His Montana Homecoming. Jenna Mindel
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a word. He was probably shell-shocked.
Taking each step of the wide staircase, Faith was aware of every movement made with Dale behind her. What was he thinking? Wait, she didn’t want to know. Men like him thought women were trophies or belt-buckle notches.
Not this woman. Faith rubbed her hands, made rough from ranch chores, her fingertips callused from her violin. She was smarter now.
She glanced back at the man who’d be underfoot for at least a week. He’d be around long enough for the homecoming celebration this weekend and the Thanksgiving parade the following week. “Will your family join you?”
A muscle rippled along Dale’s jaw. “No.”
“Oh.” Faith kept moving. They were worlds apart. She couldn’t imagine a holiday without family. Maybe she was as naive as ever to think family mattered to everyone.
Cord had told her that Dale was the head of an international real estate services company, built strong by the Massey family. No doubt Dale had been surrounded by important people all his life. She peeked back at him. Right now, he looked terribly alone.
* * *
Dale heard the knock at the door but didn’t dare move. He had a good spot by the window with a view of the mountains. “It’s open.”
He’d left the door to his spacious guest room ajar, and Faith slipped inside.
He held up his hand. He’d be with her in a moment. “No, no, no. If they wait on this one, it’ll be gone.” Then nothing. Silence. “Dad? You there?”
Dale lowered his phone with a growl. “What is it with your cell service? That’s the fourth time my call’s been dropped.”
Faith shrugged her pretty shoulders as if it wasn’t a big deal. “We’ve always had bad coverage here, but we have a landline you can use.”
Dale clenched his jaw. He couldn’t conduct sensitive business in someone’s living room. “Thanks, I’ll see how I fare with my laptop.”
“Got a piece of paper?”
He handed her his legal pad.
“Here’s the password for our internet connection. It’s probably slower than what you’re used to.”
Where was he, the edge of the planet?
He stared at her.
She kept talking, completely unfazed. “If you need privacy, you can use my father’s office. It’s right before the dining room. Just close the door. He won’t mind.”
“Thank you.” He waited a moment for her to keep chattering.
She didn’t. She stared at him, her eyes wide.
“Did you need something?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks colored. “Dinner’s ready.”
She’d changed her clothes. She still wore jeans, but her top was soft and pretty. A gray fuzzy sweater that made her blue eyes glacial. Icy-blue.
He looked down at his rumpled white shirt, which was unbuttoned. He’d been in the process of changing before he’d gotten a call on his cell. No time to shower, but he could wash up and throw on clean clothes. “I’ll be a minute.”
Her cheeks blazed and she looked anywhere but at him. She backed up and bumped into a chair. “Of course.”
He cocked his head, and then it dawned on him that she was embarrassed by his open shirt. His chest wasn’t bare; he wore an undershirt. Sure, it fit like a second skin, and maybe that’s what had flustered Miss Shaw.
He felt the corners of his mouth twitch.
“You can’t miss our dining room. Just follow the noise.” She gave him a shy smile and bolted.
Dale stared at the door a moment. Was she for real? Then his phone buzzed and vibrated. “Dale Massey...”
Nothing.
Gritting his teeth, he tossed the phone on the bed and headed for the bathroom to wash up before dinner.
Seriously. Where on earth was he? And how soon could he get done what he came here to do and return to the real world?
Minutes later, Dale followed the noise. Sounds of raucous laughter were hard to miss. He halted at the entrance of the dining room and took in the sight of a long wooden table filled with covered dishes leaking steam. A boisterous family sat at the table. All of them talked at once as they passed pitchers of what looked like pretty tame liquid refreshment. Iced tea and lemonade.
Definitely a rowdier bunch than at the Massey dinner table. But then, the Masseys had never been a real family.
A sudden desire for the overcrowded Fidler Inn swamped him. There, he could have come and gone unnoticed. Downtown Jasper Gulch probably had Wi-Fi, too.
“Dale, there’s a seat for you next to Faith.” Nadine Shaw smiled. She wasn’t obvious. Not at all. “And this is my husband, Mayor Jackson Shaw.”
The mayor.
Dale stepped forward and extended his hand. “Mayor Shaw.”
The man puffed up his chest as he stood. Brown hair grayed near his temples and held a crease that circled the mayor’s head. Dale spotted a black cowboy hat hanging beside others on a hat rack attached to the far wall. No doubt the reason for the crease. Above average height, Jackson Shaw had broad shoulders and he exuded an air of authority. He was also looking Dale over pretty good.
Dale resisted the urge to ask if he liked what he saw.
Finally the mayor gripped his hand for a firm handshake. “Mr. Massey. Good of you to join us.”
Dale detected a note of sarcasm in the mayor’s voice and swallowed his irritation. He had a life, one he’d dropped in order to be here. “Thank you.”
“Let me introduce you to my family. You’ve met Faith here.” Jackson made the rounds.
There was Cord Shaw and his new wife, Katie, and their goddaughter, Marci, whom they were planning to adopt. Cord’s brothers, Austin and Adam, and then the youngest sibling, Julie, and her husband, Ryan. Dale sat down, knowing he’d have trouble remembering the names. Didn’t matter. He’d stay through the weekend and leave. He’d be here only a few days at most.
“Let’s pray, shall we?” The mayor cleared his throat and shifted his stance as he took the hands of his wife and youngest daughter seated on either side of him.
Everyone else followed suit. Faith offered up her hand and so did her brother—Austin, was it?
Okay, this is weird. He took Faith’s hand easily enough, but then Dale hesitated.
Faith’s brother gave him a challenging look.
When in Rome...
Dale finally took the guy’s work-roughened hand. He’d followed any number of odd customs in his travels not willing to offend a potential client or buyer. It didn’t mean he’d have to like it, even if only a dinnertime prayer.
The mayor made a grand show of blessing the food. He had politician written all over him. Smooth and polished. Funny, no matter what size the pond, big fish were always going to act like big fish.
Dale’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since lunch, a light meal served in the corporate limo on the way to the airport.
He felt a slight squeeze from Faith.
He glanced her way.
She looked as if she held back laughter. No doubt she’d heard his belly growl.
After the mayor’s prayer,