAPTER 6
7. CHAPTER 7
8. CHAPTER 8

9. CHAPTER 9
10. CHAPTER 10
11. CHAPTER 11
12. CHAPTER 12
13. CHAPTER 13
14. CHAPTER 14
15. CHAPTER 15
16. CHAPTER 16
17. CHAPTER 17
18. CHAPTER 18

19. CHAPTER 19

20. CHAPTER 20
21. CHAPTER 21

22. CHAPTER 22
23. CHAPTER 23
24. CHAPTER 24
25. CHAPTER 25

26. CHAPTER 26
27. CHAPTER 27
28. CHAPTER 28
29. CHAPTER 29
30. CHAPTER 30
31. EPILOGUE
. Chapter
Also By
Acknowledgments

About The Author

18. CHAPTER 18

19. CHAPTER 19

20. CHAPTER 20
21. CHAPTER 21

22. CHAPTER 22
23. CHAPTER 23
24. CHAPTER 24
25. CHAPTER 25

26. CHAPTER 26
27. CHAPTER 27
28. CHAPTER 28
29. CHAPTER 29
30. CHAPTER 30
31. EPILOGUE
. Chapter
Also By
Acknowledgments

About The Author

 To my best friend, Melissa Hiller
(or Amalissa as our sweet Mom calls you when she mashes our names together).
Thank you for always being there and loving me. I couldn't (and wouldn't want to) do life without
you!
 To my best friend, Melissa Hiller
(or Amalissa as our sweet Mom calls you when she mashes our names together).
Thank you for always being there and loving me. I couldn't (and wouldn't want to) do life without
you!
 CHAPTER 1

The pads of my fingers ached, my skin rubbed raw from ripping my wedding invitations to shreds
over the past hour. I absently pulled another piece of cardstock from the box, tearing it in half, again
and again, until it became a bunch of jagged pieces like my heart.
Mom offered to dispose of the 175 announcements for me, but why should they get a simple toss
into the dumpster when I couldn’t do the same for my feelings?
My only solace came from the darkness that embraced me. The stars lent me their peace as I ripped
another chunk apart. The wooden boat dock gently swayed as the lazy waves of Whitefish Lake rolled
ashore, rocking me in its own empathetic way. The soft wind blew against my face as it tried to dry
the tears that errantly trickled down my cheeks.
I scraped the bottom of the box, lifting the last paper out. I couldn’t see the photo on the front of the
invitation in the inky blackness, but I didn’t need to. The image had seared itself into my memory.
Those who should have received the announcements would have assumed we were two people madly
in love. The way our smiles stretched wide, our eyes locked onto one another’s, and our arms
wrapped around each other so tight, like we never wanted to let go. The cream dress with little navy
flowers I wore complemented the blue of my ex’s button down.
Too bad it was all a lie.
Blake somehow understood before we said “I do” that I’d never be the brightest star visible. I’m
good at blending into the background, something Blake always tried to change about me.
A muffled chime buzzed against my stomach where my phone rested in my jacket pocket. Only one
person would text so late. I ignored it. I had to be alone to process the feelings regarding my failed
relationship.
My phone rang. I huffed, pulling my cell out. Tyler, listed as T-Rex-Ler in my contacts, shined
across my screen. He wouldn’t stop until I answered. My best friend had many great qualities;
 allowing me to ignore him wasn’t one of them.
I sniffled, then tapped the green button. “You know it’s after ten, right?”
“Really, Maren?” he said sarcastically. “I forgot how to tell time. Thank you so much for helping
me.”
“What do you need?” I asked, letting his remark slide. I laid back, getting comfortable. Talking to
him often lasted several hours. “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
“Where?”
“At the dock.”
He pushed out an incredulous laugh. “Are you looking at the same stars again?”
Normally, I would be out here with my telescope photographing the next nebula I had set my sights
ds
on. Too bad that wasn’t the case this time.
in
“I’m hanging up now,” I warned, pulling the phone away from my ear.
“Wait.” His voice grew louder.
ss
“Yes?”
“I’m at your house. Come up.”
ed
I held back a moan. I really, really didn’t have it in me to be around cheerful Ty. “Why?”
ed
“I brought you something.”
ry
Since when did he bring me things? “Come down to the dock.”
His long stride could easily cover the four and a half-acre stroll across the lawn from my house to
he
the beach.
ry.
“It’s a treat that needs plates and forks,” he said. “So come up to your apartment.”
ly
He was definitely up to something. “Fine.”
ms
I tucked my phone in my pocket, grabbed the box and bag, then stalked toward my one-bedroom
vy
apartment above the bed-and-breakfast’s four-car garage. I made a quick detour to the outside
garbage bin to dispose of my shredded wedding invitations before meeting Ty.
He stood at the top of the outdoor staircase with a bag in one hand and the famous pink bakery box
’m
in the other. He casually leaned against the railing, his long legs taking up most of the landing. His
blond hair shimmered gold under the porch light. He smiled triumphantly as I slowly ascended the
ne
steps.
ed
“Did you bring an entire pie?” I asked.
He grinned. “Yep, and I’m leaving the extras with you.”
ed
“You know I don’t want it.” That would be an automatic five pounds straight to my hips. Before
es;
 Blake, I never cared about maintaining my size, but jean shopping wasn’t my favorite activity
anymore. Not since Blake’s harsh words echoed in my mind every time I stood in front of the mirror.
ngIf Ty left the box, I’d be living in my stretchy yoga pants for days.
He shrugged. “Give it to your family, then.”
to I opened the door and flipped the light switch. After toeing off my shoes, I crossed the small, pale
room to drop my quilt on the back of the cream couch. I turned to him with raised brows. “What’s so
important that you had to come right now? I’m going to bed soon.” More like crying myself to sleep.
“Just come eat.” Ty went to the kitchen and grabbed plates and forks from the cabinets.
Huckleberry pie and vanilla ice cream filled the dish he passed me. I inhaled the buttery crust,
htswhich sent my mouth watering like a bloodhound about to devour a bone.
I swallowed a small bite of sweet, berry goodness. “This is good,” I admitted. And exactly what I
needed after my crappy night. I’d allow myself ten nibbles, then be done.
“I’m glad you’re liking it.”
Once we finished eating, he took an extra-long time to wash the plates. Another indicator he was up
to something. Not that I would stop him. A man doing the dishes, regardless that he was only a friend,
was attractive. Extremely attractive.
I’d learned within the first year of our friendship—which started when he pulled on my pigtails
during first-grade recess—Ty never did anything before he was good and ready. I tried to be patient
towith him, though I didn’t always succeed.
When he finished the dishes, he said, “Come sit on the couch with me.”
“Are you finally going to explain why you’re here? You’re being weird.”
“I wanted to visit.”
m We sat next to one another, my loveseat so small, and Ty so big, our arms and legs touched.
de I wrapped my arm around my middle. “Yeah, right.” I pointed to the pie, a.k.a. the evidence.
“What’s the real reason?”
ox He reached out and tousled my cinnamon brown hair, blocking my view of him. I flipped it back
isinto place and scowled.
he He chuckled, not one bit intimidated by me.
“Your mom called.”
Blast that woman for ratting me out. “This is a pity visit?” I accused.
“Absolutely not!”
re I folded my arms across my chest. “Really?” I asked dryly.
ity “It’s not, I promise.” A concerned look crossed his features. “But how are you holding up?“ He
or.gestured at his eyes, then mine. “You’re a little red.”
Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your heart is raw. Your eyes betray you and join the party.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
le He tapped my knee. “You’re not,” he said tenderly.
so “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” I’d talked enough about my ex to last me a lifetime. I had
to move on from him.
He frowned. “Why?”
st, My emotional bandwidth for the day was spent. Merely the thought of telling Ty all the feelings and
emotions drowning me at the moment was too overwhelming. “I just don’t, okay? If that’s all you
t Icame for, you can leave now.” I pointed to the front door.
He tapped my knee again. “What’s your schedule tomorrow?”
I side-eyed him. “Same as any other Friday. Working until three-thirty unless a guest needs
upsomething. Why?”
d, He nodded, a slight smile on his face. “Perfect. Come out with us. There’s someone I want you to
meet.”
ls Seriously? I ground my teeth. Since Ty was the one who had introduced me to his cousin Blake, I
ntknew he felt awful Blake had broken our engagement. I didn’t hold it against Ty though. It wasn’t his
fault Blake grew too big for a small-town nobody. But after six failed attempts to meet a new guy,
why hadn’t Ty taken the hint to leave me be?
I held my chin up at an angle. “No.”
“Come on.” He nudged me with his elbow. “I don’t like seeing you unhappy, and the best way to
get over a broken heart is to get out and have some fun. It’ll take your mind off Blake. I’m not saying
e.you should jump into another relationship. I’m only suggesting you get out. Besides, even Lys likes
him.”
ck That had some merit. I trusted Ty’s girlfriend, Alyssa, more than I trusted him when it
came to tastes in men. But I had no desire to meet the next victim Ty had lined up. Blake had
crushed me. Completely and incomprehensibly. The process of picking up the pieces of my heart took
time. So, yes, I went on forced dates to appease Mom and Ty, but my heart wasn’t in it.
“The answer is still no,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why are you so mean?”
I’m the mean one? Had he met his cousin? “Why are you so stubborn?”
He He clasped his hands out in front of him as if he were praying. His eyes were wide,
pleading. “Just come out with us tomorrow night. No pressure. I won’t even tell him it’s a date.”
y. “I hope you three have fun, then.” I stood and stared out the side window. My distorted
image stared back at me in the reflection.
“Please?” He joined me at the window.
ad “No, thanks.” I turned to look up at his face, his tall frame forcing my neck back.
“You need to get back out there. Even if it’s just to socialize. Please, Mare Bear?”
Blast him for using my childhood nickname in that gentle tone to get to me. I gazed at the flecks of
ndgold scattered like stars across his emerald eyes. Usually, I’d do anything he asked of me.
ou I released a sigh. “I really, really don’t want to.”
“I don’t like seeing you so sad.”
“I know you don’t.” My anger deflated. “But I need time.”
ds “How much longer will you need? It’s been three months already.”
Already? He didn’t get it. He’d never been engaged before. Never offered his heart to another to
tohold and keep. Blake took my heart, that I willingly gave him, and laughed. He mocked my gift,
chewed it up, and spat it back in my face. Then walked away as if I were a pathetic pawn he’d taken
, Ipleasure in toying with.
his I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms against my chest. “Oh, please, wise one. Tell me how my
uy,life must play out according to you? How quickly should I move on?”
He smirked. “Blake’s an idiot. He wasn’t the one for you. End of story. Why live in the past?”
“You make everything sound so cut and dry. It’s not.” He didn’t know the real reason I struggled
towith my breakup. I hadn’t told anyone the entirety of what happened out of shame for not seeing
ngBlake’s lies earlier. Even Mom only knew a little.
es He went back to the couch and spread out, occupying the entire loveseat. “And you make
everything sound so dramatic.”
I scoffed. “I’m not, and you know it. Wouldn’t your heart take some kind of a hit if you broke up
adwith Lys?”
ok “It’s a moot point.”
“You’ve been dying to say ‘moot’ all day, haven’t you?” I smirked.
He chuckled. “Guilty.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed along with him. Our humor naturally subsided, and we fell into a
comfortable silence. Really, though, how could he move on so fast after a five-month commitment?
 Hold up.
I stiffened, jolted by his words. Why would talking about Ty and Lys breaking up be pointless?
“Wait,” I said, whipping my head up to meet his gaze. “Did you break up with her?”
He sighed. “No. Lys and I are. . .” He shrugged. “Fine.” He refused to meet my gaze.
I raised my brows. Wow, so convincing. Not.
If he didn’t want to open up about how good or bad things were, that was a-okay by me. Alyssa and
I were friends, but we never spoke about her relationship with Ty, and vice versa. His last girlfriend
ofbroke up with Ty because she thought he and I were discussing their relationship behind her back. We
weren’t. In fact, since college, he’d stopped saying anything about his girlfriends until they became
exes.
“Right. . .” I drew the word out.
He shifted on the couch, making room for me. “I didn’t come here so you could psychoanalyze me.
I’m here for you.”
to I plopped down next to him. “I’m going to be okay,” I said, not sure if it was to reassure him or
ft,myself. “I’ve been listening to podcasts, journaling, and reading a lot about healing. I’ll get there,
enokay?”
The pain in my heart had dulled in the last three months. I could take a full breath again. But then
myrandom things like a certain smell or item that reminded me of Blake would pop up, and the torment
resurfaced, quick and hot, like a flame igniting. Tonight’s task certainly didn’t help.
“I know.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sorry I worry so much.” The intensity of his words
edmatched his eyes. Warmth spread from my head to my toes. “I just want you to be happy.”
ng “I appreciate how much you care for me. Really, I do. But maybe ease up a little.” I held up my
thumb and finger, a thin space between them.
ke He smiled. My lips drew upward in response as a lightness expanded across my torso. His smile
had a way of doing that to me.
up “I’ll try.” He nodded once.
“As much as I want to stay up talking, I really should get to bed.”
“Yeah, I have a showing at eight-thirty, anyway.”
He stood and reached his hand out, pulling me to my feet. Once standing, I said, “Thanks for
dessert. Even though I won’t go out with the guy you want.”
a He waved my comment away. “Seeing you is enough.”
“Good night. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
 He walked to the door, keeping one hand on the doorknob. “No need.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ll pick
s?you up at seven.”
I picked up a throw pillow, tossing it at his retreating back. “Don’t you dare!” It hit the
door right after he slammed it.
Too bad for Ty I wouldn’t be around when he came to pick me up tomorrow night. He may think I
ndwas ready for another relationship, but he was so, so wrong.
nd
We
me

me.

or
re,

en
nt

ds

my

ile

for
 He walked to the door, keeping one hand on the doorknob. “No need.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ll pick
you up at seven.”
I picked up a throw pillow, tossing it at his retreating back. “Don’t you dare!” It hit the
door right after he slammed it.
Too bad for Ty I wouldn’t be around when he came to pick me up tomorrow night. He may think I
was ready for another relationship, but he was so, so wrong.
 CHAPTER 2

The car’s brakes screeched to a stop as my date parked in front of the bed-and-breakfast’s garage.
He turned to me in the front seat of his stinky, economy-sized car. “Should I walk you up to your
apartment?”
My fingers, that I’d tucked into the front pouch of my sweater, tightened into fists. “Nope. Right
here is fine. Thanks for buying dinner,” I said through gritted teeth. I opened the passenger door, and
my date’s body odor slammed into me as his arm reached out to grip my shoulder. My nostrils flared
at the stench. I cringed to the right, halfway out the door, forcing his hand to drop away.
“Would you like to go out again?”
No! Not with him. Not with whatever loser Ty or Mom found next. Not with anyone. “I just came
out of a relationship, and I’m not ready for anything serious right now.”
A slimy smile curled his lips upward. “I don’t mind keeping things casual. We can hook up when
you want and not worry about commitment.”
I barely hid my gag. “No, thanks. Good night.” I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I jumped
out of his beat-up VW Bug and slammed the rusty door. Striding to the stairs, I took them two at a
time. My hands shook in anger as I unlocked my apartment door.
Usually being right left me heady, like I was queen of the mountain. Not this time. Being right could
shove it. I threw my purse down on my entry table, kicked my shoes off with a little too much force,
then stomped to my room to take off my worn jeans and hoodie—the outfit I was wearing when Ty
found me at the dock and dragged me out with that disgusting man. Ty and Lys had stayed for dinner,
but Jerry so helpfully volunteered to drive me home. He took the long route, and my head pounded
with every nasty minute I was forced to breathe in his horrid body odor and car that reeked like old
takeout and sweat.
I showered, needing to get the grime of his scent out of my hair. After shimmying my yoga pants
 past my hips, I threw my long hair up into a messy bun, not bothering to look in the mirror. I stormed
into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl full of pie and ice cream from the previous night, then settled in my
bed. Blake’s voice taunted me. “You’ll have to run five miles to burn that off.” I shook my head,
forcing his words out of my mind.
I refocused on texting my matchmaker.
Me: How did you think he would be a good fit for me? Was it his greasy hair? Or the incessant
chatter about himself? Or maybe it was the way he chewed with his mouth open? [angry face emoji]
Or maybe it was the way he SMELLED? [skunk emoji]
I shuddered. The entire night was a nightmare. I should’ve gone shopping or to a movie so Ty
wouldn’t have found me and begged that I go on that wretched date.
e.
T-Rex-Ler: He was a client. He didn’t look unshowered when we were house hunting.
ur
Yeah, well, maybe Ty should go back over to his house and show him how to use the tub.
I pounded on my phone. Me: You owe me. BIG.
ght
T-Rex-Ler: I know. I screwed this one up. I’m sorry. Sooooo so sorry. What can I do to make it
nd
up to you? [praying hands emoji]
ed
What did I want as payback? Dinner at a fancy restaurant? A spa day? Being a successful real
estate agent, he could afford it. I looked around my room for inspiration. In the opposite corner from
my bed was a smaller telescope. Ty didn’t understand my fascination with outer space. He barely
me
tolerated being outside with me while I explored the night sky. Glacier National Park had opened an
observatory at Lake Mary, and I’d been dying to go since they announced it. And now, I would.
en
Me: You. Me. Lake Mary.
A satisfied grin lifted my cheeks.
ed
T-Rex-Ler: That doesn’t sound so bad.
ta
Me: We’re camping.
I cackled as I pictured Ty’s grimace. He hiked, fished, did every water sport imaginable, hunted,
uld
even camped—just not with me. Not anymore, anyway. It may have been because I’d kept him up till
e,
dawn every time we’d camped as kids. Or it could be because of the time he tricked me into going
Ty
backpacking, and I vowed the next time we camped together, I’d pay him back. Whatever his reason,
r,
we were going to Lake Mary.
ed
T-Rex-Ler: Anything else. Please. [watery eyes emoji]
ld
Me: Nope. Lucky for you, I don’t want to go until the weather warms up. You have a few months to
cash in. You can check if there are any openings at the lodge. Otherwise, I hope your sleeping bag is
nts
edcomfy.
my My spoon scraped against the bottom of the ceramic bowl. I’d devoured the pie and ice cream as if
d,I were in a Fourth of July eating contest.
T-Rex-Ler: You have no idea how much I’m dreading this.
Me: Oh, I do. And you deserve it.
nt I grabbed my running shoes and a jacket. Once outside, I started off on a brisk walk, working
ji]myself up to a run. Because of the pie, a stitch formed in my stomach. I held my side and took in long,
deep breaths. What was I even doing out here? Blake no longer had any claim on my life or what I did
Tywith it. Why did I keep trying to appease a man who’d left me?
Immediately, I spun on my heel back toward my apartment. I had to find a way to get Blake out of
my head.

it
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom said, walking into the industrial kitchen. Even though she was the owner,
alshe wore the same clothes as the rest of us—a White Pines polo and black pants. She’d pulled her
omshort, dark brown hair into a low ponytail. At fifty-four, she was stunning. With barely a wrinkle in
lysight and only a few gray hairs, she somehow had found the fountain of youth. I better have inherited
anthose genes.
My arms were elbow deep in warm, soapy water. “I’m almost done with the dishes.”
“No rush.” She leaned her slim hip against the stainless-steel counter. “How was your date Friday
night?”
I shot her a dry look. “It’s time you and Ty stop trying to set me up.”
Her lips turned down. “Maybe with the tourist season starting soon, you’ll have more
d,opportunities.”
ill I shut the faucet off and turned to face her. “I don’t want to get caught up with a visitor,” I shot out.
ng“Or a one-week fling.”
on, I learned that lesson the hard way when I was fourteen. Robbie Mendoza’s dark brown eyes
flashed in my mind. When we met on the beach, I became infatuated at first sight. We were
inseparable for two glorious weeks while he was here on vacation with his family. The night before
tohe left, he gifted me with my first kiss, under a canopy of starlight. It was the best night of my
isfourteenth year. The next day, as he drove away, was the worst.
Mom stepped closer to me, then squeezed my arm. “Maybe a short fling is what you need. Have
 some fun, burn off steam.” That argument seemed to be the only reason Mom and Ty had for why I
ifneeded to date.

No, thank you.

Besides, Blake’s presence in my thoughts overwhelmed me. Anytime it rained, the wet pine
needles were just like his soap. Or when couples checked into our bed-and-breakfast, it ripped open
ngthe Mississippi-River-sized tear in my heart. I had to flee to the restroom to swipe at my eyes and
ng,nose all too often.
did He blindsided me when he broke off our engagement. The words he used to end our connection had
cut so deep, I placed a hand over my heart to make sure it was still there. It mocked me with its slow,
ofstaggered thump. And even though I was getting over him and finding my confidence after the battering

it took, I was in no rush to find a guy.

“I’ll pass on a fling,” I said. “Should we get the tables moved now?”
“I suppose so.” She harrumphed and pointed a finger at me. “But this conversation isn’t over.”
Yeah, it was. She had the best of intentions, and yet, I couldn’t get on board with jumping
er,
wholeheartedly into another relationship. Why couldn’t she or Ty understand that?
her
In the large dining room, we picked up condiment baskets, vases, and tablecloths, placing them in
in
the storage room across the hall. Tonight, the wood-planked room would be set up for a game night.
ed
Three nights a week, Mom hosted events for our bed-and-breakfast guests. When Grandma had
managed the property, she discovered simple gatherings like game night, s’mores and more, and line
dancing brought our guests together, building a place they would come stay summer after summer
ay
because they felt like they were with family.
“Are you sure you can’t make it tonight?” Mom asked as we scooted three tables together, forming
one long row.
re
I never liked being in big groups like Mom did. “Positive.” I nodded once. “Hopefully next week I
can come.” Or not. I’d find another reason to be absent. This evening’s excuse was legitimate. Twice
ut.
a month, I volunteered at the Whitefish Community Center. Tonight we were planning an astronomy
night.
es
“Another date?” Mom asked, a hopeful smile on her face.
re
Because that was the only possibility? “Far from it.” Unless men between the ages of sixty and
re
ninety counted as dates.
my
“Why won’t you tell me what you’re doing? You used to talk to me all the time about everything.”
“I need some privacy in my life,” I muttered.
ve
y I Heaven knew Mom and Ty had my love life wide open for their dissection. Was it too much to ask
that I didn’t share my every waking minute as well?
“You mean living on the property and working together is too much for you?” She sarcastically
neheld a hand over her heart as if I’d offended her.
en “Ha-ha.”
nd Before Mom could respond, a customer poked her head in the door. Mom left to tend to what she
needed while I finished setting up the room. As I pulled the last board game down from the cupboard,
adthe door creaked open. I looked over my shoulder and grinned. “Did you think coming in person
w,would make me change my mind about camping?” I spun around to face him.
ng Ty strode across the room toward me. He exuded confidence in his navy suit and brown leather
shoes. If anyone else were here, their eyes would be glued to him as mine were. As soon as I turned
thirteen, my appreciation for his looks grew until high school, when I knew I was in love with him. I
hid my feelings for him because we’d never been single at the same time, and Ty only loved me like a
ngsister.
If only he’d choose me.
in I tucked those feelings back into the turret I’d locked them in. I had to refortify that fortress way too
ht. often.
ad A low chuckle rumbled in his throat.
ne My smile widened. Dang, he looked fine.
er “Nope.” He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “I’m fully committed to paying up as you
planned.”
ng “You got a reservation at Lake Mary Lodge, didn’t you?”
He smiled conspiratorially and nodded. “I scoured their website for the next availability. I was
k Ilucky to find a Tuesday night open in late August.”
ce “That’s too bad,” I teased. “I was looking forward to hearing your complaints. I had quite the
mypayback planned.”
He snapped his fingers with a sweep of his hand. “You’ll have to save it for another time. There
was only one room open, though, so we’ll have to share.”
nd I groaned. “Only if there are two beds and you wear a nose strip.”
Ty snored like a lion in a fight. He had sleep apnea but refused to get a machine. If we’d camped, I
would’ve suffered too. But at least we’d be in our own tents and I could’ve spaced mine as far from
his as possible.
sk And what about Lys? Sure, she was aware of our long, platonic friendship, but would that bug her
if we shared a room?
ly “Those strips don’t do anything,” he complained with a wrinkled brow.
“How do you know?”
“Just do. But I didn’t come about camping.”
he I folded my arms across my chest. “Okay. Why are you here in the middle of the workday then?”
d, “Because I was showing the property three houses down. And I wanted to ask you something.
onBefore you say no and freak out, this is not a date.”
My brow furrowed. I usually didn’t freak out, but last week’s debacle justified my behavior. And
erwhere had I heard the “not a date” thing before? Oh, right. Last weekend. How had he forgotten
edalready?
. I “I see,” I said. “So, what do you want to ask that’s ‘not a date’?”
a He placed his hands in front of him, asking for patience. “My buddy James from college moved to
Kalispell last month and—”
“No.” I interrupted him firmly. “I’m not going out. Did you not learn your lesson?” My voice—and
oobody temperature—rose. “I don’t need you to find me a boyfriend.” I almost stomped my foot but
caught it in time. No need to prove Ty correct that I sometimes, maybe, freaked out.
He narrowed his eyes, flashing his how much trouble am I really in and is it worth it to push her
expression.
ou “I mean it,” I growled. “You have to stop setting me up. I really don’t like the guys you choose.”
“Last week aside, because I will grant you that one, what do you mean you don’t like who I pick?”
He could be so blind. “Really? Let’s go over the last few months.” I ticked each person off on a
asfinger as I spoke. “There was the dreadfully boring bookkeeper, Dustin. The man-child, Jordan, who
still lived with Mommy. The Star Wars nerd who literally never talked about anything else. Sam, the
hedoctor, remember him? Then last week’s unwashed, self-absorbed loser. Your track record sucks.” I
spat the last word.
re “Okay.” He shuffled his feet. “I admit those weren’t the best choices. But in my defense, your mom
set you up with Jordan and Sam. And my point is to get you out of the house, not marry you off.”
“Your bar of expectations for these men is set at zero. Even if all you’re trying to do is get me to go
, Iout and have fun—which, by the way, not a single date has been—at least have some respect for me
omand choose someone who isn’t a loser. Actually, no. I take that back. Just stop with all of this.”
“I’m not trying to set you up this time, promise,” he said earnestly. “James is new in town and
 erwants to hang out. Meet more people. That kind of thing.”
I pointed a finger at him. “If I find out you’re tricking me, so help me Ty, I won’t talk to you ever
again.”
His eyes flashed with a bit of fear. “I told you I learned my lesson, and I meant it.”
I released a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll come. But I’m pretty sure it’s pointless. It’s not like we’re going
to become besties or anything.”
ng. “Your best-friend status is already taken.” He pointed at himself with a proud smile.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Guaranteed, anyone who spends time with the two of us knows we’re
nd close.”
en “They’d better,” he grumbled. “Anyway, you good for Saturday to hang out with James?”
No. But people pleaser Maren would report to duty so as not to disappoint Ty. “I suppose so,” I
said wearily. “Do you want to grab lunch right now? I could make you a sandwich at my place.”
to He checked his watch, then groaned. “I would love to, but I’m meeting a client in twenty minutes.”
“No worries. I’ll see you Saturday then?”
nd “Yeah. Unless you want to hang out with Lys and me sometime this week?” His eyes lit up.
but I could only handle small doses of Ty and Lys since my breakup with Blake. I didn’t like having
what I once had shoved down my throat. Not that I wanted to be with Blake anymore, but watching
er others cuddle and kiss was still too much.
“No, thanks.”
He pouted. “Why not?”
“Let’s see.” I tapped my chin. “Something about being near a happy couple who is touching and
n alaughing nonstop seems to be. . . how to put it? Gross.”
ho “We’re not that bad.”
he Oh, please. “You totally are.”
I “Whatever.”
“Don’t change because of me. Anyway, I’m sure she would like to spend time with you alone.” I
omwinked.
“Yeah, sure.” He slowly nodded.
go Okay, something was seriously up with him. He’d acted strange when talking about Lys lately. I
me didn’t want to pry. I really didn’t, but knowing him as well as I did, something was off. I touched his
elbow, moving my head so I could meet his eyes. “Is everything okay with you two?”
nd His eyes darted away from mine. “Yeah?”
 Why had he said it like a question? “Look, you know I don’t like to get into your girl problems, but
erI’m here if you need to talk.”
“She keeps talking about marriage,” he blurted.
I blinked. “And?”
ng He moved to the closest table, away from me, and leaned against the edge. “I can’t.” His voice
cracked.
Any day now, I expected a ring on her finger. I thought Ty hadn’t proposed out of sensitivity to my
rebreakup with Blake. I moved next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “Because of your parents?” I
asked tenderly.
Had he changed cologne? His usual scent of bergamot and sea mist was absent. Instead, a musky
” Icitrus wafted up my nose. Get a grip. We’re talking about Ty’s problems right now, not how he
smells.
He nodded as he looked at the floor. “Them. Y—” He shook his head, his cheeks turning slightly
pink. “Nope, I’m not discussing my relationship with you.”
It was official. He’d left crazy town and entered lost-his-mind-ville. Was he going to say you?
ngWhy would I make it so he couldn’t commit? Or be ready for marriage? Was he worried Lys would
ngwant us to stop hanging out?
“I was only trying to help,” I said.
“I appreciate that. My client will be waiting. I should go. See you later.”
“Bye.” I watched his back as he left the room, confused as to what exactly was going on with him
ndand his girlfriend, and what I could do—if anything—about it.

”I

I
his
 Why had he said it like a question? “Look, you know I don’t like to get into your girl problems, but
I’m here if you need to talk.”
“She keeps talking about marriage,” he blurted.
I blinked. “And?”
He moved to the closest table, away from me, and leaned against the edge. “I can’t.” His voice
cracked.
Any day now, I expected a ring on her finger. I thought Ty hadn’t proposed out of sensitivity to my
breakup with Blake. I moved next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “Because of your parents?” I
asked tenderly.
Had he changed cologne? His usual scent of bergamot and sea mist was absent. Instead, a musky
citrus wafted up my nose. Get a grip. We’re talking about Ty’s problems right now, not how he
smells.
He nodded as he looked at the floor. “Them. Y—” He shook his head, his cheeks turning slightly
pink. “Nope, I’m not discussing my relationship with you.”
It was official. He’d left crazy town and entered lost-his-mind-ville. Was he going to say you?
Why would I make it so he couldn’t commit? Or be ready for marriage? Was he worried Lys would
want us to stop hanging out?
“I was only trying to help,” I said.
“I appreciate that. My client will be waiting. I should go. See you later.”
“Bye.” I watched his back as he left the room, confused as to what exactly was going on with him
and his girlfriend, and what I could do—if anything—about it.
 CHAPTER 3

Armed with three telescopes and my laptop bag, I crossed the short parking lot to the entrance of
the small community center. I stared at the glass door, my full arms, and back to the door. Lovely.
Lifting my pinky to the handle, I tried to pry open the door. Muted laughter rang out from inside the
building. I glanced up and an older gentleman, Phillip, whom I’d dubbed the silver fox, approached.
Oh, thank goodness. My finger about broke. I let go of the door handle and shook out the cramp.
Phillip was a widower and quite handsome at sixty-eight years old. All the ladies, including a few
ninety-year-old cougars, flirted with him. If I were twenty years older, I’d be first in line. His tall
frame and semi-muscular shape were hard to ignore.
“Hey, Phillip!” I exclaimed as I took a step away from the entrance.
He held the door open. “Ah, Maren, my dear. Good to see you.”
I shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks for getting that for me.”
The stubble from his short beard scratched against my cheek as he planted a kiss on it. “Happy to
help.”
His sincerity warmed my insides. Not to mention his energetic personality was so much like
Grandpa’s. No wonder I’d rather spend time with him than go on another date.
“Where would you like me to set up?” I asked. The center only had one large room with a giant
bulletin board at the front.
“Over here.” He gestured to the front of the room as I had expected.
“I brought my computer. Can we get the projector set up and the screen pulled down?”
He patted my shoulder. “Sure thing. Anything else you’ll need?” His voice was deep and warm.
“Uh, someone else to talk?” I wished with a hopeful smile.
“Everyone’s excited to hear from you.”
Sure. The only reason I agreed to address the crowd tonight was because we were discussing
 astronomy. Usually, I was more than happy to let someone else lead. I slid my computer out of its bag.
At five past, Phillip got up to welcome everyone.
When it was my turn, I stood in front of the group. “Good evening, everyone. First, I’ll go over
what exactly we’ll be seeing next month, and then I’ll demonstrate how to use the telescopes.”
Polite smiles stared back at me.
“We’ll see the moon, Jupiter, and Saturn. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain on us.”
“My knees will know the day before. We’ll have plenty of warning if we need to reschedule,” Bob,
a gentleman in his late seventies with bushy white eyebrows, said.
I smiled at him. “That would be great. Thanks, Bob.” I went through my slides about each planet
quickly, then pointed to the telescope set up next to me. “I’d like to go over the type of telescopes I
of
brought with me tonight.” I explained the brand and how clear of a view we’d get. “Why don’t you all
y.
come on up and practice looking into the eyepiece without bumping it?”
he
Like a choreographed flash mob, the crowd stood, then moved toward me.
“All right, Marey-Darey,” Mrs. Sheffield—not Judith, I made that mistake only once—said, “show
me how my old bones should be positioned so I don’t mess up your fancy equipment.”
w
I lowered the trifold stand closer to Mrs. Sheffield’s gray eyes.
all
“It’s easiest to get as close as possible to the eyepiece. Put both hands on your knees for support
and lean slightly forward with one eye closed.” I kept my arms out in case I needed to help steady
her.
Her small frame, dressed in pink polyester pants and a white cable-knit sweater, mimicked my
stance. “Like this?” Her steel-gray, perfectly curled hair didn’t move an inch as she bent toward the
to
eyepiece of the telescope.
I smiled. “Exactly.”
ke
“Not much of a view tonight.” She pointed to the lens while winking.
I chuckled. “I know. Tonight was to show you everything and explain what we will see. I promise
ant
next month, it’ll be worth it.”
She stepped away from the telescope and patted my forearm. “I trust you. I do hope I make it
though. Nine is my bedtime. I’m not used to gallivanting around that late.”
“Drink some caffeine so you can stay awake. You won’t want to miss it.”
She grinned, showing her full set of dentures. “A hot date with you and Phillip should do the trick.”
I laughed while shaking my head. “I appreciate you including me. We all know that Si—“ I quickly
cut myself off before saying Silver Fox. No need for everyone to find out I called him that. “Phillip is
ng
 g.the real catch.”
“Oh, he’s too young for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the view.”
ver My brows shot up. “Mrs. Sheffield,” I exclaimed in shock.
“Hush. We don’t want him to overhear. We like to keep our admiration between the women.”
It was like talking to Grandma again. She often talked about the attractive guests that checked in.
My heart squeezed. Grams always said no matter your age, you could appreciate God’s masterpieces.
b,But the most important work He created was on the inside.
I kept my voice low. “You’re quite right. At any rate, I’m happy to spend time with you.”
net “You’re a good woman, Maren. I wish my grandson could meet you.”
s I I opened my mouth to decline the millionth offer of being set up with someone’s relative when
allLoretta interrupted us. “Are you two done jibber-jabbering? I want to try out this spiffy telescope
here.”
I smiled at Mrs. Sheffield as she waddled away. The rest of the night passed quickly. After
owcollecting my things, Phillip held open the door for me, then walked me to my car.
“The night of the viewing party, will you share some of the stories associated with the
constellations we’ll be viewing while we wait in line to see the planets?” he asked.
ort I popped open the back of my twelve-year-old Grand Cherokee, setting the telescopes gently on top
dyof the blanket I kept there.
“I can,” I nodded. “But most of the constellations are based on Greek myths. They don’t really have
myhappy endings.”
he “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “Maybe not, then. The world is hard enough as it is. I like to focus on the
good.”
“As long as you’re there, I know it’ll be a successful night.”
He waved away my comment. But really, without Phillip, I’m sure women like Mrs. Sheffield
sewould leave disappointed regardless of the phenomena they witnessed in the sky.
“You’re too kind, my dear.” He smiled softly. “Have a good night.”
it “You too.” I waved, getting in my Jeep.
I checked my phone, since I’d silenced it before heading into the community center. I had a text
from Mom telling me to have fun while still being safe. I rolled my eyes. I was twenty-six years old.
.” Pretty sure I had adulted long enough to not need a warning on how to stay safe. The others were from
klyTy, spaced every five minutes.
is T-Rex-Ler: Lys is busy tonight. Want to come over to watch the Nationals game with me?
 T-Rex-Ler: I’ll take that as a no??
T-Rex-Ler: Why are you ignoring me?
T-Rex-Ler: Fourth inning, bases are loaded. . .
I rolled my eyes a second time. I loved that he asked me and not one of his guy friends. At the same
in.time, he could benefit from time with his buddies. Between Lys and me, his nights were pretty
es.estrogen-filled. I opened the recent calls list on my phone. T-Rex-Ler’s name appeared the most. I
tapped on his name, putting him on speaker. A ringing echoed in my SUV.
“Hey, Mare.”
“Hiiii.”
en “Why were you ignoring me earlier?”
pe I tapped my thumb against the steering wheel. “I was busy.”
“Doing what?”
er “Believe it or not, I do have other things in my life besides work and you.”
“Really?” He sounded incredulous.
he His words were a punch to the gut. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
Silence carried over the line. Seriously? Was my life so predictable and boring that no one thought
opI could have a social life?
“Ty,” I said sternly.
ve “Sorry, I was watching the game. What were you talking about?”
For real? “You insulted me.”
the “Wait, what did I say? OH! Come on!”
“That I don’t have a life. . .” Obviously Ty’s mind was split between me and the game. “Never
mind. How many innings are left?” Since I’d rather not get roped into helping with game night at
eldhome, watching America’s pastime with Ty enticed me.
“Lots. It’s the top of the fifth. You coming over?”
“Yeah. Want me to stop by the store for snacks?”
“Already have it covered.”
ext That was debatable. “You stopped that weird diet thing already, right? I can’t handle your seaweed
ld.crackers again.” I shuddered.
om His laugh boomed in my ear. “Those were disgusting!”
“You said you liked them. I knew you were lying.”
“I don’t know how Lys eats them. Anyway, I have pretzels, popcorn, M&M’s, soda, chips and dip,
 and peanuts.”
Since when did he become a minimart? Regardless, I could already smell the buttery popcorn
calling my name.
me “Come on in when you get here,” he said. “The door’s unlocked.”
tty “Will do,” I replied. I turned the ignition over and headed to Ty’s condo. Kelly Clarkson and I sang
. Ian anthem about how someday I would feel stronger for moving on from Blake. I wanted so badly to
be okay. The more I said it, the more it would happen. Right?
“You rocked that,” Ty said when the song ended.
“Ah!” I scrambled for my phone, which was still on speaker with Ty. I thought I’d hung up. “Why
didn’t you end our call?”
“I was having fun listening to you try to sound like Kelly.”
I wasn’t the best singer in the world. “You mean you enjoy having your ears bleed?”
“You’re not as bad as you think you are, Mare.”
Liar. I pulled into the parking lot. “I’m here.” After parking and running up the stairs to the top
floor, I hollered “Delivery!” as I entered Ty’s place.
ght “Back here.” His voice floated down the hallway.
I unzipped my boots, then walked toward the open-concept living space. His condo bordered on
the small side. The view more than made up for the lack of square footage though. His oversized
sliding glass door framed the sparkling waves of Whitefish Lake.
I tore my gaze from the water and sat on the opposite end of Ty’s gray couch. “What’s Lys doing
tonight?” I asked.
er He looked at me. “Something with her mom. What were you doing earlier?”
at I got up and walked toward the cupboards, replying while searching for something to eat.
“Community center. Where’s the popcorn and M&M’s?”
“On the second shelf to the left—catch that ball!” he hollered at the TV.
I smiled while rifling through the pantry. I became a huge sports fan when watching with Dad or Ty
because of the entertainment they provided.
ed The microwave beeped, announcing my popcorn was ready. I dumped some caramel and peanut
butter M&M’s on the bottom of the bowl, then shook the popcorn out of the bag on top of the candy. I
carried my snack to the couch and settled in with my feet tucked under me for the last few innings. If I
only allowed myself ten bites, I wouldn’t need to run tonight. Any more than that, and I’d need to burn
p,off the calories to keep my current jeans fitting comfortably.
 Ty reached an arm over, digging around the bowl for an M&M and two kernels of popcorn, the
rnperfect ratio of soft chocolate and salty goodness. Except his hand fished around for a ridiculously
long time.
“Need a little help?” I asked, as if he were a two-year-old who couldn’t quite get what he wanted
ngon his own.
to He moved his hand out of the bowl and motioned me to scoot closer to him. “It would help if you
weren’t sitting so far away. Besides, they’re my snacks. The least you can do is share.”
I leaned farther away from him, taking the bowl with me. “I don’t mind sharing if you ask politely.
hyAnd you could’ve made them a while ago if you really wanted some.”
He lunged toward me, his hand aiming for the popcorn. I shifted my weight to stand, but Ty was too
quick, and my feet got caught, trapping me in a mid-kneel position. His face landed inches from mine.
I held the popcorn bowl above us in my left hand, my right hand gripping the back of the couch. He
smiled so big, his dimple appeared. His eyes shined in triumph.
op I smiled in return.
He stayed close to my face far longer than necessary. The smile fell from my lips.
“Ty?” I asked. “What are you doing?”
on His eyes bore into mine. He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. He moved his
edhead back a few inches before whispering, “You are stunning.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. Uhhhhh. That was totally out of the blue. Complimenting one another
ngcame easily, but this packed more emotion than normal. Not sure how to handle what had just
happened, I playfully pushed his shoulder, getting us back to familiar territory. “Thank you, Mr. Suck-
up. You can have some popcorn.”
at. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before slowly sitting back on the couch. He didn’t slide
over to where he was before. Instead, he stayed in the middle, close to me.
“Figured it wouldn’t hurt my cause. It’s too far of a walk to get my own,” he said. Except his voice
Tywasn’t quite normal.
Furrowing my brows, I studied his profile. His straight nose. Square jaw. Full lips.
nut “Take a picture, Mare, it will last longer.” His gaze stayed on the TV.
. I I jerked my head away. A loud crack filled the room from a hit made by a Braves player. Ty
f Igroaned as the outfielder ran into the back fence, the ball soaring over it.
rn Why had he acted so weird lately? Only because of Lys? Or was there something else going on?
Should I bring up his parents’ divorce? If I did, would he even talk to me?
he Before I knew it, Ty said the popcorn—that I’d had two bites of—was gone, and the game was
lyover. The Braves had won by two runs. I’d watched the last innings but didn’t see any of it.
“You were pretty quiet tonight. You all right?” Ty took the bowl to the sink.
ed “Yeah.” I followed him to the kitchen.
He turned to face me, resting his hip against the sink. “I’ve been told before that I’m a pretty good
oulistener.”
True. Ty would be a great shrink if he ever wanted a career change. But it wasn’t me that we
ly.needed to discuss. “Maybe another night.”
I should research how to support someone whose parents had divorced. Knowledge was power,
ooand if I was going to become a better friend, it started with me and Google.
ne. He closed the gap between us and pulled me into a hug. “I’m here if you need anything. You know
Hethat, right?”
Warmth spread through me as if I’d been hugged by a real-life teddy bear. I nodded against his
solid chest. His chin rested on top of my head. We fit perfectly together, like pie and ice cream. I
hugged people all the time, but it was different with Ty. With him, I felt safe. Right now, his light was
a little dim. And I was going to get him back to his full glow.
his “You know that goes both ways?” I muffled into his chest.
He stepped back, releasing his hold on me. He nodded once. “I do.”
er “Glad we settled that.” I met his eyes, offering him a small smile.
ust “Want to watch a movie?”
k- I checked my watch. With a scrunched nose, I said, “I’d better head home. It’s later than I
realized.”
de “Man.” He hung his head. “Some nights I miss being a teenager. We used to stay up way past
midnight doing whatever we wanted. This adulting business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
ce I chuckled. “There are perks to being a teen, that’s for sure. But I can’t say I’d rather be one again.
Adulting has its freedoms.” And heartaches.
Nope.
Not going there. I deserved a day to be free of the misery Blake provoked.
Ty “Name three.” Ty challenged with a raised chin.
“I don’t have to worry about curfew. I can spend my money how I want.” A slow smile spread up
n?my cheeks. “And I can make out with whomever I want without worrying it will spread through the
school gossips like wildfire.”
as “Ha,” he shot out. “We didn’t have a curfew, so that doesn’t count. But I will concede your other
two points.”
I raised a shoulder and lifted a hand in a cocky, told you I was right motion.
He ran a hand through his hair. His words came out stilted. “You haven’t been kissing anyone, have
odyou?”
“I was referring to my life pre-Blake.”
we His shoulders slumped in relief. “Phew. For a second there, I thought you were keeping things from
me.”
er, “Me?” I batted my eyelashes and clasped my hands under my chin. “Never.”
“You’re a tease.”
w “But you love me anyway,” I joked, twirling around to grab my purse off the table.
“That I do.”
is I stilled. Was that longing in his tone? Nah. Not for me, anyway. More like wishful thinking on my
Ipart. I shoved my feet into my booties. Once I was ready to go, he said, “Take care, Mare Bear.”
as I immediately responded with our childhood valediction. “See you later, Tyla Gator.”

n I

ast

in.

up
he
 “Ha,” he shot out. “We didn’t have a curfew, so that doesn’t count. But I will concede your other
two points.”
I raised a shoulder and lifted a hand in a cocky, told you I was right motion.
He ran a hand through his hair. His words came out stilted. “You haven’t been kissing anyone, have
you?”
“I was referring to my life pre-Blake.”
His shoulders slumped in relief. “Phew. For a second there, I thought you were keeping things from
me.”
“Me?” I batted my eyelashes and clasped my hands under my chin. “Never.”
“You’re a tease.”
“But you love me anyway,” I joked, twirling around to grab my purse off the table.
“That I do.”
I stilled. Was that longing in his tone? Nah. Not for me, anyway. More like wishful thinking on my
part. I shoved my feet into my booties. Once I was ready to go, he said, “Take care, Mare Bear.”
I immediately responded with our childhood valediction. “See you later, Tyla Gator.”
 CHAPTER 4

“You ready to go?” Lys asked, standing on the landing outside my apartment, looking stunning with
her straight black hair, naturally tanned skin, and tight dress. Ty was right behind her.
Meeting Ty’s teammate from college had my insides quivering. “What do you know about James?”
I yanked my boots and denim jacket on. “Ty only said he’s moved to Kalispell and was looking for
friends.” Did they get the hint? Friendship, not boyfriend. I wasn’t sure who was invited tonight, but
there better be plenty of people for James to meet.
Lys replied as we walked down the stairs. “I’ve only met him once. He was super nice though. And
don’t tell Ty, but crazy hot too.” She stage-whispered the last part.
Ty shook his head with narrowed eyes, keeping his line of sight directly on Lys as we descended
the stairs. Would I hold up to someone who could be on a movie screen? I was average, not gorgeous.
According to Blake, I was too plain for Hollywood.
“My lips are sealed.” I put my fingers to my lips and twisted, flicking my hand away. “Ty will
never hear from me how attractive James is.”
Ty, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe our conversation, opened the passenger door for Lys.
She placed a kiss on his cheek before hauling herself into her seat. I smirked. Lys loved to touch Ty
any chance she got.
On the drive, Ty filled me in on James. They’d met at Montana State University where they played
rugby together. James recently graduated from veterinary school at Colorado State and got a job at an
emergency clinic in Kalispell, which was how Ty reconnected with him. He was twenty-seven,
single, and ready for fun.
My knee bounced the longer Ty talked. Unlike the previous men Ty had set me up with, James met
all the criteria of a catch. Why couldn’t Ty have reunited with James a year ago, before I met Blake?
We parked a few blocks away from The Craggy Range, and immediately my mouth went dry.
 Regardless that tonight was just for fun, my insides were protesting. My shoulders tensed and my legs
stiffened as we strolled to the restaurant. We passed quaint storefronts, most with a small-town
western feel to the decor.
I stumbled ahead of Ty and Lys. I’d been the third wheel far too often lately. As friends, James
could even out our numbers. If I made it through the night. With how uptight I was, I wasn’t sure he’d
want to part as anything other than acquaintances.
As I approached the door, I turned around to ask Ty and Lys if they were going to continue to walk
as slow as molasses. Before I got a word out, the door flung open right into me. I stumbled forward,
shouting “Ouch!” while losing my balance. Pain radiated down the back of my body. Ty’s strong arms
caught me before my knees hit the sidewalk.
th
Oh man, oh man. That hurt! I blinked back the stinging tears.
“You okay?” Ty asked. His eyes were soft, his brow furrowed.
?”
I rubbed my head, a bump already forming. “I think so,” I croaked.
or
Lys and someone else’s shadows hovered over us. Lys scolded the stranger. “James! You hurt your
ut
date.”
What? Did Lys just say date? Oh, heck no. Nuh-uh. Ty promised he wouldn’t do this again. I fisted
nd
my hands, ready to tell Ty off and bolt.
A deep voice said, “I am so sorry! I saw you guys walking up and went to open the door for you.
ed
She turned right as I swung it open. Are you all right?” He asked me.
us.
More like he threw the door open. That swing packed quite the punch. I stepped out of Ty’s grasp
and turned. I blinked several times as heat spread down my neck.
ill
W.O.W.
I couldn’t stop staring. He wasn’t as tall as Ty, but his shoulders were broader. There was no way
s.
he kept up on rugby—what vet had time for that?—but his build screamed that he was conditioned to
Ty
play. He’d styled his black hair with a slight flip in the front. His hazel eyes, which were on mine,
stole the show. They were olive and bronze swirled together, and absolutely mesmerizing.
ed
“I’ll be okay,” I said breathlessly. What was a little pain when I got to be in this man’s company
an
the rest of the evening? And did I say we’d only be friends? Bless Ty for setting this up as a date.
n,
I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it in place.
Ty pointed between us, a slight frown on his face. “James, this is Maren. Maren, James.”
met
I slipped my hand into his and shook it with a firm grip, a soft, flirty smile on my lips.
“Let’s go get a table.” Lys pulled on Ty.
ry.
 gs James opened the door, motioning for me to walk in first. It took a bit longer than usual to get
wninside. My head and back weren’t too happy when I attempted to stand up straight. I gritted my teeth
against the pain. Once I had food in me, I’d be fine.
es The scent of smoked meat filled the air, making my mouth water. We were ushered to a booth right
’daway. The men sat on one side, with Lys and I on the other. We placed our drink orders before
casually chatting over the menu. I usually ordered the fish tacos, but the savory barbeque aroma
lkcalled out to me.
rd, “What are you all planning to get?” James asked while studying his menu.
ms “I’m getting the tuna salad,” Lys said.
Of course she was. I hid my fake gag behind my menu. When had she ever ordered differently?
“The pork and bacon burger,” Ty replied. “But everyone save room for dessert.”
“What about you?” James asked me.
“Pork sliders.” I debated the merits of a normal size, but the smaller portion would be Blake-
ur approved. And while his opinion shouldn’t matter anymore—or ever—his constant reminders about
my size and caloric intake while we dated became so ingrained, I had a hard time not focusing on it.
ed“That way I keep my portions in check.” My cheeks burned. I hadn’t meant to say that last part out
loud.
ou. James tucked his chin, confusion taking over his features. “You’re beautiful. Why are you worried
about that? Get what you want.”
sp Ty chimed in, also confused. “It’s not like you to be concerned about that, Mare. What’s going on?”
I fiddled with the menu, buying myself time to respond. How did I tell them my ex was awful
without word vomiting every abusive thing Blake told me? “Really, I’m not that hungry, so the sliders
ayseemed a better option,” I lied.
to Ty sent me a disbelieving look that said we’d talk later.
ne, “If I get fish tacos, do you want to trade one for one?” James offered. “The pork looks good, but
I’m going to need a bigger portion. Are you okay with ordering the full-size?”
ny He was asking me? Blake never asked my opinion, just gave his. And James wanted to share after
knowing me all of five seconds? Definitely retracting my friends statement. My shattered heart could
deal with it. Well, maybe not. What if James turned out like Blake? Sweet at the start and a monster at
the end? Besides, look at James and then at me. He easily could be a model. I belonged hidden away
in the bed-and-breakfast’s kitchen.
I wasn’t good enough for him.
get “I’ll agree on one condition,” I replied in a flirtatious tone. Ugh. My brain was going to take a
ethminute to catch up to my heart.
“Name your terms,” James responded with a smile.
ht “We do the same with dessert.”
re “You’ve got a deal.” James winked.
ma Lys bumped my elbow and flashed me a small smile. I kept my focus on James, ignoring her.
After we ordered, Ty asked James about a few buddies from their rugby team. I sipped my water,
hoping it would somehow ease the throbbing in my head, as they updated one another on their friends.
Ty asked about James’s work, and I leaned forward to catch every word, trying to ignore my sore
body.
“Overall, you like the clinic you work at, then?” I asked James, fiddling with my straw wrapper.
“So far.” He nodded. “It’s crazy busy though. At least my parents are happy I’m back in Montana,
ke-even if we’re still over two hours away from each other. They didn’t like it when I went to grad
utschool at Colorado State.”
it. I knew the feeling. “My parents couldn’t wait for me to get home from college either. Although I’m
outnot sure if it’s because they missed me or the extra hands I provide.”
“Don’t be so modest,” Ty jumped in. “You know your parents want you around for you. Everyone
eddoes.”
“Everyone, huh?” I raised my brow in a challenge. Did he forget about his cousin who left me three
?” months ago? And not only left, but burned me to ashes as he went?
ful He haughtily replied, “Anyone who’s anyone does.”
rs I smiled and gently shook my head. Leave it to my best friend to lift my spirits.
“What’s your degree in?” James asked.
“Hospitality management.”
but “Her family owns The White Pines Bed-and-Breakfast,” Lys said, using her hands to accentuate her
speech. “It’s amazing. The lodge is a huge log cabin. Then the guest houses are baby cabins tucked
erbehind it. It’s pretty. You should see it sometime.”
ld “Only if you want to.” I met his gaze head-on. He was under no obligation to pretend we had to
athang out after tonight. And honestly, I was a mess. I didn’t deserve someone like James.
ay “We should all go kayaking on Whitefish Lake sometime,” Lys said enthusiastically.
Ah, and there goes Lys coupling us together. Was it her idea we kept to a small group tonight? Ty
said James was only looking to make friends. He promised there would be a big crowd. The four of
e aus indicated the opposite. Unlike what Ty admitted about the other crappy guys he set me up with,
James actually had potential for more than just fun. Was this Ty’s way of making up for those horrible
dates, or was this Lys’s doing?
All these questions made my head pound harder, when it didn’t even matter in the end. I was too
damaged to be in a relationship.
“I’d love to come see the property and kayak.” James’s lips lifted into a gorgeous smile. My
er,stomach fluttered in response.
s. “Uh. Yeah, sure.” I smiled at James.
re Ty grunted.
I peeked at Ty. His lips were in a straight line, brows creased in the middle. What was his deal?
This whole night was confusing and super annoying.
na, “Ty, what was playing rugby with James like?” Lys asked.
ad His lips shot up on one side. “It was the best four years. James was one heck of a hooker.”
My brows rose multiple times. “Hooker, huh?”
’m “Not like that. Geez, Mare, get your mind out of the gutter,” Ty chided, shaking his head.
James looked at me and silently mouthed, “Okay.”
ne My shoulders caved in on themselves.
Lys piped up, sparing us an awkward silence. “What was the worst injury you had from playing?”
ee James spoke first. He leaned his elbows on the table, getting closer to us. “Every game we played
ended in bruises and blood. The worst was this guy from Western State. He had such a foul mouth and
huge ego. By the end, we were all sick of him. I tried to get a good shot at him, hoping it would shut
him up. Instead, he took a cheap shot at my ankle and broke it.”
“Ouch.” I winced.
“Yeah, that match sucked,” Ty agreed. “We lost as well. Remember that?”
er James nodded. “I was out the rest of the season because of him.”
ed “You made up for it the next year though. I swear you were better after your ankle injury,” Ty said.
“I was out for blood.” He winked.
to Our food arrived, interrupting their battle reminiscing. Perfect timing. Their talk of bruises and
blood made me nauseous. As I ate, my goose egg hummed.
I took a few bites, but the sandwich turned over in my stomach. I pushed the food around my plate
Ty while the other three kept up the conversation. After switching one of James’s tacos for half of my
ofsandwich, I excused myself to the restroom.
 h, Lys walked in as I exited the stall. She smiled in a knowing way. “What are your thoughts on
le James?”
I rubbed my hands together, lathering soap. He was handsome and cute. But there wasn’t a future
oofor us. I wasn’t on the same level of attractiveness as he was. He was a vet, I just worked at my
family’s hotel. He was a lot like Blake. Big, bold, handsome. I was the exact opposite. I forced a
Mysmile. “He’s fine. Although Ty’s acting a little weird.”
“I know.” She huffed. “He’s been. . . aloof the last few weeks. But he won’t tell me why. Has he
said anything to you?”
My stomach jumped. I would not betray what information, albeit little, he’d confided in me. “No,
l?he hasn’t.”
“Well, you’re no help.”
“Sorry.” Not sorry. “I should head home,” I said. “My head is hurting.”
She nodded. “It was a pretty loud thud when the door hit you. It’s also kind of funny. James made
quite a bang meeting you.” She smacked her hands together.
“Very funny,” I deadpanned.
Back at our table, the waitress cleared our plates. “Hey, Ty,” I said, “my head isn’t doing well.
Will you take me home?”
He pursed his lips. “Can we at least get dessert?”
ed The longer I stayed, the more my head pounded. I waved my hand toward the hostess stand. “Will
ndyou see if they’ll pack it to go?”
hut James leaned toward me. “I can drive you home. If you don’t mind.”
I minded. “That’s sweet of you to offer. But it’s completely out of the way. Ty picked me up. I’m
sure he planned to take me home anyway.” I stared at Ty, silently asking him to confirm that he
wouldn’t pull the stupid stunt he had the last time with greasy guy.
He set the dessert menu he’d been browsing down. “Yeah, I’ll drive you.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” James said with sad eyes. “Especially since it’s ending our night early.”
I shook my head, then sucked in a quick breath. “I’ll be fine after some ibuprofen and a good
ndnight’s sleep.”
“Wait a minute. . .” Lys tapped her chin. “Aren’t you supposed to stay awake after a head injury?”
ate “They don’t really recommend that anymore,” James said.
my “Maybe you should stay for a little bit after taking her home,” Lys said to Ty. “Just to be sure.” She
reached across the table and signaled for his hand. He reluctantly acquiesced, placing his fingers in
 onhers.
“If you insist.” He offered a weak smile.
re I slid down the booth until my head rested on top of the seat. Ty and James took care of the bill.
my “Let’s go.” Ty waved us to get up and move. Outside, the crisp spring air seeped into my lungs. I
d aturned to James one last time.
“It was nice to meet you,” I said. “Sorry our evening got cut short.”
he He stuffed his hands in his front jean pockets. “It’s my fault. But, uh, maybe I could get your number
and we can reschedule?”
No, I pulled the strap of my purse up on my shoulder. My fingers stayed wrapped around the leather
strip, holding it tight. It was one thing to go out with the other guys Ty set me up with, because they
were safe. I knew I wouldn’t fall for those random people.
But James? In the hour I’d spent in his company, he was the real deal. As attractive as I found him,
deI couldn’t do it.
“I really should get going. Maybe you can get it from Ty later?”
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded while releasing a breath.
ll. Well, nice knowing you, buddy. “See ya later.” I waved while I stalked off toward Ty’s truck.
Once inside, I rested my head against the window. Finally, I could get home and sleep and not worry
about men.
ill

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he

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in
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out for cash. He hasn’t got it, but he’ll make the others dig it up from
the sinking fund. Right then that company will begin to get a pain in
the stumick-ache. They’ll see you makin’ ready to go ’way and they’ll
all begin playing for position. You hang to your cattle selling as
though you didn’t have another idea on earth.”
Neighbor Jones rose to go.
“And while you start that I’m going round and throw the clutch of
circumstance into the high gear.”
 Chapter VI
IN the lobby of the Windsor Hotel, as Neighbor Jones came down
the stairs, Mr. Octaviano Baca chatted with a little knot of guests. A
well-set-up man, tall and strong, with a dark, intelligent face marred
and pitted by smallpox but still pleasing, he carried his two score
years with the ease of twenty. A gay man, a friendly man, his manner
was suave and easy; his dress, place considered, rigorously correct
—frock coat, top hat, stick, gloves and gun. The gun was covered,
not concealed, by the coat; a chivalrous concession to the law, of
which he was so much an ornament.
Baca was born to riches, and born to the leadership of the clans. He
had brains in his own right; but it was his entire and often proved
willingness to waive any advantage and to discuss any moot point
with that gun which had won him admiration from the many and
forgiveness from the few.
Mr. Jones sank into a quiet chair and read the newspapers. When
Mr. Baca, after several false starts, left his friends and went out on
the street, Mr. Jones rose and followed him. Mr. Baca turned in at
Beck’s place, Jones behind him.
Gambling was completely eliminated in Saragossa, but the saloon
was in high favor legally; so Beck and Scanlon kept a saloon openly
on the ground floor. The poker rooms and the crap, monte, roulette
and faro layouts were upstairs. Their existence was a profound
secret. No stranger could find the gambling den in Saragossa
without asking somebody—any one would do; unless, indeed, he
heard, as he passed, the whir of the ivory ball or the clicking of chips.
Baca, with a nod and a smile for the bar, passed on to join a
laughing crowd behind, where two native boys were enjoying a bout
with the gloves. Neighbor leaned on the bar. The partners were ill
matched. Beck was tall, portly and, except for a conscientious,
professional smile, of a severe countenance, blond, florid and flaxen.
Scanlon was a slender wisp of a blue-eyed Irishman, dried up,
wizened and silent.
“Well, boys,” said Neighbor jovially, “I got to go back to the hills and
grow a new fleece. Till then, you’ve lost my game. Sorry.”
Beck frowned.
“I hate to see a good fellow go bust. If boys like you had plenty of
money I wouldn’t never have to work. Well, hurry on back! And come
straight here the first night, before you waste any on clothes and
saddles and stuff.” He lowered his voice for Neighbor’s ears. “Say, if
you’re short, you know—hotel bills, and so on—come round.” He
jerked a confidential thumb at the house safe.
“Not so bad as that!” laughed Neighbor. “But you want to sharpen
your shears up. They pulled a little this time.” He passed on to the
circle round the boxers.
It was late dusk when, after certain sociable beverages, Mr. Baca
bethought himself of supper and started homeward. As he swung
along the sidewalk Mr. Jones was close behind. Mr. Baca took the
first turn to the left: Mr. Jones took the first turn to the left. Mr. Baca
cut across the Park: Mr. Jones also cut across the Park, now almost
at his quarry’s heels. Mr. Baca wheeled.
“Did you wish to speak with me?”
Neighbor came forward, with an air of relief.
“Why—er—not exactly; but I’d just as lief as not. And it’ll be easier
for me, now it’s getting so dark. You see,” he said confidentially, “I’m
shadowing you!”
“You’re—what?”
“Shadowing you. You seemed to have plenty of money; and I
thought,” said Neighbor hopefully, “that I might catch you doing
something wrong and blackmail you.”
“Are you trying to break into jail?” demanded Baca sharply. “You are
either intoxicated or mentally deficient. In either case——”
“No, no,” said Neighbor soothingly. “I’m not drunk. I really need the
money.”
“Except that I doubt your sanity,” said the outraged lawyer, “I’d make
you regret this bitterly. Do you know who I am?”
“Sure! You’re Tavy Baca—Boss, Prosecuting Attorney and two-gun
man. And please don’t talk that way about me,” Neighbor pleaded in
an injured voice. “It makes me feel bad. You wouldn’t like it yourself.
Don’t you know me? I’m not insane. I’m Jones—Neighbor Jones. I’ve
been bucking the poker game at Beck’s. But there—you don’t know
about the poker game, of course—you being Prosecuting Attorney
and all.”
“See here!” said Baca with a dull, ugly note, “if you’re looking for
trouble you can get enough for a mess!”
“Not trouble—money!”
“I warn you now,” Baca advised. “Do not follow me another step. I’m
going.”
Jones burst into joyous laughter with so free and unfeigned a note
that Baca turned again.
“Come!” cried Jones. “I know what you think I’m going to say—that
before I started I left a sealed envelope with a friend and told him if I
didn’t come back by X o’clock to break the seal and be guided by the
contents—that’s what you thought I’d say. But you’re wrong!”
Unhesitatingly he took the few steps separating him from that silent,
angry figure in the starlight. “Nobody knows what I’m up to but you
and me and God, and you’re not right sure. So don’t waste any more
breath on warnings. I’m warned—and you are!”
Without a word Baca turned at right angles to his homeward course,
and led the way swiftly up the dark and steep street to a dark and
silent quarter of the Mexican suburb. Toward the street, these old
adobe homes presented a blank wall; windows, and all doors save
one, fronting on the inclosed patio.
“It’s like this,” said Jones cheerfully, pressing along the narrow way a
yard behind: “I had a nice little bunch of cows—nigh onto two
hundred—out in the Monuments. And Bennett, he was projecting
about like a roarin’ lion out there; and he says: ‘Jones, why don’t you
buy the Bar Nothing brand?’ ‘No money,’ says I.... I say, Baca, don’t
go so fast! This ain’t no Marathon! Lonesome, shivery place, isn’t it?”
The silent figure walked still swifter.
“Oh, all right, then! ‘I’ll lend you the money,’ says Bennett, ‘an’ take a
mortgage on both brands.’ ‘There’ll come a drought,’ says I, ‘and
them cattle will lay down and die on me, a lot of ’em; and I’ll find
myself in a fix.’ And he did, and they did, and I did.”
No word from Baca. In the black shadow of the dark unlighted
houses he passed swiftly and unhesitatingly. Jones continued:
“Since that I paid him all but eighteen hundred-odd; and now the
mortgage comes due pretty sudden, and I stand to lose both
brands.... Say, Baca, where’re you takin’ me to? Some gang of
thugs? You can do that all right—but I’ll get you first and I’ll get you
hard, and I’ll get you sure! Don’t make any mistake!”
Baca gave way to his feelings.
“Oh, bother!” he said, and stopped, irresolute.
“What do you mean anyway, actin’ the way you do?” demanded
Jones, mopping his forehead. “Wouldn’t it sound silly, if I lay a-dyin’,
for you to threaten me with jail and shootin’ and law? They’d sound
real futile, wouldn’t they? Well, I’m dying right now. I’ve been a long
time at it; but there ain’t no cure for what ails me but death. I refer, of
course, to the malady of living.”
“Damn your eyes!” cried the exasperated King of Saragossa; and he
began rapidly to retrace his steps.
“And so,” continued the dying man, keeping pace, “I don’t never back
up. When I start out to blackmail a man he might just as well be nice
about it, ’cause I’m going to blackmail him.”
Despite himself, Baca had to laugh.
“What are you going to blackmail me for?”
“About two thousand,” said Jones.
“But what have I done?”
“Good Lord, man!” said Jones blankly. “I don’t know!”
“Come!” said Baca, and clapped his persecutor on the back. “I like a
brave man, even if he is a damned fool! Come home to supper with
me. I’ve got a little bachelor establishment beyond the Park, with an
old Mexican hombre who can give you the best meal in town.”
“You’re on! And after supper, then we can fix up that mortgage, can’t
we? I want to specify that now, so I can eat your salt without
prejudice.”

“And now,” said Baca, replenishing his guest’s wine-glass, “about the
blackmail. Of what particular misdeed do you accuse me?”
“When you asked me to supper,” said Jones thoughtfully, “you
virtually admitted there was something. You see that? But I don’t like
to intrude on your private affairs—to butt in, as we say in Harvard.”
The host fixed keen eyes on him.
“As we say in Harvard? Yes,” he purred. “Go on!”
“It is very distasteful to me. Instead of me naming your crime-or
crimes—why could you not beg me to accept a suitable sum as a
recognition of my good taste? Just as you please! It’s up to you.”
“As we say in Harvard!” suggested Baca lightly, lifting his brows with
another piercing look.
“As we say in Harvard,” agreed Jones. “Any sum, so long as it
comes to exactly two thousand. Or, you might use your influence to
get Bennett to cancel my mortgage—that would be the same thing.
He offered to cancel it once this afternoon—on a condition.”
“And that condition?”
“Was not acceptable. It betrayed too plainly the influence—the style,
we might say—of the James brothers.”
“William and Henry?”
“Jesse and Frank. Man, dear,” said Neighbor with sudden, vehement
bitterness, “you and me, we’re no great shakes. You’re goin’ to rob
young Drake and I’m going to take hush money for it; but this man
Bennett is a stinking, rancid, gray-headed old synonym. He is so
scared he won’t be happy till he gets that boy killed. If I was as big a
coward as that, durned if I’d steal at all!”
Baca struck the table sharply; splotches of angry red flamed in his
cheeks.
“And I told him I wouldn’t stand for it! Damn him! Look here, Jones,
you ought to be boiled in oil for your stupefying insolence; but, just to
punish him, I’ll make Bennett pay your price. It will be like drawing
teeth; give me time.”
 Chapter VII
THE rain drenched in long shudders. Here and there a late lamp
blurred dimly at a pane; high-posted street lamps, at unequal and
ineffectual distances, glowed red through the slant lines of rain,
reflected faintly from puddle and gutter at their feet. Alone, bent,
boring into the storm, Martin Bennett shouldered his way to Baca’s
door under the rushing night.
A gush of yellow struck across the dark—the door opened at his first
summons; he was waited for. The master of the house helped him
from his raincoat and ushered him through crimson portières into a
warm and lighted room. Three men sat before an open fire, where a
table gleamed with glasses and bottles. There were two other doors,
hung, like the first, with warm, bright colors, reflecting and tingeing
the light from fire and lamp—a cheerful contrast to the raw, bleak
night outside.
Here the good cheer ceased. The three faces, as they turned to
scowl at the newcomer, were sullen, distrustful and lowering.
Despite the raincoat, Bennett was sodden to his knees; his hands
and face and feet were soaked and streaming. No friendly voice
arose to remark on his plight; an ominous silence had prevailed
since the street door had opened to him. He bent shivering to the
fire. With no word the host filled and brought to him a stiff glass of
liquor. Bennett drained it eagerly and a little color crept back into his
pinched features.
Owen Quinliven broke silence then, with a growl deep in his throat.
“Thought you’d better come, eh?” His mustached lip bristled.
“The storm was so bad. I thought it might let up after a while,” said
Bennett miserably.
“Don’t make that an excuse,” said Beck with a cold sneer. “You might
have slipped over to our place, a short block; or you could have had
us meet you at your own office.”
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” expostulated Baca, with a curling lip. “You
do not understand. Mr. Bennett has his position to think of. Mr.
Bennett is highly respectable. He could not let it be known that he
had traffic with professional gamblers like Mr. Beck and the
estimable Scanlon.” He bowed ironically; the estimable Scanlon
rolled a slow, wicked little eye, and Baca’s cheek twitched as he
went on: “I say nothing, as you observe, of myself or of our worthy
friend Quinliven, who, as I perceive, is in a very bad temper.”
Quinliven glowered at the speaker like a baited bull. He was a huge,
burly man with a shaggy, brindled head, a bull neck, a russet face
knotted with hard red lumps, and small, fiery, amber-colored eyes
under a thick tangle of bushy brows. The veins swelled in his neck
as he answered.
“Well, he’ll have some traffic with me, and do it quick! Here I’ve
talked young Drake into selling out and going home; I’m giving him
twenty-five hundred dollars too much, standin’ the loss out of my
share—and me not getting a full share at all! All I get is the cattle,
while the rest of you pull down nearly twelve thousand apiece, net
cash. That part is all right though. That’s my own proposition. I don’t
begrudge the little extra money to the boy, and I want him to get
away from here for his own sake as well as for mine. This crawling,
slimy Bennett thing is bound to have that boy killed.” He glared at the
steaming banker by the fire. “I don’t see how that man got by with it
so long. He wouldn’t last long on the range. And now, after I’ve made
the trade, Bennett hems and haws, and hangs fire about giving up
the money.”
“You don’t understand,” protested the wretched banker. “You’ll get
your share; but it would inconvenience me dreadfully to take that
amount of money immediately from a little private bank like mine. In
ninety days, or even sixty, I can so adjust my affairs as to settle with
all of you.”
“My heart bleeds for you,” said Beck sympathetically. “For I’m going
to inconvenience you a heap more. You’ll adjust your affairs in less
than ninety hours, or even sixty. I’ve been fooled with long enough.
That pass book calls for a little over forty-six thousand dollars. We
expected to get half. Instead we’ve got to split it four ways. Young
Drake is going and I want my split right now.”
“What about me?” cried the banker in wild and desperate
indignation. “What do I get? Barely a fourth! And you two have
Drake’s money already—heaven knows how much!”
“Heaven don’t,” said Beck.
“But do I get any of that?” shouted the outraged banker.
“You do not,” returned Beck. “In the first place, the men are different.
You stepped out of your class when you started to mingle with the
likes of us. Why should you bother to rob a perfect stranger anyhow?
And you with money corded up! I don’t understand it.”
“Bennett!” cried the ranchman, “if I stood in your shoes, before I’d
allow any man to use me like we’re using you, I’d go to Drake and
give that money up. I’d say: ‘Young fellow, I meant to rob you; but my
conscience troubles me, and so do my feet.’ You ain’t got the gall,
and you’re too big a hog. I dare you to!”
“And in the next place,” continued the complacent gambler, ignoring
the interruption, “there’s not one scrap of paper to connect our
money with Old Drake. Part of it is ours anyhow, that we’ve made
honestly——”
“At poker,” corrected Scanlon.
“At poker, I should say. But we’ve got your receipts, Mr. Banker.
That’s what makes you squirm! And they’re where you can’t get ’em;
so it won’t do you any good to get any of us murdered, the way you
tried to do that boy.”
“He tried it again yesterday,” interposed Baca softly.
Quinliven brought his heavy hand crashing down on the table.
“You damned coward! I told you to drop that!” His red mustache
prickled fiercely; above his eyes the red tufts knotted to bunches. He
glanced round at his fellows. “Look here; there’s no damn sense in
hurting that kid, the way things stand. If Drake gets killed over this
I’m going to see that Bennett swings for it if I have to swing with him
—the yellow cur!”
The banker shriveled under his look.
“Your sentiments do you vast credit,” observed Baca suavely. “I
concur most heartily. But, my good fellow, why bawl your remarks?”
He accompanied the query with a pleasant smile.
Scanlon raised his head to watch. The ranchman’s fingers worked
and quivered; for a moment it seemed as though he would leap on
his tormentor; but he settled back.
“I’m with you,” said Scanlon.
Then, noting that Beck did not commit himself to this self-denying
ordinance, he filled a glass with wine and, as he drank it, observed
his partner narrowly from the tail of his eye.
“You may rest easy, Mr. Quinliven,” observed Baca, straddling with
his back to the fire and his hands to the blaze. “There will be no need
for you to carry out your chivalrous intention. I assure you that while I
live I am perfectly capable of selecting a jury that will hang Mr.
Bennett without the disastrous concomitant you mention; and I shall
take great pleasure in doing so should need arise. I should hate to
see you hanged, Quinliven—I should indeed! You distress me! But I
fear——” He left the sentence unfinished, shaking his head
sorrowfully. “Mr. Bennett, I am sure, will bear himself to conform with
our wishes. However, I find myself in full accord with Mr. Bennett in
the matter of the moneys now in the hands of Messrs. Beck and
Scanlon, and wrongfully withheld from our little pool.”
“That will be a-plenty,” said Beck. “For fear of mistakes I will now
declare myself. We admit that we have a bundle of the Drake money
and we announce that we are going to keep it. How much, is
nobody’s business but our own. In consideration of that fact,
however, the two of us lay claim to only one full share of the Drake
deposit. That gives us twelve thousand; Bennett as much; the
Honorable Prosecuting Attorney the same; the Double Dee brand to
Quinliven. That’s final!”
“I suppose you know, Mr. Beck,” said Baca, cupping his chin, “your
little joint can be closed any time I lift a finger?”
“Baca,” said Scanlon with level eyes, “you’ll close nawthin’! We
bought protection from you. We’ll get what we bought. When you feel
any doubts comin’ on, don’t talk to Beck about it. Talk to me! And,”
he added with venomous intensity, “one more word about any divvy
on our poker roll and that pass book goes to Ducky Drake!” He
tapped his breast. “I’ve got the pass book—not Beck.”
“Well, well,” said Baca indulgently, “have your own way. Far be it
from me to question any gentleman’s ultimatum, and so, perhaps,
bring a discordant note into our charming evening. Let us pass on to
the next subject. Is everybody happy? No! Mr. Bennett is not happy.
Mr. Bennett is a very able man, as we all know—exemplar to the
young—a rich man, merchant prince, and all that. And yet we can
quite understand that he may be temporarily embarrassed for actual
cash. I, for one, am willing to allow him a reasonable time. He cannot
hide his real estate; so we shall be taking no risks. Doubtless we can
stand off young Drake for the price of his cattle by giving him good
security.”
The silent Scanlon leaped up and snarled in unimaginable ferocity.
“If there’s any more shilly-shally there’ll be a Standing Room Only
sign on the gates of hell and the devil sending out a hurry-up call for
the police!” His voice swelled in breathless crescendo. “I’m sick of
you—the whole pack and pilin’! I want to get so far away from here
it’ll take nine dollars to send me a postcard; so far east they’ll give
me change for a cent; so far north the sun don’t go down till after
dark.” His eyes were ablaze with blistering scorn. “Gawd! Look at
yourselves! Quinliven—the honorable, high-minded, grave-robbing
pardner——”
“Here!” bellowed Quinliven savagely. “I came through with the cattle,
straight as a die! That’s as far as I was any pardner of Drake’s. You
don’t know how that man treated me! It wasn’t only me doing all the
work—but his cold, sneering, overbearing——”
“Shut up, you polled Angus bull!” yelled Scanlon with a howl of
joyous truculence. “And Bennett—faugh! P-t-t-h!”
Scanlon spat in the fire, and wheeled on the other gambler. Beck’s
face was black with concentrated hate. The little man pointed a
taunting finger.
“Look at Beck!” he jeered. “Guess what he knows I think of ’im! And I
know him—he’s me pardner! Fish mouth and mackerel eye—— Yah!
And all three of you knuckle down to Baca! Year after year you let
yourselves be bullyragged, browbeaten, lorded over by a jury-
packing, witness-bribing shyster—a grafter, a crook, a dirty Mexican
——”
Without hesitation or change of countenance Baca walked across
the open space toward him.
“Not one step more!” said Scanlon.
Baca stopped in his tracks.
“You nervy little runt,” he said, half in admiration, “you mean it! Well, I
mean this, too. If I’m a crook—and there is much in favor of that
contention—it is because my personal inclination lies that way, and
not in the least because of my Mexican blood. I am quite clear on
that point. Leave out the part about the dirty Mexican and I don’t take
that other step. Otherwise, I step! Choose!”
“I withdraw the Mexican!” said Scanlon ungrudgingly. “Dod! I believe
you’re the best of the rotten bunch!”
“Go on, then: ‘Grafter, crook’——” prompted Baca.
“Why—er—really!” stammered Scanlon. Then he brightened. “‘There
has been so much said, and, on the whole, so well said,’” he
beamed, canting his head on one side with a flat, oily smile, “‘that I
will not further detain you.’”
He seated himself, with a toothy, self-satisfied expression; but the
allusion was lost on all except the delighted Baca.
In glum silence, Quinliven reached for a bottle and glared at the little
Irishman, who smiled evilly back at him.
“There is one more point,” observed Baca in his best courtroom
manner, “on which I touch with a certain delicacy and, as it were,
with hesitation. I am reluctant to grieve further a spirit already
distressed; but the fact is, gentlemen, our impulsive friend here”—he
laid a gentle hand on Bennett’s shoulder and Bennett squeaked
—“undertook yesterday to employ this man Jones—Neighbor Jones
—to murder our friend Drake. I take this most unkindly.”
He teetered on his tiptoes; he twirled his eyeglasses; his hand made
a pleasant jingle with key ring and coin; his face expressed a keen
sense of well-being and social benevolence.
“As a matter of abstract principle, even before we had learned to
love our young friend Drake, we decided that such a step was
unnecessary and inexpedient; and so informed Mr. Bennett. But the
idea of slaying Mr. Drake seems to have become an obsession with
Mr. Bennett—or, as English Ben would put it, a fad. As English Ben
would say, again, Mr. Bennett is a beastly blighter.”
He adjusted the eyeglasses and beamed round on his cowed and
sullen confederates, goaded, for his delight, to madness and
desperation; and on the one uncowed co-devil, the mordant and
cynical Scanlon.
“Our young Eastern friend has endeared himself to our hearts. I do
not exaggerate when I say that we feel quite an avuncular interest in
his fortunes. We are deeply hurt by Mr. Bennett’s persistence; but let
us not be severe. In this case retribution has been, as we might say,
automatic, for the man Jones, by some means, has acquired an
inkling of the posture in which our affairs lie in the little matter of the
Drake estate; though I believe he suspects only Bennett and myself.
Bennett, I judge, has talked too much. And—such is the wickedness
and perfidy of the human mind—the man Jones makes a shameless
demand on us for two thousand dollars, money current with the
merchant, as the price of silence. Alas, that such things can be!”
His hands, now deep in his trousers pockets, expressed a lively
abhorrence for the perfidy of the man Jones.
“This iniquitous demand is no better than blackmail and might be
resisted in our courts of justice; but, inasmuch as Mr. Bennett’s
sanguinary disposition has brought on us this fresh complication,
would it not be well to permit Mr. Bennett to pay this two thousand
from his private pocket? I pause for a reply.”
Bennett let out a screech between a howl and a shriek.
“This is infamous! You’re robbing me! Oh, why did I ever have
dealings with such desperadoes?”
“Why, indeed?” said Baca tranquilly. “I think, if you will permit me to
criticize, that was a mistake in judgment on your part, Mr. Bennett.
You have not the temperament for it.”
“He pays!” said Scanlon, gloating.
“He pays!” echoed the rancher.
“You’re robbing me!” Bennett crumpled to a wailing heap.
“We’re not, ye black scut!” snapped Scanlon, perking the unfortunate
banker upright by the collar. “But we will! We’re now holding to the
exact bargain we proposed and you agreed to; but if ever little
Mickey S. has need or desire av the red, red gold or the green,
green greenback, ’tis back here he will come to you. May Gawd have
mercy on your soul! Sit up, ye spineless jellyfish—sit up!”
Beck, sitting mute in a cold fury of hate, raised his eyes.
“This Neighbor Jones—I had a letter about him to-day. He’s caught
on, someway, that we’ve been workin’ him over in the shop; and he’s
layin’ for us, I guess. That big lump that called himself the Kansas
City Kid—’twas him that wrote the letter. Jones accused him of
cheating and drove him out of town—took his gun, made him leave
his clothes, and hike. That’s a dangerous man, Baca. Now I think of
it, young Drake quit us at the same time. Jones told him our game
was crooked, likely.”
“Them two was together all this forenoon—I seen ’em,” contributed
Quinliven. “Is Jones maybe fixing to give you the double cross?”
Baca considered with contracted brow.
“Possibly; but not necessarily so,” he said. “Drake agreed to sell last
night. Perhaps he merely got wise to himself—to use his own phrase
—and decided to sell out and go home while the going was good.
Jones would be his natural associate, the two having been bucking
the game together; but Jones expects to get clear of his debt by
sticking to me. He could gain nothing by telling Drake. We are too
powerful. He knows there is no way to make us disgorge—disgorge
is the word, I think, in this connection. I find Jones most amusing,
myself. If he wearies me——”
“Don’t you figure Jones for any easy mark,” warned Scanlon. “If he
tries to hand us something—look out! He is a bad actor.”
“Leave him to me,” said Baca with a tightening of the lips. “I’ll take
measures to improve his acting. Never mind Jones. We have now
satisfactorily adjusted the preliminaries, have we not? It is
established, I believe, that Mr. Scanlon and myself constitute a clear
majority of this meeting. Any objection? In that case, let us now get
down to the sad and sordid business before us. It is the sense of the
meeting, as I take it, that Mr. Bennett shall bring to this room, by ten
o’clock to-morrow—no; to-morrow is Sunday—by ten o’clock on
Monday, the purchase money for the Double Dee cattle.”
“Oh-h!” It was a mournful howl, a dog’s hopeless plaint to the moon;
emitted, however, by one of the gentlemen present.
“Objection overruled. You will, also, Mr. Bennett, provide twenty-four
thousand dollars to satisfy the other equities, here held in the Drake
estate.”
Scanlon held up a finger.
“Cash, you moind! No checks or drafts, to be headed off. Coin or
greenbacks! I will not be chipracked by this slippery ould man. He is
the human greased pig.”
By a prodigious effort Bennett pulled himself together; his face was
very pale.
“To provide that much cash, without warning, is impossible. I should
have nothing left to do the bank’s business with; in fact, I have not
half that amount of actual cash in the safe.”
He stood up and grasped the back of a chair—his knuckles were
white as he gripped; his voice grew firmer.
“I’ll be open with you, gentlemen. I am too much extended; I am
bitterly cramped for ready money. Give me time to turn round; don’t
force me to take this money out of the business now. Once let the
ordinary loans be refused to a few customers; let the rumor of it go
abroad; let my Eastern creditors once hear of it—and I must
inevitably stand a heavy loss. They will demand immediate payment,
and that I cannot make without sacrifice.”
“What would your creditors think if they knew what we know?”
answered Beck. “You’ll make your sacrifice right now, within forty-
eight hours, for your preferred creditors, here present.”
“Baca! I appeal to you. Help me! I’ll be honest. To pay out this sum
will not ruin me, but it’ll cripple me so that it may take me years to
recover. At the very best I shall lose far more than the pitiful remnant
of the Drake money you leave me. Give me time to turn round! Give
me thirty days!”
“Thirty hours,” said Beck; “Monday morning.”
“I tell you it will cost me two dollars for every one I pay over to you
now,” the banker pleaded. “Let me give you certificates of deposit.”
“That’s what you gave Drake!” said Scanlon.
For the first time in the somber silence that followed they heard the
loud clock on the mantel—tick, tock—tick, tock—tick, tock!
Baca spoke at last slowly and thoughtfully.
“Bennett, you have good standard securities in the El Paso National,
pledged for a comparatively small amount, as I happen to know. You
can sell them by wire and have the money here by the last train on
Monday. That’s what you’d better do. Personally I am not inclined
——”
“Here is too much talk,” said Scanlon. “Cash or smash!”
Bennett threw up his hand in a gesture of despair.
“I’ll get it on Monday. Let me go home.”
“There now! I knew you would do the right thing if we forced you to!”
Baca went to the window. “It is not raining hard; so perhaps you had
better go home, as you suggest, Mr. Bennett. You seem fatigued.
But the rest of you will stay with me for the night, I trust. I have good
beds; here is wine and fire; and we can have a quiet rubber. No
stakes, of course.” He twisted his mouth and cocked an eyebrow at
Beck.
“I’m gone!” announced Beck. He brushed by without a glance at the
others, jerked his hat and slicker from the rack, and flung out into the
night.
“Now who would suspect the urbane and lovable Beck of being so
sensitive?” asked Baca, rocking on his feet. “We shall not have our
whist game after all. You two will stay, however? Yes? That’s good!”
said the host. “Have a glass of wine before you go, Bennett. No? Let
me help you on with your raincoat, then. You have your rubbers?” He
held the door open. “Good-night!”
 Chapter VIII
BECK did not take his way to his own rooms despite the lateness of
the hour. He followed the street at his left, the one that led to
Bennett’s home. A little later the door opened and Bennett took the
same path at a slower gait.
A head projected itself cautiously above the adobe wall that fenced
the Baca garden, looked forth swiftly, and vanished. After a few
seconds the head appeared again, farther away, where a lilac
overhung the wall. Screened by this background the head, with the
body appertaining thereunto, heaved, scrambling over the wall, and
followed, with infinite caution, the way of the two transgressors,
keeping at a discreet distance behind the slower one.
It was quite dark, though a few pale stars glimmered through rushing
clouds; the rain was a mere drizzle. Head and appurtenant body—
the latter slickered and bulky—paused to listen. They heard plainly
the plup of Bennett’s feet before them, and sat resolutely down on
the sloppy stone walk. There was a swift unlacing of shoes, a
knotting of laces. Slinging the shoes about the neck between them,
they took up the pursuit, swift and noiseless, slinking in the deeper
shadows, darting across the open spaces, and ever creeping closer
and closer—a blacker darkness against the dark.

When Bennett had passed through Baca’s door, framed for an

instant, black against a glowing square of light, Beck had been
watching from far down the street. Assured that Bennett was coming,
he then walked on swiftly for two or three blocks. Where a long row
of cottonwoods made dark the way, he waited in the shadows. He
heard the slow steps of his approaching victim, noted their
feebleness, and waited impatiently until Bennett passed his tree.
The gambler pounced on him; he crushed his puffy hand over
Bennett’s mouth.
“It’s me, Beck! If you make a sound, damn you, I’ll kill you! Feel that
gun at the back of your neck?” He took his hand away. “What’s the
matter with you? You old fool, can’t you stand up? I won’t hurt you—
unless you try to talk. If you say just one word to me I’m going to kill
you. I mean it!” His speech was low and guarded. “I’ve heard enough
talk to-night to do me quite some time. That Scanlon and Baca—I’ll
show them how to ride me!”
He peered up and down the deserted street.
“Walk on, now! Here; take my arm, you poor old fool! Let’s go down
and inspect your bank!”
Bennett gave a heart-rending groan; his knees sagged, and he clung
limply to his captor’s arm.
“If it will make you feel any better,” said Beck with a little note of
comfort in his voice, “I’m going to rob my own safe next.”
This assurance did not have the desired effect. With many
exhortations, slowly, painfully, they negotiated the distance to the
Bennett headquarters in the old Almandares Block.
With a strong hand on his collar and the muzzle of a forty-four
pressed between his shoulder blades, the unfortunate banker
unlocked the door, threaded the long, crowded aisles in the pitch
dark, and came at last to his private office. At his captor’s command
he lighted a single gas jet near the safe; it made a wan and spectral
light in the doleful place; in the corners of the great room the
shadows crowded and trampled.
With his shriveled face contorted in dumb protest, with tears on his
ash-pale cheeks, the wretched man groped at the combination.
Strange thoughts must have passed through his mind as he knelt
there, delaying desperately, hoping for the impossible.
Vainly, with a fiendish face, Beck urged and threatened; still the
shaking fingers fumbled, without result. With a horrible snarl the
gambler clasped Bennett’s wrist, twisted it up and back to the