Snowbound with a millionaire

Faith Shaw can’t wait for another hometown Thanksgiving with the good people of Jasper Gulch. Turkey, mashed potatoes, apple pie—and this year’s centennial celebration. Yet there’s one person who isn’t happy to be there: Dale Massey, the Shaw family’s reluctant houseguest. When a winter storm strands the big-city millionaire in Montana, he is far from pleased. But the mayor’s daughter suspects Dale’s all-business attitude is masking a deeper hurt. Faith can’t help but feel he was sent to Jasper Gulch for a reason. Can an old-fashioned girl and some holiday tradition help bring

his weary heart home?

BIG SKY CENTENNIAL: A small town rich in history…and love

It’s Homecoming Weekend

in Jasper Gulch. Please Join Us

As We Salute the Descendants of

Our Town’s Founding Fathers!

It’s been generations since a Massey has set foot in Jasper Gulch, Montana, and the whole town is abuzz over the arrival of Dale Massey, great-great-grandson of one of the town’s founders. One hundred years later and people are still talking about the feud that caused a rift between the Masseys and the Shaws.

But now they are also talking about a possible connection between a Massey and a Shaw: Dale Massey and Faith Shaw, to be precise. What would a millionaire real estate broker want with the sweet small-town violinist? Has history come full circle? Or will Dale leave town when the photo ops are done, leaving Faith and her loving heart behind?

* * *

Big Sky Centennial:

A small town rich in history…and love.

His Montana Homecoming by Jenna Mindel—November 2014

JENNA MINDEL

lives in northwest Michigan with her husband and their three dogs. She enjoys a career in banking that has spanned twenty-five years and several positions, but writing is her passion. A 2006 Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Jenna has answered her heart’s call to write inspirational romances set near the Great Lakes.

His Montana Homecoming

Jenna Mindel

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.

—Genesis 28:15

To my fellow authors Valerie Hansen, Ruth Logan Herne, Carolyne Aarsen, Brenda Minton and Arlene James—thank you for your insight, your wealth of knowledge, your patience, but most of all your friendship. It has been a pleasure!

To Sherry Linnerooth, Executive Director of the Bozeman Symphony, thank you for taking the time to answer my many questions. Your insight is greatly appreciated.

To Rob, thank you for all the interesting little details like candles in the car and talc mines.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Dale Massey yawned. He was used to traveling, even overseas, but today’s flight to Bozeman, Montana, had wiped him out. During the layover in Denver, he’d managed to get some work done but not nearly enough to satisfy him.

Grabbing his suitcase in baggage claim, Dale headed for the rental-car counter. It didn’t take long. The airport was small. Wood-beamed ceilings were a novel touch as well as the stonework and robust-patterned carpet. He’d heard that Montana was rugged land, but he’d take Fifth Avenue any day.

In New York, he knew what to expect. And no one expected him to care. He hadn’t earned the nickname Dale the Coldheart by shying away from the hard calls in business. His ability to cut through the frills was the reason his father made him in charge of delivering the uncomfortable decisions made by Massey International.

Ten minutes later, Dale kept his voice low and controlled. No need to ever rant. Dale always got what he wanted. “Check again. I have a BMW reserved.”

“I’m sorry, but we have no record of that, sir.” The young woman’s face grew red.

With embarrassment or fear, Dale wasn’t sure. He knew his assistant, and Jeannie never let him down. Reserving the 528 Bimmer was a given. The mistake had to be on the rental service, one of only two in the airport.

“Then what do you have available?”

Now the girl looked scared. “An economy car, sir. We’re waiting for more vehicles to arrive, just like the other car rental store.”

He’d fare no better with their competitor, then. Shaking his head, he signed the paperwork. “How do you run out of cars?”

“It’s a big week at the ski resorts and there’s this homecoming in Jasper Gulch—”

“I get it.” Dale held up his hand to stop the service clerk’s overly chipper-sounding rattle.

The girl did her job.

It wasn’t her fault that Dale had to represent the Massey family in Jasper Gulch. In an economy rental, no less.

She gave him the keys with trembling fingers. “Right through those double doors. You can’t miss the car. It’s yellow but it has a turbo engine, no extra charge.”

“Thank you.”

Shifting his briefcase, Dale found the ugly little car bearing the same color as a lemon. The stupid thing wasn’t much bigger than a lemon, either.

He looked around the empty lot. Not much he could do. Only a few more of the nonturbo toy cars sat parked. Not even a minivan graced the spaces reserved for rentals. He’d rather be dead than caught in a minivan, but that’d be more comfortable than the subcompact before him. Turbo or not.

“Nice.” Gritting his teeth, Dale threw his baggage in the rear hatch and then folded his six-foot-two frame into the driver’s seat.

He had an hour’s drive yet to reach Jasper Gulch. He touched the GPS app on his phone. Jeannie had reserved him a room at the town’s one and only inn and downloaded the directions. He started the car and pulled out with a squeal of tires. He aimed to find out how fast this little turbo could go.

By the time Dale drove past the Jasper Gulch, Montana, Welcomes You sign on the one road into town, his spirits had recovered. He had to own that the view of snow-tipped mountains beyond the tiny town impressed him. There was a wide main street with diagonal parking on either side. Dale might as well have stepped back in time. Old pickup trucks and even a couple of horses stood parked by storefronts that looked straight out of an old Clint Eastwood Western.

Where on earth was he?

He found the hotel he’d been booked into and that’s when his good time ended. Leaning against the counter of the Fidler Inn, Dale tried to keep his voice even. “What do you mean my lodging has been changed?”

A gray-haired woman named Mamie Fidler, who owned the place, tapped her foot. “The mayor saw to it personally and has a room for you at Shaw Ranch.”

Dale scanned the hokey inn with its crackling fire and various aged people milling around near the warmth. Mamie wore hiking boots with tall woolen socks and a denim skirt. He ran his hand through his hair. He was a long way from Fifth Avenue.

“Well, Mr. Massey? We’re full up.” Mamie was running out of patience.

So was he. Nothing about this trip had gone as planned. Who changed a person’s reservation without asking? And what kind of lodging would he find at this Shaw Ranch—some kind of dude ranch?

He looked at Mamie and sighed. “How do I get there?”

She smiled and pushed a Jasper Gulch Chamber of Commerce illustrated map at him and drew a black marker line to where he needed to go. “See here. Not too far.”

Minutes later, Dale was back in the tiny car headed down a street that bore his last name. He turned north onto Shaw Boulevard and chuckled. Was this place for real? The Masseys had taken off for New York long ago, but the Shaws had stayed and grabbed a grand-sounding name for their street.

The town had been founded by his great-great-grandfather, Silas Massey, along with a man named Ezra Shaw. Dale knew that from what his father, Julian, had told him and from what he’d been able to dig up on internet sites specializing in genealogies. Julian owed him big time for this one.

The road ended outside town at an expanse of green lawn leading to a lavish-looking ranch. Dale followed the winding driveway to the front door under a log archway covered by a large metal roof. Okay, this was more like it. At least they had valet parking. Dale would have to thank the mayor for making the change first chance he got.

He unfolded his legs and stretched. Dale wanted a shower, dinner and sleep, not necessarily in that order. The November sun had set behind the distant mountains, casting a rosy haze across the valley. Talk about a wide-open space. Staring out at the vast land untouched by concrete or steel made him feel small and unworthy.

Dale knew those feelings well. He’d battled them since he was six years old when his father had walked out on him and his mother. But this landscape whispered a challenge, a call to adventure. A man could face himself out here and come up empty or victorious. Which would he be?

Dale shook his head. He wasn’t here to face who he was or wasn’t. He was here to represent the Massey name.

He opened one of the heavy wooden doors that was pretty hefty for a bed-and-breakfast. Didn’t they realize older folks might have trouble with such a door? Not wise for a commercial venture. Didn’t they have ordinances in Montana?

He stepped inside. There had to be a valet somewhere.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah, yes...” Dale whirled around at the feminine voice.

A small woman, young, dressed in jeans and a Western-style plaid shirt over a white tank top, cocked her head. Her hair was that reddish-brown color that was neither light nor dark but lush. Her eyes were huge and blue like a storybook princess he’d seen on a preview for a Disney movie.

Those pretty eyes widened as she took in his height. They also looked interested.

“Sort of casual for a valet, don’t you think?” He gave her a thorough once-over before tossing her his two keys. “My car’s outside.”

The keys slapped on the floor.

“Excuse me?” She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

Not a valet, then. “Are you the maid?”

The clothes she wore should have been a dead giveaway. Rugged Montana maids wouldn’t wear aprons or cleaning uniforms. Of course they’d dress in jeans. And this one looked amazing in them.

Her hands made small fists on her narrow hips. Her head might reach his shoulders if they stood close. “Who are you?”

“Dale Massey.”

The lovely girl rolled her eyes as recognition dawned. “I should have known.”

Yeah, she should have. Most everyone did. He’d been on the cover of Fortune magazine a couple of months ago. But then, not a lot of workers in the service industry read that particular magazine. Maybe this one did.

Dale puffed up his chest in anticipation of the sweet apology she’d deliver. He wouldn’t mind seeing those dusty freckles on her nose and cheeks blush a little.

“I guess I’ll show you to your room.” She didn’t sound too thrilled. Not exactly good customer service.

“Don’t I have to sign something? Get some keys?”

She pointed to the tiled slate floor. “Your keys are right there and you’ll have to move your car. Dad will have a fit if you block the front.”

Dale swallowed hard. “Dad?”

She tilted her head. “Mayor Jackson Shaw is my father. I’m Faith Shaw.”

“And this place is...” His throat went dry as the air outside.

“Shaw Ranch.” A mischievous twinkle shone in her expressive eyes. She enjoyed his discomfort. “Welcome to our home.”

* * *

So this was the infamous Dale Massey who’d been too busy to return her brother Cord’s calls. The Centennial Planning Committee had tried for months to get a hold of the Massey family. Cord said they’d been abrupt, dismissive and downright rude at times.

But my, my, my. This man was certainly handsome—in a manicured sort of way. Even the stubble along his jawline looked meticulously groomed. His sleek gray slacks and pristine white shirt with coordinating tie screamed high-end quality. The long tan woolen coat that probably cost a fortune made his green eyes look golden. This man knew exactly how good he looked, too. The smirk on his face confirmed his expectation of fawning adoration.

Faith nearly laughed. He’d get none of that from her. “You want to see the room first or move your car?”

The corner of his shapely mouth twitched. “Move the car. We wouldn’t want to anger your father, now, would we?”

She waited for him to pick up his keys. She might be closer, but he threw them there.

A slow smile spread across his face. As if they shared a secret.

Faith’s belly dropped and her pulse picked up speed. Oh, no. That smile meant big trouble. He was trouble. And Faith had a definite weakness for troublesome men.

Dale scooped up his keys with nimble grace and gestured for her to lead the way. “Ladies first.”

Now she was a lady? Not the maid or valet?

Faith knew his type well. He had everything but gave nothing. She meant nothing to someone like him other than a passing flirtation. Dale Massey struck her as a maestro when it came to the art of male-female relations, and way too rich for her blood in more ways than mere money.

Faith waited for him to catch up and walked alongside him out the double doors. She openly stared at the tiny car in front of her. “You came in that thing?”

“My reservation was lost.” He popped the hatch with a click of his key. “Speaking of reservations, why’d your father take it upon himself to move me out here when I was already booked into the Fidler Inn?”

“He thought you’d be more comfortable. The inn’s pretty packed with homecoming and all.”

Yeah, right!

Faith knew her father’s matchmaking when she smelled it, and Mr. Fancy Pants sure smelled good. Not too much scent, but enough to make a woman want to step closer.

Even though her little sister, Julie, was happily married to a cowboy and her older brother Cord also recently got hitched, Jackson Shaw pushed Faith toward the altar, as well. If it wasn’t that anxious banker Wilbur Thompson, it was their pastor who her father encouraged her to chase. They were both good, dependable and solid men. The trouble was, Faith Shaw had never wanted good and dependable. She loved the challenge of a chase. But she’d learned a thing or two when she’d left home. Some wild things didn’t want to be tamed.

Faith didn’t chase anymore. Not after catching way more than she’d bargained for with Scott in Seattle. Bad boys didn’t reform, and flashy flirts were a heartbreak waiting in the wings.

She gave Dale Massey a quick once-over and sighed. He looked like all those things and more. He lifted his designer luggage out of the trunk. No matter how attractive the wrapping, Faith wasn’t ready for marriage. If she were, good and dependable would have more appeal. Anyway, she liked her life nice and simple. Dale Massey had complication written all over him.

“Where should I park?”

Faith gathered her wits and pointed. “Around the corner. Next to my car is fine. It’s the navy blue Honda.”

Dale nodded and climbed into his rental. Even with the seat pushed back, he looked cramped.

Good! Might knock him down a peg.

Faith gave herself a mental shake. It wasn’t nice to wish discomfort on a person. Not exactly her best what-would-Jesus-do moment. She rubbed her arms at the chill in the air and waited for Dale Massey’s return.

In moments, he stood tall before her. Very tall. And broad shouldered. Still flashy, though. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Again with the lady-killer smile. “You could have gone inside.”

Faith shrugged. Was he being polite or flirting? It shouldn’t matter, but tell that to the shiver that raced up her spine. “Come on.”

Dale silently followed, but his presence spoke louder than any cymbal. He had a very manly presence for a well-groomed city slicker. She had a feeling this man knew more about high fashion than she did.

Faith spotted her mom charging down the hallway. Ranger, their white poodle, pranced right alongside her.

Faith stopped.

Dale bumped into her. “Sorry.”

Faith ignored her skin’s gooseflesh at the brief contact. “Mom, this is Dale Massey. Daddy arranged for him to stay here.”

Her mother’s smile broadened and she extended her hands. “Dale. How good of you to come.”

“Mrs. Shaw.” He reached for her mother’s hand, but Nadine Shaw pulled him into a hearty embrace and even slapped his back before letting go.

Faith bit her lip to keep from laughing at the shock on Dale Massey’s face.

“Call me Nadine. Everyone does.” Her mom scooped up the dog. “This is Ranger. And it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I’m honored.” He flashed that smile and ignored the dog.

Nadine pinched his arm, getting mostly wool coat. “Ooohhhh, nice material. Faith, look out for this one. Pastor Ethan’s got competition here.”

Faith felt her eyes bulge as she gave her mom a pointed look.

But her mother kept going. “Faith’s our only daughter left unwed. Julie, our youngest, hitched up last month. As did my oldest boy.”

“Mom!”

“Well...it’s true.” Nadine smiled.

Dale listened with forced interest. This guy was polished with a capital P, but he humored her mother, who made them sound like a bunch of backward clodhoppers.

“Show Dale to his room, honey. Your father’s at a meeting in town, so dinner will be a late. Dale, you’re dining with us.” Her mom gave him a wink. “Do you have any allergies we should know about?”

Dale cocked an eyebrow. “None, Nadine. And dinner sounds fine.”

If he was put out by her mom’s orders, Dale didn’t show it. Well, maybe not too visibly, but Faith had seen his chin lift a tad. The man had manners and ironclad control on his facial expressions.

She gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

Dale hoisted his suitcase and followed her without 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?

Chapter Two

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, the noise level immediately escalated as lids came off serving platters and food was passed around.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of.” Cord, the oldest brother, passed a bowl of steaming potatoes.

“Yes.” No sense in denying it. Dale had ducked every call made from Jasper Gulch. But in the end, Julian had won. Dale was here, his father wasn’t.

“Is your father planning to attend homecoming?” Cord asked.

“Not this time. He’s traveling to Hong Kong.” An excuse. His father never did what he didn’t want to. Those responsibilities fell to Dale, and who was he to say no?

“Do you have any brothers or sisters who might come?” the younger sister asked. Julie was her name, and she resembled Faith. Both young women had slightly different shades of the rich auburn hair from their mother.

Dale passed the bowl to Faith. “Two half brothers, and no, they won’t be joining me.”

Faith’s eyes went wide. “Would they come if they knew we’ve got a Massey-family float planned for the Thanksgiving Day parade?”

Julian hadn’t said anything about Thanksgiving. Dale assumed it was only this weekend for their homecoming thing. “I won’t be staying. I’ve got business in New York.”

Faith shared a look with her sister. “But it’s Thanksgiving. Don’t you take vacation and spend time with your family?”

Dale gave her a grim smile. “Not if I can help it.”

Her pretty mouth dropped open and she lowered the bowl of potatoes and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Faith shook her head. “I assumed you’d celebrate like a normal person, you know, with parents and turkey and all the trimmings. Only here, in Jasper Gulch.”

He chuckled. Normal. What was that? “I enjoy the luxury of going where I please for holidays.”

“All alone?” She bit her lip.

He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Not always.”

Her eyes widened. He’d flustered her again.

Well, what did she expect?

He passed a bowl and glanced at her once more. Faith Shaw looked sorry for him. He had everything money could buy. Whatever he wanted was his for the asking. What did she think he needed that she’d look at him with such pity?

He glanced around the table. Did anyone notice his conversation with Miss Shaw? No. Faith’s family was busy eating and talking.

“You might find our homecoming event interesting,” Cord said to him.

Dale doubted that, but he didn’t want to appear rude. “Yeah?”

“The founders of Jasper Gulch, your great-great-grandfather and mine, buried a time capsule a hundred years ago that will be on display. In it were blueprints of what is now city hall and pretty extensive city planning documents, among other period items and photos.”

Dale nodded. Those plans might actually be worth a look. “Interesting.”

“Someone else thought so, too, since the time capsule was stolen back in July. But it was finally found a couple of weeks ago. Cal Calloway said it had been abandoned by Beaver Creek Bridge,” Faith’s sister said. “Cal’s our deputy sheriff.”

“Is that so?” Dale’s curiosity waned. He glanced down the table and spotted the mayor sharing a look with his wife.

The man caught his eye and coughed. “We’re a safe community, Dale. Personally, I think the culprit who stole the time capsule has left town.”

Faith’s eyes widened. “You think maybe it was Pete Daniels?”

The mayor shrugged. “Stands to reason when the capsule pops up after he’s gone. But I guess we’ll never know for sure. The important thing is the capsule was found with all that history intact. Things have certainly quieted down, too. We can all be thankful for that.”

Dale nearly laughed at the serious nods given around the Shaw table. Was the biggest crime in Jasper Gulch this stolen time capsule? Probably some kid’s prank.

Faith leaned his way. “Pete Daniels is sort of our town’s troublemaker.”

Dale matched her serious tone. “I see.”

Yeah. That cleared it up.

Dale sighed. It was only a few days. He’d leave in a few days and his world would return to normal. His normal. And it couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

The next morning, Faith poured orange juice into a glass and looked at her father. Jackson Shaw had been grumpy the last couple of months and it was no wonder. The pressure from a six-month-long centennial celebration would wear on anyone. Being mayor of a small town that needed big results crushed heavy.

Good thing her dad had broad shoulders. Cord said he’d finally agreed that Jasper Gulch needed to grow to not only survive but flourish.

She watched him rub his temples. “You okay, Dad? Didn’t you sleep well?”

Her father sighed. “I slept just fine.”

She didn’t believe him. Dark smudges hung under his eyes and he hadn’t even touched his favorite sweet roll.

“Good morning.” Dale Massey entered the dining room dressed in a suit. A suit! Shirt, tie, jacket, all in shades of olive. What man wore a color like that unless his clothes were army fatigues?

Faith stared.

He gave her one of his slow smiles that felt like a caress. “Something wrong?”

A man shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that!

“You’re dressed awful...” Faith stammered, “...awfully fine this morning.”

“I’ve got a meeting at Lone Peak ski resort.” Dale poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the buffet as if he owned the place.

Obviously Dale didn’t know that people didn’t dress like that around here. Maybe he was meeting with a fancy client on vacation. But then, they wouldn’t dress up like that, either. Not while on vacation.

“It snowed there overnight.” Her father steepled his fingers and stared her down.

Faith knew what he was getting at. Dale wouldn’t make it through the mountains in that rental car. He might do fine on the interstate, but once he hit the back roads, he’d get stuck for sure. “Dale, you can take my car. It has all-wheel drive and chains in the back.”

Dale looked confused about the chains. “Thank you. Unfortunately, you’re not authorized to use the lemon.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can use my mom’s car if I need to go anywhere.”

“Faith.” Her father’s eyes briefly closed. She’d seen that look a dozen times growing up. It was his you-should-know-better look. “Take him there. Dale’s our guest.”

Dale gave her a wary glance before zeroing back in on her father. “I’m sure I’ll be fine—”

“These mountain passes can be tricky this time of year. Faith knows the way and a shortcut, to boot.” Her father gave her a nod that said arguing would be fruitless. “Adam and Austin will see to your chores.”

Faith held her breath before letting it back out. She could refuse, but that wouldn’t go over well with her father. Not when she still lived under his roof. And she’d look foolish in front of Dale. She’d planned to practice her violin, but she could do that tonight, so that was not the best excuse for declining. Butterflies in her stomach were even worse. Besides, that reaction played right into her father’s matchmaking hands.

She wasn’t interested in a guy like Dale Massey. Attracted? Who wouldn’t be? She’d seen his taut abs outlined by the skimpy undershirt he wore. She glanced at their guest. “I need to drop by the bank on our way. How much time do you have?”

“Plenty.” Dale sipped his coffee.

In other words, that meeting waited for him. Nice. The world revolved around Dale Massey’s schedule. “Then I can eat breakfast.”

“Take your time.” Another sip.

“Have a seat, Dale.” Her father gestured toward the table. “Sandy made a frittata but if you’d like something else, say the word. The boys have already eaten, but there’s plenty.”

“Sandy’s a friend and our housekeeper and also a knitter for Julie’s business,” Faith explained while she loaded her plate from the chafing dishes on the buffet.

He gave her a bored look. “Coffee’s fine.”

Faith went back to the business of filling her plate. Dale would wish he’d have eaten these fixings after they were in the car for an hour-plus drive to Lone Peak. She made a mental note to stuff a few granola bars in her purse before they left. Then she sat down across from Dale, ignored his surprise at the heaping portion on her plate and dug in.

* * *

Dale watched Faith kiss the mayor’s forehead.

“Bye, Daddy. Not sure when we’ll be back.” She sounded genuinely considerate. Spoiled, maybe? No. He knew spoiled, and Faith Shaw wasn’t that.

“Take your time. And fill up your gas tank before you leave Jasper Gulch.”

“Will do.” She waited for him by the doorway. “Ready?”

Dale gathered his thoughts. “Yes.”

She gave him a once-over. “Don’t you have a different coat? Or boots?”

“This coat is warm, and these are my boots.” They were Gucci and comfortable.

Her eyes lowered in a knowing look. “You’ve never been to Lone Peak.”

“No.” Dale wasn’t a ski nut like Eric, his half brother. He never had the time or the inclination. “How’d you guess?”

“You’re a bit overdressed.” By her tone, he knew she wasn’t giving him a compliment. “I’ll get some real boots for you.”

“But we’ll be in the car.” Dale looked out the window as he followed her. The sun shone through puffy white clouds in a blue sky. Not a flake of snow at the Shaw spread.

“Out here, it’s best to be prepared.”

“For what?” Dale waited for her as she dived into a large walk-in closet.

She looked at him as if he lacked a brain. “We’re driving through the mountains. We could go off the road, get stuck in snow. Any number of things. The ski resorts have snow. The peaks always have snow. Your feet will freeze if we have to walk anywhere.”

“I see.” Dale owed the mayor a debt of gratitude for making Faith drive. He’d never given a breakdown or accident a single thought. Probably not wise to drive around this desolate area alone. He’d already learned cell coverage was spotty at best.

“Try these.” She tossed a pair of thick boots his way. They were huge lace-up things with felt liners.

Dale slipped off one sleek leather boot and stuck his foot inside. “Yeah, they fit.”

She smiled. “I figured you were closer to Adam’s size than Austin’s. You’ve got big feet.”

He chuckled as he slid his foot back into his own shoe-boot. “So, how’d you end up so small compared to the rest of your family? Did they find you under a fern somewhere?”

She grinned. “That would explain a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Like why I never want to leave this land. Shaw land is part of me, like, in my blood. You know?”

He didn’t, but he nodded anyway as he watched her shrug into her own coat and pull on felt-lined boots that hit her midcalf and had fake fur along the top. He followed her out and climbed into the passenger seat of her little SUV.

The Shaws lived quite a ways out of town. Their driveway alone seemed like miles long. Lush green grass surrounding the house gave way to straw-colored grass that grew tall and spindly against the wire fencing. An immaculate spread of red barns and outbuildings, the property had to be worth a small fortune. Horses sauntered in their pasture, some following after Faith’s SUV within their confined space.

Dale stared out the window as if transfixed by the purple mountains behind rolling hills dotted with evergreens. The clear blue sky held puffy white clouds that looked so huge and close enough to touch.

“It is beautiful land,” he finally said.

“I think so.” Faith nodded. “Different than New York, I imagine.”

He chuckled and focused on Faith’s driving the road ahead. She had a lead foot. “Very different. Although, the city sprawls with the same vastness. New York is huge and it’s a city that never sleeps.”

Faith shook her head. “I wouldn’t like that. I look forward to my eight hours.”

Dale had certainly received his share of sleep overnight and then some. He’d slept hard with none of the trouble that came with travel and hotel rooms.

Finally, Faith pulled into the bank on the corner of Shaw Boulevard and Main. Dale made a call on his cell during the short drive into town. He’d gotten through to his office and left a message on his father’s voice mail that he was headed for the ski resort meeting. He’d give him an update later.

Faith parked, got out and then peeked her head back inside. “Want to come in? There’s a picture of your great-great-grandpa hanging on the wall in there.”

Dale checked his phone. No new messages. “Silas?”

Faith nodded.

“Yes. I’d like to see that.”

Despite the warm morning sunshine, there was a distinct chill in the air. He glanced at those awful boots tossed in the backseat. No way.

They walked toward the glass doors of a building that blended in with the rest. Same storefront look with a simple facade. It didn’t look old. Not like the city hall building he’d seen when he first drove into town. In fact, that place looked more like a bank than this one.

“Hi, Faith.” A man close to his own age and height opened the door for her as he exited the bank. His smile was warm and welcoming. The word easygoing came to mind.

“Pastor Ethan, good morning.” She stopped short and Dale nearly ran into her. Again. “This is Dale Massey—he’s come to represent one of the founding families for homecoming.”

The guy extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Dale shook it. Pastor Ethan looked more like a well-groomed surfer than a minister. He had relaxed casual nailed. Faith could do worse. “Likewise.”

“I’m showing him around,” Faith said with a sheepish smile.

“Great. Yeah, well, have a nice day.” The minister nodded and walked on. No jealousy there.

Dale followed Faith inside. “That’s your boyfriend?”

Faith shook her head and laughed. “No.”

“But your mom said—”

“Just talk. There’s too much talk in this town, especially these days. All I did was bid on his picnic basket and next thing I know, folks were guessing the date.”

“You did what?”

“Bid on his picnic basket, you know, at the fair.”

He was lost.

Faith’s eyes widened with pitiful mirth. “You’ve never been to a small-town fair.”

“No.” Why’d she make it sound as if he’d missed something important?

They walked inside and another man, short and stocky in a gray suit with a bad comb-over from premature hair loss, approached them. He, too, had a wide smile for his compact chaperone. And maybe a little more interest, too. “Morning, Faith.”

Faith smiled in return. “Dale, this is Wilbur Thompson. He manages the bank. Mind if I show him the picture of Silas Massey in the safe-deposit-box room?”

“Certainly. Wait—are you Dale Massey? Of Massey International?” Wilbur turned to him with gleaming eyes.

Dale gave a quick nod. “I am.”

“Nice article in Fortune, by the way. Mr. Massey, are you staying in town? If so, we’d be honored to set up a temporary account for you to use. It’ll only take a few moments.”

“I’m all set.”

Wilbur gave him a shrewd look. “Well, here’s my card if you change your mind.”

“Thanks.” Dale pocketed it. He wouldn’t need it, wouldn’t use it, either.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather.” Faith pointed to the portrait in the lobby. “Ezra Shaw.”

He looked at the stocky man in the picture with a handlebar mustache.

Faith stood next to him. “My middle name is Elaine, after Ezra’s wife.”

Faith Elaine Shaw. He looked at her. She liked to chatter.

Her cheeks colored. “The safe-deposit-box room is this way.”

He followed her across a hardwood floor that creaked. Every person, staff member and customer alike knew Faith and greeted her with warmth. They’d stop and chat, and Faith returned that same warmth with a grin or wave, or a quick caress to a chubby toddler’s cheek. She was the mayor’s daughter, after all, but she didn’t seem a bit affected by that. These were natural actions.

Once they were in the safe-deposit room, Dale pointed out the obvious. “You talked to everyone in this place.”

“Sorry. You said time wasn’t an issue.” She shrugged. “I grew up here. Went to school with these people, and babysat their kids when I was a teenager. Now, take a good look at that picture and tell me what you see.”

Dale looked up at the canvas of a man who looked neither young nor old. His hair looked darker and longer and Silas wore a beard that covered half his face. “A creepy version of me or my father even. Didn’t anyone use a razor back then?”

“He’s not creepy,” Faith defended, and then stared at the canvas with him. “I think he’s kind of handsome.”

Dale stared at her. “You’re crazy.”

She giggled. “Silas was a gold miner and a brave one, at that, so I’ve heard. He and my great-great-grandfather founded this town and opened this bank with their gold. Well, back then, the bank was what is now city hall.” Dale stared at the portrait, only partially hearing what Faith said. This man was his relative. His history. Silas Massey had shrewd eyes that looked out from the canvas with intelligence. He was probably a good businessman. So, what made the guy head east if he had everything going for him right here?

“Why isn’t his portrait out front in the lobby beside Ezra’s?”

Faith shrugged. “I don’t know. Silas has been in here ever since I can remember.”

“Why’d he leave?”

“I don’t know that, either. No one really does. Oh, there were rumors that the two fought over a claim. Who knows? It was a long time ago.”

Dale glanced at the portrait of his great-great-grandfather again. An odd connection to the man resonated even though Dale knew very little about him. Silas might have been a wild gold miner, for all he knew, but he’d laid the groundwork for Massey International, a business Dale’s grandfather started and Julian perfected.

Dale did his best to grow it, but on this trip, it was all about protecting it. Dale didn’t stand for money pits. Purchasing an office space for his brother Eric might end up a giant sinkhole if the place was never used.

Chapter Three

Faith stood in line and tried not to overhear the conversation in front of her between the bank teller and Robin Frazier. Robin had moved to Jasper Gulch over the summer to work on some kind of genealogy project for her thesis.

Faith felt bad for the young woman who’d lost her ATM card in the bank’s machine and faced the firing squad before getting it back.

“I need to reference your driver’s license, Miss Frazier.” The teller, one of Nadine Shaw’s good friends, had a voice that carried. “Okay, now sign here please, exactly as on your card, Robin Elaine Frazier.”

Faith’s attention snagged on the middle name. Same as hers.

“I know it’s you, hon, but I still have to jot down your ID number for documentation.” The teller handed back Robin’s ID and ATM card.

Finally finished, with plastic in hand, Robin turned, looking frazzled.

“Hi, Robin.” Faith stepped forward and whispered, “I couldn’t help but overhear. We’ve got the same name.”

Robin blinked a couple of times and then rubbed the dark mole under her eyebrow. “Same name?”

Faith quickly explained, “My middle name is Elaine, same as yours. Mine comes from my great-great-grandmother.” She pointed at Ezra’s portrait. “His wife.”

“Yes, that’s right. Ezra married Elaine. Pretty common name, though.” Robin still looked a little rattled.

And Faith had overstepped her bounds by admitting that she’d listened to the entire conversation. She didn’t want Robin to think she was nosy and touched the woman’s arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No worries.” Robin smiled.

“Good.”

“Faith Elaine, you stepping up here or what?” The teller used the same tone in her voice as Faith’s mom when she was in trouble.

“Yes, ma’am.” Faith gave Robin a mock look of fright. “My turn.”

Robin laughed and waved goodbye.

Faith finished her business of a deposit of the last paycheck she’d receive for a while. As a violinist in Bozeman, she wasn’t needed until after Christmas when the regular concert series started up again. Only primary musicians who’d been around a lot longer than Faith played at the upcoming Christmastime ballet.

She glanced behind her. Wilbur bent Dale’s ear and the real estate mogul looked bored to tears until a young blonde bombshell walked right up to both men and smiled.

Faith clenched her teeth. There was no denying the appreciation in Dale’s eyes when he looked at the beautiful Lilibeth Shoemaker.

“Here you go, Faith. And watch out, Lilibeth is checking out your fella.” The teller finished her deposit transaction with a smile.

“He’s not mine, but thanks.” Faith scanned the balance on her receipt and fought the urge to keep walking right out the door. That would be rude. And show her weakness.

She joined the cozy party of three.

Lilibeth gave her a sweet smile. “Why, Faith, I was just asking Mr. Thompson if he needed Christmas help this year and come to find out we have a real live Massey in our midst.”

“Yeah, we do.” Faith gripped her purse strap so tight her fingers curled into a fist around the leather.

Lilibeth placed her hand on Dale’s arm and leaned toward him with a ridiculously brilliant smile. “Are there any more of you?”

“Not here.” He looked amused.

Lilibeth made a pouty face. “Too bad.”

Dale looked at Faith. “Ready?”

“Yep.” She tamped down a heady feeling of triumph when she saw Lilibeth’s mouth drop slightly open. “Bye, and thanks, Wilbur.”

“Of course, of course.” The manager fixed his attention back on the girl. “Now, Lilibeth, what hours can you work?”

As she left the bank with Dale, Faith let loose a soft laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Dale opened the driver’s-side door for her.

“Nothing.” Faith shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

He climbed into the passenger seat. “Something to do with the prom queen in there?”

Not too many men gave Lilibeth the brush-off. Faith couldn’t remember if Lilibeth had ever made it to prom queen, but the girl was furious when she didn’t win the Miss Jasper Gulch beauty pageant. People wondered if she had been the one who stole the time capsule out of revenge. But over the past few months she seemed to have mellowed and had even helped out with the picnic basket auction. Most everyone now believed she was innocent.

Faith cocked her head. “She was trying to flirt with you and you shut her down.”

“A lot of women flirt with me.”

No doubt, but Faith still raised her eyebrows at such a conceited response. “And you don’t flirt back?”

He gave her a silky smile that made her heart beat a notch faster. “Of course I do. But I have rules.”

Faith let loose a snort of laughter. A flirt with a moral code. “What kind of rules could you possibly have?”

He looked genuinely offended. “First, they’ve got to be old enough to know better.”

“Ah, well, that’s sensible. Lilibeth’s only nineteen.” How could he tell? Faith couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“And second.” Dale’s green eyes looked deadly serious. “They must be safe.”

“Safe?” Faith scrunched up her face.

What on earth did he mean by that? What did he have to fear? Maybe Dale wasn’t the heartbreaker type. He seemed too cold to get involved with a woman long enough for that. And too sophisticated, besides. She imagined that Dale Massey didn’t like messy breakups. He struck her as something of a neat freak to boot. No doubt anything messy made him uncomfortable.

He nodded. “Safe.”

“Huh.” Faith started the car.

Did women throw themselves at him because of who he was as heir to the Massey empire? Probably. But he’d flirted with her. Did that mean she was safe? She swallowed hard on that disappointing thought.

No, wait. Safe was good. She should be happy with safe.

She glanced at his finely chiseled face. “Do you need anything before we leave town? More coffee, perhaps? There’s a nice bakery across the street if you’re hungry.”

“No.”

“I have granola bars in my purse. Let me know if you want one.”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

What—too good for granola bars? Faith pulled out and hung a left onto River Road and then pulled into the corner gas station.

“Here—” Dale handed her his credit card “—have them fill it up. I got this.” Then his phone vibrated and he answered it, already absorbed. “Dale Massey.”

Faith took the card and flipped the inside lever to her gas cap and got out. This was his trip, after all; she’d gladly let him pay for her gas. She didn’t know who he thought they were to pump it.

“Faith!”

She looked up as her friend since grade school, Marie Middleton, exited the minimart with a tall vanilla latte. Her favorite. “What’s up?”

“Had to make a delivery of flowers.”

“Really, who to?”

Marie gave her a look. “You know I can’t tell you. Customer privacy policy.”

“Awww, come on. Who are they from then? At least tell me that.”

Marie looked around and then whispered, “Ellis Cooper.”

Faith laughed.

The guy had run against her father in the last mayoral race. No doubt Ellis sent flowers to impress someone. With all the dignitaries in town for homecoming, the recipient could be anyone, really.

Ellis had championed the bridge fund to get votes, but Faith didn’t buy his sincerity for the project. He’d be the kind of guy who’d want the bridge named after him once it opened. If he’d had the means to fund it, then take the name and the glory. But Cooper Bridge didn’t have the same ring as good old Beaver Creek.

Marie squinted as she bent to look in Faith’s car. “Who’s the suit?”

Faith harnessed the gas nozzle back into the pump and waited for the receipt to print. “Dale Massey from New York.”

“So, he finally showed, huh?”

“Yup.” Faith ripped the paper.

“He’s pretty hot.” Marie grinned. “Where are you two going?”

“Lone Peak. Dad doesn’t want him wandering around the mountains by himself.” Faith lowered her voice. “I mean, just look at him.”

“Hmm. Not hard to do.” Marie wiggled her fingers. “Have fun.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

Not what Faith had meant. Dale had pampered city boy written all over him. She climbed in behind the wheel and handed Dale his plastic along with the receipt.

He took it without looking at her or missing a beat of his phone conversation.

Faith pulled back onto Main Street and headed east out of town and toward the mountains while Dale talked on his phone about attorney fees.

After he’d ended his call, Dale stared out the window. Not exactly a talkative guy.

“Why not take that bridge? Seems like a more direct route.”

Faith sighed. “The Beaver Creek Bridge has been out of commission forever.”

“Why?”

Faith shrugged. “It’s a sore spot with some people. My father included.”

“What happened?”

“My great-aunt died when her car slid off the bridge into the rapids below. Her body was never found.”

“That’s the reason no one uses it?”

Faith gave another soft laugh. “It must sound silly to a big-city guy like you, but Lucy Shaw’s accident was substantial drama in little Jasper Gulch. Rumor had it she didn’t want to marry the man her father had picked out, so maybe she drove off that bridge. Investigating the accident first closed it, but then folks didn’t use it and the bridge fell into disrepair.

“We’re trying to raise money, but haven’t gotten close to what’s needed for renovation. My brother Cord is on the town council and leading the charge. But, because my father would rather see it torn down, some folks side with him. Kinda funny that the time capsule was found near the bridge, considering the ruckus over it.” She shrugged. “Jasper Gulch needs to grow regardless.”

“Tax base drying up?”

Faith nodded. “Some businesses think they can’t make it here with so few people. So, it’s a vicious cycle. Kids leave for college or whatever and don’t come back. That’s why this centennial celebration is so important. It puts Jasper Gulch on the tourist map. Hopefully.”

“With only one long way in and out, this town will get overlooked by tourists.”

Again, Faith nodded. “One of the reasons for last month’s Old-Tyme Wedding. Other than giving me a new brother-in-law and sister-in-law, the event gave folks a glimpse of what we have here. Hopefully more exposure to tourists than a website or looking at a map. The Bozeman TV spot got picked up nationally.”

“I didn’t see it.”

Faith increased speed on the open stretch of road. “Fifty couples got married at once. Cord’s got a copy of the ceremony. I can show you.”

Dale’s eyelids lowered with distaste. “That’s okay.”

Faith chewed her bottom lip. She must sound like a real bumpkin going on and on about her little town.

She glanced at Dale again.

He checked his phone, snorted and shoved it back in his pocket.

“No coverage out here. Probably none till we get to Lone Peak. I’m sure the resort has Wi-Fi.” Why was he meeting someone way out here anyway?

Dale stared out the window. “This is desolate country.”

Faith didn’t think so. “I’ve always thought of it as vibrant and teeming with life.”

“You want vibrant? Come to New York.” Pride rang in his voice.

“No, thank you.” Faith shook her head. “I tried city life once. It wasn’t for me.”

“Where?” His voice challenged.

“Seattle.”

“Hmm. Cool city. Artsy.”

She’d managed to impress him. A little.

Faith had discovered the ugly side of the arts and men who took advantage. Not willing to sell her soul, she packed up and came home. She’d never felt more like a naive country bumpkin than when she fell for her mentor in Seattle while trying to make something of her music. “Parts of it.”

“What lured you there?” He gave her a slanted smile. “A man?”

“No.” Faith laughed. “A job, but it didn’t work out.”

Dale gave her a long look but didn’t dig. “For a girl who doesn’t drink coffee, Seattle must have been a scary place.”

“What makes you think I don’t drink coffee?” They were in the mountains now, and Faith concentrated on the winding road.

“You only drank orange juice this morning.”

“A small thing to notice.” Faith shrugged.

“I’m in the business of noticing small things.”

Faith’s heartbeat picked up speed. So, the guy paid attention to details. But something about the silky softness of his voice made her wonder if she was the small thing he noticed.

Part of her hoped so.

And part of her didn’t.

“Well, I drink coffee, but I’d had my fill before breakfast.” She had to remember that she was safe.

It dawned on her that safe meant no threat of serious entanglement. She wasn’t worth pursuit of anything more than flirtation. Not in the life of Dale Massey.

She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d summed him up pretty good yesterday. And really, she wanted no part of a guy like him. The world was littered with them. So, why the nugget of hurt lodged in her heart?

* * *

Dale stared at the snow-covered mountains filled with people skiing, getting an early jump on the holiday. One of several resorts in the Big Sky area, this place shone like a gem in the warm Montana sunshine. This was the kind of place he was used to, and no doubt perfect for Eric to set up shop. Maybe then the kid would finally ease his way into the Massey real estate business. But Dale had his doubts.

He got out of the car and stretched his legs. The mayor had been right. His rental never would have made the drive here, not the way Faith had taken them, plus she’d shaved a good half hour in drive time going through the mountains instead of around them on the interstates.

He poked his head back into the interior. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be, where do you want to meet?”

Faith shrugged. “Right here is fine.”

“You’re not going to stay in your car.”

“I’ve got a good book, and the sun’s shining. I’ll be fine.”

Dale shook his head and pulled out his wallet. “Take my credit card and buy whatever you want.”

Her expressive eyes widened and she held up her hand. “Put that away. I am not using your card.”

He’d offended her. “You let me buy the gas.”

“That was different.”

He tipped his head. What did she think he offered? “You should be compensated for your time. I’m taking up a good chunk of your day.”

Faith shook her head and pulled out her book. “Forget it.”

Letting the argument slide, he handed her his business card. “Here’s my cell if you need to get a hold of me.”

“I won’t.” She took the business card though, and then buried her nose in the pages of a paperback.

Dale chuckled as he walked away. He’d managed to ruffle Miss Shaw’s pretty feathers. Women were fickle that way. Finding insult when he merely wanted to repay her for her time. If he’d wanted a more interesting transaction between them, he would have been candid. Dale didn’t play games. Faith Shaw struck him as honest, too, but in a pure and simple sort of way. She wasn’t the kind of girl for anything more than a pleasant flirtation.

* * *

By the time Dale finished touring the office space for sale, he knew it was technically perfect for their needs and exactly what his father had wanted. But Dale didn’t jump on the offer. A gut feeling prevented him from purchasing the property—something he didn’t know what to name other than a profound sense of dissatisfaction with the whole deal.

Instincts were a big part of what he did, so he knew when to listen. Today, he’d stand down and wait. He shook the guy’s hand, promised to get back to him and walked away.

And then he called the office. “Jeannie, where are we with those closings scheduled for next week? On task? Good, put me through to my father’s voice mail.” Dale waited for the connection. Julian was on his way halfway across the world, but he’d still want an update. “Not confident on this property. I think we can do better.”

Dale scanned the surrounding high-end shops. Faith had been correct in her assessment that he’d overdressed. There was money here, big money, but the atmosphere remained casual. Relaxed. Typical of a vacation resort.

Maybe she’d help him pick up a few things while they were here. Some jeans. He’d talk her into something for herself, too. He wouldn’t mind seeing her dressed for an evening out. His stomach growled.

Lunch first, then shopping.

As he approached Faith’s SUV, he found himself smiling. The driver’s seat reclined and the window was open a crack for air, and Faith slept in the surprisingly warm sunshine. The paperback novel—a romance, he realized—lay open on her midsection. Her long auburn hair draped the headrest, exposing a pretty expanse of white neck. He thought about kissing that skin. How could he not?

He nearly laughed when he thought of her indignant reaction when he’d offered her his credit card. What would she do if he kissed her? It might be worth it to find out.

With a soft creak of metal, he slowly opened her door, shaking his head that she’d left it unlocked. But his amusing idea died the moment he really looked at her. She was beautiful in a natural way, like raw sugar. Unrefined and sweet. Vulnerable. She was the mayor’s daughter. His host. Making her pretty much off limits.

She sighed and shifted. Her lips were certainly tempting. Maybe too tempting.

Dale shook her shoulder instead. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Her eyes opened and Faith looked dreamy and soft. The corners of her wide mouth curled into a sleepy smile. “What time is it?”

“Time for lunch.” His voice sounded oddly tender to his ears. He wanted to push back her hair but rested his hand on the car’s roof. “Did I interrupt a good dream?”

Her blue eyes focused and she sat up with a start. Her book fell to ground.

Dale picked it up and handed it back to her.

Faith tossed the book in the backseat. “Sorry. The sun was so warm, I fell asleep.”

He chuckled. “I noticed.”

She blushed.

He held the door for her, liking this girl. Sure, she’d talked his ear off, but there was something open about her. Nothing disguised or put on. “Come on. The least I can do is buy you lunch.”

Looking deliciously tousled, Faith slid out of the car and finger combed her hair. “Lunch, yeah. I could eat.”

Dale couldn’t ignore the avalanche of awareness coursing through him, making him light-headed. Hunger did that to a person. Despite not being a big morning eater, he shouldn’t have skipped breakfast. These unsettling feelings were nothing more than hunger. Plain and simple.

* * *

Faith stifled a yawn as she slipped into the chair held out for her by the restaurant host. “Thank you.”

The host nodded but didn’t look impressed, with a pinched nose and thin smile.

Faith looked around. A casual place when it came to customer dress, but everything about it screamed expensive. A fancy wine collection covered one of the brick walls. White linen tablecloths complete with fresh flowers graced the tables. Yup, expensive.

Dale checked his phone and texted, oblivious to the disdainful looks he received from the maître d’. Dale accepted the menu without a word. He was used to being waited on, probably in places even nicer than this.

“How’d your meeting go?” Faith couldn’t take the silence, or the uncomfortable feeling that she’d crashed someone else’s party.

He pocketed his phone. “Went well.”

By the tight look on his face, she’d guess it didn’t. “You don’t look happy.”

He flashed a smile, signaling a change of subject. “What do you say we do some shopping after we eat? You were right, I need casual clothes.”

She frowned. He didn’t want to talk business, and that was okay by her as long as they talked about something. Anything to keep her mind off the dream she’d had of him while sleeping in the car. “What are you looking to buy?”

“Jeans. Maybe some boots, so I don’t have to use your brother’s. There are quite a few shops here.”

Faith snorted. “You’ll pay through the nose.”

He cocked an arrogant eyebrow. Money wasn’t an issue.

Faith gulped her water. Then she looked him straight in his handsome face. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Name it.”

She took a deep breath. “Would you shop in Jasper Gulch instead?”

“I didn’t see a clothing store.”

Faith grinned. “Our hardware store has a clothing section. Boots, jeans, socks, shirts. Anything you might need for the outdoors or casual rugged living.” She quoted their advertisement and then added. “The Walkers could really use the patronage.”

Faith knew they’d increased their inventory because of the centennial celebrations, hoping to appeal to shoppers and increase business.

He narrowed his gaze, zeroing in on her again. “Sure. On our way back.”

She twisted her napkin in her lap. “Great, thanks.”

His green eyes softened. “You’re welcome.”

Faith shifted her attention to the menu, but the words blurred out of focus. She felt his gaze still on her. “What?”

“You really care about your town, don’t you?”

Silly question. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“But you genuinely care. It’s your nature, isn’t it? Caring.”

What was he getting at? And why did he look at her as if she was an interesting new toy? A plaything. Dale Massey probably discarded new toys as a kid once the novelty wore off and his interest waned. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did the same thing as an adult.

Faith pulled out the big guns with ammo she knew from experience had the power to dampen a man’s ardor in a hurry. “The Bible says love thy neighbor as thyself. In Jasper Gulch, that isn’t too hard to do. Most of the time.”

Dale’s brow furrowed and then he laughed. It was a deep, belly-rolling sound she’d never have expected to come out of a New York prince. “Nice move, Faith.”

She stared at him.

“I’m trying to figure you out and you quote scripture. Good blocking maneuver.”

No sense denying it. “Well, quit trying to figure me out.”

“Why?”

Because you make me uncomfortable and my heart races when you smile. Because I dreamed of kissing you.

Faith didn’t voice her thoughts. She didn’t have to because the waiter dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants chose that moment to arrive and take their orders.

Without hesitation, she asked for a well-done cheeseburger, fries and a pop. Dale did the same. Smiling at her with that secret-sharing smile all because they’d ordered the same thing. It made her stomach flutter. Ridiculous man! He poured on the charm a little too thick.

After the waiter left and returned with their soft drinks, Dale leaned forward. “Why don’t you date your young minister? He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.” Faith sipped her pop. “But he’s not my type.”

“What’s your type?” The flirtatious glint was back in his eyes.

And that was a good thing. It meant she was safe. Scripture always came to the rescue when needed. Faith tipped her head and raised her glass. “I’ll let you know when I meet him.”

Dale’s smile grew wider.

And Faith’s stomach dropped. She had a bad feeling she may have misspoken, because Dale Massey was exactly her type.

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