Marrying Mr. Wright, page 19
part #3 of Mysterious Ways Series
“Really?”
He nodded and met her gaze.
A relieved, broad smile brightened her face. “I’m glad to hear all of this. Carrie’s teased me about watching you through the living room windows.” A pretty blush touched porcelain cheeks.
“She has, has she?”
Amber nodded.
“That’s a huge relief. I’m glad I’m not the only one going gaga.”
She burst out laughing. “I guess we can go crazy together, too, huh?”
“Sounds reasonable to me.” Ben grinned. “So, you want to see some more of town before we head home?”
“Sure.”
He pushed open the truck door, slid to the ground, and turned to offer his hand.
Amber put hers in it and slid out.
~ ~ ~
Seated on the floor next to the cold fireplace, a lamp burning near her shoulder, Carrie glanced up from a book she was reading. “So? Did you two have fun?”
Amber smiled. “We did.” Understatement of my lifetime, but Carrie doesn’t need to know that. She held up the wrapped frame. “I found a prize for the bedroom.”
“Oo, show me!” Carrie dropped her book on the floor and climbed to her feet.
They went into the kitchen. Amber flipped the switch as they passed it, laid the package on the table, carefully removed the wrapping, and stepped back to let Carrie get a good look.
“It’s perfect.”
“I thought so, too. Any sign of Heather yet?”
Carrie shook her head and yawned. “I’ll try to talk to her in the morning. She’ll probably throw something at me, but at least we’ll be sure she’s alive.” She grinned.
With a deep breath, Amber forced out the next words. “How’d wedding planning go?”
“Fabulous. Macy and I talked about the dress. She said she knows exactly what to order. She’s putting a rush on it.”
Amber swallowed hard. Lord, help me keep my feet planted.
“Avery had some great, simple ideas that won’t take a lot of time or preparation.”
Grateful for the distraction her friend had inadvertently handed her, Amber raised her eyebrows. “Avery?”
Carrie blushed.
Amber couldn’t recall the last time her friend had actually blushed. “Do you have the hots for the pastor?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cheeks reddened even further.
“You do!”
Carrie heaved a heavy sigh. “Alright. Yes. I do. He’s not only good-looking, he’s smart and way too nice for his own good.” She frowned and muttered, “Must be something in the water. These men….”
“Sooo? Now what?”
“Nothing.”
Amber frowned. “Nothing?”
“Exactly. Nothing.” Carrie shook her head. “Not only does he live in Wyoming and I live in Illinois, he’s a farmer and a pastor. I mean, come on, could you see me as a cowboy-preacher’s wife?” She rolled her eyes and shuddered. “Do you have any idea how horribly pastor’s wives are treated? Not to mention the fact everyone watches your every move, just waiting for you to screw up so they can talk ugly about you. No, thanks!”
“Chicken.” Not that I blame her.
“Cluck, cluck.”
Amber laughed.
Carrie sighed. “Enough of this pointless chatter. I’m going to bed.”
“I’m right behind you.”
“No visit with Ben tonight?”
Amber shook her head. “We’ll pick it up again tomorrow evening.” She turned the lamp off as they passed it.
“G’night.”
“Goodnight, Carrie.”
She tiptoed into the room she still shared with Heather. Her friend was sound asleep with her back to the door. Amber grabbed nightclothes and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Hopefully she’ll be ready to talk in the morning.
Chapter 15
Monday, May 31, 2010
Morning sent streaks of light around the curtains on the windows, creating plays of shadows throughout the room.
Amber rolled over in bed to find herself alone. Not only had Heather gotten up, she’d left the room. A positive sign. Amber grabbed clothes and headed for the washroom. In minutes, she emerged, dropped her nightclothes on the bed, and padded on bare feet to the kitchen.
Caffeine. Must have caffeine. She relaxed at the sight of the half-full pot of coffee. Yes! Not as good as Dr. Pepper, but it’ll certainly do. Amber glanced around. No Carrie, and no Heather. Where had her friends gone? She filled a mug, took a strong sip, and searched for them. Nowhere in the house.
A rap on the front door startled her as she walked through the living room.
The door opened partway, and Ben peered around it. “You decent?”
Her heart skipped a beat, which had nothing to do with being startled or afraid, but everything to do with the handsome face and dark eyes smiling at her. She grinned. “If not, it wouldn’t matter right this moment, now would it?”
“True, that.” He pushed the door open farther and filled the doorframe. “What’s on your agenda today?”
“Painting. Lots and lots of painting”—she wrinkled her nose—“and not the fun kind. Are the monkeys easily trained for that?”
Ben chuckled. “It depends.”
“On?”
“How nicely you want it done.” He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “Have you looked at the stable? We painted it. From a distance, it looks great. Up close, not so much.”
“Note to self, don’t hire trained monkeys for painting.”
He laughed.
“Have you seen my AWOL friends, by any chance?”
“They went for a walk toward town about a half hour ago. I haven’t seen them return yet.”
“Did Heather appear to go willingly?”
Puzzlement crossed his face. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t see evidence of coercion. Carrie wasn’t dragging her, and there was no gun to her head or anything.”
Amber sighed. “Hopefully that means she’s finally talking.”
“I’m kind of surprised it’s not you talking to her. Carrie doesn’t seem like the best choice for handling an issue as sensitive as this one seems to be.”
“You’d be surprised. Carrie’s a good listener and generally gives wise counsel. Not to mention she has a really annoying habit of asking very pointed, important questions.”
His brows shot up. “I wouldn’t consider telling people what they’re going to do to be counsel. She is the reason we’re getting married this Friday, you recall.”
She laughed. “That’s a whole different situation.”
“If you say so.” He glanced over his shoulder then turned back to her. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Well, we talked about building you a studio. I brought in someone to help accomplish that.” He stepped into the room then motioned to someone behind him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Travis Walker crossed the threshold, hat in hand and a hesitant smile on his face. “If Ben’s about to be shot, give me some warning so I can run.”
Amber chuckled. “No. No shooting.”
“Phew.” Travis wiped nonexistent sweat from his brow and grinned.
“Some friend you are,” Ben teased.
“Hey, buddy, I’m not about to get between a guy and his woman, especially if she has a gun. Do I look stupid to you?”
Apparently Trevor isn’t the only Walker with an off-beat sense of humor.
Ben grinned at Amber. “I probably shouldn’t answer that.” He touched her arm. “I know you could probably do the design without help, but you’ve worked so hard on the house, I wanted to bring help at least for designing the basic structure of the studio. Travis works with an architect in Cheyenne.”
“Really?” She wasn’t sure whether to find that reassuring or discouraging. He doesn’t work for my father. Let it go.
Travis half-smiled. “Don’t let Ben kid you. I do some work for him occasionally, but only on a limited basis.”
“Makes good money at it,” Ben added with a knowing glance.
“Anyway”—the rancher shot his friend a quelling look—“the architect helps me out with blueprints when I need them. Ben thought I might be able to help you with that. I can also assist with the building permit process. The staff at the county office knows me well, and I know the local regs.”
“Cool.” Big positive there. Paperwork wasn’t her strong suit. Carrie usually handled it. A crash course in local building regulations hadn’t appealed either.
Ben’s grip on her arm tightened for a moment. “You’re really okay with me bringing Travis in?”
“Sure. I’m more than happy to hand off the plan design to someone else.” She gave him a wide, relaxed smile to reinforce her words, so Ben wouldn’t worry.
One of his heart-thumping smiles appeared, erasing the lines marring his forehead. “Glad to hear it. I want to make things as easy as possible for you, but I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be controlling.”
“It’s okay. I know that’s not you,” she said softly.
“Good.” He nodded. “I’ll leave you two to chat. You can show Travis where you’d like the studio.”
“You’re not going to stick around, so you know what we’re up to?”
He shook his head with an easy smile. “Remember, I trust your judgment.”
“That could come back to bite you one day.”
“I doubt it.” He kissed her temple as though it was the most natural thing in the world, released her, and quickly left.
Amber watched him go, waiting for her skipping heart to settle down. Even Ben’s most innocent touches had the power to jolt her. Does he know that? Forcing her gaze to the man still in the room, she got another start of a less pleasant variety.
Frowning, Travis studied her thoughtfully. Intensely. Long enough to make her nervous.
Oh, no…. What if he’s heard the rumors and believes them? “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “It’s just… you’ve been good for him.”
“Really?” That’s where his thoughts had been? Relief coursed through her.
“He’s happier than I’ve seen him in years.”
Amber shrugged. “I haven’t done anything.”
“You obviously have.” A soft smile curved his mouth. “Whatever it is, keep doing it. He deserves to be happy.” A shadow passed over his face but cleared quickly.
She looked away, unable to think of a single response.
The silence grew increasingly awkward.
Travis cleared his throat. “Nice changes you’re making in here. I like the new windows.”
She glanced up to find Travis scrutinizing the living room. “I hope to replace all of them eventually, as we redo each room.”
He moved to the fireplace, leaned closer to study it, and stepped back, still looking it over. “I had no idea there were so many colors in the stones in this old fireplace.”
“It had a lot of soot and dust on it. Needs to be dusted again, since we sanded the floor, but it’s much better.”
He pointed to a couple of cans of paint sitting on the floor against the wall nearby. “Is that the paint for this room?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice sage,” he surprised her by saying.
The man knows colors?
“Soft without being too feminine. It won’t overwhelm the space but will add color. Very nice choice.” His mouth twisted in something akin to disgust. “Please tell me you’re not putting the old furniture back in here.”
“We’re not putting the old furniture back in here,” Amber responded in monotone then grinned at his soft chuckle. “We have to go into Rock Springs tomorrow to return the buffer Carrie rented to do the floors. We plan to shop for furniture. Probably have it delivered later this week if we can sweet-talk them into it.”
“What’ve you got in mind? Nothing floral, I hope.”
Definite disgust that time. She bit back a laugh. “No, though I probably should just to offend you and every other male in the county.”
He grimaced. “That’d do it.”
“I’m actually thinking along the lines of thick leather, so it’ll stand up to a lot of years of use and abuse and be easy to clean.” She waved a hand to indicate the room. “I want Ben and his men to be as comfortable in here as they are in the bunkhouse. I’m thinking I’ll need more than one couch to make sure there’s enough seating.”
Travis moved to the center of the space and made a 360-degree turn. “This room is big enough and laid out well enough, I think you could easily get away with two couches and a loveseat. Have the couches either side of the fireplace, coming toward the center of the room, and put a loveseat between their ends instead of a chair. That would give you plenty of room for a coffee table, too.”
“That reminds me. I could use input on something else. Ben said he doesn’t care one way or the other.” She waved him to follow her. “Maybe you’ll have an opinion.”
“Probably. I do about most things.”
“Good.” Amber led him to the kitchen. She’d put the old coffee table in the dining room against one wall. “This is the original coffee table. I’m thinking about keeping it, but it’s pretty banged up, so I’ve debated—refinish, paint, or get a new one. Thoughts?”
Travis knelt and checked it over. “Well, it looks solid. It’s not falling apart or rickety. It’s big, so it would fit perfectly if you do the pair of couches with a loveseat. You’re right though, the top is pretty mangled.” He ran a hand over it. “What about refinishing the base and then covering the top.”
“You mean, like with tile or mosaic? Wouldn’t that be a bit much with the smaller stones in the fireplace? Might be too busy.”
“Not if you use something like slabs of flagstone.”
She smiled. “You’re right. Flagstone would be great for that! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I’m so glad I asked you. Want to see the master suite? It’s on our way to where I’d like the studio, anyway.”
“Sure.” Travis shrugged and got to his feet.
~ ~ ~
Ben halted a client’s gelding near Travis’ truck as the other man dug around in the cab. “How’s it going?”
“Good. She’s got great ideas, and they’re generating a few in my own head.” Travis slid out of the driver’s seat with his hands full. He grinned. “I told her I generally work alone.”
“What’d she say?”
“She’s going to let me come up with the structural design, but I have to conspire with her on all the interior stuff.”
“Are you okay with that? I mean, you have to admit, you do have control-freak tendencies.”
Travis scowled. “I can compromise when I need to.”
Ben chuckled. “I should hope so.” Humor fled. “Please, be careful with her. She’s had too many people try to dictate her life, she doesn’t need another. Okay?”
“I’ll watch my p’s and q’s, Dad, I promise.”
Though he understood the sarcasm, he didn’t particularly appreciate it. “Travis, I’m serious.”
Travis sighed. “I know you are. I’ll be careful. I don’t want to upset her, any more than you want her upset. Don’t worry. I do know how to behave.” He lifted the stuff in his hands. “I better get back, so we can take measurements.”
“Okay.” He reined the gelding toward the stable. Time to brush him down good and work on his tolerance for having his feet handled.
“By the way.”
He halted the horse and twisted around to look back at Travis. “Yeah?”
“She’s designing the studio with a spot for a nursery-slash-play area.” Travis grinned. “I thought you’d like to know.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the house without waiting for a response.
Ben straightened in the saddle and smiled. So, Amber’s thinking that far ahead. A good sign, to be sure. A very good sign.
~ ~ ~
“Do you think it’ll be too big if we build it out to here?” Amber stopped and turned to face the back of the house.
From the porch, Travis frowned in thought then paced off the distance from the house to her. “I don’t think so. Even if it is, better to be too big than too small. If you have a studio with more space than you need, no problem. If you end up with one that lacks room, that could be a real problem.”
“Good point.”
He smiled. “Ben told me you get whatever your heart desires. Period.”
She turned away in an attempt to hide the tears that flooded her eyes.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “What’d I say?”
She shook her head and looked out over the northern horizon with its sweeping view of the mountains. “It’s just… other than Carrie and Heather, no one’s ever taken my art seriously. Ben suggesting this….” Amber swallowed hard in an attempt to stifle rising emotion and returned her gaze to Travis. “I’ve dreamed for years about having a studio where I could work and leave my mess. I’ve always had to put things away every time I pull them out. Never had a space to call mine with total freedom to just create. This… is a dream-come-true.”
Travis shifted his weight from one foot to the other but didn’t retreat. His smile remained, though less confident with a worried edge. “Ben wants to support your dreams.”
“I know.” She laughed to mask a sob that shook her. “I never expected him to, much less to do it with such gusto.”
“Yeah, well, Ben doesn’t usually do things by half measures.” He smiled. “Now, what say we finish measurements, so I can start on the designs?”
Amber wiped her eyes and nodded.
“Hold the end of this.” Travis handed her the tip of a measuring tape and headed for the house.
Chapter 16
Thursday, June 3, 2010
The scuff of booted feet and the steady, slow clomp of horse hooves on the dirt stilled the brush in Ben’s hand.
