Читать книгу Big Sky Bride, Be Mine! - Victoria Pade - Страница 8

Sunday was unseasonably warm for early spring, and Ian decided to take advantage of it and go out to the Bowen property without the Realtor.

The farm wasn’t far from the Mackey and McKendrick compound where he was staying, where he’d stayed on all the occasions he’d come to Northbridge since his long lost brother and sister had contacted him at Christmas. In fact, the Bowen place was almost next door. But he wasn’t going from the compound to the farm.

He was headed out to the Bowen place from Northbridge proper after attending a church pancake breakfast with his brother Chase, Chase’s wife, Hadley, and seventeen-month-old Cody—the nephew who had reunited Ian, Chase and Shannon. The nephew Chase was raising.

Shannon and her soon-to-be husband, Dag McKendrick, had also been there, so the town event had turned into a family breakfast for Ian, which was part of why he liked coming to Northbridge now.

The family component was also part of why he’d chosen the small town as the site for the training center for the Montana Monarchs football team.

He’d known that Northbridge existed, that it was where he and Hutch had been born, where their birth parents had died, where he and Hutch had been adopted. But he and Hutch had been barely two months old when that adoption had occurred and they’d been taken away from Northbridge. Since they’d never returned, Northbridge had been nothing but a name on a map.

Then Ian had received an email from Chase and Shannon telling him that Hutch wasn’t his only sibling. He’d reconnected with the small town in the course of reconnecting with his brother and sister.

Not that it wasn’t the perfect place for the training center, because it was. It was far enough from Billings to reduce distractions, but close enough to make it easy for the players, the staff, the coaches and trainers and the press to get to. It also didn’t make for a bad drive for visits from families left behind in Billings.

And Ian liked the idea that, as Chief Operating Officer for the Monarchs, he would spend plenty of time in Northbridge where Chase, Shannon and Cody lived.

After a rift had healed between Ian and his adoptive father, they were once again close. He was also close to his adoptive sister Lacey. But he and his twin brother Hutch? That was a different story. They hadn’t seen each other or spoken in over five—almost six—years.

Maybe that was why developing closer relationships with his newfound blood relatives was all the more important to him, and it was important to him. Bringing the training center to Northbridge would aid that cause.

He had his father onboard with Northbridge, so that wasn’t a problem. And there were two possible sites within the Northbridge area—the Bowen farm and another, slightly larger location several miles farther out of town.

But of the two, the Bowen place was the most ideal. At seventeen acres it was a better size than its twenty-four acre contender which would leave excess acreage. It also lacked the large hill the McDoogal property had that would have to be leveled to accommodate playing fields. Plus, even if Jenna Bowen took him up on the extra ten thousand dollars he’d sweetened the pot with yesterday, the price on the Bowen place was still far better—it was priced low in hopes of a fast sale.

But Jenna Bowen was holding out, trying to keep the place a working farm, even in the face of an enormous debt in unpaid taxes. It was that enormous debt that had the property scheduled to be auctioned off in ten days if she couldn’t raise the money before then.

What that meant to the Kincaid Corporation was that they could get the property one way or another. If it went to auction, the Kincaid Corporation would likely end up getting it for a song, in fact. But buying the place at auction wasn’t really the image the Kincaid Corporation or the Monarchs wanted to foster. Even if it did save some money.

About half of Northbridge was against bringing the training camp to the small town, against losing farmland to it, and certainly against one of their own family farms being bulldozed by a corporation that, if they bought at auction, would ultimately end up seeming to be on the side of the IRS. That same half wanted to help the Bowens keep the property long enough to sell to someone who would honor their wishes for the land.

So ultimately, Ian had two factions to win over to his side—that half of the town. And Jenna Bowen.

He was up for it, though. He was even looking forward to it.

Convincing half of Northbridge that it was a good idea to bring the training center in would be a challenge, but that was okay. He liked challenges. And when he showed people that he did business with honesty, integrity and straightforwardness, when he pointed out the positives, he felt certain he’d be able to rally even the unenthusiastic portion of Northbridge.

But Jenna Bowen?

She was a different story. She obviously had an emotional involvement that would take more finesse, more personal attention to conquer—if it could be conquered at all. And to that end, he’d decided it was time they met. That had been the purpose of having the Realtor take him out to her farm yesterday, when he’d known that she would be there because he’d overheard Meg tell Logan that she and Jenna would be packing up the household.

That hadn’t been the first time he’d seen her, though.

When he stayed at the compound he used a small studio apartment above the detached garage behind the main house. From that vantage point, he’d had an occasional sighting of Jenna Bowen over the months when Meg had provided babysitting for Abby, and Jenna had come to drop off or pick up the baby.

No, they hadn’t had the opportunity to meet—that just hadn’t worked out until yesterday. But it had given him the chance to do some preliminary study of Meg’s best friend.

Jenna Bowen was a small-town beauty, he thought as he drove out of Northbridge to get to the farm and the picture of her popped into his head.

Actually, she could hold her own with most big-city beauties, too, he’d decided when he’d finally had his first close-up view of her at her house on Saturday.

No, she wasn’t high-fashion-model material, like Chelsea Tanner—the woman his father was itching for him to marry. But Jenna Bowen was definitely no slouch in the looks department.

Hers wasn’t an aloof, cutting-edge sort of beauty, the way Chelsea’s was. Instead there was a warmth, a sweetness to Jenna Bowen’s appearance. A naturalness. Something that had made it difficult for him to ultimately take his eyes off of …

She had skin like peaches and cream—flawless, smooth and so soft-looking he’d had the urge to reach out and run the backs of his fingers along one cheek to see if it could possibly feel the way it appeared.

Her hair was long and wavy, a glistening brown. In his isolated glimpses of her, he’d seen it pulled back, he’d seen it tied up, he’d seen it the way he liked it best—falling full and free around her face to at least four inches below her shoulders, like a shining, vibrant cascade of cocoa.

And her eyes …

Ah, her eyes …

Those distant sightings had kept him in the dark about her eyes but on yesterday’s visit to the farm he’d finally been able to see them for himself. To see her long, thick lashes dusting eyes that were a similar brown to her hair except that they weren’t completely brown.

No, her eyes had some green in them—a glimmering green, like secret, hidden emeralds—making them interesting, intriguing, stunning.

Her nose was thin and not terribly long. She had petal-pink lips, perfect white teeth and high, apple-bright cheeks that gave her some of that country appeal, too.

Her neck was long and a little thin, and she had such perfect posture that it made her fairly short stature—five three or four, maybe—seem like more.

And the body that went with it all?

Compact but still curvaceous enough to have had him wondering how she would look without clothes …

Not that he had any business doing that!

Work, the training facility, Chelsea Tanner and getting Tanner Brewery to sponsor the Monarchs—that was what he was supposed to be focused on now, he reminded himself as he neared the Bowen farm. Chelsea Tanner, whom his father would be thrilled to have him hook up with. Chelsea Tanner, whom his father believed would be a great match for him and for the future connection between the Montana Monarchs and Chelsea Tanner’s father’s brewery dollars.

The trouble was, Chelsea Tanner just didn’t do it for him. They’d met at the huge party his father had thrown when Morgan had been granted the NFL franchise. They’d hit it off. But merely as friends. The fact that it could be a match made in business heaven? That was all his father could see. But for Ian? A beautiful face, long legs and a shared interest in Jazz weren’t enough.

In his mind’s eye, the image of Jenna Bowen was edging out that of the supermodel….

But he was getting the shove from Chelsea’s father, too.

Chelsea’s father wanted Ian to lure Chelsea back from one of her many photo shoots in Europe in the hopes that she might be interested in becoming the spokesmodel for Tanner Brewery in order to add a little class. And to keep his daughter closer to home.

Ian was working on convincing Chelsea to come home and become the face of Tanner Brewery. But beyond that? Sharing their jazz playlists was the only other thing he was interested in. The only thing Chelsea was interested in with him, too.

Ian turned off the main road onto the path that led to the Bowen property’s boundary.

Hardly a road, it was pitted and bumpy. It was difficult to decide which of the tractor-tire ruts he should stick to. It was definitely more rustic than the paved drive, with its white rail fence on either side, that led to the house. But he wanted a view of the place from one of its edges so he could look out over the whole seventeen acres and get a clear picture in his mind about the best layout for the center. So, the dirt road it was.

He didn’t go any farther than he had to, however, before he pulled to a stop.

Then, with the engine still running, he put the car into park, grabbed the binoculars he’d brought with him for this purpose and got out.

No doubt about it—this was the perfect location for the training facility, he thought, as he looked out over the property through the binoculars. Flat farmland, wide, open space except for the small barn and the house that would be leveled in favor of the administrative building that would be the entrance to the center.

But when Jenna emerged from the back door carrying baby Abby, it was the existing house that held his interest.

Ian had the impression that Jenna was taking advantage of the weather, too. She didn’t seem to have any real reason to be outside, and she was clearly dressed for work, since she was wearing dark purple scrubs. But still, she carried Abby into the yard and pointed to a bird sitting on a post of the paddock fence as she said something to the infant.

Abby was a sweet baby. And as cute as they came, with her honey-blond, curly cap of hair, her chubby cheeks and her big, brown eyes.

And Jenna was her aunt-slash-new-mom….

Ian recalled how Meg had introduced her friend, and it didn’t make sense to him. He had just assumed that Abby was Jenna’s daughter, plain and simple. But that didn’t seem to be the case. As he watched the two now, he didn’t see anything that would indicate that Jenna wasn’t Abby’s mother, however.

Abby was yet another reason he needed not to go off on flights of fancy over Jenna Bowen. He liked Abby, but he was at least ten years from wanting kids in his own life. And when that happened, they had to be his biological kids.

That was his sticking point.

Just as he was thinking that—and still watching Jenna and Abby through the binoculars—he saw Jenna lightly kiss Abby’s cheek.

Then, as if the gesture hadn’t been done right, Abby grabbed both sides of Jenna’s face in her two pudgy little hands and gave her a return kiss that had a whole lot more oomph to it.

The scene made Ian laugh at the same time Jenna did, just before she twirled around with the infant, making Abby laugh along with her.

And out of the blue—for absolutely no reason Ian could put his finger on—he felt like he should drive over there and say hello.

That was a little strange—the sudden yen to be a part of what he was spying on.

Of course, it was a great day in the country, he did get a kick out of Abby, and Jenna was a naturally beautiful, fresh-faced woman whom he’d enjoyed talking to for that brief time yesterday. So maybe it wasn’t really such a big mystery that he felt like saying hello.

Well, the mystery might be in the intensity he was feeling to get to them, but still he reasoned that he did need to be establishing a relationship with Jenna Bowen. So why not take advantage of the day, the situation, the coincidence and the convenience of having her right there, no more than a two-minute drive around a U-shaped dirt path?

He’d be silly not to take advantage of all that and lay some groundwork for a purely friendly relationship with her that could potentially benefit them both, wouldn’t he?

Sure he would.

Now he just needed to take his eyes off of her to do that….

He forced himself to lower the binoculars, to get back in the car, feeling oddly grateful that the engine was still running, and that all he had to do was put it into gear.

And if he was in such a hurry to get to her that he left huge plumes of dust behind him when he hit the gas?

It didn’t mean anything.

And neither did his lack of concern for how bumpy a ride it was on that road or what it was doing to his shocks not to take any care with how he drove.

He was merely going to extend a simple greeting to the farm owner he would like to convince to do business with him.

And the fact that the farm owner was the lovely-to-look-at Jenna Bowen meant nothing at all …

As Montana winters went weather-wise, Jenna’s first one back hadn’t been particularly bad. But since she’d lost both of her parents during that period of time, it had felt very bleak. So that first, early taste of spring on Sunday was a welcome relief.

She had to be at the hospital for a three-to-eleven shift but—not wanting to waste the warmth and sunshine—she’d decided to take Abby outside for a little while.

She hadn’t been out the back door for more than a few minutes when the sudden stirring of dust over on the border road drew her attention.

“Looks like we’re gonna have company,” she told Abby, inching back in the direction of the house.

During the last ten years, she’d lived in several places where being cautious was advisable, and while she might be back in Northbridge, she still didn’t recognize the expensive black import that was coming her way. Just in case her drop-in visitor wasn’t welcome, she wanted the ability to duck inside in a hurry.

In fact, she was standing so that she and Abby were in the lee of the screen door, where one step would take them over the threshold to safety, when the car drew near enough for her to see that it was Ian Kincaid behind the wheel.

Of course … Jenna thought as a completely inexplicable sense of excitement replaced her trepidation.

He drove around the side of the house before he came to a stop. Jenna heard him turn off the engine and get out, shutting the door after himself.

Then he appeared around the corner.

“Hi,” he called, tossing her a smile that she liked more than she had any reason to.

“Hello,” Jenna said, keeping it somewhat formal, despite her reactions to the man. Or maybe to hide those reactions….

“It was such a nice day I wanted to come out and look around a little more.” He pointed in the direction he’d come from. “I was on that other road when I saw you. I thought maybe I should drop over and make sure you don’t mind. If you do, I’ll take off.” He finished with a gesture of surrender that raised his hands to the height of his extremely broad shoulders.

His big, strong-looking hands that Jenna couldn’t help noticing right along with the shoulders. He wore brown tweed slacks and a tan shirt that made him look too dressed up for a lazy, Sunday afternoon in Northbridge, but impressively good nonetheless.

“Un!” Abby said then, bending far away from Jenna and putting her arms out to Ian as he drew near.

“Hi, Abby,” he said to the infant with an even warmer smile. Then to Jenna he added, “That’s what she calls me—’Un.’ Abby and I are old friends.”

“So Meg said.”

“Can I take her?” he asked.

Since Abby wasn’t giving her much choice, and Jenna knew that Meg had come to trust him around both Abby and Tia, Jenna abandoned the doorway and handed over the infant.

Abby promptly curved one arm around the back of Ian’s muscular neck as if she belonged there and was staking her claim on him.

“Meg told me you’ve made quite an impression on both Abby and Tia,” Jenna said.

“I’d like to say all the girls love me, but I’m pretty sure you could refute that, so I won’t,” he joked.

He did seem like kind of a hard person to dislike, but Jenna kept that to herself. Instead she said, “It’s been a rotten winter for me, and I have spring fever something fierce today so, even though it’s a little early for it, I made fresh lemonade. Would you like a glass?”

“Sounds great. But why don’t we sit on your porch to drink it so you can still get some of this nice weather? I’ll take Abby around to the front, and you can meet us there.”

Was he thoughtful or good at orchestrating things or giving orders? Jenna wasn’t sure. But the idea of a glass of lemonade on the front porch—okay, yes, with him—was too appealing for her to balk at, one way or another, so she said, “Okay.”

As she went inside, put ice in two tall glasses and poured their drinks, Jenna hoped that Ian Kincaid wasn’t there to try to talk her into selling the farm to him. It was such a nice day, she wanted to enjoy it, and that was a subject that would ruin it.

Maybe, if he did bring it up, a firm no coupled with an “I don’t want to talk about it,” would stop him.

If not, she might take Abby and her lemonade and just go inside, because she was not going to let him put a damper on today.

As Jenna carried the glasses down the hallway to the front door she’d opened earlier to let in some fresh air, she could see Abby and Ian Kincaid through the screen. It gave her a clue as to one of the reasons Abby liked him. He was sitting on the porch floor at the top of the stairs. The little girl straddled his ankle while he held both of her hands and bounced her up and down with the rise and fall of that long leg.

Jenna knew from doing that herself that Abby adored what Jenna called a horsey-ride, and the baby’s giggling delight only confirmed it.

“Mo!” Abby demanded when Ian paused to glance over his shoulder at the sound of Jenna coming out onto the porch.

“That’s Abby-speak for more,” Jenna informed him. “And the problem with horsey-ride is that she never wants you to stop.”

“Yeah, I’ve learned that,” he said. Then, to Abby he called an enthusiastic, “Here comes the big finish!”

As Jenna crossed the wide wrap-around porch to join them, Ian gave Abby a wild enough ride to make the infant squeal before he slowed by increments and made winding-down noises.

To Jenna’s surprise, when he finally stopped altogether and hoisted Abby to his lap, the little girl accepted it without further complaint.

“So that’s the secret?” Jenna observed. “I have to say ‘here comes the big finish,’ give her a grand finale and some sound effects, and she lets it end?”

“That’s my trick. I don’t know if it’ll work for you,” he said, settling Abby in the crook of one arm so he could take the glass of lemonade that Jenna offered.

Once he had, she sat beside him, making sure she left all the space that could be left between them in what was allotted by the porch railing.

She set her own glass of lemonade down and held out her arms to Abby. “Why don’t you come and sit with me now and have some lemonade?”

“No,” Abby answered, pushing back into the arm that provided a sturdy support for her back.

“Oh, she does like you,” Jenna said, showing a hint of the rejection she felt.

Ian merely grinned and sipped his lemonade. Letting the comment pass, he said, “As Montana winters go, this last one was pretty mild. Why was it rotten for you?”

He’d paid attention to what she’d said earlier….

“I came back to Northbridge in October when my mother died suddenly of a heart attack during a blizzard. That trip was when I first realized my dad’s emphysema was much, much worse than I’d been told. I decided to stay to take care of him, but we still lost him the first week of January. Which was about the time I also found out about the tax debt—”

“Ah, it wasn’t so much the weather as what happened this winter. And that was a lot,” he agreed. “I didn’t know you’d lost your mother right before your father. I lost my mother when I was eleven and that was bad enough. Losing both of your parents within months of each other must have been doubly rough.”

Made rougher by the guilt she carried, but she didn’t offer that information. “It was.”

“You said you came back when your mom passed away?” he said then. “Does that mean that you weren’t living in Northbridge?”

“Not at the time, no. I wanted to be, but that hadn’t worked out yet. It sort of had to in a hurry after I saw that my dad was failing. Plus there was Abby …”

Abby, whom she didn’t really want to share, so Jenna again held out her hands to the baby.

Who once more chose to remain with Ian.

Abby did take the drink of Jenna’s lemonade that Jenna offered, though.

“Tell me about Miss Abby here,” Ian said then. “Meg introduced you as her aunt-slash-new-mom—what exactly does that mean?”

“She’s my niece and now my adopted daughter, too,” Jenna answered as if it were simple.

“So you have a brother or a sister?” he said, sorting through it.

“I did have a sister. We called her J.J. She was twelve years younger than me, and only sixteen when she got pregnant and had Abby—”

“Oh,” Ian said, as if that explanation left him with more questions.

Anticipating them, Jenna said, “My folks talked J.J. into keeping Abby by promising to help raise her—”

“The dad wasn’t in the picture?”

“The dad was one of the boys at the school for troubled and delinquent kids just outside of town. Unfortunately, he was still in the picture, but since he had no family at all, it was still really up to Mom and Dad—”

“And sixteen-year-old J.J.”

“Right. Until J.J. and Abby’s dad went joyriding when Abby was four months old …” Jenna swallowed back the lump that instantly formed in her throat. “Both J.J. and Abby’s dad were killed when the car hit a pothole and rolled over. Then it was just up to Mom and Dad.”

“Who weren’t in good health,” Ian added.

“At the time no one knew my mom had anything going on with her heart—no one knew until the attack that killed her. My dad’s emphysema was slowing him down then, but he was still working the farm, so they didn’t really think their health was an issue. I talked about taking Abby, but my own situation was … difficult, so Mom and Dad just kept the status quo—they’d been doing the lion’s share of taking care of Abby, they said they could just go on taking care of her.”

“But then in a snap they were both gone….”

“Right. And then there was just Abby and me. And my situation had changed—” Jenna leaned forward enough to tickle Abby’s rib cage “—and I wanted this little stinker, so I adopted her.”

“Which makes you her aunt and her mom now.”

“Right,” Jenna said in a positive tone to let him know how happy she was to find herself Abby’s mother. “Of course, I’ll let her know about J.J. and her dad, but I’ll really just be Mom—which I’m working on getting her to call me.”

As if to show her willingness to accept Jenna in that role, Abby finally held out her arms for Jenna to take her.

Ian set his nearly empty glass of lemonade on the porch and freed the way for Jenna to reach for the infant.

To do that, Jenna had to slip one of her hands between Abby’s side and Ian’s front. There was no avoiding making contact with him.

What Jenna should have been able to avoid was being as aware as she was of the hard wall of muscles she felt behind his shirt. And liking the way it felt against the back of her hand …

You’re a nurse, for crying out loud! You make physical contact with people for a living! she silently chastised herself to battle the tingling that that particular contact had set off along the surface of her skin.

Gratefully, Ian Kincaid didn’t seem to know she was having that response to him as she lifted Abby from his lap to Jenna’s and became very intent on giving her niece more lemonade.

“I should probably go—I saw what I came to see and I’m figuring from the scrubs that you must have to get to work at some point,” Ian said then—in a voice that seemed slightly lower than it had been and suddenly made Jenna worry that he did know something was happening with her.

But even if that was true, he, too, found refuge in Abby by fiddling with one of her curls when he said, “Bye, Abby.”

“Bye,” Abby answered perfunctorily, waving a chubby hand to go along with it, the way she’d been tutored.

Then, to Jenna, Ian said, “Thanks for the lemonade. This was nice.”

“Sure,” was all she said as she watched him get to his feet.

He paused a moment, and she couldn’t tell what was going through his mind before he said, “Tomorrow night is the grand opening of Mackey and McKendrick Furniture Designs—will you be there?”

“I will be,” she said.

A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “Good … I’m glad….” He answered almost as if he shouldn’t be admitting it.

Then he headed for his car, and Jenna watched him go.

And watched him and watched him, drinking in every last drop of the sight of the best derriere she thought she’d ever seen.

Until he rounded the side of the house, and she couldn’t see him anymore.

And she was a little sorry about that …

So apparently, he hadn’t put a damper on her day.

But as for the rest—the skin-tingling on contact, the ogling of his backside when he’d walked away, the fact that she’d enjoyed spending that brief time with him?

She didn’t know where any of that had come from.

But she did know that there was no place in her life for it.

Not now. Not with him.

In the last eleven months, she’d gone from one disaster to another. The death of J.J. and of Abby’s dad. Her own divorce. Her mother’s death. Her father’s. The tax debacle and the likelihood that she was going to lose the farm. She’d gone from chaos to more chaos to even more chaos.

And it had to end. For both her own sake and for Abby’s. They needed to find a little solace, a little calm, a little peace. To settle down, to settle in. Together. Just the two of them.

Nowhere in any of that was there a place for skin-tingling or ogling or enjoying Ian Kincaid’s company.

In fact, a man—any man—but certainly Ian Kincaid of all men, was the anti-solace, the anti-calm, the anti-peace, the anti-settling down, the anti-settling in.

And Jenna wasn’t having any part of that.

So why was she suddenly looking forward to tomorrow night’s grand opening of Mackey and McKendrick Furniture Designs even more than she had been?

It didn’t matter why.

She just knew she needed to squash it.

And that was what she was determined to do.

Although that little bit of a thrill at the thought that Ian Kincaid would be there was hard to catch and squash when it again took flight at merely the glimpse of him behind the wheel of his car as he drove from the side of her house and waved on his way to the main road.

But still she was determined.

Peace and calm and solace, settling in, settling down—that was what she was going to find, to achieve, for herself and for Abby.

Without the disruption of a guy who made her skin tingle …