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Mcfarlane’s Perfect Bride

Christine Rimmer

Taming the Montana Millionaire

Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Mcfarlane’s Perfect Bride

Christine Rimmer

Dear Reader,

One thing in life is certain: change. Times are a little tougher in Thunder Canyon, Montana lately. The boom created by the gold rush a few years ago is over. And Thunder Canyon Resort, which once gave Vail and Aspen a run for the money, is struggling to stay afloat.

Corporate shark and East Coast power player Connor McFarlane has been going through a few changes himself lately. He’s in town for the summer to get to know his estranged fifteen-year-old son and make amends with his sister, Melanie. There’s also a rumour he’s engineering a takeover of Thunder Canyon Resort.

Connor intends to meet his goals for this Montana summer and go. Until he meets schoolteacher Tori Jones. A recent bitter divorce has left him wanting nothing to do with love. And he never plans to marry again.

But Tori Jones is a very special woman—just possibly the perfect woman for him.

Happy reading, everyone.

Yours,

Christine Rimmer

About the Author

CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a sales clerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves, who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oklahoma. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.

For all you teachers out there.

The work you do is the most important work there is.

Chapter One

The doorbell rang just as Tori Jones set the snack tray on the breakfast nook table. “Help yourselves.” She gave her star student, Jerilyn Doolin, a fond smile and sent a nod in the direction of Jerilyn’s new friend, CJ. “There’s juice in the fridge.”

Jerilyn pushed her chair back. “Thanks, Ms. Jones.”

The doorbell chimed again. “I’ll just see who that is.” Tori hurried to answer.

She’d made it halfway through her great room to the small foyer when the pounding started. Hard. On the door. The bell rang again, twice, fast. Followed by more pounding. Alarm jangled through her at the loud, frantic sounds. Was there a fire?

“All right, all right. I’m coming, I’m coming …” She yanked the door wide on a tall, hot-looking guy in designer jeans and high-dollar boots.

Before she could get out a yes-may-I-help-you, the guy growled, “That’s my son’s skateboard.” With a stabbing motion of his index finger, he pointed. Tori peered around the door frame at the skateboard that Jerilyn’s friend had left propped against the porch wall. “Do you have my son here?” the stranger demanded.

Have him? Like she’d kidnapped the boy or something? Tori felt her temper rise.

She tamped it down by reminding herself that the angry man in front of her was probably scared to death. And then she spotted the gorgeous, gas-guzzling SUV parked at the curb. Had he been driving up one street and down another looking for a sign of his lost child? Thunder Canyon, Montana, wasn’t a big city. But the streets would have to seem endless to a man frantically searching for his missing kid.

“I asked you a question.” The man raked his fingers back through thick, expertly cut auburn hair.

Tori schooled her voice to a calmness she didn’t feel. “Is your son’s name CJ?”

“That’s right.” The man seemed on the verge of grabbing her and shaking her until she produced the boy. “Is he here? “

“Yes, he is. He’s—” With a startled cry, she jumped back as the guy barged into her house.

“Where?” He snarled the word at her. “Take me to him. Now.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t—”

Oh, but he could. He was already past her, striding boldly into her great room, shouting, “CJ, damn it! CJ!”

Jerilyn and CJ appeared from the kitchen, both wide-eyed. But as soon as CJ caught sight of the furious man, he put on a scowl. “Sheesh, Dad. Chill.”

“What is the matter with you?” Mr. Hotshot stopped where he was and started lecturing his son. “I had no clue where you had gotten off to. You know you are not to leave the house without telling Gerda where you’re going.”

CJ’s face flamed. He stared down at the hardwood floor, his shaggy hair falling forward to cover his red cheeks. “Come on, Dad,” he muttered. “I was only—”

“And what about your phone? You promised me you wouldn’t go off without your phone.”

“Like it even works in the canyon.” The boy was still talking to the floor.

“Speak up,” his father demanded. “I can’t hear you.”

CJ, who had seemed a normal, reasonably friendly teenager before his dad showed up, clamped his mouth shut now. He refused to even look at his father.

Tori realized she’d been standing there speechless for too long. She needed to calm the father down and diffuse the considerable tension. “Listen, why don’t we all go into the kitchen and—”

“No, thanks.” CJ’s dad cut her off with an absent wave of his hand. “We’re going. Come on, CJ. Now.” He turned for the door. The boy followed him out, head low, feet dragging.

Tori longed to stop them, to get them to speak civilly to each other, at least, before they took off. But she knew that was only her inner schoolteacher talking. In the end, she had no right to interfere. CJ seemed embarrassed by his dad, but not the least afraid of him. And she couldn’t see herself getting between father and son unless there was real cause. Overbearing rudeness just wouldn’t cut it as a reason to intervene.

Trailing after his dad, the boy went out into the June sunshine, pulling the door shut behind him. Tori and Jerilyn hardly moved until they heard the engine of that pricey SUV start up outside and drive away.

Jerilyn broke the echoing silence first. “CJ hates his dad.” She spoke wistfully. “I don’t get that. Yeah, his dad was mad. But at least he cares …”

A low sound of sympathy escaped Tori. Jerilyn’s mom had died of cancer the year before. Since then, her father walked around in a daze, emotionally paralyzed with grief. Butch Doolin used to dote on his only child. But not since he lost his wife. Jerilyn had confided in Tori that lately she wondered if her dad even knew she existed anymore.

Tori went to her and smoothed her thick black hair. “How ‘bout some cheese, whole-wheat crackers and fresh fruit?”

Jerilyn’s wistful expression faded. She giggled. “Ms. Jones, did you ever serve a snack that wasn’t healthy?”

“Not a chance.” She took the girl by the shoulders and turned her toward the kitchen.

As they sipped organic cranberry juice and nibbled on sliced apples and rennet-free white cheddar, Jerilyn talked about CJ. “I’ve seen him a couple of times before in the past week, riding his skateboard around Heritage Park. I never thought he’d notice me. But today, he stopped and we started talking.” A dreamy look made her dark eyes shine. “It was so strange, the way we connected, you know? It seemed like we could instantly tell each other everything. I felt so … comfortable with him. And, yeah, he dresses like a skater and he wears his hair long and all, but he’s very smart. He’s fifteen, same as me. He skipped fourth grade, just like I did.”

It was good to hear a little about the boy. Tori’d had no time to ask the pertinent questions before the furious father arrived.

She sipped her juice. “You really like him.”

Jerilyn smiled shyly. “I hope maybe I’ll see him again. He’s going to some expensive boarding school back east in the fall. But even if he stayed here in Thunder Canyon for school, he’d probably end up hanging with the rich, popular kids …”

Tori slid her glass across the table and clinked it with Jerilyn’s. “Uh-uh. Don’t go there. You have no reason to start beating yourself up. You’re every bit as good— and twice as pretty—as any girl at Thunder Canyon High.”

Jerilyn wrinkled her nose. “You say that ‘cause I’m smart and I understand Moby Dick better than most college students.”

“I say it ‘cause it’s true. Your being smart is a bonus.” She ate a strawberry. “I have to admit, though. I can’t help but love a student who stays on top of the reading list and writes a better essay than I can—and though we didn’t have much chance to talk, it definitely seemed to me that CJ liked you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Jerilyn.” Tori spoke sternly.

“Yes, Ms. Jones?”

“If I say it, I mean it.”

“Yes, Ms. Jones.” Jerilyn sighed. “You really think he likes me? “

“I do. I really do. And he seemed like a nice boy.”

“I’m so glad you liked him.” Jerilyn beamed.

Too bad his dad’s such a complete jerk, Tori thought, but didn’t say.

“Tall, good-looking, auburn-haired, buttoned-down. Obviously rich. Pushy. And rude?” asked Allaire Traub, who was Tori’s dearest friend.

Tori took the fruit and cheese tray from earlier that day out of the fridge and pulled off the plastic wrap. “That’s him.”

Allaire’s two-year-old, Alex, who sat on her lap, started chanting in a singsong. “Rude, rude, rude, rude …”

“Shh,” Allaire chided. She kissed his dark brown baby curls. Tori set the tray on the table and Allaire gave Alex a slice of apple.

“Apple. Yum,” said the little boy.

Tori slid into the chair opposite her friend. “So … you know him?”

“Well, I know of him.” Allaire rescued Alex’s sippy cup just as he was about to knock it to the floor. She kissed his cheek and commanded adoringly, “Eat your apple and sit still.”

“Apple, apple, apple, apple.” The little boy giggled. And then he stuck the slice of apple in his mouth. He was quiet. For the moment.

Tori prompted, “And his name is …?”

Allaire frowned. “Who?”

“Mr. Buttoned-down, Pushy and Rude?”

“Oh. Right. He’s Connor McFarlane, Melanie Chilton’s brother.”

Tori put her hands to her cheeks. “Of course. I should have known.” Melanie McFarlane had come to town three years ago determined to prove herself to her rich, snobby family. She’d ended up opening a guest ranch and marrying a local rancher, Russ Chilton. “Connor McFarlane. He runs the family empire, right?”

Allaire nodded. “McFarlane House Hotels.” She passed her son an orange wedge. “He’s here for the summer, with his son, Connor Jr.”

“Aka, CJ.”

“That’s right.” Allaire gave Alex his sippy cup—then took it away when he started to pound it on the edge of the table.

“I thought Melanie and her brother didn’t get along.”

“Rumor is they’re trying, you know? Connor’s been taken down a peg since the economy dipped. The way I heard it, McFarlane House had to pull back. A serious retrenchment. They closed a few hotels. The company is holding strong now, but not growing the way it was. And Connor’s personal fortune took a serious hit, though I understand he’s still a long way from the poorhouse. His wife dumped him. And CJ, formerly the perfect son, has been acting out. Melanie suggested that her brother and CJ come to Montana for the summer. Connor’s renting one of those big houses in New Town that all the newcomers built—and then tried to unload when the bottom fell out.”

In spite of herself, Tori felt sympathy rising. “His wife divorced him? “

Allaire nodded. “Pretty much out of nowhere, apparently. Story goes that she met someone richer.”

Tori shook her head. “How do you know all this stuff?”

Allaire lifted a delicate, gold-dusted eyebrow. “To many, I may seem merely a deceptively fragile-looking über-talented art teacher and loving wife and mother. But I also have my finger on the pulse of Thunder Canyon.”

“Because you’re married to DJ,” Tori said with a chuckle.

Allaire shrugged. “You know my husband. He makes it his business to keep an eye on the movers and shakers. Even if they’re supposedly only visiting for the summer.”

DJ Traub ran a successful chain of mid-priced restaurants with locations all over the western states. When he returned to town to stay a few years ago, he’d opened a DJ’s Rib Shack on-site at the sprawling, upscale Thunder Canyon Resort, which covered most of nearby Thunder Mountain. The resort gave Vail and Aspen a run for the money—or it had until the financial downturn. DJ knew everybody and what they were up to.

Alex waved his chewed orange rind. “DJ, DJ, that’s my daddy!”

“Oh, yes, he is.” Allaire hugged him close and said to Tori, “You are coming to the barbecue up at the resort Saturday, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I thought I’d bring Jerilyn.”

“Great. She’ll like that. It’s really good of you to look out for her.”

“It’s no hardship. She’s a joy to have around.”

Allaire gazed at Tori fondly. “She reminds you of yourself.”

“A little, maybe.” Tori had lost her mom when she was thirteen. Her dad had been really out of it for a while, trying to deal with the loss.

“And your dad got better, eventually.”

“Yes, he did.” Now she had a stepmother she loved and three half brothers ages ten, six and three.

“So there’s hope that Butch Doolin will pull it together.”

Tori was trying to think of something positive to say about Jerilyn’s dad when Alex started pounding his little fist in the table. “More juice,” the toddler commanded. Allaire put the cup in his chubby hand. This time, he actually drank from it. “Here, Mommy.” He gave the cup back. “I tired.” He set his apple core on the table and snuggled back into his mother’s arms. In seconds, he was fast asleep.

“Amazing,” said Tori with a doting smile.

Allaire made a tender sound of agreement as she smoothed his springy curls. Softly, so as not to wake him, she spoke of the small family reunion she and DJ were hosting out at their ranch that weekend. A couple of Traub cousins, wealthy ones, were coming up from Texas for the event. They would all be at the Rib Shack for the barbecue Saturday.

Tori still had Connor McFarlane on her mind. She asked in a near-whisper, “What do you mean, Connor’s ‘supposedly’ only visiting for the summer?”

Allaire set the sippy cup on the table. “Well, DJ says Connor’s been at the resort a lot. Chatting people up, nosing around. And Grant told DJ that Connor’s had dinner with Caleb Douglas out at the Douglas Ranch.” Caleb Douglas was co-owner of the resort. Grant Clifton managed the place, with help from Riley Douglas, Caleb’s son.

Tori frowned. “A takeover? I knew the resort was struggling lately. But would Caleb do that? The resort is his pride and joy.”

“Money’s short. Even the Douglases need to tighten their belts.”

“But I mean, would Caleb really sell?”

Allaire made a noncommittal noise in her throat. “Can’t say for sure. But something’s going on.”

“You’re going,” Connor said flatly. “And we’re late.”

CJ didn’t spare him so much as a glance. He was busy manipulating the black controller of his Xbox 360 Elite, wearing a headset so he could talk to whomever he was playing with online—and also shut his father out. On the flatscreen that took up half a wall of his bedroom, soldiers in WWII Army gear battled the Germans somewhere in a burned-out city in France. A tank lurched over rubble and belched fire as a building exploded and a couple of hapless Germans went flying in the air, faces contorted with fear.

Connor stood by the bed. His blood pressure had to be spiking. He wanted to shout, What the hell have you done with my son? He hardly knew this shaggy-looking, angry, sulky kid. The CJ he knew gazed at him with worshipful eyes and only wanted a chance to spend a little time with his busy, successful dad.

I will not shout. I will not rip those headphones off of his head.

Connor fisted his hands and counted to ten. And then he grabbed the TV remote off the bed and pointed it at the flatscreen.

The screen went black.

CJ slanted him a venomous look. “Turn it back on. Now.”

Connor did nothing of the sort. With a calmness he didn’t feel, he reached out and gently pulled the headset from CJ’s ears. “I told you we were going to the big summer kickoff barbecue.” The barbecue, at DJ’s Rib Shack up at the resort, presented a useful opportunity to get more face time with people he needed to know better—family and otherwise. “Your Aunt Melanie and Uncle Russ are going. Ryan, too.” Ryan Chilton, Russ’s son from his first marriage, was thirteen.

CJ groaned and tossed the controller aside. “I’m not babysitting Ryan.”

“No one said anything about babysitting. You will, however, behave in a civilized manner and treat your aunt and her family with respect.”

“I hate that kind of crap. ‘Big summer kickoff barbecue.’“ He chanted the words in an angry singsong. “Big whoop.”

Again, Connor reminded himself that shouting and threats had so far gotten him nowhere. He spoke with deadly mildness. “Fine. Stay home if you like. Stay home all summer. In this room. With no electronics.”

CJ blinked. “You would ground me forever for missing some dumb barbecue?”

“Try me.”

CJ glared at him. Connor stared steadily back.

And then, at last, CJ put down the remote. “Fine. Let’s go.” He jumped to his feet and headed for the door in his sloppy skater gear, which included ripped-out, sagging jeans, a wrinkled plaid shirt over a T-shirt that had seen better days. And dirty old-school tennis shoes with the laces undone.

Connor reminded himself that the barbecue was casual and he didn’t have time for a wardrobe battle.

CJ stopped in the doorway and turned with a glare. “Well? You coming or not?”

Connor straightened his sport jacket and gave a brisk nod. “Absolutely. I am right behind you.”

The resort was packed. People spilled out of the Rib Shack and filled up the huge central lobby of the main clubhouse.

Connor spotted Melanie, Russ and Ryan over by the lobby’s natural-stone fireplace, which was on a grand scale, like the rest of the clubhouse. Big enough to roast a couple of steers inside and still have room for an elk or three.

He hooked an arm around CJ’s shoulders to keep him from slipping off and worked his way through the crowd, spreading greetings as he went. Melanie saw him just before he reached her. She smiled and waved, her sleek red hair shining in the afternoon sun that beamed down from the skylights three stories overhead and flooded in the soaring wall of windows with its amazing view of the white-capped peak of Thunder Mountain.

She was a fine woman, his sister. And forgiving. All those years he’d looked down on her. And still, she’d welcomed him to her new hometown and seemed to want only to let bygones be bygones. She made him feel humble, an emotion with which he’d had no relationship until recently.

Russ gave him a cool nod. Ryan’s face split in a happy grin at the sight of his older cousin.

CJ squirmed a little under Connor’s firm grip and said loudly, “Well, we’re here. Can we eat?”

Ryan nodded eagerly. “In the Rib Shack. Come on, I’ll show you …”

Connor hesitated to let go of his son. “Stay in the building.”

“Sheesh, Dad. Awright, awright.”

“Stay with Ryan.”

“I will, I will.”

Melanie caught his eye. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Russ spoke to Ryan. “Get us a table if you can.”

“We will, Dad. Come on, CJ.” He bounded off through the crowd, headed for the Rib Shack. CJ followed, kind of shuffling along. Watching them go, Connor actually found himself envying Russ his happy, upbeat son.

Russ was watching the boys, too. “Job’s still open,” he said in that cryptic way he had.

The job in question was for CJ. Russ and Melanie had offered to hire him part-time for the summer, to work at Melanie’s guest ranch, the Hopping H. Russ thought a few hours a day mucking out stables or doing dishes in the ranch house would be good for him.

When Russ had made the initial offer, Connor had turned him down flat. The McFarlane offspring did not do dishes or clean up horse manure. Plus, at that point, Connor had still nurtured the fond hope that CJ might spend his summer catching up on his schoolwork. Just weeks before, the boy had almost been booted out of his expensive New York boarding school due to his suddenly plummeting grades.

However, in the eleven days they’d been in Thunder Canyon, Connor had not seen his son so much as pick up a book. CJ rode his skateboard around town, disappearing for hours at a time, worrying Connor half out of his mind. When he wasn’t vanishing into thin air, he sat in his room and played video games.

Connor had started to wonder if he should reconsider Russ’s job offer. He asked ruefully, “Mind if I think it over a little?”

Russ and Melanie shared a glance. And Russ answered in a neutral tone. “Take your time. The job will be there if you want him to have it.”

A big hand clapped Connor on the back. “Glad you came. Good to see you.”

He turned and greeted Caleb Douglas and his wife, Adele. Silver-haired with cool green eyes, Caleb had suffered poor health in recent years. He still had a booming voice and a hearty manner, but Connor could see the weariness in his face, the deep lines around his eyes. He was half owner of the resort, which meant he would feel duty-bound to show up for big events like this one.

But his heart wasn’t in it anymore. And times were tougher than they had been. Caleb could be convinced to sell. And Connor’s extensive research into the matter had led him to believe that Caleb’s silent partner would go along with whatever Caleb decided.

Yeah, Caleb would sell. Hopefully, before the summer was out.

And for a very reasonable price.

Caleb made small talk for a minute or two, then stepped in close to Connor while Adele chatted up Melanie and Russ.

The older man spoke low so only Connor could hear.

“Come on out to the ranch again. We’ll … talk some more.”

“I’d like that.” Connor smiled.

“Excellent—but next week’s no good. Adele’s dragging me to Hawaii.” Caleb grunted. “Lately Adele’s got some idea that we should travel more. But how about a week from Monday? Dinner, seven-thirty?”

“I’ll be there, thanks.”

A minute or two later, Caleb and his wife moved on.

Next, Grant Clifton appeared with his pretty wife, Stephanie, and a Clifton cousin, Beauregard, who was known as Bo.

Bo was good-looking and talkative, a rancher by trade—and a salesman by nature. “I think we need some fresh ideas in this old town. And that’s why I’m running for mayor.”

Grant laughed. “Come on, Bo. Against Arthur?”

“Arthur Swinton is a staunch conservative,” Melanie explained for Connor’s benefit.

Russ said, “Been in town politics for years.”

Grant added, “Arthur’s on the city council and he’s running for mayor. It’s pretty much a given he’s going to win.”

Bo laughed. “Nothing’s a given, cousin.”

Russ suggested dryly, “Don’t forget death and taxes.”

“You’re right,” agreed Bo. “And for the sales tax we pay around here, we should get more for our money.” Bo went on to explain in detail all the projects he planned to fight for when he won the election.

When Grant and Stephanie finally dragged Bo away, Melanie suggested they start moving in the general direction of the Rib Shack. Connor turned for the wide arch that led through to the restaurant and almost ran into the woman standing behind him.

Slim, with short, wispy, strawberry-blond hair, the woman wore a snug summer dress splashed with vivid pink flowers. He couldn’t see her face. She was turned the other way.

“Tori, hey,” said Melanie, who apparently knew her.

The woman turned to smile at his sister. But the smile faded when she saw him. She gazed up at him warily, through big, bright hazel eyes.

He stifled a groan of embarrassment as he remembered where he’d seen her before.

Chapter Two

Connor felt like a jerk.

Probably because he’d behaved like one the other day.

“Hello,” the woman named Tori said coolly.

Jones, he thought, scouring his brain for the information CJ had reluctantly given up when Connor had grilled him after he got the kid home on Thursday. Her name was Tori Jones and she taught English at the high school. “How are you?” he asked, for lack of anything more original to say.

“Just fine, thank you.” And then, finally, she did smile—over his shoulder, at Melanie. “Hey.” She even smiled at Russ. And she had that teenage girl with her, the one CJ liked, whose name was Jerilyn.

The girl said, “Hi, Mr. McFarlane.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh. Hi, Jerilyn.”

“Is, um, CJ here, too?” Her pretty face was open, guileless. And heartbreakingly hopeful.

His sister said, “Ah. So you’ve met my big brother?”

“Yes, we have,” Tori Jones said sweetly. “Just the other day, as a matter of fact.”

Connor told the dark-haired girl, “CJ’s in the restaurant, with Ryan.”

And Melanie said, “Why don’t you two join us? We were just going in to eat.”

Jerilyn turned her hopeful gaze on the English teacher.

After a moment, Tori nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

So they all went together, easing their way through the crowd toward the packed Rib Shack.

As it turned out, Ryan and CJ had actually managed to save three chairs. CJ jumped up at the sight of Jerilyn. “Jerilyn! Hi.” Suddenly he was only too eager to scout out a couple more seats for the dark-haired girl and her teacher.

They went through the serving line and loaded their plates with ribs, barbecued chicken, fat white rolls and coleslaw. Back at the table, CJ worked it so that Jerilyn sat next to him. The girl seemed to glow with pleasure at CJ’s attention. And CJ behaved almost like his old self, suddenly—smiling and happy, his face animated as he and the girl whispered together.

Connor ended up with Melanie on one side and Tori Jones on the other. Through the meal, his sister and Tori talked around him—about the barbecue and what a success it was, about the resort and how nice it was to see it packed full of people again.

Since Russ had bought the first beers for the four adults, Connor did his bit and went over to the bar to get a second round. He eased in next to a blonde woman, sitting alone, nursing a white wine.

She smiled and leaned close to him. “I’m Erin. Erin Castro.”

Was she coming on to him?

He decided she wasn’t. There was no breathless smile, no fluttering eyelashes. Probably just being friendly. He gave her offered hand a quick shake. “Connor McFarlane.”

She seemed to study his face intently. “No relation to the Traubs, the Cliftons or the Cateses?” She had named the town’s three major families.

He laughed. “No, but they’re thick on the ground around here.”

“So I’ve been told.”

He paid the bartender, gathered up the four beers by their necks and headed back to the table, forgetting about the woman named Erin as soon as he turned away from her. Mostly, he was thinking about Tori Jones.

Thinking that he liked the cute spray of freckles across her nose and those big hazel eyes. Thinking that he owed her an apology for his behavior on Thursday. After all, he was trying to be a better man. And one of the things a better man did was to say he was sorry when an apology was called for.

Sometimes trying to be a better man could be a real pain in the ass.

At the table, he took the chair next to her again and set one of the beers in front of her. “Here you go.”

She met his eyes. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Holding her gaze, he tried a smile. She didn’t smile back. And yet somehow that look they shared went on far too long.

She glanced away first.

He passed fresh ones down the table to Melanie and Russ and tried to think of how he could smoothly suggest that the schoolteacher give him a moment alone.

Smoothly. That was the key. But for some reason, he didn’t feel especially smooth. And that really bugged him. He ran a hotel chain, for pity’s sake. It was part of his job to be smooth when a situation required it.

After the meal, which included red velvet cake and coffee for dessert, DJ Traub got up with a microphone and thanked everyone for coming to his annual summer kickoff barbecue. He introduced his visiting Texas cousins, Dillon and Corey, after which he announced there would be dancing out on the patio. Everyone applauded as DJ left the mike.

CJ stood and pulled back Jerilyn’s chair for her.

Connor snapped to attention. “What’s up?”

His son stiffened. But then Jerilyn gave CJ a gentle look. That was all it took. CJ actually spoke in civil tone. “We were just going to hang around out in the lobby area.”

“If that’s all right,” Jerilyn added, stars in her dark eyes.

“Just the lobby,” Connor warned.

CJ nodded.

Jerilyn promised, “Just the lobby, Mr. McFarlane. By the big fireplace.”

“All right.”

The girl turned her warm smile on Ryan. “Come with us,” she offered softly. CJ looked a little sulky about that, but he didn’t object.

“Sure.” Ryan, his face lit up like a Christmas tree, jumped to his feet and bounced off in the wake of the two older kids.

“She’s a lovely girl,” said Melanie.

On his other side, Tori made a soft noise of agreement.

Out on the patio, the band DJ had hired struck up a country song. Russ took Melanie’s hand and got up. “‘Scuse me while I dance with my beautiful wife.”

Melanie rose. “We’ll be back.” Russ put his arm around her.

Connor watched them make their way through the thicket of tables to the open patio doors, leaving him alone with the cute schoolteacher and his chance to make amends.

How to begin?

He had no clue. He felt awkward, tongue-tied as a kid with his first crush. Which was pretty ridiculous, really. He did not have a crush on Tori Jones. He’d just been put through the wringer with the divorce and the last thing he needed was another relationship.

Deeply annoyed with himself for feeling nervous, and for finding the schoolteacher much too attractive, he stared out through the open doors at the patio and the couples dancing there and started thinking about CJ.

And the girl, Jerilyn.

Jerilyn seemed like a kind-hearted person. And she was certainly polite and respectful of adults. But still, he’d better ask around, find out for certain she was really okay.

Being a full-time father was a challenge. You couldn’t just tell a kid to get with the program or get out, like you could an employee. The cold fact was that Connor’s life had been a damn sight simpler before the divorce, when CJ had been Jennifer’s responsibility and Connor was free to wheel and deal around the clock.

It had been Jennifer’s idea that he should take the boy to live with him for the summer, leaving her free to float around the Mediterranean on a luxury yacht with her new shipping magnate boyfriend. Connor might have refused. But he had felt obligated to spend some time with his son. Yes, it was probably too little too late. But CJ really needed guidance now and Connor was determined to try to provide it.

Beside him, the schoolteacher shifted in her chair. The movement reminded him that he couldn’t avoid facing her forever—and that to keep staring off into space while she was sitting right next to him was borderline rude.

He turned to her.

Those hazel eyes were waiting. A slight, knowing smile tipped the corners of her mouth and he realized she’d been watching him.

“What?” he demanded, knowing he sounded as surly as CJ did most of the time.

She only shrugged, a delicate movement of one slim shoulder.

“All right,” he said. “It’s like this. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you I’m sorry for my behavior Thursday afternoon. I wanted to be smooth about it, you know?”

Damn. What was the matter with him? Had he actually just said out loud that he wanted to be smooth?

Apparently, he had, because she repeated, “Smooth, huh?”

“You’re grinning,” he accused.

She tipped her head to the side. “You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re embarrassed.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “A McFarlane is never cute and very rarely embarrassed.”

She laughed then, a full-throated, musical sound.

He heard himself say, “You’ve got a great laugh.”

Her laughter faded as quickly as it had come. She tipped her strawberry-blond head the other way and said softly, “Your apology is accepted. I know you must have been worried sick.”

He answered honestly, “Yeah. I was.” And then he actually confessed, “Sometimes, lately, I wonder where my son went—and I don’t only mean when he disappears on his skateboard and I don’t know where to find him.”

“Teenagers can be a challenge.”

“It’s more than that. You should have known him before …” He let the sentence die unfinished. This woman did not need to hear about his broken marriage.

“It will work out,” she said. “Just give it time.”

He chuckled low. “Is that a promise?”

“Let’s call it a professional assessment. I deal with kids his age nine months out of the year and I can spot the ones who are just going through a tough phase. CJ’s one of those.”

“You think so?”

“I do. And it’s good that you’re spending time with him.”

“I hope you’re right. He mostly behaves like he wishes I would get lost and stay that way.”

“Don’t believe that. He needs you. Maybe he can’t— or doesn’t know how to—show you. But it matters to him, that you’re around and you care.”

Another long moment passed. He looked into those big eyes and she gazed back at him. Finally, he said, “Thanks. I appreciate a little reassurance.”

“Anytime.”

He leaned a little closer to her, got a whiff of her fresh, citrusy perfume. And it suddenly occurred to him that she would be the one to tell him all about Jerilyn. And he did need to know more about the girl, since CJ seemed so gone on her. “I’ve got a great idea.”

The hazel eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yeah. Dinner. You and me. This coming Friday.”

She seemed to realize she’d let him get too close and sat back away from him. “Oh. No, really—”

“Yeah. Really. I promise not to yell or say rude things.”

“Bad idea. Seriously. Bad.”

“What’s bad about it?”

She considered for a moment. “Okay, bad isn’t the right word. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Call it … instinct.”

He laughed. “Your instincts tell you not to go out with me? “

“Yeah. They do.”

Should he have been discouraged? He wasn’t. He saw the flush of color on her smooth cheeks and knew he could change her mind. “Come on. Take a chance. Friday night, the Gallatin Room right here at the resort. I’ve heard the food’s pretty good.”

She laughed again, a softer laugh than the one before, but no less warm, no less musical. “You high-powered types don’t take no for an answer.”

“So say yes.”

Her gaze slid away—and then came back to meet his.

He pressed the advantage. “It’s only dinner. What can it hurt?”

Something happened in her eyes. A decision. In his favor. “Good point.” She gave him a nod.

“A yes,” he said, and felt absurdly triumphant. “You just said yes.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth and then shifted up again, to his eyes. “You remember where I live?”

“I’ll never forget.”

“Seven-thirty.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You’re going out with Connor McFarlane?” Allaire asked in complete disbelief. “Tell me you’re joking.” She leaned close across the lacy tablecloth. It was Monday at noon. They were having their regular girls-only lunch at the Tottering Teapot on Main Street. DJ was home with Alex so Allaire could have a little time for herself.

The Teapot was famous for really good vegetarian sandwiches and an endless variety of teas, both caffeinated and herbal. All the tables had lace cloths and the food was served on mismatched thrift-store china. Not many men in town ate at the Teapot, but the women loved it.

“Not joking. I’m having dinner with him Friday night.” Tori kept her voice low. No reason everyone and their sister needed to hear this conversation.

Allaire demanded, “Why ask for trouble?”

“Because I kind of like him. He can be really charming when he’s not terrified something’s happened to his son.”

“He’s a shark. He’s trying to take over the resort.”

“It’s just a rumor. You said so yourself.”

“Watch. Wait. You’ll see it’s more that a rumor.”

“Doesn’t matter. I like him and I’m going out with him—and will you stop? It’s only a date. Not a lifetime commitment.”

Allaire pursed her lips in an expression of serious distaste. “You like him a lot. I can see it in your eyes.”

“In my eyes? Oh, please.”

Allaire leaned even closer. “Yep. Right there.” She aimed her index and middle fingers directly at Tori and sighted down them. “I can see it. You’ve got a thing for Mr. Bigshot McFarlane.”

Tori waved a hand. “Stop worrying. I’ll have a nice dinner and some good conversation. That’s all, nothing more.”

Allaire made a scoffing sound, but had to quell the rest of the lecture because Haley Anderson came in. In her mid-twenties, Haley went to college part-time and worked at the Hitching Post down the street, a local bar and also a town landmark. She spotted them and Tori waved her over.

“Good news.” Haley was beaming. As a rule, she wasn’t the beaming type. She’d had a rough time of it, raising her two younger siblings after their parents died. But today, her smile lit up the whole restaurant.

Allaire guessed, “You found a place.”

Haley beamed wider. “The price is right and it’s just down the street.”

Tori thought she knew where. “That vacant storefront down the block from the Hitching Post? “

“That’s the one. I met with the property manager, made an offer that’s a little lower than what they’re asking.”

“And?”

“The owner’s not in town. The property manager will consult with him and I should get my answer in the next few weeks.” Haley hugged herself. “I can just feel it, you know? This is it.”

Haley Anderson had a dream. Her dream was called ROOTS. It was to be a sort of Outward Bound/Big Brother organization to help troubled teens. Getting the storefront would mean she had a home base from which to launch the program.

She asked Allaire, “Did you talk with the principal?” She meant at the high school.

Allaire nodded. “He said to bring him a proposal when you’re all set up. He really can’t do much until then. You should definitely be able to put up flyers around the school, though. I mean, once you’re up and running and can show what you’re offering.”

“Of course. I understand.” Haley gave a nervous laugh. “I guess I’m kind of getting ahead of myself.”

Tori reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s good to think ahead. And it’s a fine project, an important one.”

“We’ll help all we can,” Allaire promised.

Haley went on beaming. “I knew I could count on you two.”

The little bell over the door chimed again. It was Melanie Chilton. Ignoring Tori’s warning look, Allaire waved her over.

“Join us.” Allaire gave Connor’s sister a big, sweet smile.

“Only for a minute.” Melanie slid in next to Tori. “I’ve got to get back to the Hopping H.” The waitress appeared. They all ordered, with Melanie asking for hers to go. When the waitress left, Melanie asked Allaire, “So how was the weekend reunion?”

“The mini reunion,” Allaire corrected. “Just the local Traubs and Corey and Dillon. It went great. Both of DJ’s cousins say they’ll be back in town soon.”

“Tell DJ we loved the barbecue. We had a wonderful time.”

“So I heard,” said Allaire, sending a meaningful look Tori’s way.

Melanie glanced at Tori and then back at Allaire. “Okay. What am I not picking up on here?”

Allaire gave an airy wave of her hand. “Oh, nothing.”

Tori glared at her, mostly in fun. “You are impossible.”

Now Allaire was grinning. “So I’ve been told.”

“What’s going on?” Haley demanded. Tori realized it was kind of silly to try to keep the date with Connor to herself. Everyone in town would know anyway, after she showed up at the resort with him on Friday night. “Connor asked me out to dinner. I said yes. It’s not a big deal, but Allaire is trying to make it one.”

Melanie blinked. And then she grinned. “I thought there was something going on with you two.”

Tori frowned. Everyone seemed to know something she didn’t. “You did?”

Haley asked Melanie, “Connor. That’s your brother, right?”

Melanie nodded and told Haley what Tori and Allaire already knew. “He’s in town for the summer.” And then she lowered her voice so only their table could hear. “He’s always been … difficult to get along with, at least, for me. He and my father looked down on me. No matter how hard I worked, I was never good enough, never man enough, to be an equal partner in McFarlane House Hotels. But Connor’s been surprising me lately. He’s different, since his divorce, since he and our father had to sell a couple of failing locations, including the new Atlanta hotel, just to stay afloat.”

“You’re saying you believe Connor’s changed?” asked Allaire, sounding annoyingly doubtful.

“I do,” said Melanie. “Or at least, he’s not nearly as overbearing as he used to be. Now and then, in the past few days, I even get the feeling he’s actually listening to me. And to Russ.” And then she chuckled wryly. “My father, though. Donovan McFarlane is a man who’ll never change.”

“Thunder Canyon, Montana,” Donovan McFarlane growled in disgust. “It’s a black hole, Connor, and you know it.”

Connor reminded himself to breathe slowly and evenly. He ordered his fingers to hold the phone more loosely. “I can get a good deal on the resort. But I need a little time to work on Caleb Douglas, to show him how the best decision for him is to sell.”

“McFarlane House does not need a resort in some tiny Montana town. I’ve seen the numbers on that location. They’re not good, trending down.”

“Everything’s trending down lately.” Even McFarlane House, Connor thought. “Once we’re in charge, we’ll start making the necessary changes to get the resort in the black again. We’ll cut back, at first, focus on the strongest services, get rid of any staff that isn’t ready to—”

“Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I don’t like it. First your sister, and now you. Throwing over your life work, your heritage.”

“Dad. I’m not throwing anything over.”

As usual, Donovan wasn’t listening “—your sister with her ridiculous dude ranch, you with your sudden burning need to buy that failing resort.”

“The Hopping H is doing very well, thanks, Dad. And we agreed that the resort could work for us.”

“I agreed to no such thing. I do not care in the least about that resort. I want you back here in Philadelphia right away. I need you here.” It was a bald-faced lie. Donovan McFarlane could run the McFarlane House corporate office with one hand tied behind his back and a bag over his head.

“I’ll be there next week for the monthly—”

“Not next week. Now. You’re welcome to stay with us until you can find another house. Your mother would be only too happy to have you nearby again. Why you had to give Jennifer your house is beyond me.”

“It was her house, too, Dad.”

“What about the prenup? We both know what that prenup said. She had no right to that house. And then she went and sold it, anyway.”

“Dad, let’s not rehash all this again.”

“All right. Come home. You could have at least kept that condo.”

“Dad. We discussed this. I sold the condo because when I come back in the fall, I’m going to find another house.”

“I’ve reevaluated and I want—”

“Well, I haven’t. Except for the specific meetings and catch-up visits we agreed on two weeks ago, I’m here in Thunder Canyon for the summer with my son.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line. A deadly one. Finally, Donovan said, “You could just send Connor Jr. back to school. A summer without distractions, time to focus on his studies. Do the boy a world of good.”

“Dad.”

“Ahem. What is it?”

“I’m spending the summer here in Thunder Canyon and so is CJ. End of discussion.”

“You’re very stubborn. You don’t get that from me.”

Connor almost laughed. It would have been a sound with zero humor in it. “I have to go now, Dad. See you next week.” Connor disconnected the call before his father could start issuing more orders.

And then he just stood there, in the study of his rented house, staring blindly out the window at the snowcapped peak of Thunder Mountain in the distance. There had been a time, not that long ago, when he and his dad saw eye to eye on just about every issue.

But now, whenever he talked to Donovan, he hung up wanting to put his fist through a wall. Donovan just didn’t get it. Times were changing and a man either swam with the tide or drowned.

Sometimes Connor thought he was a survivor, that he really was changing, working his way toward a better life for himself and the son he’d neglected for too long.

And sometimes he knew he was kidding himself, that he was actually drowning, going under for the third time and still telling himself he had both feet firmly planted on solid ground.