DONNA ALWARD - A Cadence Creek Christmas

And if she were being honest with herself, it was a relief to get out of Vancouver for a while and deal with “real” people. It had been exhausting lately. Most of her clients were rich and used to getting exactly what they wanted exactly when they wanted it. Their sense of entitlement could be a bit much. Not to mention the unorthodox requests. She sometimes wondered what sort of reality these people lived in.

As she looked after the ordering details, one of the alterations staff did measurements. Another half hour and they were all done and standing out in the sunshine again. Taylor pulled out her phone and scanned her to-do list for today. She had to drive back to Cadence Creek and meet with Melissa Stone, the florist at Foothills Floral. The final order was going to be placed today—after all, the wedding was less than two weeks away now. All this should have been done a month ago or even more, but Taylor knew there were ways to get things done in a hurry if needs be. Like with the tuxes and invitations. Both should have been tended to months ago but it had merely taken a few phone calls and it had all been sorted. A little out of Callum’s budget, perhaps, but he didn’t need to know that. She was good for it. Exclusive!—her event planning business—had treated her well the past few years.

Still, there was no time to waste. She closed her calendar and looked up.

The group of them were standing around chatting, something about a lodge north of town and what had happened to the rancher who’d owned it. Jack was listening intently, but Rhys was missing. Had he left already?

The bell on the door chimed behind her, and she turned to see Rhys walking through. He looked far more himself now in black jeans and a black, tan and red plaid shirt beneath a sheepskin jacket. His boots were brown and weathered and as he stepped on to the sidewalk he dipped his head just a little and placed a well-worn hat on top. Taylor half smiled. The hat looked like an old friend; shaped precisely to his head, worn-in and comfortable.

“Feel better?” she asked, smiling.

“I’m not much for dressing up,” he replied simply.

“I know. None of you are, really. But it’s only for one day. You’re all going to look very handsome.”

“Is that so?”

Her cheeks heated a little. Rhys’s best feature was his eyes. And he was tall and well-built, just the way she liked her men. Perhaps it was growing up the way she had. They’d all been outdoor kids. Heck, Callum had joined the military and Jack had been a pro downhill skier until he’d blown his knee out at Val d’Isère.

But Rhys wasn’t classically handsome. Not in the way that Tyson Diamond was, for instance. In this group Rhys would be the one who would probably be overlooked. His cheekbones were high and defined and his jawbone unrelenting, giving him a rough appearance. His lips looked well-shaped but it was hard to tell—the closest she’d seen him come to smiling was the clandestine chuckle while they were inside.

But it was the way he’d answered that piqued her interest. Is that so? he’d asked, as if he couldn’t care one way or the other if anyone thought him handsome or not.

It was quite refreshing.

“I should get going,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’ve got to be back to town in thirty minutes for another appointment. Thanks for coming out. It’ll be easy for you from here on in. Weddings do tend to be mostly women’s business.” At least with these sorts of men...

“Drive carefully then,” he said, tipping his hat. “No sense rushing. The creek isn’t going anywhere.”

“Thanks, but I’d like to be on time just the same.” She gave him a brief nod and turned to the assembled group. “I’ve got to go. Thanks everyone.” She put her hand on Callum’s shoulder and went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “See you soon.” She did the same for Jack. “When are you flying out?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to hang around for a few days. I’ve got to be back in Montana for meetings on Monday, though, and then I’m flying in the Thursday before the wedding.”

“Let’s have lunch before you go back.”

“You got it. Text me.”

With a quick wave Taylor hurried across the parking lot, her heeled boots echoing on the pavement. She turned the car heater on high and rubbed her hands together—December in Alberta was colder than on the coast and she felt chilled to the bone all the time.

She was down to twenty-five minutes. As a light snow began to fall, she put her rental car in gear and pulled out, checking her GPS for the quickest route to the highway.

Three weeks. That was how long she had to decompress. She’d take care of Callum’s wedding and then enjoy one indulgent week of vacation before heading home and working on the final preparations for New Year’s. This year’s planning involved taking over an entire warehouse and transforming it into an under the sea kingdom.

It all seemed quite ridiculous. And because it did, she knew that it was time she took a vacation. Even one as short as a week in some small, backwater Alberta town. Thank goodness her assistant, Alicia, was completely capable and could handle things in Taylor’s absence.

She turned on the wipers and sighed. Compared to the crazy demands of her normal events, she knew she could do this wedding with her eyes closed.

If that were true, though, why was she having so much fun and dreading going back to Vancouver so very much?

* * *

It was already dark when Taylor whipped out her phone, brought up her to-do list and started punching in brief notes with her thumbs. Her fingers were numb with cold and she’d been out of the flower shop for a whole minute and a half. Where on earth was the frigid air coming from anyway? Shivering and walking toward the town’s B&B, she hurriedly typed in one last detail she didn’t want to forget. Instead of typing the word “cedar,” however, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder as she bounced off something very big and hard.

“Hey,” she growled. “Watch where you’re going!”

She looked up to find Rhys Bullock staring down at her, a scowl marking his angular face.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, letting out a puff of annoyance.

He knelt down and retrieved her phone, stood up and handed it over. “Hope it didn’t break,” he said. His tone suggested that he wasn’t quite sincere in that sentiment.

“The rubber cover is supposed to protect it. It’ll be fine.”

“Maybe next time you should watch where you’re going. Stop and sit down before you start typing.”

“It’s too damn cold to stop,” she grumbled.

He laughed then, the expulsion of breath forming a white cloud around his head. “Not used to an arctic front? This isn’t cold. Wait until it’s minus forty.”

“Not a chance.”

“That’s right. You’re only here for the wedding.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get out of the cold before my fingertips fall off.” She tried to ignore how his face changed when he laughed, softening the severe lines. A smattering of tiny marks added character to his tanned skin. If she had to come up with one word to describe Rhys, it would be weathered. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

He took a step closer and to her surprise reached into her pocket and took out her gloves. Then he took the phone from her hands, dropped it in the pocket and handed over the gloves. “This will help.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That was presumptuous of you.”

He shrugged. “Ms. Shepard, I’m pretty much used to keeping things simple and doing what has to be done. If your fingers are cold, put on your gloves.”

She shoved her fingers into the fuzzy warmth, her temper simmering. He spoke to her as if she were a child!