Christyne Butler - The Last-Chance Maverick

It took him a moment, but then Jonah smiled. “Yeah, we just about had them out of there, convinced the place was haunted, until Derek tried to steal their beer. That was a heck of a fight.”

“Only because that one guy had a can of spray paint aimed at one of the walls. You took him out with a flying karate leap and the fists started flying.”

It’d been him, his two brothers and three cousins—the Dalton gang as they’d been known back then—against the entire offensive line from the nearby high school, but they’d won. At least until word got back to the town sheriff and their folks. “I never shoveled so much horse manure in my life as we did that fall.”

“Anyway, I figured a rich and famous architect would have plenty—”

“I’m not famous.” Jonah cut off his brother and sat back in the tall stool, the heel of his steel-toed cowboy boot caught on the bottom rung. “Or rich.”

Eli toasted him with his now empty bottle. “You better be tonight. You’re buying and I could use another beer.”

Jonah watched his brother turn away and attempt to flag down a waitress. He never confirmed Eli’s suspicions, but the man was right. When Nate had contacted him about his plans for the forgotten log mansion and he’d found out about the investor team Nate was putting together, Jonah had insisted on buying in, easily parting with a healthy chunk of his savings.

Still, would he have voted along with the majority for the mural?

Probably, since after talking with Nate and finally reading the email, he liked the idea and what the painting would represent, even though it meant added work for the interior-design team when it came to including the painting in the overall plan. It seemed this Vanessa Brent was a pretty famous artist from back east. He hadn’t had a chance to do any research on her yet, but obviously she, and her work, had made an impression on Nate.

Just the sight of her had done something to Jonah that hadn’t happened in a long time.

Made him curious.

What was she was doing in Rust Creek Falls? Was she here as part of the influx of females influenced by an online blog about life in the Wild West his mother and sisters had talked about at dinner? According to his dad and brothers there’d also been a fair amount of single men and families who’d come to town as well over the past year, thanks to jobs created by both the recovery work from last summer’s flooding and more recently, the resort. They’d even hired on a few new hands at the ranch, putting the bunkhouse to use again for the first time in a long time.

Along with his cabin.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Vanessa might have done to the empty slate he’d left behind after she’d moved in. Were the few pieces of furniture he’d put in still there? Including the bed he’d handcrafted and now refused to picture her sleeping in?

And that flash of anger in her golden-brown eyes when he’d shot down the idea of a mural... Why had it changed to relief just before she’d walked out?

Stifling a yawn, Jonah drained his beer and chalked up his interest in Nate’s artist to his being dead tired.

Coming to the bar his first full day back in town hadn’t been part of his plan for tonight. A quick meal and then crashing headfirst into a soft bed had been more of what he had in mind, but the talk at dinner had quickly turned from the town’s population boom to him. His job, his travels and after one too many questions from his mother about his personal life, Jonah had willingly agreed to Eli’s idea they’d grab a beer or two to celebrate his homecoming.

Two more beers arrived and Jonah swore this would be his last as he twisted off the cap. It was then he heard a familiar laugh from a nearby table. He turned and looked at the group of men playing a lively game of poker, recognizing one of them right away. “Didn’t Derek rush through dinner because he had a big project to do in the barn?”

“Yeah, so?”

Gesturing toward the table, Jonah saw Eli’s gaze shift until it landed on their younger brother who sat with his back to them.

“Guess he finished early,” Eli said. “Or else he got tired of listening to mom’s excited chatter about your many accomplishments.”

Jonah’s face heated. “I was getting tired of that, too.”

“Hey, she’s proud of you. Dad, too. You’re the first one of us kids to make it big with your fancy Denver penthouse, traveling the world designing everything from skyscrapers to celebrities’ homes, not to mention dating a famous ballerina.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Mom cut out a picture of you two attending a charity event—nice tux, by the way—from some magazine. She had it hanging on the refrigerator for months until we all got so sick of seeing it she finally moved it to her sewing room.”

He groaned. “Please tell me you’re screwing with me.”

Eli grinned. “She was hoping you’d bring the lady home for a visit.”

Not likely. He’d returned from a business trip and walked in on her entertaining a fellow dancer—a ballerina—in her apartment. Hey, he was all for a person being true to themselves, but he wasn’t going to be her stand-in. Especially after the way she’d hinted about the two of them getting married. “I haven’t dated Nadia in a year. That was over before I left for Brazil.”

“Whatever happened to that sexy architect from your office I met when I visited a few years back? Before Nadia?”

Yeah, getting involved with a coworker he’d collaborated with on a couple of projects, moving their relationship from the office to the bedroom had been a mistake, too. He didn’t realize that until she decided to move up in the world and left him to marry a partner in a rival company, when he made it clear that he and marriage were not a good fit. Not anymore. “I wasn’t rich or famous enough for her.”

“Well, I guess mom’s just getting antsy for one of us to finally settle down,” Eli said. “Again. You’re the only one who’s tried the marriage bit. As much as she and dad were against you becoming a husband while still in your teens, I think she’s ready now for some grandchildren to spoil.”

This time the memory flashed in Jonah’s head before he could brace himself.

The pregnancy test found in the trash. His joy at becoming a father after what he’d thought had been four years of wedded bliss. Lisette’s stunned silence. His mistake in thinking her reaction was because he’d ruined the surprise.

Yeah, she surprised him all right—

“Hey, you okay?” Eli clicked the bottom edge of his bottle against Jonah’s, pulling him from the past. “You grip that beer any tighter and it’s going to shatter in your hand.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” He must be. He hadn’t thought about that night in a long time. It was almost like it’d all happened to someone else. Someone he used to be. He forced his fingers to relax. “It’s been a long few days. Months, actually.”

“Well, you’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight. Back in your childhood bedroom.”

Same room, but thankfully the furniture had been updated. There was no way he’d be comfortable in a twin-size bed. “Very funny.”

“So, I’m guessing you decided not to kick Vanessa out?”

After the way her eyes lit up and hearing the excitement in her voice as she described the cabin, Jonah knew he couldn’t ask her to leave. It wasn’t her fault he’d come back assuming the place would still be empty. “The subject never came up, but no, I don’t plan to ask her to move.”

“She got to you, huh?”

“What’s her story?” Jonah avoided his brother’s question with one of his own. “What do you know about her?”

“Not much.” Eli shrugged. “I hadn’t met her until Mom had her over for dinner one night back in August and announced she was renting your cabin. I didn’t even know she was an artist until you mentioned it. She’s nice, always with a smile on her face and rarely at a loss for company, from what I’ve heard. But hey, my days usually run twelve to fourteen hours taking care of the ranch. I don’t have time for much else, which should show my brotherly love in saving your butt tonight by coming here. Why are you asking?”