Rust Creek Falls Cinderella
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Knox’s face: priceless. A combination of Oh crud and Now what the hell am I gonna do?
“What’s so terrible about you going on a date?” Maximilian Crawford had said so innocently. “Some dinner, a glass of wine. Maybe a kiss if you like each other.” The famous smile slid into place.
Knox had been fuming. “I always meant to politely cancel. I’ve been working so hard on the fence line the last couple days that I totally forgot about calling Viv to say forget it.”
“Guess you’re going then,” Max had said with too much confidence.
Knox had shaken his head. “Every single woman in town is after us. Who wouldn’t want to marry into a family with a patriarch who has a million dollars to throw around? No thanks.”
“Well, it is a numbers game,” their dad had said.
Knox had been exasperated. “I don’t want to hurt my date’s feelings, but I’m not a puppet. I’m canceling. Even at the eleventh hour. She’ll just have to understand.”
Would she, though? Getting canceled on when she was likely already waiting for Knox to show up?
So Xander had stepped in—surprising himself. He’d avoided Viv Dalton, the wedding planner behind the woman deluge, like the plague whenever he saw her headed toward him in town with that “ooh, there’s a Crawford” look on her face. But c’mon. He couldn’t just let Knox’s date get stood up because his brother was so...stubborn.
And anyway, what was an hour and a half of his life on a date with a stranger? Some conversation, even stilted and awkward, was still always interesting, a study in people, of how things worked. Xander had been trying to figure out how people worked for as long as he could remember. So he could apply it to his own family history.
“Best. Wings. Ever!” Lily said, chomping on one liberally slathered in maple-chipotle sauce.
“Mmm, didn’t try that sauce yet,” he said, dabbing a wing in the little container. He took a bite. “Are we in Texas? These rival the best wings in Dallas.”
“That’s a mighty compliment. Do you miss home?”
“This is home now,” he said, more gruffly than he’d meant. “We bought the Ambling A ranch and are fixing it up. We’ve done a lot of work already. It’s coming along.”
“So you and your five brothers moved here, right?” she asked, taking a drink of her lemonade.
“Yup. With our dad. The seven Crawford men. Been that way a long time.”
Her eyes darted to his. “My father’s a widow, too. I lost my mom when I was eight. God, I miss her.”
Oh hell, she’d misunderstood about his mother and he didn’t want to get into the correction. “Sorry to hear that.”
“I’m sorry about your mom,” she said.
Well, now he had to. “Don’t be. She’s not dead, just gone. She took off on my dad and six little boys—my youngest brother, Wilder, was just a baby. When I let myself think about it, I can hardly believe it. Six young sons. And you just walk away.”
He shook his head, then grabbed another wing before his thoughts could steal his appetite. These wings were too good to let that happen.
Change the subject, Xander. “So what else do we have in common?” he asked, swiping a wing in pineapple-teriyaki sauce. “You have five brothers, too?”
She smiled. “Three, actually. All older. So you can guess how they treat me. We all live together in the house I grew up in—the four of us and my dad.”
“Protective older brothers. That’s nice. Princess for a day for life, am I right?”
She snorted, which he didn’t expect. “Exsqueeze me? Princess? My brothers treat me like I’m one of them. I don’t think they know I’m a girl, actually. I’m like the youngest brother.”
He laughed, imagining the four Hunts racing around the woods, playing tag, trying to catch frogs, swinging off ropes into rivers.
“They do appreciate that I cook for them, though,” she said. “And I do so because they’re hopeless. I told my brother Ryan that I was teaching him to cook and that he should heat up a can of stewed tomatoes, and I swear on the Bible that he put an unopened can of tomatoes in a pot and turned on the burner and asked, ‘How long should it cook?’”
Xander cracked up. “That’s bad.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s better now. He can even crack an egg into a bowl without sloshing half on the counter or floor. It’s all great practice for me for one day owning my own business—either a restaurant or a catering shop. I’m also studying for a business degree online—just part-time. But I want to learn how to start and run a successful business. I’m covering all the bases.”
“Wow, impressive!” he said. “You’re what, twenty-two?” She looked young. Very young. Too young for him, certainly.
“Twenty-three.”
“I’ve got seven years on you, kid,” he said. “And I’ll tell you, following your passion is where it’s at. I’m a big believer in that.”
She sobered for a moment; he wasn’t sure why, but then those green eyes of hers lit up again. “Me, too.”
They spent the next twenty minutes talking about everything from the differences between Texas and Montana cattle and terrain, where to get the best coffee in Rust Creek Falls (she was partial to Daisy’s Donuts but he loved the strong brew at the Gold Rush Diner), the wonders and pitfalls of having many brothers, and her favorite foods for each meal (omelet, chicken salad sandwich on a very fresh baguette, any kind of pasta with any kind of sauce). They talked about steak for ten minutes and then steak fries, thick and crispy, seasoned just right and dipped in quality ketchup.
The wings were suddenly gone but he could talk to her for hours more. They laughed, traded stories, watched the dog walkers, and she told him funny stories about Dobby and Harry. He loved the way the waning sun lit up her red hair and he felt so close to her that he leaned across the table, about to take both her hands to give them a squeeze. He truly felt as if he’d made a real friend here tonight.
But when he leaned, Lily leaned.
Her face—toward his.
He darted back.
She’d thought he was going to kiss her?
He cleared his throat, glancing at his watch. “It’s almost nine? How did that happen?” He tried for a good-natured smile, but who the hell knew what his expression really looked like. Xander had never been able to hide how he felt. And how he felt right now was seriously awkward.
He liked Lily. A lot. But did he like her that way? He didn’t think so. She was a kid! Twenty-three to his thirty. Just starting out. And she was the furthest thing from the women he usually dated. Perfume. Long red nails. Slinky outfits and high heels. Sleek hair. And okay, big breasts and lush hips. He liked a woman with curves. Lily was...cute but not exactly his usual type. Not that he could really tell under her loose jeans and the hoodie around her waist obscuring much of her body.
All he knew was that he liked her. A lot.
As a friend.
“Yikes,” she said, that plastered smile from when they first met on her face again. She jumped up. “Dobby and Harry are going to wonder where I am.”
He collected their containers and stuffed them back in the bag, his stomach twisting with the knowledge that he’d made things uncomfortable. Never lean toward a woman, he reminded himself, unless you’re leaning for a kiss.
“I live pretty close to the park, so I’ll just jog home,” she said quickly, tossing him an even more forced smile. “I’m dressed for it,” she added. “Thanks for dinner!” she called, and ran off.
I’ll drive you, he wanted to call out to her, but she was too fast. He watched her reach the corner, hoping she’d turn back and wave so he could see her freckles and bright eyes again, but she didn’t.
Hell if he didn’t want to see her again. Soon.
Chapter Two
The Ambling A was a sight for the ole sore eyes. Sore brain, really. Xander had thought about Lily all the way home, half wanting to call her to make sure she’d gotten home all right, half not because she might read into it.
Which made him feel like a jerk again, flattering himself.
But the way she’d leaned in for that kiss...
He would not lead her on.
He parked his new silver pickup and got out, the sprawling dark wood ranch house, which literally looked like it was made from Lincoln Logs, making him smile. He loved this place—the house, the land, the hard work to get the ranch the way they wanted. Xander headed in, never knowing who’d be home. Hunter, the second-oldest Crawford (Xander was third born), lived in a cabin on the property. A widower since the birth of his daughter, Hunter and his six-year-old, Wren, needed their own space, but the girl still had five uncles to dote on her. Logan, the eldest, had recently moved to town now that he was married with a baby to raise, but he worked on the ranch, as they all did, so it was almost like he’d never left.
The place sure had changed since the day they’d arrived. They’d mended fences for miles, repaired outbuildings, cleaned out barns, burned ditches and worked on the main house itself when they had the time and energy. A month later, it was looking good but they had a ways to go.
He came through the front door into the big house with its wide front hall and grand staircase leading up to a gallery-style landing on the second floor. He saw his dad and three of his brothers up there, going over blueprints, which meant his dad had proposed a change—again—and his sons were trying to talk him out of it. There was many a midnight argument taking place at the Ambling A. When they heard the door close behind him, they all came downstairs.
“Well, well, if isn’t the knight in shining armor,” Wilder, the youngest of the brothers, said with a grin.
Xander made a face at Wilder and shook his head, hoping they’d go back to talking blueprints. “Lily is hardly a damsel in distress. She’s very focused on what she wants. She can definitely take care of herself.” The more he thought about her, about what they’d talked about, her plans, her dreams, the more impressed he was.
Logan smiled. “Sounds like the date switch was a date match. Knox’s loss.”
Knox wasn’t around. He probably had left to get away from their matchmaking father.
“So? Was it a love match?” Finn asked. “When’s your next date?”
Twenty-nine-year-old Finn was the dreamer of the group. He could keep dreaming on this one, because another date wasn’t going to happen.
Lily was too young. And Xander was too jaded. She’d barely lived, and he was already cynical about love and guarded.
Xander rolled his eyes. “Get real. She’s twenty-three. C’mon. And very nice.”
“Ah, he used the kiss-of-death word. Nice,” Wilder said. “Nothing gonna happen there.”
That settled for the Crawford men, they turned their attention back to the blueprints. Xander scowled as they ducked their heads over the plans, gabbing away as if they didn’t just dismiss a lovely, smart, determined young woman as “nice.”
Oh, wait. He was the one who’d called her that.
But his brothers had stamped her forehead with the word, which meant she wasn’t hot or sexy or desirable. All without even laying eyes on her.
They’d written her off.
And so did you. You’re the one who put her in the friend zone in the first place.
His dad came in from the kitchen with a beer. “Ah, Xander, you’re back from the date! Have you already set up a second one?”
“You don’t even know if we had anything in common, Dad,” Xander said. “Maybe we weren’t attracted to each other.”
“I just have a feeling,” Max Crawford said with a smile and a tip of his beer at his son. That feeling should tell his father otherwise.
“I think we’re just meant to be friends, Dad,” Xander said.
“Meaning she’s not his type,” Wilder threw in. “Xander likes his women with big hair, big breasts, big hips and big giggles. All play, no talk.”
His brothers cracked up.
Xander supposed he deserved that. He did like curvy blondes who didn’t delve too deeply and liked to watch rodeos and have sex without expecting much in return other than a nice night out and a call once in a while. But one of those curvy blondes had managed to get inside him and surprise him, and he’d fallen hard, only to find her in bed with his best friend. The betrayal still stung. All these miles away from Texas.
Max shook his head. “You boys should give ‘not your types’ a chance. You’d be surprised what your supposed type turns out to be.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, Dad—and I do—it was you who told me that a single mother of a baby was not the woman for me. And she is.”
“Told you you’d be surprised what your type is,” Max said with a grin.
Logan threw a rolled-up napkin at his dad and shook his head with a laugh. But last month, Xander had caught wind of some of his father’s arguments with Logan about dating a single mother. Max had hinted that if the relationship didn’t work out, there would be three sad hearts—including a child who didn’t ask to get dragged into the muck. Xander had known his father had to be thinking of his ex-wife and how she’d abandoned them all. Times like that, he forgave his dad for being such a busybody.
Still, Xander was sticking to his type, but this time, there was no way any woman was getting inside. These days, he was only interested in a good time and he always made that clear.
Except that hadn’t been clear to Lily Hunt. Oh hell. She’d thought she was going on a date in good faith, that had gotten all messed up, and then he’d stepped in to save the night—and had ended up making it worse. He shook his head at himself. Now he really did want to call her and doubly apologize, but how would that sound?
Uh, hi, Lily, sorry for making your night go from bad to worse when you actually thought I was leaning in a for kiss.
Getting stood up by Knox might have been more fun.
He sighed.
But maybe Lily was just out for a good time herself? Could it be? She seemed a little too focused and serious-minded for that, though. Still, with her life so set on track, perhaps she just wanted a nice night out and some laughs. It was possible.
He tried to imagine Lily Hunt, with her freckles and big dreams and flashing green eyes, so full of life, out for a good time, giggling and whispering about what she was going to do to him while raking her nails up his thigh. Frankly, he couldn’t. First of all, her nails had been bitten to the quick. And honestly, he didn’t want to think of her in any way but as a new friend.
“Well, I need to do some research on the cattle we want to add to the Ambling A,” Xander said. “See y’all in the morning.” He took the steps two at the time, wanting to get away from this conversation.
Lily wasn’t his type. Plain and simple. And even if she were, he wouldn’t be interested in a relationship. Not anymore. Besides, he had the ranch to concentrate on and a new state to discover, not to mention a new hometown to get to know. That was enough.
Just let the night go, he told himself.
Upstairs in his bedroom, he sat at his desk and opened his laptop, fully intending to research local cattle sales. But he found himself going to the website for the Maverick Manor and looking at their lunch menu—just in case he wanted to drop in tomorrow after a hard morning’s work.
“French dip au jus on crusty French bread and a side of hand-cut steak fries” was one of tomorrow’s lunch specials. He’d just eaten and his mouth was already watering for that meal. Yeah, maybe he’d go to the Manor for lunch and even pop into the kitchen to say hi to Lily.
That was what friends did, right? Popped in? Visited? Said a quick hello? He’d do that and leave. That would make things good between them, get rid of all that awkwardness from tonight. They could truly be friends. Everyone could always use another friend.
But damn if he wasn’t sitting there, staring at the list of the Maverick Manor’s decadent desserts and thinking about feeding Lily succulent strawberries, watching her mouth take the juicy red fruit.
What the hell? The woman wasn’t his type! They were just going to be buddies.
He clicked over to the cattle sale site, forcing his mind onto steers and heifers and far from strawberries and twenty-three-year-old Lily Hunt.
* * *
“Ooh, Lily, that hot Crawford cowboy was just seated at table three,” whispered AnnaBeth Bellows, a waitress at the Maverick Manor and Lily’s good friend. Lily had told AnnaBeth about her date with Xander so Lily knew the hot cowboy had to be him.
She almost gasped yet kept her focus on her broiled shrimp, caramelizing just so in garlic, olive oil and sea salt. She added a hint of cayenne in the last few seconds, and plated it the moment she knew it was done. Sixth sense.
According to Mark, table eight’s waiter, the group was from New Orleans originally even though they lived in Kalispell now. Lily always had the waiters find out where her diners were from so she could add a tiny taste of home to their dishes. It was just a little thing Lily did that her diners seemed to appreciate, even if they didn’t know why they reacted so strongly, so emotionally to their food. The other cooks thought it was a lot to deal with, but Lily enjoyed the whole process. Food was special. Food was your family. Food was home in a good way, the best way, and could remind people of wonderful memories. Sometimes sad memories, too. But evoking those feelings seemed to have a good impact on her diners and on her. So she continued the tradition.
She placed the gorgeous shrimp, a deep, rich bronze, with its side of seasoned vegetables on the waiter’s station and raced to the Out door to the dining room. She peered through the little round window on the door, looking for the sexy cowboy.
Yes, there he was. Sitting by himself, thank God, and not with a date set up by Viv Dalton, which was her immediate fear when AnnaBeth had whispered that he was here.
Of course, he could be waiting on a date.
“Dining alone,” AnnaBeth said with a smile.
Lily couldn’t help grinning back, her heart flip-flopping. “Could a man be more gorgeous?”
“Yes—my boyfriend,” AnnaBeth said, “even if Petey-pie has a receding hairline and a bit of a belly. He’s hot to me.”
Lily laughed. “And Pete’s the greatest guy ever, too.” Yes, indeed, Lily should aspire to a wonderful guy like AnnaBeth’s “Petey-pie.” Kind. Loyal. Full of integrity. Brought her little gifts for no reason. Called her AnnaBeauty all the time. Making Lily wistful.
Lily bit her lip. “Okay, why is Xander here after that awkward moment from hell last night on our not-a-date?”
“The almost kiss,” AnnaBeth suggested, watching for the other two cooks plating, which meant she’d have to rush off to pick up. “I’m telling you, Xander was just caught off guard. He wasn’t even expecting to have a date last night, right? But then he did, a wings picnic, and he fell madly in love with you but didn’t expect to and now he’s here to ask you out again.”
Lily laughed. “I love you, AnnaBeth. Seriously. Everyone needs one of you. But life is not a Christmas movie. Even though I wish it were.”
“Listen, my friend. You have to make your own magic. Just like you do with your food.”
Lily watched Xander close the menu. She wondered what he’d decided on.
“Ah, time to take the cowboy’s order,” AnnaBeth said. “Back in a flash.”
Lily watched them until she noticed her boss, Gwendolyn, eyeing her and then staring at her empty cooking station. She darted to her stove, working on another batch of au jus for today’s French dip special.
In a minute, AnnaBeth was back with Xander’s order. The special.
She smiled and began working on it and four more for other tables. But to table three’s sauce she added just a hint of sweet, smoky barbecue sauce, a flavor that would take Xander Crawford back to Texas where he’d lived his whole life until a month ago.
Could he be here to see her? If he wasn’t interested in her—and he sure hadn’t seemed to be last night with that not-kiss thing—wouldn’t he avoid where she worked?
But then she thought of him and the reaction he must get from women, and she was flooded with doubts. There was no way Lily of the hoodie and sneakers would be Xander Crawford’s type. When she was young and girls at school would make fun of her for being a tomboy, her mother would always say, You’re exactly as you should be—yourself. That had always made Lily feel better. And maybe Xander liked a down-to-earth woman with flour on her cheek and smelling of onions and caramelized shrimp and peppercorns.
Anything was possible. That was the name of the game.
She smiled at the thought, adding a pinch of garam masala to table twelve’s sauce since they were honeymooners who’d just returned from India. For table fourteen, visitors from Maine, she added a dash of Bell’s Seasoning, a famed New England blend of rosemary, sage, oregano and other spices.
Lily worked on five more entrées, her apron splattered, her mind moving so fast she could barely think about Xander in the dining room, eating her food right now. Was he enjoying it? Did it hit the spot? Did it bring a little bit of Texas to Montana today?
“Five-minute break if you need it,” Gwendolyn called out to her. “Your tables are all freshly served so you’re clear.”
“Ah, great,” she said, grabbing her water bottle and taking a big swig, staring out the long, narrow window at the Montana wilderness at the back of the Manor.
“I just had the best French dip sandwich of my life,” a deep voice said from behind her, and she almost jumped.
Xander! Standing right there.
“Craziest thing,” he said. “I took two bites and started thinking about the ranch I grew up on in Dallas, my dad teaching me and Hunter how to ride a two-wheeler. I was a little mad at my dad earlier, and now I’m full of good memories, so he’s back out of the doghouse.”
“You can’t be in here,” she whispered, trying to hide her grin. She shooed him out the back door, the breezy August air so refreshing on her face. “So you loved the French dip?”
“Beyond loved it. It tasted like...home. I know this is home now, but that sandwich reminded me of Texas in a good way. And I left behind some things I’d like to forget.”
Huh. Like what? she wondered. A bad relationship? His heart?
“It’s a little trick my mother taught me when I was young,” she said, making herself keep her mind on the conversation. “My maternal grandparents moved to Montana from Louisiana, and my grandmother would add just a dash of creole seasoning to everything she cooked here because it reminded her of the bayou. My mama was a little girl when they left the South, and she never forgot that taste, so she taught me about it. Now I try to add a little taste of home in all my orders. It’s easy for the waiters to get a personal tidbit about where they’re from or have just been.”
He stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. What was he thinking? “You’re not an everyday person, Lily Hunt.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that. “Uh, thank you?”
He smiled. “I mean that in the best way possible. I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone like you. You have a bit of the leprechaun in you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Aren’t leprechauns supposed to be the worst kind of mischievous?”
“Magical. That’s what I meant. You’ve got a bit of magic in you.” His voice held a note of reverence, and she was so startled by it, so overwhelmed, that she couldn’t speak.
“I have to have another French dip,” he said. “For the road. It was so good I feel like I should get seven to go for my brothers and dad. In fact, can you take that order?”
She grinned. “Absolutely.”
“Good. Maybe they’ll get off my case about last night’s date and stop asking me all kinds of questions. I tried to tell them we’re just friends, that it wasn’t really a date date, since you were fixed up with Knox. But you know how brothers are.”